Chapter 14
Chapter 14
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: Wings of Rebellion
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For example.
Imagine it's two in the afternoon, you have a lunch appointment, and you're clutching your empty stomach on the way to meet them.
Then you catch a whiff of belly manju wafting from the subway station.
Everyone would say the same thing.
"Possible."
Of course, we know that scent, we've tasted it, so we can resist the temptation. But in a place with garbage infrastructure like this, snacks are a luxury.
Now, what if you let the smell of belly manju spread in a spot like that?
"Sniff. Haah. Sniiff!"
"Huff. Huff. Huuuff!!"
They'd just stare at you with burning eyes and wail like zombies.
The freshmen are still at the Colosseum... no, the plaza.
Only the students setting up nearby stalls are drooling as they look our way.
"Ughhh... grrrraaah."
"...Grrraaah."
Hey, back off, you lot. This isn't for you—it's for those cute freshmen over there.
Anyway, this is basically right before a zombie apocalypse.
"All done."
"...Yeah. Prep the next one."
"Got it."
I placed the perfectly baked belly manju on the tray in front of the grilling machine and took a quick whiff.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing. Just nothing."
I shook my head at Nefti's question.
No big deal.
Just making sure it wasn't weed instead of belly manju.
I baked the next belly manju and pulled out some donut dough at the same time.
Mana stones that can power magic.
Short for mana power stones—they can do anything. Embed one in a weapon, and it can slice a person in half or fold them up.
For this event, I shelled out big bucks to rent a mana stone-powered freezer. A hundred fifty thousand rin for one day. For real.
Anyway, inside it: donut dough I'd prepped yesterday, chilled cream, and beans set up cold for instant "mix beans" whenever.
With prep done, I slowly baked the belly manju and donuts. That's when Nefti spoke up.
"Come to think of it, I remember Aila handling the freshmen 'orientation' this time."
"Yeah. That's right."
"I hope she doesn't go too hard on them..."
"She'll keep it moderate."
"That's for the best. When I went through it, it was intense."
"Mm."
I nodded like I knew all about it.
I'd wondered, Wasn't she the top second-year freshman? No, that was Eve, right? But if Eve had been top and gone through orientation, it'd be imperial treason—whole family wiped out. Who'd be crazy enough to spar the princess in front of a hundred thousand people?
So that's why they picked Nefti: top entrance scores, commoner, no big backing.
"I don't remember well... who did you fight?"
"Jewel Sword Isolde senior."
"Right. How far did she go?"
"Ruby, I think."
"Not bad."
Honestly, I was a little surprised.
Jewel Sword Isolde.
Personality's trash of the trash tier—her tension and likability maintenance are a total mess—but her skills crush all that. Total cheat character.
She starts with weak, soft gem swords, summons the next when it breaks, and they get insanely strong later on.
Anyway, ruby is the third sword. For a first-year like Nefti to force that? She's a monster among monsters.
But even Nefti and Jewel Sword Isolde pale next to one person.
The Hero of Light, Kelters.
"Light pierces all darkness, infiltrating everywhere equally in this world." "That is why it is light."
⟨ Light's Essence ⟩
Kelters's greatest talent is literally "he can be anything." Archmage, great merchant, mighty knight, deepest assassin—he can do it all.
And considering the rumored power of his weapon... even Aila might have a tough time.
Hold up.
I'd sworn in front of her that Aila would win.
What if she loses?
"Wolfram's eyes are full of knots! Let me shove my black crystal in there!" And jams a black crystal spear into my eye?
Hmm.
Only counter I can think of right now: prepare bribes.
"Nefti. If we don't sell out today..."
"I'll rally the Knight Division students and sell every last one."
"You can do that?"
Where's that Sword of Conviction?
"Fry up a full set right now. Quick."
"You don't have to if you're giving it to me."
"It's not for you... Wait, no. Make it two sets, including for you. Actually, set aside a few sets generously. For lunch."
"Yes, sir!"
Nefti, who'd looked downcast for a second, lit up and nodded.
