Chapter 70: Forged Bonds and the Crushing Onslaught
Ash and Adria were the ones knocking on the door. The two of them grinned brightly, covered head to toe in dirt.
"You two okay? We grabbed some banana milk and chocolate milk on the way."
"What the hell happened to you guys?"
"Sparring got a little rough. Professor sent us to the infirmary."
"Eh, whatever. Come on in."
"Oh, and this is for Eodukshini."
Eodukshini snatched a divine stone and happily sealed the door crack again with a blissful look.
Hmm, should I tell these guys too?
...Probably fine.
Ash was stronger than me. Our raw skills might be even, but her experience and know-how as a regressor were still beyond what I could match.
Adria came from noble blood. As the tenth imperial princess, she might rank a bit lower, but she'd enrolled as a top student and celebrity idol, drawing tons of attention.
Jenella. What do you think?
Yeah... Hmm, might be okay to tell them...
Adria's lips twisted as she watched us whispering.
"You two getting pretty close, huh? Leaving me out to hang together."
"Hang? We were working."
"Mosik Karma was with you, right?"
"Can't have you getting hurt."
"...You're worried about me?"
"Wanna bet I ain't? I don't wanna see you dead."
Her twisted smirk softened back to normal.
She cleared her throat awkwardly and plopped onto the bed.
"Ahem. So, what were you two whispering about?"
"Well... Ah, it'd be perfect if Mosik was here too."
"Want me to fetch him?"
"Nah—"
Knock knock!
Someone else knocked right then.
I opened the door to find Mosik drenched in sweat, reeking of blood and musk.
I asked with a welcoming grin.
"Oh, what's up?"
Mosik deadpanned.
"Messed up on bench press. Hurt myself."
"..."
Isn't it class time?
"...Uh, yeah. Come in."
"Thank you."
"Oh my! What happened? You're beat to hell!"
"Bench press..."
Mosik got treated and shuffled into our room. I stared at him point-blank.
"Where'd you get hurt?"
"Ribs and ligaments. Hairline fracture on the bone, stretched ligaments."
"Your organs okay?"
"Healthy enough to sell. This much, my muscles can han—"
"...Yeah, sure. Tough guy."
But seriously, why during class?
It's supposed to be liberal arts, right??
Why bench press???
And how the hell do you crack ribs on it????
"...Eh, as long as it's not serious."
I dropped it. Basically gave up trying to understand.
"Sit here."
"Tight fit."
"No choice. Unless you shrink, but nah."
"Fair enough."
Mosik crammed his massive frame into the corner.
Finally, everyone was here.
Just in case, I thought about pulling out a mana oath contract... but didn't.
...I can trust 'em.
Having lived my past life without family, friends, or lovers, trusting anyone felt weird.
Believing in my goddess Arcana was natural, but extending credit to others? Tough. No clue how.
But these were friends. Not one-offs—we shared secrets already.
"No mana oath?"
Ash picked up on what I was about to say. I nodded.
"Nah. You're good. Jenella, you?"
"...I'm okay too."
Bonds between people.
Time to trust one.
"What? What is it? Don't leave me out again!"
"...That's what happened."
Adria sniffled, wiping her eyes before hugging Jenella tight.
"Must've been rough."
"...Yeah. A bit."
Two beauties with killer curves embracing—my eyes were feasting. Yeah, this is happiness(?).
"Those guys always creeped me out."
Adria's eyes blazed.
"That so-called Sage kept pushing engagements on me, my sisters, everyone. Age gap too big, so he tried hitching me to that gross spinach-head instead. Total bullshit."
"Trash."
"Right! That bastard doesn't deserve 'Sage.' He's a beast!"
"I know about the Sage too. He even approached me once."
Eyes turned to Ash. She shrugged.
"Offered me a spot in his experiments. Said it'd make me real nobility, not quasi."
"Experiments?"
"Yeah. If I'd said yes, I'd probably be one of those Black Forest corpses we saw."
"...The Sage's evils are infamous among nobles. Even my count father keeps him in check."
Mosik chimed in.
"My father doesn't fancy himself a saint, but he takes noble pride and duty seriously. The Sage ditched all that. He's a madman now. That's why I went with you last time to right wrongs, Eugene-nim. Father's probably fueling the rumors spreading now. And Duchess Neona Solari's stepping up too."
The Arishion family had no allies.
Enemies everywhere.
They'd rip off limbs at the first gap.
"...But the Sage isn't moving."
"That's what's bugging me too."
The Sage was top-tier on the continent, sure. But he was a noble.
As the scandal worsened, his power, influence, honor would tank.
Normally, he'd thrash wildly to protect himself... so why sit still?
Not small fry attacking—duchesses too. One slip, he's done. Maybe already crumbling.
Soon, Arishion wouldn't be a "prestigious magic house" but a "degenerate black mage clan."
But why?
What was he after?
Calm before the storm.
Some might think Arishion was just waiting it out, but not me.
A madman dabbling in ancient monsters and human experiments wouldn't sit idle.
"...Gotta crush 'em fast."
"Agreed. Who knows what that psycho'll do."
"Any ideas? Brainstorm."
We tossed out plans.
"Spread rumors the Sage is impotent. No heir."
"Helpful? He has one."
"Then kill the heir."
"We can't handle that."
"Hmm, best is proving Arishion has no 'future.' Can't touch the Sage, so expose weak spots or ruin the heir. Don't need to kill—just neuter his power."
"But the kid's innocent."
"No."
Ash shook her head.
"You'll see later."
