The First Clock Hand
Over the winter break, the Grand Duchy had admitted an influx of additional students and faculty dispatched from the Empire.
Bringing in more faculty was part of a calculated purge, sweeping out corrupt professors and installing fresh blood in their stead. While the newly arrived students had little direct hand in politics, if grievances arose when comparing their new environment to the Empire’s premier academy, Hardia, their very first recourse would naturally be turning to the professors they were familiar with. This, too, was among the Grand Duke’s and the imperial court's intended maneuvers.
Caught off balance, the noble coalition could scarcely conceal their growing anxiety and convened an emergency assembly.
“If things continue like this, won’t our entire institution end up staffed by imperial personnel?!”
“Then what do you propose we do? It is blindingly obvious the imperial court has planted spies among them!”
Though a handful of professors had managed to evade the Grand Duchy’s scrutiny by severing their ties and throwing scapegoats under the carriage, nearly twenty percent of Lebrant Academy’s staff was already composed of imperials. When it had been only a lone eccentric like Professor Jake, they had brushed it off, asking what one man could possibly accomplish—but with numbers swelling to this degree, the story changed entirely. If student grievances were relayed back to the Empire and triggered a joint investigation, the aristocrats stood to lose everything they had spent generations securing.
“Calm yourselves. It is not as though we are entirely without recourse.”
The figure standing at the helm of the coalition drew the hushed gaze of nobles and professors alike.
“We shall advance the schedule for this semester’s Joint Practical Training.”
“Move up the Joint Practical Training...? Professor Flocan, you truly mean to proceed with that?”
“Indeed. If the academy grounds are crawling with imperial staff, all we must do is pin the blame squarely on their incompetence and hold them accountable. Are there any objections?”
Not a single voice rose in dissent. Even if students suffered grievous harm in the process, the nobles refused to loosen their white-knuckled grip on power—even if doing so rattled the very foundation of the Ardellion Grand Duchy.
Meanwhile, today was the day when travelers and returning scholars arrived in droves in response to the Grand Duchy's personnel requests sent to the Empire.
Among them, the young head of the Eshrelt barony, a girl who had traveled to the imperial lands on guild business, set foot once more upon her homeland. Yet something seemed terribly amiss with her.
⟨ I shall turn the first hand of the clock. ⟩
“Lady Charlotte! Are you alright?!”
“H-Haa... haa... Who... who is that...?”
“Milady...?”
If it had been mere seasickness, it would have been manageable. But the agonizing reality was that the voice echoed in Charlotte’s mind alone.
⟨ Unto you who committed the sin of impulse: receive the karmic retribution of your past. ⟩
“Ugh... What in the world is this...!”
While the crowd around her moved unbothered, the moment Charlotte stepped onto the soil of the Ardellion Grand Duchy, an ethereal woman’s voice began ringing through her skull. Gripped by a blinding headache, Charlotte collapsed to her knees, tears spilling unbidden down her cheeks.
⟨ Remember. Behold what consequence the blade in your hand wrought. ⟩
“Even if everyone else acknowledges you, I will never accept you, Sunbae.”
“Why are you even staying in this party when you’re utterly useless? You’re just holding everyone back!”
“It’s all your fault... It was always because of you! This entire party was dragged down and broken to pieces because of one incompetent fool like you!!”
“Ah... Ahhh...”
“Milady!! Please, someone help us! My lady has collapsed!!”
Charlotte Eshrelt lost consciousness right then and there, drowned in the sudden, torrential influx of memories from a tragedy she had never lived.
Winter break would end tomorrow. To most, that simply meant preparing for the upcoming semester. But for me, the warning bells chiming for what lay a few days ahead carried a much heavier burden. Today was the day the supplementary personnel from the Empire—exchange students and instructional faculty alike—were scheduled to arrive.
“Another member of the Tembris Party, huh.”
So far, the Tembris members who had directly crossed paths with me or been entangled in events around me were Michel and Senia. Aside from them, Erika—Michel’s partner during the End-of-Semester Evaluation—was also present in the capital, though fortunately we had never met. The rest seemed to have been handled well enough.
