The First Step (2)
"Ugh, damn... Sylvia is ridiculously tough."
Ninety percent of the mana circulating through my body had completely drained away, scraping rock bottom. Every ounce of stamina had evaporated, leaving me with barely enough strength to keep puttering forward on foot.
Well, given who my opponent was, it made sense.
Vesta, Pallas, and the rest of the bastards who used to look down on me or pick fights—I had managed to beat them down one way or another, but Sylvia had always been an exception, even in the past timeline. Not once had I ever claimed a victory over her; in every previous clash, I was the one getting pushed back and beaten down.
Even if she was in Class C like the others, she was nothing like that arrogant rabble who bragged about being invincible or threw around blatant provocations.
This time was no different. The only reason I had pulled off a win was that I already knew her habits inside and out.
"Haah... I just hope this settles things somehow."
Those scumbags who thought looking down on Class D and E students was their god-given right. The nobles who trampled right over the Academy's founding ideals of equality and basic rights. Apparently, it had become customary for them to get an early jump on combat training like that, crushing the lower classes underfoot.
That was why I had been so desperate to wring a victory out of Sylvia, no matter what it took.
I didn't know the exact details, but I had heard that those crooked bastards only stood to gain if that rotten cycle kept repeating without a hitch. I figured that if I could sever that vicious cycle just once, it would throw a wrench into their plans, derailing whatever schemes were supposed to follow.
Professor Jake had told me to hold out until the end-of-term evaluations, but waiting around would only lead to a far worse catastrophe. Because at the entrance of the victory banquet held after the subjugation campaign in the northeastern region of Scheat, the students of Class D and E would end up erupting in fury against Sylvia.
Regardless, if Sylvia did show up, I now held a weakness of hers that I could use to talk back. After all, my right hand was currently clutching the ribbon she wore as my trophy.
"Though she'll probably run into Michelle soon anyway."
I had known Sylvia would hunt me down as her target, and it was true that I wanted to tangle up the nobles' plans. However, my real objective lay elsewhere. In fact, this other reason was far more fundamental.
Originally, I was supposed to suffer a total, crushing defeat at Sylvia's hands right here.
No matter how desperately I fought back, what class was she in? Class C. Closing a gap of not just one class, but two, was practically impossible; back then, all I could do was charge in on pure spite and stubbornness. Throwing my reckless body forward, getting knocked down, only to stagger back up. Charging blindly with relentless grit, devoid of any finesse or technique.
And just when Sylvia would pour in a massive surge of mana to keep me rolling in the dirt, ensuring I could never stand again—
That was when my first encounter with Michelle was supposed to happen.
At the very moment my defeat would be sealed, unable to resist Sylvia's finishing blow, Michelle would appear, nullify the spell, and bring the fight to a screeching halt. Following Michelle's intervention, Sylvia would back down, and Michelle would extend a helping hand to me as I lay battered on the ground. She would ask how I was doing, inquiring about the full story of how things had come to this. Then, upon hearing for the first time that lower-ranked classes were systematically bullied and hazed in this Academy, she would fly into a righteous fury.
She became an example that shattered all my prejudices against nobles and upper-class students, and she became my very first friend. Yet she was also a core member of Team Tembris, and the very person who had recommended me to join them. That was precisely why I had to avoid her.
...Thinking about that now left a somewhat bitter taste in my mouth, but it couldn't be helped.
There was one more thing. Even considering future events, the meeting between Michelle and Sylvia was absolutely necessary. It was tied directly to the downfall of the Coutelli Count family, a house that would later be publicly exposed for extending its corrupt claws all across the Principality. Since the Count family began to crumble just months after Sylvia—a member of House Coutelli—met Michelle, it wasn't hard to deduce that some pivotal incident revolved around Sylvia.
"Well, the rest will sort itself out."
If Sylvia was mindful of me, she wouldn't dare show her face at the banquet; I had cleanly avoided crossing paths with Michelle, a member of Tembris; and Michelle would have found Sylvia by now. All three objectives had been tidily achieved. That was more than enough to be satisfied with.
"...Though I guess today's training is completely out of the question."
My body was battered to pieces and I barely had the stamina to walk; how could I possibly drag myself to the training hall? I'd have to spend the rest of the day getting some solid rest in the dormitory.
Around the same time, Sylvia, having been discovered by Michelle, was soon moved to the infirmary.
"Where...?"
When Sylvia opened her eyes, an unfamiliar ceiling met her gaze. It was a place she had never once imagined she would end up in. Staring up at the infirmary ceiling, she felt the stiff medical bed pressed against her back.
Did I... faint? Then that means...
It meant she had lost. As her memories from before losing consciousness gradually pieced themselves together, she remembered going easy on him at first, then panicking and throwing everything she had into the fight. Yet... the end result was Sylvia lying helpless in an infirmary bed. Even after fighting with everything she had, she had lost and passed out cold.
An E-class delinquent she had subdued with ease in the past seemed to have undergone a complete transformation, as if he had been grinding his teeth in preparation just for this moment. To the point where, even if they clashed again, she couldn't guarantee her victory.
