Stellar Academy—the main stage of Saintess & Hero.
Being the setting of the game, it was only natural that the site upon which the academy was built was no ordinary place.
It was a school erected atop a dragon's nest, no less!
Legend had it that before the empire was even founded, the First Hero fought a notorious Red Dragon that had ruled these lands for three days and three nights in a bloody, grueling battle—and only barely earned the dragon's acknowledgment. It was upon that very nest that she laid the foundation and raised the academy.
Even now, hidden dragon treasures and items occasionally turned up here and there because of it.
The academy even had an extracurricular club dedicated entirely to exploring the grounds and hunting for those treasures—which really said it all.
The reason I was going on at such length about the academy's history was that it was directly connected to the Hidden Piece we were going to find.
Leaving our room, my young mistress and I arrived in front of a decrepit old shed on the outskirts of the academy grounds.
"…Dia. This is just a run-down old shed."
My young mistress swept a disdainful gaze over the dust-caked exterior and scrunched her brow.
"I said it was a good place."
"You shouldn't judge by appearances, my lady. When have I ever lied to you? Do these look like the eyes of a liar?"
I said this while opening my eyes wide and fixing her with a gaze brimming with sincerity.
Honesty reaches the heart—surely my young mistress would understand!
"You told me you were taking me somewhere delicious and then pushed me off a cliff!"
Ah. Apparently my sincerity was running a little short.
"There were Sweet Berries at the bottom of that cliff—the kind that only bloom once a century. And I had all the safety equipment ready before I pushed you."
"You should have explained that beforehand!"
But where was the fun in that? Half the point was her reaction.
My young mistress had such a wonderfully expressive response to everything that I'd only teased her a little—and yet she refused to acknowledge that I genuinely wanted to feed her something delicious. It felt deeply unfair.
Besides, Sweet Berries were an essential early-game item that raised maximum mana by a full 1,000 upon consumption.
I let my young mistress's indignant chirping go in one ear and out the other.
My own physical condition was too pressing to get bogged down in the past. I decided to hear out her complaints about my unappreciated Sweet Berry generosity at some later, more leisurely time, and stepped up to the door of the dilapidated shed.
I lifted my cane and began tapping lightly on the old wooden door. It looked random, but there was a precise sequence to it.
Knock, knock, knock.
A pause.
Knock, knock.
Another beat of silence.
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.
After the final five taps, only the cool whisper of wind moved through the air around us.
"…You're using being sick as an excuse to drag me into another prank, aren't you."
Behind me, my young mistress muttered something along the lines of "and I trusted her again"—but I ignored it.
It's real, my lady. Just wait a moment.
Then.
A low hum resonated through the air.
Across the surface of what had appeared to be a perfectly ordinary wooden door, a complex web of blue mana circuits began to weave itself into existence. A moment later, a deep vibration rolled from within, and a commanding voice boomed out.
—[Who seeks entry!]
"The rightful heir of the great Drnaris House. Master of shadow magic. The Witch of Drnaris. The world's most adorable Aiolette Drnaris—and her perfect maid, Gladia!"
—[We know not who you are!]
The flat refusal came with a surge of mana through the door's circuits. Behind me, I could feel my young mistress bristle with an expression that said, "My name didn't work?!"
I gave a light, composed cough and knocked again.
—[Who seeks entry!]
"An unparalleled genius who entered Stellar Academy, holder of a brilliant 98-point record on her very first lesson. The future beacon who will lead the empire's magical world—my young mistress—and her perfect maid, Gladia!"
—[We know not such a person!]
"…Are you out of your mind?! Open up this instant!"
Her pride thoroughly scratched, my young mistress lunged forward to kick the shed door. I shot out a hand and caught her just in time, then knocked one final time.
—[Who seeks entry!]
"Merely two wretched humans."
At that, the unyielding voice softened, just perceptibly.
—[…Then enter.]
With a resonant hum, the barrier sealing the shed door dissolved, and a dark staircase descending underground revealed itself.
