I’d Like to Live Just One More Day

I watched the Black-clad Men through my honey-colored eyes, tracking their every move.

It felt like an eternity since they’d dragged me into the Grand Lecture Hall. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving the hall bathed in the flickering, warm glow of the lamps.

I’d already dealt with the restraints on my wrists, slicing through them with a tiny knife I’d managed to keep hidden. Now, I was just playing the part—sitting there, acting like I was still bound, while the blade made its rounds. It was probably being passed to the girl from the Student Council next to me as we spoke, and it would keep moving down the line from there.

I could have made a move whenever I wanted. The problem was, I knew exactly how futile that would be.

The Black-clad Men were few, sure, but every single one of them was a high-tier threat you couldn't take your eyes off for a second. Plus, their coordination was annoyingly on point.

Two of them were in a league of their own: the guy they called Rex and his superior, the one I’d dubbed 'The Thin Knight.' One of the teachers had completely misread the power gap and tried to rebel earlier. He was slaughtered before he could even process his mistake.

Honestly? Even if I could use my Magic Power, I wasn’t sure I could take them.

Luckily, Rex had been MIA for a while. I hoped the Knight Order had taken him out back, though I highly doubted a monster like him would get caught slipping. My plan—if you could call my desperate hopes a plan—was to do something before he showed his face again.

The Thin Knight spent most of his time holed up in the back room, only occasionally emerging to patrol the Grand Lecture Hall and swear about Rex being late.

Judging by his dense Magic Power and the way he carried himself, the guy was well beyond "master" level. He might even be stronger than Iris Midgar herself... though I really hoped I was wrong about that. If he was that cracked, then even if I got my magic back, my chances of winning were basically zero.

Either way, it wasn't time to move yet.

But let's be real—I was running out of time.

As the minutes ticked by, I could feel the Magic Power draining out of my system. I didn't know the mechanics behind it, but it was definitely connected to whatever was jamming our magic. I had some reserves left, but the students with smaller pools were already looking pale. Give it a few more hours, and we’d be looking at a full-blown outbreak of Magic Deficiency. Once that happened, any chance of a counterattack would be gone for good.

Anxiety and impatience started to claw at my chest.

Whenever I felt like I was about to snap, I’d picture the face of a certain boy.

Every time I thought about Cid and how he threw his life away just to save me, a wave of heat surged through my heart.

I won't let his sacrifice be for nothing. I kept chanting that like a mantra as I waited for my moment.

And then, it happened. Out of nowhere.

The Grand Lecture Hall was suddenly flooded with a blinding white light.

I had no idea what it was, but I didn't wait to find out. I was moving before my brain could even register the flash.

I didn't care what the light meant. My instincts told me this was it—my last shot.

While everyone else was busy being flash-banged, I squinted through the glare and bolted toward the nearest Black-clad Man.

The moment I reached for his exposed neck, it hit me.

Magic! I can use my Magic Power again!

My hand-sword sliced through the guy’s neck in a clean, instantaneous blur.

I didn't know why my magic was back, and frankly, I didn't care.

I snatched the sword from the waist of the now-headless man, thrust it toward the ceiling, and let out a roar that probably sounded way more epic than I felt.

"The magic is free! Stand up! It’s time to hit back!"

The Grand Lecture Hall absolutely exploded.

The Student Council girl followed my lead, shredding her restraints in a heartbeat. All at once, the liberated students began to mobilize. Our collective will fused into one, and the sheer frenzy of it made the very air vibrate.

I let my massive Magic Power off the leash, blowing a Black-clad Man away with a single strike.

Just focus on the win.

In that moment, I knew I had to be more than just a fighter; I had to be the symbol of the revolution. As long as I kept swinging, they’d keep fighting. I had to give them a victory they could see—something to believe in.

I stopped worrying about things like "mana efficiency" or "pacing myself." I just put everything I had into every swing.

"Follow the Student Council President!"

"Grab their swords!"

I drew all the attention, all the hostility, and all the cheers. I slaughtered dozens of enemies, freed countless students, and just kept moving. I felt like a legendary hero straight out of a storybook. Everyone was looking at me, chasing after my back.

Of course, it was also a totally reckless suicide charge.

Even with my massive reserves, I was hitting my limit. I’d been getting drained for hours, after all. I could feel the wall approaching, and I watched it come with cold clarity.

My Magic Power was fading, my blade was getting sluggish, and my limbs felt like they were made of lead.

What used to take one hit now took two. Then three.

Just a little more... just a few more steps...

Despite my internal pep talk, I eventually ended up surrounded. I had enough gas left for maybe one more person before I collapsed.

