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Around the colosseum, now shrouded in twilight, workers were already dismantling the enormous projection magic devices that had been set up for the tournament.

The lingering traces of the finals—the excitement that must have drawn countless people—could still be felt all throughout the city.

“It’s been a while since we’ve gone outside, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah, it has.”

Seated at the back of the same maroon-colored tram we had taken when first moving into the dorms, Alfe swung her legs happily. Given the late hour, it seemed few students were leaving the dormitory grounds; the tram was ours alone, with only our guide, Farah, accompanying the three of us.

“Still, I didn’t think we’d be leaving the dorms for this. I thought it was just a victory party.”
“Nyaha! Once in a while’s fine, right? It’s not against the rules or anything.”

Farah replied cheerfully to my muttering.

“Having a party at a restaurant feels fancy, doesn’t it?”
“Well, Impero’s just a place for common folk, but I’ll vouch for the food.”
“Then I’m looking forward to it.”

If Farah, who hailed from Alda Milone—famous as a gourmet’s paradise—said so, there was no doubt about it. Even I, usually dulled by Aether Overproduction Syndrome, was feeling the pangs of hunger tonight; my stomach threatened to growl any moment.

“Besides, since Vannabelle’s sponsoring us tonight, we can eat and drink as much as we like.”

She flashed her sharp-toothed grin, her expression brimming with anticipation.

“Sponsoring?”
“Nyahaha. She bet her whole fortune on Reinforce, remember?”
“Oh—”

That’s right. Just before the finals, she had come to cheer us on, lugging along a trunk stuffed full of betting slips.

“…Wait… does that mean, all of that…?”

Alfe’s eyes blinked rapidly as she began counting on her fingers, running quick numbers in her head.

“Exactly. No matter how much we eat and drink tonight, we couldn’t possibly use it all up. So relax and dig in!”

***

“Tonight’s on me! Drink up!”

The restaurant Farah had led us to was reserved entirely for Class 1-F. On a small makeshift platform, Vannabelle raised a wine glass filled with juice and signaled for a toast.

“Cheers!”

Everyone’s cheerful voices rang out together, and we were warmly congratulated by our classmates. After downing the first glass and nibbling on a few appetizers, Lili-Lulu appeared side by side.

““A splendid battle, O Alfe—and you, people of Reinforce,”” they said in unison, smiling with identical faces.
“Thank you, Lili-Lulu.”

Taking their offered hands, Alfe spun around as usual, light on her feet. Lili-Lulu tapped their toes happily in response, meeting Alfe’s eyes before nodding as if to affirm something between them.

““In honor of your victory, we shall dedicate to Reinforce a traditional song of the Elves. O Alfe, you join as well.””
“Me too?”
““Of course. Lili-Lulu and you have sworn an Elf Alliance.””

Alfe blinked in surprise, but when Lili-Lulu gave her a delighted smile, they twirled up to the same little stage where Vannabelle had made her toast. There, they began to sing—a beautiful melody in what must have been the Elves’ ancient tongue.

“…That’s a lovely song.”
“Yes, Master.”

I couldn’t understand the meaning of the words, but their voices were soothing to the ear. Even though it was surely Alfe’s first time hearing it, she blended her voice with theirs flawlessly, the three harmonizing as one.

“Nyaha. This is great.”
“Now this is what a victory banquet’s supposed to be.”
“All the food’s delicious too, Belleee.”

Before we knew it, Vannabelle and Numelin had joined Farah nearby, the three of them enraptured by the song.

“…Thank you, Vannabelle.”
“Hm? For what?”
“For believing in us.”

When I looked up at her and spoke softly, Vannabelle scratched the back of her head, as if embarrassed.

“Believe? Nah. I just wanted you to prove it—that the ones who beat us really are the strongest.”
“Think we proved it?”

When I pressed her, Vannabelle muttered something under her breath, then turned back toward me and met my eyes head-on.

“You won the championship—of course you did!”
“Nyahaha! You could just say congratulations, you know.”
“That’s right, Belleee.”

Farah and Numelin chimed in, poking fun at Vannabelle’s blunt words.

“Shut it. You can tell without me spelling it out!”
“Yeah. It’s coming through just fine.”

It was obvious from her actions that no one was happier about our victory than Vannabelle. When I smiled at her, she muttered almost under her breath, “Thanks.”

“No, thank you. Hom was able to give it her all because—”

The truth was, our training sessions with Vannabelle and the others had played a huge role. They hadn’t comforted Hom in her heartbreak, but had instead encouraged her by showing how they themselves faced the tournament. I was about to say as much when the warm, cheerful atmosphere of the restaurant suddenly shifted.

“…What the?”

Vannabelle’s ears twitched, sharp with suspicion.

“Someone just came in through the entrance…”
“But everyone from Class F is already hereee.”

Catching the uneasy stir in the room, Farah and Numelin tilted their heads—just as—

“Wait, isn’t that Rizel!?”

Vannabelle barked furiously and bolted toward the entrance of the restaurant.

“Hey, Belleee, hold on!”

Numelin rushed after her, and the rest of us followed. Pushing through our classmates, we found Vannabelle already squaring up to Rizel, practically nose to nose in a fight-ready stance.

“…Don’t tell me you came here just to whine because Ignis lost.”
“No, that’s not it.”

Rizel raised both hands in front of his chest, a gesture to show he bore no hostility.

“So what is it, then?”

Still on guard, Vannabelle pressed Rizel back, inching him almost to the restaurant’s exit. Then, for some reason, Rizel suddenly lowered his head.

“Huh!? What the hell are you doing!?”

Vannabelle shouted, shaking with anger, but Rizel kept his head bowed.

“…Let’s hear him out for a moment.”

I stepped forward with Hom, calming Vannabelle, who looked like she might force Rizel out by sheer momentum. Sensing our presence, Rizel lifted his eyes for a brief instant in our direction.

“…I truly apologize. I just need a few minutes of your time today. I came all this way purely to offer Reinforce my apology.”
“Apology!? You think that matters now—”
“Belle—”

Numelin interjected, restraining Vannabelle in our stead.

“Fine, fine. You have less than five minutes.”

With a sigh, Vannabelle stepped back, and Rizel finally raised his face.

“…You may speak.”

I met his gaze and gestured for him to continue. From the dimness behind him, the students of Class A appeared. Leading the group were Gutenberg Boy and Jost. Behind them, roughly twenty more students could be seen.

“…Can we trust them?”
“Gutenberg Boy is here. Let’s hear what they have to say first.”