She locked eyes with Jenella.
"Jenella."
"Y-yeah?"
"In spars, always match Bulria. Draw's fine, win's better. Show the heir's incompetence, and the house crumbles."
"What if Sage snaps? We're all dead."
"We stick to Sky Island. Best teachers and principal are here. Safe."
Ash said with conviction.
"Key's Jenella. You can do it, right?"
"...Me?"
"Yes. You can."
"Yeah, you got this. Though I'd crush it better—urk!"
"Shut that trap. Shh!"
"...Eugene."
"Sorry. Joke."
Trying to lighten the mood. I glanced at Jenella. If she was pissed even a bit, I'd apologize...
"?"
Jenella was crying and smiling.
"Got it. Thanks for trusting me. I'll... make it happen."
...Not cuz of my joke, right?!
As exams neared, practical prep ramped up naturally.
Basic Swordsmanship.
"This exam's tournament-style spars. Random opponents, open to outsiders. Prep thoroughly."
Bam!
"Gah!"
"Weak sauce. Beat Mosik first."
"My big three went from 1000 to 1072. Tough."
Basic Alchemy.
"Now... the exam... announcement..."
Practical – Gather your own materials and brew the potion listed in the written exam.
Written – Memorize and apply potion-making processes.
"Note... other professors attending... so remember..."
"...Fuck. Fuck!"
"Bana— I mean, Your Highness? Swearing ruins your skin."
"Shut up."
"Yes ma'am."
Basic Mana Control.
"Exam's 1v1: steal control of my 'orb.' Like tug-of-war. Boost control and restraint. Pair up, two per team."
Basic History.
"Exam covers 728 BC to 1024 AD. Two hours straight—memorize properly."
Basic Divine Beast Studies.
"My exam's relay race with your divine beast. Not who finishes first, but perfect sync. Relax and enjoy!"
"P-professor, I can't summon yet."
"I'll lend you one."
Grrrrowl.
"...Huh?"
"Cute, right? Feline divine beast. Sweet thing won't hurt you."
"P-professor. That's a tiger?"
Insane exams.
Two weeks of professors grinding us dizzy.
But I didn't slack. Ran ragged during exam week.
"Special training!"
"What?"
Drilled Jenella, Adria, Mosik.
"Eugene! Special training!"
"Damn it."
Got drilled by Ash.
"Here. Head there."
Got intel from Professor Nipella Aoman, sowing seeds to topple the magic house.
House crumbled faster than expected. Turns out Arishion was already shaky—weakest duke house, heavy checks, past karma piling up, even from other dukes.
"Eugene-nim?"
"Yeah?"
"You okay? Dark circles."
My precious skin rotted from exhaustion, but fine.
Hope this is right.
My path. My chosen hero candidates.
I lured 'em, so own the responsibility.
"...Pulled an all-nighter."
Sky Academy's first exam dawned.
...Fell asleep?
Bulria dragged his groggy body up, feeling drops from his nose.
Nosebleed.
Last night, he'd replayed spars with Jenella endlessly, hunting openings... but always the same.
Draw.
Can't win. Might lose.
Losing brands him history's worst heir.
Would history even remember? In just a month—short time—Arishion was collapsing.
"...Meli."
"Yes, young master."
A bruised maid with an eyepatch entered.
He eyed her bizarre outfit—hard to look straight at—with disinterest and stood.
Thwack!
"...Urk!"
"No groaning. Speak only when told."
"S-sorry."
Study and magic research drained insane mental energy, fatigue stacking.
How to vent?
Bulria used lust and violence.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack-thwack!
"...Hic, ngh."
After beating Meli senseless, Bulria panted.
The butler entered.
"Young master. Family head calls."
"On my way."
"This maid?"
"Usual."
"Understood."
Bulria headed to his father's room. His steps faltered.
...Scary. But must go. This fear's from past memories, but skipping makes it present.
...Knock knock.
"Father."
—Enter.
Creeeak.
The study was dark. But bright. Bulria spotted something new.
A yellow gem on the central altar.
Brighter than gold, strange. The moment he saw it, unease hit.
Pulling him in. Impulse to grab it, violence surging. But reason screamed no. Don't touch. Don't stare long.
"...Father, this?"
"Son. Remember what I said?"
Bulria tore his gaze away. The Sage stood there.
A month of relentless grilling. Eyes blazing madder than ever.
"...Ace the exam."
"Yes. You must be the best. But rumors say you're drawing with a mere commoner."
His hands clamped Bulria's shoulders.
"You must be best. Succeed my apostle! What? Lapped by bloodless trash?"
Mana stirred. Activated the altar, linking to Bulria.
Bulria realized his intent.
Using that unknown gem's power. Instinct screamed: this crossed the line.
"F-Father."
"What?"
"...No, Father. You told me not to cross lines...!"
"You crossed first. Forgot your kid crimes?"
"Father...!"
"Shut up! If you weren't pathetic, if you excelled, if you hadn't slipped! If you hadn't crossed then, I wouldn't now."
Mana coiled his throat. Memories flashed like a kaleidoscope.
Past. He'd used the altar. Sacrifices: maids. Raped and beaten by young master—toys, discarded on altar, used. He'd crossed once.
Luckily, the altar's spell failed, link broke, memory wiped—no punishment.
After, deemed dangerous, altar destroyed. Should've been. But a grand mage glimpsed a fragment, revived the "ancient taboo spell."
And became top mage.
"You must be best."
Mad voice. No reason left in Sage. Unrestrained violent eyes evoked ancient monsters.