She mixes the perfect combo, scarfs it down, and wants more?
Anyway, bake, bake, bake—and then footsteps from afar.
Heading this way.
The scent bomb, belly manju, drawing in the hungry horde.
Fresh-faced freshmen.
"...Alright, Nefti. The war begins."
"My loyalty is yours. Trust in me."
Oh, I trust you.
If I don't, we're all dead anyway.
Aila Trista was gifted with exceptional talent.
But she knew the world was vast, full of those greater than her gifts.
Trista family's top prodigy. Already wielding 7th-tier 【Super Enhancement】 buffs.
Flying high as third-year Magic Division vice-top.
But separate from that, she found this pre-ceremony dreadfully boring.
Boring as hell.
Honestly, she didn't even know why she was here. Third-year vice-top was no pride for her—just shame.
So the arrogant Eve von Loengrin's speech, and the clueless first-years below dreaming bright futures with sparkling eyes? All annoying.
Academy rules: third-year vice-top orients the first-year top. Total garbage duty, but she had to bow for now.
This sucks. Watching Wolfram's wings of rebellion would be way more fun.
Aila sighed deeply.
Wolfram von Loengrin.
Her fiancé.
Unlike her, utterly talentless, stuck at rock bottom—but his eyes shone brighter than anyone's here.
From the very bottom, gazing up top. A lone will to walk toward the heavens.
She was already excited for his path, eager to be his star player on that stage—or front-row audience if not.
Rebellion shines brightest when the lowest aims highest.
To Aila, Wolfram's rebellion was truly beautiful.
At least there was something worth watching.
That loathsome rival's speech: Eve von Loengrin's student council address.
Curiously, Eve didn't mention Wolfram.
Everyone here except the freshman chicks knew what kind of council president he was. Declaring "down with Wolfram" would corner him or boost her support.
Best politics: divide, vilify, stir chaos, agitate.
Just dropping his name achieves all that. But she didn't.
Imperial honor? Or some reason Aila didn't know?
Just not badmouthing him made Aila think Eve's new council manifesto was decent.
Lost in those thoughts briefly, Aila sighed softly as Eve called her name.
Worst part of the day.
"Please take care of me! Kelters here!"
"...Likewise. Third-year Magic Division vice-top, Aila Trista."
Quick greetings exchanged, Aila eyed the boy.
Sparkling eyes burning with refusal to lose.
Normally, she'd never want to crush a kid like this, but Wolfram said show him "class" and break him completely.
Only then would he qualify to follow her.
...Then prove that qualification now.
Aila stared at Kelters and threw a cheap taunt she wouldn't normally.
"Alright. One promise."
"Y-Yes?"
"I use black crystal offensively just once. Block it, and you win."
"Got it! Senior!"
Feeling slighted? His eyes burned fiercer.
Whatever.
At the referee's signal, they spread out. Aila took stance; the boy drew his greatsword from his back.
One black crystal to his forehead, and he'd fly out of bounds. Power control was her specialty.
He'd flop like a dead frog; she'd descend gracefully.
But nagging her was his advice.
Wolfram.
Her sole acknowledged comrade in rebellion.
He knew the boy, was wary, even advised her.
'Watch the charge,' he said.
If he said so, better heed it.
"Come at me first, boy."
"...Yes!"
Yielding first strike, Aila's eyes widened.
Impressive. He's got some moves.
Freakish charge speed. Solid even for second-year Knight Division.
Straight line, shortest path, resolve to cleave her—packed with power.
Low body, waist-slashing strike: ferocious, brutal.
Freshman spirit.
Senior responds with elegant block.
A black crystal barrier rose instantly between them.
Like a crystal flower blooming beautifully, fully blocking the path.
No normal human body pierces it.
Attacker's options: leap over or go around.
The boy who'd charged low would likely circle—eight out of ten times.
Standard thinking, textbook play.
But.
The boy's voice from beyond signaled continued charge. Kwa-duk! The barrier shattered.
Black crystal scattering.
Barrier gone, faces unobstructed.
Knight with distance, mage who yielded it.
Split-second.
