She felt angry, but she couldn’t bring herself to openly criticize him. Fermi’s philosophy wasn’t exactly flawed—it was cold, but disturbingly logical. Maybe he was even exploiting Shirone’s current situation for his own gain.
Alpheas approached Siana.
"I suppose we have no choice now."
"This is it. Approve the student council’s request."
Amy cried out in protest.
"Principal, no! What about Shirone?"
"You know he’s not dead! You know that!"
"...No. Actually, I don’t."
Amy froze, stunned by his honesty. Alpheas gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Amy, no one truly knows Shirone’s condition. We can only hope. I still believe he’ll return."
"Look around. Even the students who seemed indifferent are fighting now. It doesn’t matter how it started—we can’t let our students tear each other apart."
Shirone was precious to Alpheas. But so were the others. Now, students were ready to kill each other inside their Spirit Zones. To risk them all for one person would be selfish.
"I’ll go down and make the announcement. Notify Shirone’s parents... and begin the funeral preparations. We’ll discuss any disciplinary actions later."
Amy collapsed into her chair. Seriel, eyes brimming with tears, ran to her.
"Amy, what should we do? Shirone... Shirone..."
Amy felt the same. It was as if, the moment Alpheas acknowledged Shirone’s death, he vanished from her heart too.
The atmosphere outside the building was near explosive. Everyone had activated their Spirit Zones. With a single decision, they could unleash deadly magic.
Amira’s doubts resurfaced. Is this really the right path? What kind of reasoning could justify classmates turning their powers on each other with intent to kill?
She bit her lip, looking between Neid and Iruki. Neid was clearly ready to fight, but Iruki still looked like he had something left to say.
"You," Amira said. "You’re a Servant, right?"
Iruki didn’t respond.
"Do we really have to go through with this? Your friend is too emotional. But you’re no different."
"...I’m sorry, but I’m feeling emotional too."
"Liar. Or maybe it doesn’t matter. Do you even know? Do you really think Shirone is still alive? Is that your conclusion?"
"Hmm. Conclusion..." Iruki’s eyes lowered in thought. After a moment, he looked directly at her and said,
"There’s only one answer. Shirone is not dead."
Neid turned to him in surprise. Back in the infirmary, Iruki had claimed the opposite. What changed?
Iruki didn’t look back. His gaze stayed fixed ahead. Amira’s disappointment deepened. She’d always seen him as the most rational student in the school, but in the end, he was just another emotional teenager.
"If you truly believe that, then give me a logical reason. Something that can convince us."
"Of course," Iruki replied.
Amira blinked. She hadn’t expected him to answer so confidently.
"Then tell me. Why do you believe Shirone is still alive?"
"Because it’s four o’clock... Should I say that?"
DONG. DONG. DONG. DONG.
The bell from the clock tower rang out four times.
Iruki hadn’t needed to check a watch. As a Servant, he had measured the time internally. The method was simple—just count seconds from a fixed point.
Neid suddenly understood why Iruki had been so quiet lately.
He was counting... But since when?
Amira stared blankly at the towering clock. Then, as something clicked in her mind, she turned sharply.
"I get it now. You’re just insane. What does the time have to do with Shirone’s death?"
Iruki didn’t respond. He was already running behind schedule, though he suspected a few miscalculations along the way.
Four o’clock and seven seconds. Eight... Nine... What are you waiting for?
Amira finished her thoughts, firm in her decision. Trying to reason with the emotional Neid or the already unhinged Iruki was pointless.
"We’re taking Shirone with us. Let’s see how long you can hold out against the senior class."
Neid’s eyes flashed with intensity, fueled by the powerful presence of the academy’s top students. Just then, a new voice—unfamiliar yet oddly recognizable—cut through the tension.
"Well, you all seem to be having fun. Mind if I join in? This is right up my alley."
Everyone instinctively looked around, but the source of the voice remained hidden. Moments later, two figures emerged from the shadow cast by a nearby building—it was Canis and Arin.
Amira’s eyes sparked with fury.
"You! Do you even realize where you are? How dare you show your face here! I’ll have you arrested immediately!"
"Go ahead—if you can," Canis replied with a snort. "Not like I plan to run."
He casually approached Iruki, who frowned in irritation.
"You’re late," Iruki muttered.