However, Junon's skill wasn't what truly mattered to Sylvia right now. The real problem was why she was here—and why only one person was lying in bed, not two.
At a glance, it might have seemed like nothing more than a humiliating loss, but for Sylvia, it was a shove toward a bottomless precipice.
"No...!"
What if another noble had seen it? Or worse, what if a commoner had witnessed it? No, regardless of who they were, if even a single person had laid eyes on that scene, it would deal a fatal blow.
Rumors would spread like wildfire, and after being ostracized from noble society, word would follow that she had dragged her family's prestige through the mud. And the moment that reached the ears of the Count—
"I'll be excommunicated..."
Excommunication. It was a word that struck sheer terror into her heart. The moment she was cast out, she would lose all her rights as a noble and be thrown out of the Coutelli Count family without question.
Among commoners who naturally despised nobility, there wouldn't be a soul willing to lend a hand; if anything, she had forced some of them to their knees herself. And fellow nobles would be no different. Even fallen noble houses were subject to endless gossip, so the shadow of an excommunicated bastard child would become an inescapable, damning label.
There would be no one to help her, while those she had wronged would seize the chance for retribution.
Terrified of losing her noble status—her only remaining lifeline—Sylvia threw back the bedsheets and tried to slip into her shoes, despite her battered, unhealed body.
"Ngh..."
Simply bending at the waist to put on her shoes sent a violent wave of vertigo washing over her, courtesy of a body that had yet to recover from Mana Panic. To touch an active magic circle fueled by mana, shatter it, and warp the internal mana circuits... That was a technique she had never heard of, let alone learned.
The fatal blow Junon had dealt Sylvia.
Under the lingering effects of the Anti-Cast that exploited the principles of magic circles, Sylvia could barely keep herself upright. Clutching her throbbing head through a splitting headache, she heard footsteps approaching from outside the infirmary.
Had the rumors already spread far and wide, bringing nobles to mock her? Or was it commoners and lower-class students, flashing white teeth in gleeful, sneering derision? Or perhaps the news had already reached the Count, and his servants were arriving to deliver the decree of excommunication?
Whatever it was, the result was the same. To Sylvia, those footsteps sounded like the herald of her absolute isolation. But then...
"Oh? You're already awake. How are you feeling?"
Contrary to her dread, the person who walked in was a well-known honor student with a reddish-brown ponytail. A second-year Class A student renowned for having zero interest in slandering others, pouring all her focus solely into her studies and magic. It was Michelle Granodia.
"You little punk!"
"Guh!"
Did he resort to his bare fists just because he didn't have his attendance book on him? As his massive fist slammed straight down onto my head, I felt like a massive knot was instantly sprouting on my scalp. Seriously, this was way too harsh for a patient.
Professor Jake was as dead serious about throwing punches as he was about teaching, so my hands flew instinctively to the throbbing lump on my head.
"What in the world did you get up to in that short span of time to end up in this state? Didn't you hear me tell you to endure until the end-of-term evaluations?"
"Tsk..."
"I specifically told you not to cause trouble, and here you go again... Aigoo, my aching head..."
Sitting in a chair across from me, Professor Jake let out sigh after sigh of exasperation. Right after my fight with Sylvia, on my way back to the dorms, of all people, I had to run straight into him. How sharp were his eyes, anyway? Even from a distance, he clocked right away that I had just been in a brutal brawl and stamped me a one-way ticket straight to the infirmary.
"Gritting your teeth and raging won't solve anything. Avoiding and ignoring them whenever possible is a valid tactic too, you know."
If I could've done that, I wouldn't have stepped in in the first place. If I left things as they were, Sylvia would show up at the banquet, and then what? I had no choice either, Professor!
...I wanted so badly to blurt all that out. Of course, he would've treated me like a raving lunatic if I did.
"So, how's your body feeling?"
"As long as someone can fix up my uniform, I think I'll be fine."
"Hearing you fuss over your uniform is a relief. At least it doesn't look like you got wrecked as badly as that time."
Beneath his gruff words, seeing him worry deep down proved that Professor Jake truly had a soft heart. Though claiming he let me off easy with just a couple of punches because I was a 'patient' who skipped class wasn't exactly my idea of mercy.
"Right, now hurry up and press it."
With that, Professor Jake produced a black box. Taking in the black casing, a single button, and an empty digital display panel meant for text, the device looked distinctly familiar.
...No way, right? Did he bring me to the infirmary not out of fatherly concern, but just because of this??? No, couldn't be.
"Junon, I'd really love to clock out as soon as humanly possible."
It was true. Why was it actually true? Give me back my heartfelt touched moment!
"I need to get off work even a second earlier so I can call my wife. Hurry up and press the damn thing."
"..."
Staring at Professor Jake's radiant, beaming face at the prospect of going home, I firmly pressed the button on the box that drew partners for the end-of-term evaluation. With all the bitter intensity of a man thoroughly betrayed.
[ 2nd Year Class E Junon — 1st Year Class A Renias Pair ]