But if another one gets added to the mix?
Need I even ask? Obviously, another monumental headache was barreling straight toward me. Sure enough, among the personnel arriving today was one of Tembris’s core figures.
“Charlotte, of all people...”
Charlotte Eshrelt. A girl bearing the distinct title of the youngest head of the Baron Eshrelt household, and someone who was slated to be paired up with me.
The story of how her deadbeat parents abandoned her under a crushing mountain of debt, only for her to roll up her sleeves and pay off every copper coin on her own, remained widely celebrated. Her unique magic had sprouted at thirteen, bloomed at fourteen, and after returning from the battlefield, she reportedly cleared the staggering debt in a single lump sum. Having established herself as the undisputed master of her family, she claimed the title of house head at an astonishingly young age. After catching the Grand Duke’s eye, she was sent to the Empire on commercial guild business.
The problem was the timing of her return: she was arriving just as winter break drew to a close, right in time for the Start-of-Semester Evaluation kicking off the first semester of our third year.
To make matters worse, the Start-of-Semester Evaluation was strictly locked in as a Joint Practical Training... and I was destined to be assigned to the exact same team as Charlotte. If I could buy enough time to scramble the pairing order like I did during the End-of-Semester Evaluation, that might be one thing. But the Start-of-Semester Evaluation drew its rosters directly from the previous semester’s class rankings, leaving virtually no room for variation. In other words, I was fated to be teamed up with Charlotte for the practical exercise.
A heavy sigh escaped me.
In many ways, she was the most problematic variable of the upcoming semester. The fact that an encounter was virtually unavoidable made it deeply vexing. Still, that didn't mean there was no way through it.
If the past me had believed that one could achieve anything through relentless grit and practice, Charlotte was the polar opposite. She was the sort of person who believed everyone had a predetermined ceiling—that once a person reached the edge of their innate talent, no amount of effort would ever let them grow further. Do what suits your capabilities, and know your place in the right environment. That was the core philosophy of the Charlotte I had known.
“Well, given the circumstances, that mindset might actually work in my favor.”
Having already mapped out a plan to handle Charlotte, I unfolded the map of Lebrant I had acquired yesterday.
“The starting point... is right here.”
In Lebrant Academy, an institution that had boasted zero casualties in the ten years since its founding, the upcoming Joint Practical Training would claim its very first victims. The catastrophe in the third-year exercise was rooted squarely in the absence of competent vanguards. Teams without someone to hold the frontline, or filled with arrogant casters who sneered that frontliners were unnecessary dead weight, were wiped out and devoured by demonic beasts.
The starting point of that carnage was the Underground Waterway, and it would ultimately result in a devastating loss to the academy's fighting force. My plan was to move beforehand and nip that tragedy in the bud.
Junon was not the only one frequenting the training gym.
Intrigued by the conspicuous changes in Junon’s physique and prowess, another student had begun dedicating herself to physical conditioning. And introducing Senia to Goden fell naturally to Michel.
Senia shot a pointed, accusing glare at the friend who had dragged her there, but Michel merely whistled and looked away, feigning absolute ignorance.
“...So, to summarize, you’re saying you scouted me because I looked like an easy mark?”
“Haha! Sharp as a tack! I love people who catch on quick.”
“Doesn't that strike you as strange, though? Why me, of all people?”
“The gnikleg leaf. And the reklotre leaf. You suspected something was wrong with the river and tossed them in to test the water, didn't you? Out of every single student in this End-of-Semester Evaluation, you were the only one who tested the current like that.”
As luck would have it, Goden had been delayed while breaking down an ice bridge clumsily conjured by a hopeless partner. But while stuck there, he happened to spot Senia plucking leaves and casting them into the stream to examine its acidity and toxicity. Watching with keen interest, Goden had resolved to recruit the girl who had caught his eye—and since Michel already knew her, tracking her down took no time at all.
“Anyone that meticulous is more than qualified to pinpoint the weak spots of demonic beasts from the vanguard. Well? Think I’m wrong?”