Aila saw two things.
One: the boy's glowing red sword.
Two: his unrelenting eyes.
Breakthrough unbroken, sword thrusting full force to smash her.
"Ah-ha."
That's why he warned about the charge.
Solid advice. Wolfram through and through.
Aila smiled lightly and swung her hand.
If Wolfram were here, he'd gape in shock.
In the original story he knew, she'd take this hit and resent Kelters until collapsing in Act 3.
But now, proud black crystal twisted her fate.
Jeojjeok. Jjeojjeok. Jja-jja-jja-jjak!
Shattered barrier reformed like rewinding time, filling every gap between them.
Thrusting sword.
Charging body.
Stamping feet.
Unstoppable charge—all impaled in black crystal.
On this stage, only Aila could move.
She crossed her arms gracefully, met Kelters's eyes.
Straining desperately, but not a twitch.
Eyes blazing—not fierce flames, just lukewarm.
Wings of rebellion?
No.
Wings this small won't fly.
Rin't make her heart race.
Arms still crossed, she loaded one black crystal and fired.
"Kwek!"
One shot, as promised.
Undeniable perfect victory.
"Hope Wolfram's donuts don't sell out. Looking forward to them most today."
Not sparing a glance at frog-flopped Kelters, Aila turned toward her fiancé's stall.
Long story short: the shop was swamped.
"One cream donut, one vanilla donut here!"
"Three belly manju!"
"Two smoothies!"
Bread and drinks flying off endlessly.
Nefti sold at inhuman speed.
Amazing. Twenty percent commission's no loss.
"Three belly manju please!"
"One cream donut! Two strawberry donuts!"
"Strawberry shake beans!"
"Nefti. Hiring you might've been the right call."
"If you're saying that, help out?!"
"No, I need to prep for the battle ahead."
"Isn't this the final battle already?!"
"Three belly manju!"
"Yes, coming right up!"
It's going great.
Too great.
I glanced at my blade, then Nefti baking away, pondering: accept death or bolt now and scheme survival?
What if Aila lost to Kelters?
Furious Aila shows up?
Jabs a black crystal spear in my gut?
"Nah, she won't kill me outright. Offer tribute, win favor."
"Whose favor?"
Death spoke suddenly.
"Oh, Aila?"
"Yeah. Selling well, Wolfram."
Glanced at her—odd smile. Happy? Or death-counting grin? Can't tell.
"Of course. This is baseline."
"Knew it."
Damn. Win or lose? Where to bet?
Act busy to dodge?
"Super busy now. Talk later."
"Weren't you doing nothing? That's why I spoke up."
Ah.
"Hm. Was on break. Back to work now."
"Aha. Hehe. Seeing it boom feels good. Part of the plan?"
"Obviously. Makes my strategy flawless."
"Oh my."
My eyes screamed "live!" in flames, but clueless Aila beamed.
"What's so funny?"
"No, just... nice eyes. Oh."
"Hm? What?"
Noise drowned it. Did she say gouge them? Nah?
"Nothing. Ahem. Anyway, selling this fast means sold out soon. Shame, wanted to try some."
"...Not that."
"Huh?"
I nodded at a separately wrapped bag.
"Take it. Your share."
"Why? Looks low stock."
Why? It's my life insurance!
No, can't say that. She might actually collect.
Ambiguous phrasing. Room for interpretation.
"Boring match, right? Take it, cheer up."
"...You know everything. Yeah, totally boring."
"Thought so?"
"Yep."
"I see."
"Yes."
So, did you win or lose?!
Gotta match my reaction!
"Heh, hm. Yeah. So take it."
"Okay. It'll cheer me up."
"Good."
"Oh, right. Can I swing by the convenience store later?"
Why?
Sudden visit talk?
Hid surging dread, barely nodded. Aila smiled brighter than ever, skipped off lightly.
Anyway, survived for now.
"Phew. Made it."
"I'm dying. Help already?!"
"...Fine, I'll help. Stop eyeing my sword and me."
"...I'll try."
Still flirting with death, but I survived another day.