The intricate blue mana circuits that had covered the door's surface scattered quietly and vanished without a trace.
I leaned on my cane, smiled, and turned back to look at my young mistress.
"Ta-da. What do you think? I was right, wasn't I?"
"W-what is this?!"
My young mistress's voice shot up in a near-shriek at the sudden appearance of the underground passage. Her reactions really were something special. It made me want to tease her again and again.
"Come now, let's head down. If we stand here gawking and a professor or student walks by, things will get very tedious very quickly."
I gave her back a gentle nudge and steered her toward the stairs.
"W-wait! It's pitch black in there! I can't see a thing! Dia, stop pushing! You go first!"
"Now, now—it's all the same to me whether it's bright or dark, so asking me to lead the way seems a bit harsh, doesn't it?"
"When did I say anything like that!"
Truly, my young mistress had the most satisfying reactions.
"I'm joking. Here—take my hand. Just follow me."
I took hold of my young mistress's frozen wrist and stepped forward into the darkness of the underground staircase.
We descended for quite some time, and gradually the sensation underfoot shifted from smooth stone steps to uneven, rough ground.
A rush of damp air swept up from somewhere deep below, carrying with it a faint, briny smell of water. More striking than anything else, though, was the feel of the mana. Without even focusing my Heart-Sight, I could sense it clearly with every breath—thick, viscous mana drifting through the air like something alive.
"Wait…… what is this place?"
My young mistress, who had been gripping my hand like a lifeline, stopped dead in her tracks. A tremor of unease ran through her.
"This isn't a normal basement! This is a dungeon! Why is there a dungeon under the academy?!"
Having sensed the space's abnormal scale and the ominous weight of mana pressing in from the dark, my young mistress cried out in alarm.
I clicked my tongue softly and shook my head.
Really, my lady. It's common knowledge that there's a dungeon beneath the academy. Say something like that in public and people will think you've been living under a rock.
***
A dungeon.
When mana accumulates in a fixed area over a long period of time, it crystallizes into a mana stone. The surrounding environment then undergoes a transformation around that stone, giving rise to what is known as an otherworldly space.
Such places are typically inhabited by various monsters drawn to the mana stone's power, and the more mana stored within the stone, the greater and more formidable the monsters that take up residence there.
Now, here was the question.
How much mana would be stored in a dungeon's mana stone formed near the nest of a dragon—a creature sometimes called the god of magic?
The answer was…
"Dia! I swear, when we get out of here, you are dead!!!!!"
"You've got this, my lady~"
An absolutely staggering amount.
At present, Gladia and Aiolette were fighting their way through the dungeon, cutting down monsters that had sensed the intrusion and come swarming.
The full lineup was on display—goblins and slimes, naturally, but also orcs, and even boss-tier creatures like twin-headed ogres and chimeras that would have been the centerpiece of any ordinary dungeon. It was less of a dungeon and more of a clearance sale on monsters.
For most people, the sight of that horde charging in unison would have been nothing short of catastrophic. But the opposition was poorly matched.
"Ugh, so annoying!"
Aiolette flicked her fingers, and a tide of deep shadow surged up from beneath her feet.
The darkness lashed out like a whip toward the orc pack rushing in from all sides.
Crack!
Shadow Control—a 1st Circle dark-attribute spell.
It was Aiolette's signature technique: infusing a shadow with mana to give it a virtual physical mass, then manipulating it freely.
In its original form, the spell was a simple, foundational piece of magic—barely capable of exerting any physical force, useful only for minor assistance and support.
But Aiolette's vast reserves of mana made a mockery of that conventional wisdom.
The shadow rising from beneath her feet shifted into the shape of a razor-edged blade and sheared through the orcs' limbs. Arms and legs spun through the air; blood sprayed in every direction. The scene rivaled any slasher film for sheer brutality.
But Aiolette mk.42—evolved far beyond her original parameters through Gladia's influence—showed no sign of stopping at the sight of it.
