"Dammit! How many times do I have to tell you before it finally sinks in!?"
Marcos shouted at Elena, his voice thick with irritation.
As Elena shrank back and hung her head, cowed by his uncharacteristic outburst, Marcos continued his lecture.
"I've told you a dozen times! This isn't Shandia Island. This isn't a place where everyone is a saint! There are countless people here who will approach you with wicked intentions and hidden agendas!"
"But... those people said they just wanted to be friends with me..."
"That's exactly how they operate! How many times do I have to repeat myself!?"
"Eek..."
Barely ten minutes ago, Marcos had caught a boy—one of the so-called Hero Candidates—pestering Elena.
If it had been a simple conversation, he wouldn't have cared. But the boy had been using silver-tongued lies to trick her, attempting to lure her back to his room.
In truth, this was far from the first or second time Elena had nearly been swindled.
Raised on Shandia Island, a land of nothing but kindhearted souls, Elena lacked any sense of suspicion. She never doubted anyone. To the boys with predatory motives—specifically the Former Hero Candidates—she was likely viewed as the ultimate prey.
(Those bastards... they’re trying to sink their claws into Elena before their bad reputation becomes common knowledge. What a truly cowardly lot!)
Marcos had hit the nail squarely on the head. He was constantly on edge, keeping a vigilant eye out to ensure Elena wasn't deceived by the Former Hero Candidates.
Yugo and Melt were also doing their part to protect her, but the person at the center of it all didn't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation.
Or rather, it was more accurate to say that the Former Hero Candidates were weaponizing Elena's own virtues against her.
They would claim they had no friends and were desperately lonely, or pretend to be in dire need of help, preying upon her kindness and inherent goodness to trap her.
Elena understood what Marcos and the others told her in principle, but she couldn't bring herself to abandon someone suffering right in front of her. She would end up engaging with them out of pity, and like clockwork, she would fall right into the Former Hero Candidates' traps.
"...I'm not doubting you, Marcos, but this is a school where people come to become great Magic Knights, right? Even so, are there really that many people here with such bad hearts?"
"I hate to admit it, but... yes. You saw the Blue Ever group, didn't you? You saw the ones who betrayed us to side with Abyss."
"..."
Having righteous ideals was no guarantee that a person was good. In any organization, there would always be those who acted purely out of self-interest.
Marcos reminded her that throughout the various incidents on Wind Island, she had surely seen many such people with her own eyes. Then, seeing how dejected she looked, he softened his tone.
"...I don't hate your pure nature. In fact, I think it's a virtue. But if anything were to happen to you, I wouldn't be able to face Lord Carlos or Poruru. Please, Elena, just try to be a little more cautious."
"Yeah... I'm sorry, Marcos..."
It pained his heart to see her shoulders slump as she hung her head in shame.
Marcos told himself this scolding was for her own good, but seeing her so miserable didn't sit well with him.
"I'm really sorry... I've been living apart from my father and Poruru lately, and I've been feeling a bit lonely myself... So when people tell me they're lonely because they don't have friends, I end up empathizing with them and listening to what they have to say... But that's wrong, isn't it?"
"I-It's not that it's wrong! It's just that I'm saying this place isn't Shandia...!"
Even as he spoke, Marcos knew these weren't the right words.
He understood there had to be a way to tell her without hurting her—words that could encourage her instead. He felt a flash of irritation at his own inability to choose them, and a bitter knot formed in his chest.
In the end, the fault lay with the Former Hero Candidates who were trying to take advantage of her. He felt a surge of resentment that he and Elena had to feel so miserable just because of those bastards' wicked behavior.
Marcos did his best not to take his frustration out on her, keeping his inner turmoil hidden. Once he was sure he had cautioned her enough, he finally brought the lecture to a close.
Yet, as he watched the dejected Elena walk away, he remained troubled, burdened by a hazy, indescribable emotion he couldn't quite put into words.