Senia felt a lingering twinge of discomfort knowing her cautious habits had been laid bare by chance. Even so, she couldn't dispute Goden’s assertion that the academy's current class placement standards were rotten to the core.
“How far does this plan of yours actually go? Let me hear it before I decide.”
“Far enough for us to deploy on official subjugation campaigns as an independent party.”
The moment those words left his mouth, Senia's eyes went wide, and she nearly jumped out of her boots.
“What?! Are you out of your mind?! Stop talking nonsense! Making a name for ourselves in some academy practical is one thing, but how are mere students supposed to march out on real subjugation missions?!”
“You think this country is gonna change with anything less?”
“That’s...”
Once again, Senia found herself completely unable to refute Goden’s point. He was right. Uprooting the deeply entrenched rot plaguing the Ardellion Grand Duchy required achievements of that scale.
“I know you’ve got your own agenda, too,” Goden added casually. “Like whatever it is you’ve layered over yourself using borrowed mana. Aren’t you getting anxious? It’d be a real headache if someone found out, wouldn’t it?”
“Haah... Fine! I’ll do it, alright?”
“Deal. Glad to have you on board.”
And with that, the second recruit was secured. The core members of Tembris were steadily gathering, just as they had in the previous timeline—with the sole exception of Junon.
“By the way, Michel,” Goden called out, “what about your partner?”
“My partner...? Ah, Erika, from the evaluation?”
“Yeah. Sounds like she’s just as fed up with the nobility’s nonsense as we are. Thought she’d make a great candidate for our next member.”
Michel and Erika had met for the first time during the End-of-Semester Evaluation, and both shared a deep aversion to the exhausting pretenses of the aristocracy. Magical affinities aside, their personalities and temperaments aligned remarkably well, allowing them to form an effortless bond. Michel agreed that Erika would likely welcome the offer, and stepped out immediately to get in touch with her.
Seeing his chance, Goden drew his massive weapon.
“Well then, how about a quick spar while we wait for them to arrive?”
“Hah. As if I could beat you? Don’t be ridiculous—”
“Like I said earlier, your unique magic has already sprouted. I’m just here to help force it into full bloom, so quit whining and take what’s coming to you!”
Before the sentence was even finished, Goden lunged without warning, initiating a brutal spar designed to awaken Senia’s unique magic through sheer combat instinct.
Charlotte, who had collapsed the moment she stepped off the transport vessel, had been rushed straight to a nearby medical clinic. The physician had asked whether she had been subjected to severe mental strain recently, to which her handmaiden could only shake her head in bewilderment. Amid that hurried exchange, Charlotte’s eyelids slowly fluttered open.
“Lady Charlotte! Are you awake?”
“Ugh... Where...”
“You are at a clinic, milady. The physician believes it was a fainting spell brought on by severe stress. Have you been under any unbearable strain lately?”
It seemed the voice that had rattled her skull was no longer resounding. For now, Charlotte desperately needed time alone to gather her shattered thoughts.
“...It seems I was merely fatigued. I have been shouldering an excessive workload of late.”
“I see. Please do not push yourself so hard. Allowing such exhaustion to persist will take a severe toll on your health.”
Leaving behind a simple prescription, the physician stepped out of the ward. At the same time, Charlotte dismissed her handmaiden outside, explaining that she needed a quiet moment to rest.
Left entirely alone in the quiet clinic room, Charlotte cast her mind back to what had unfolded right before she lost consciousness.
“What in the world were those memories...?”
What had accompanied that blinding headache were recollections she could neither comprehend nor accept.
“Did I really... say such things? Did I truly act like that...?”
Her head spun with unresolved questions. As she approached the tail end of those fractured memories, her fingers tightened white-knuckled around the bedsheets.
She had no idea what kind of horrific future had unfolded in the Grand Duchy according to those foreign memories. All she knew was that her future self—a self from a timeline that had never come to pass—had completely lost her composure, pouring out venomous, hysterical hatred toward a single person.
“Junon... wasn’t it?”
The man standing at the epicenter of that tragic storm. It seemed she would have to seek him out and see him for herself.