A chimera lunged next. She carved off its massive forelimbs, then gestured, and the shadow pooled across the ground opened its jaws. An enormous maw rose from the darkness and swallowed the chimera's torso whole.
In the same motion, she swept her hand through the air, and the shadows drifting overhead fractured into hundreds of black needles that scattered in every direction.
The needles did more than simply pierce. The goblins they skewered couldn't even scream—they were corroded by the shadow, crumbling to dust where they stood.
The remaining monsters had begun backing away, too afraid to approach her, but Aiolette showed no intention of stopping.
Her shadow spread across the walls like a living thing, perfectly sealing off every avenue of retreat.
Once the monsters' escape routes were completely blocked, Aiolette raised one hand toward the air above her.
The shadows from every direction began converging on a single point, as though being drawn into a vacuum.
Snap.
She flicked her finger, and the small sphere that had formed at her fingertip expanded with an ominous sound.
A sphere of absolute black—dark enough to swallow light itself.
It was Aiolette's finishing move: shadow mass compressed to its absolute limit, capable of crushing anything it touched into nothing.
Gladia called it Murasaki. Aiolette called it Shadow Hole.
Bang!
With a light, sharp report, the sphere launched forward like a cannonball.
There was no explosion. The monsters simply ceased to exist—unable to even scream—flattened to dust along the path the sphere carved through them.
The gravity sphere scraped across the floor, swept through the monsters, and only came to rest after punching through the far wall of the dungeon.
Silence fell over the dungeon in an instant.
Every trace of the monsters that had been swarming moments before was gone. Only the deep gouge carved into the floor remained as proof that something had just passed through.
"…Got them all."
Aiolette walked through the drifting remnants of the monsters that had been reduced to dust.
The battle had just ended, and her mana was still running high—with every step she took, the shadows around her swayed and rippled as if dancing.
Behind her, Gladia approached with an unhurried stride.
Unlike Aiolette, who was coated head to toe in grime and dust, Gladia's maid uniform was spotless—not a single speck of dungeon dirt on it. She brushed a nonexistent smudge from her apron with her fingertips, then came to stand beside Aiolette without a hair out of place and without having broken a sweat.
"As expected of my young mistress. Truly magnificent."
Aiolette's gaze snapped to Gladia, sharp and dangerous.
She had followed along on the promise of being taken somewhere wonderful, only to find herself thrown into a mob of monsters fighting for their lives. And then Gladia had spent the entire battle cheering from the back—"You've got this, my lady!"—only to stroll out the moment it was over as though nothing had happened, not a speck of dust on her.
If she weren't a patient right now, I'd—!
Aiolette's lips trembled with barely contained fury. The sight of Gladia's immaculate uniform, not a single particle of dust on it, felt particularly insufferable today.
She was just about to turn her head away in disgust when—
"My lady, one moment."
Gladia reached into her pocket and produced a clean handkerchief. She began carefully, attentively wiping the smudges of dirt from Aiolette's cheek.
Gladia couldn't see—that much was certain—and yet her hands moved with extraordinary precision and care.
"You moved so vigorously that your face is a mess. We can't have something like this on such a pretty face."
A low, unhurried voice. Aiolette had been about to swat the hand away, but the moment Gladia's cool fingertips made contact, she hesitated.
Gladia gave her no time to grumble. She tidied Aiolette's face with meticulous thoroughness, brushing away even the dust at the corner of her mouth.
"There. Clean now, isn't it?"
Gladia smiled faintly and tucked the handkerchief away. Aiolette felt heat rush to her face and turned sharply away.
"…Hmph. Flattery from someone who can't even see."
The grumbling in her voice had lost most of its edge. Aiolette absently touched the cheek where Gladia's hand had been, then turned and walked on into the dungeon with long, purposeful strides.
Though, of course, she kept her pace just a little shorter than usual—so Gladia wouldn't fall behind.