The hall was thick with the heat of the students' resolve. Even if I went down here, they wouldn't stop. A boy’s feelings had reached me, and now my feelings had reached them. Lives were being lost, but the torch was being passed.

It wasn't a waste. Not Cid’s death, and not the death that was waiting for me.

Back in the Land of the Arts, I’d had a reason for picking up the sword. It was a stupid, childish dream I’d never shared with anyone. But I’d chased it with everything I had.

I wonder if I got even a little bit closer to that dream?

With that thought, I swung my final strike.

There was barely any magic in the blade. No strength, no speed. And yet, it was the most beautiful blow I’d ever delivered. It reaped the enemy’s head with a sensation I’d never felt before.

It was the single best hit of my entire life.

In that moment, I felt like I’d finally grasped something fundamental. Something important.

The only problem? It was really frustrating that I only figured it out right at the end.

As I watched the blades rain down on me from every side, I made one final wish: I’d like to try living for just one more day.

And then, my wish came true.

A Jet-black Whirlwind tore through the hall.

In a spray of fresh blood, every single enemy around me was erased in the blink of an eye.

The world went silent, as if time itself had decided to take a break.

Standing in the center of the carnage was a man wrapped in a Jet-black Longcoat.

"Exquisite... O wielder of a beautiful sword..."

His voice sounded like it was echoing up from the bottom of an abyss, and it was directed right at me.

He was praising my last strike. I should have said something, but I was too busy being hit by a wave of shock that I couldn't even put into words.

"My name is Shadow."

Shadow. The sword of this man... it was just... terrifying.

"I-I’m Rose. Rose Oriana... sir."

My voice shook as I tried to pull myself together.

Shadow’s swordsmanship was at a height I couldn't even fathom. It was a fusion of countless techniques, refined and distilled through what must have been an eternity of relentless practice. Looking at it, I felt the weight of ages. It was the most perfect blade I had ever seen.

"Come... my faithful subordinates..."

Shadow unleashed a pillar of Bluish-purple Magic Power into the air. Bathed in that light, a group of Black-clad Women came crashing into the hall.

Wait, more of them?!

My panic was short-lived. The Black-clad Women stuck their landings gracefully and immediately started tearing into the Black-clad Men.

This wasn't infighting, and they definitely weren't the Knight Order. Now that I looked closer, they were all women. And...

"They're so strong..."

Every single one of them was a beast. Just pure, unadulterated power.

The Black-clad Men were being thinned out in seconds. Their sword style was identical to Shadow's. This was the squad he led.

"Master Shadow, I am glad to see you are unharmed."

"Is that you, Nu?"

A Black-clad Woman knelt at Shadow’s side.

"The ringleader has set the academy on fire and is attempting to flee."

"Foolish... I leave this place to you."

"Understood."

"Does he truly think he can escape...?"

Shadow let out a low, dark chuckle. Then, with a flourish of his longcoat, he carved the doors of the Grand Lecture Hall into splinters with a single slash, turning the nearby Black-clad Men into literal piles of meat in the process.

The move looked a little like mine. It was like he was showing off, giving me a demonstration. Then, with effortless poise, he vanished into the night.

Every move he made was the perfect textbook example for me to follow.

"Are you alright?"

The woman Shadow called Nu spoke to me.

"Yes..."

"That was a wonderful sword you wielded."

With that, she leveled her Jet-black Blade and dove back into the fray.

Nu’s strength was also off the charts. She was just systematically deleting the Black-clad Men. I felt like my entire understanding of the world—or at least the common sense of a Spellsword—was being dismantled.

The way these women fought didn't fit any known school of swordsmanship. It was something entirely new. Where did a school like this, a group like this, even come from? It was a miracle they’d stayed hidden for so long.

"Fire! The fire's spreading!"

A shout snapped me back to reality.

Sure enough, the back of the Grand Lecture Hall was starting to go up in flames.

"Everyone near the exit, get out now!"

I started barked orders, guiding the students. Thanks to the Black-clad Women, the casualties were actually pretty low. The fight was basically over. I shouldered an injured student and helped them toward the exit.

"The Knight Order is here!"

That shout brought a wave of relief to everyone. I almost collapsed as the adrenaline left my system, but I forced myself to stay upright.

Students were streaming out of the burning hall. The fire was roaring now, and the Black-clad Men were finished.

And then, just like that, the Black-clad Women were gone.

As if they’d never been there at all, they vanished without a trace, without anyone noticing. It was a perfect disappearance.

I stayed until the last student was safe, then looked back at the inferno.

"Just who were they...?"

I suddenly thought back to Nu’s voice.

It was nostalgic. I could have sworn I’d heard it somewhere before.