"You said be here by four, didn’t you?"
"It’s been twenty-seven seconds."
Canis looked annoyed but forced himself to stay calm. Right now, settling their score took priority.
"Here. What you asked for."
He handed Iruki a stack of documents, which Iruki immediately began flipping through. Neid, curious, leaned in.
"What is that, Iruki?"
"The Dragon’s Report. I took a tissue sample from Shirone and sent it for analysis."
"What? When did you even do that? And wait—how could you get to the capital and back in just five days?"
Even with a fast carriage, the journey would normally take four days one way. Factor in the analysis time, and the turnaround was impossibly fast.
"I asked Canis for help. He knows the geography around Basuka better than anyone."
Canis clenched his jaw at the memory. It had been a grueling trip. By day, he traveled by carriage. By night, he made the treacherous journey to the Dark Fort. Night travel was faster, but he’d pushed his magic to its limits and blacked out more than once from exhaustion.
"Anyway," Canis said with a shrug, "with this, I’ve done my part. I don’t owe Shirone anything now."
He didn’t feel particularly emotional about Shirone’s death. But as a fellow disciple, he felt a responsibility to act against Arcane’s cruelty.
"Still, that’s not really my business. You can tell Shirone that yourself."
Amira felt increasingly uneasy. The mention of dragons was no small thing—they were the kingdom’s top scientific and magical authority, and Iruki’s father was one of its leading figures.
"What kind of scheme is this? Do you really think we’ll back down just because the Mercodaine are involved?"
Normally, the name Mercodaine would intimidate anyone. But the families gathered here were no slouches either. If it came down to numbers, they had a fighting chance.
"Don’t worry about that," Iruki said. "I signed off on the request myself. Once my name’s on it, who knows what tricks the old man might pull. But what matters more is what’s written in this document."
"Hah! What, does it have some magic spell that can raise the dead?"
Iruki calmly closed the folder and began reading aloud from the beginning.
"Title: Observations on Immortality and the Cessation of Biological Activity."
The crowd quieted. Even the people inside the infirmary on the third floor strained to listen.
"Analysis of the subject’s tissue sample. Non-mechanical apnea. No signs of organism-specific decomposition after 24 hours post-death. Supporting data attached."
Iruki flipped to the next section.
"Based on this data, we conclude that while biological activity has stopped, it is not conclusive evidence of full functional cessation—i.e., actual death."
He stressed the next point.
"In Dragon research, there are three recognized types of cardiac arrest. First, actual cardiac failure. Second, temporary cardiac arrest. Third, a condition in which the heart appears to have stopped but hasn’t, due to external factors."
Amira scowled, unable to hold back.
"What kind of nonsense is that? I can accept the first case, but the others? That’s just absurd!"
Iruki turned the page, unbothered.
"Usage Notes: In the case of a stopped heart, the subject may be clinically dead. However, under certain conditions associated with immortal function, two alternative cases arise."
He raised his voice as he read.
"Case 1: If mental expansion is stalled due to a particular event, bodily functions may halt temporarily until the mind reaches a conclusion. See attached report."
"Case 2: Even after mental expansion concludes, there may be a shift in the observer’s perception of time. That is, life activity may persist, but appears undetectable due to a time-space barrier. See attached report."
Satisfied, Iruki skimmed to the final page.
"Conclusion: According to all gathered magical and biological evidence, the subject currently lying in the infirmary—"
He held up the final page for all to see.
"Aryan Shirone cannot be considered dead."
The previously rowdy crowd fell into stunned silence. They were mages—they knew enough to recognize that no one could easily dismiss a report from the Dragons.
"Iruki... since when have you...?" Neid murmured, eyes wide in disbelief.
Iruki turned and gave him a soft smile.
"How about that? A way to bring the dead back to life. I’ve been searching for it, even while everyone else was grieving."
Neid’s lips trembled. He had hoped—but Iruki had believed. While they mourned, Iruki fought alone.
"Here," Iruki said, handing the report to Amira. "See for yourself."
Amira took it silently. On the front page, the seal of the Dragons was clearly stamped.
There was no more room for argument. The kingdom’s most credible institution had spoken. Even if she tried to escalate the issue legally, the courts would most likely side with the academy.
"You’ve been through a lot, Amira."
A calm voice rang from the entrance of the building.