Chapter 180
Chapter 180
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 180
Chapter Title: Brownie
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Aila stared at the bar with sparkling eyes, unable to contain her pounding heart.
It felt like her excitement had turned into musical notes fluttering through the sky.
A faint twinge of guilt weighed on her chest.
"Regina Cielra, who you could normally beat easily, has started to see you as a real threat. You sure that's okay?"
But Aila just gazed at me with eyes still glittering brightly and smiled.
"Wolfram, that's such a weird thing to say."
"Weird?"
"Yeah. How can my victory shine if my opponent's not even going all out?"
"Hm."
With that, Aila crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and let out a triumphant snort.
It was so perfectly Aila that I couldn't help but smile myself.
Yeah.
This is Aila Trista.
"Regina Cielra is a rival I'll have to fight for ten, twenty years after leaving Jefrin Academy—maybe my whole life. She's only going to get stronger. If I can't beat her when she's actually serious here in Jefrin? ...Then my rebellion's doomed to fail!"
Her upright, forward-only stride, always fair and square—that's why Aila Trista shines.
"Got it. Then I'll go all out to help you too."
"Thanks."
If I'm helping, the goal has to be total victory.
Her magic power's about on par now, so time to set up her gear properly.
Let's see.
Where should I start?
Hm.
Aila's a battle mage—or warlock, whatever you call it—a mid-range caster.
Magic power of 20, dexterity of 17.
Of course, she's never been used in a party before, but that still gives her a unique position.
She could transclass into an all-rounder like Isolde Cruel, viable all the way to the late game.
To make that happen, I need to kit her out right—and that's no easy task.
You can only equip one item per slot, officially because multiples risk magic interference.
Sure, stacking would be OP, but good gear's hard to come by in this world anyway.
And on top of that, she's got agility and close-range minerals for a mage.
...No, as a boss, she packs the trickiest traits to counter, but as a party member? It just leaves me thinking, What do I even equip her with?
Melee? Ranged? Or the forbidden all-rounder?
For a fixed party, her positioning should center on "ranged bombardment," obviously. But that alone won't beat Regina Cielra.
So... I need something that'll make a real difference.
Time for an expedition! Big investment, big returns!
This one looked like it'd be a hassle, so I decided to check with Eve first.
I had permission for forbidden zones, but the spot I had in mind was a bit special.
Silpia was stretching in front of the student council room.
"Wolfram? Long time no see."
"Silpia, huh. What're you up to?"
"Training. Got a spar with that detestable Isolde soon. Doing it like you taught me... but you're here for the lady?"
"Yeah. Eve inside?"
Silpia nodded, and I brushed past her to open the student council president's door.
What I saw inside was Eve, facedown on her desk.
"...Ugh...... Hng......"
Eve was snoring with weird noises leaking from her mouth.
Good thing I wasn't pegged as a suspect in a sudden Eve murder and chased out of Jefrin, but she showed no signs of waking.
"Siii...... Shuu...... Hng."
Truly bizarre breathing.
Where'd her imperial dignity go? Well, even royals can't snore with majesty.
I pull it off, of course. Insane skill.
Comparing my 【Imperial Bloodline】 with Eve's...
Even sharing royal blood, manifestations differ. Mine's probably authority and dignity. If not... who knows.
Hm.
No way. What if this is Eve von Loengrin's low, dirty trick?
Pretending to sleep to block my expedition talk at the root?
...Can't rule it out.
Time to test if she's really asleep.
Shake her awake? No way—that barrier kicks in, instant combat mode.
Pump mana to wake her? She could just fake through it. ...Guess I need a spell to wake her for sure.
Tease her just a little, and she'll bolt up pissed.
Just a light poke, nothing much.
"Hey. Belly fat."
I blurted it out!
I'm dead!
Tried to play it cool, but my mouth overdid it.
Terror-struck, I prepped a backstep for her reaction...
But Eve didn't budge.
"......Pshuuu."
Hm.
Guess she really is asleep.
Phew.
She's not usually out like this—must be exhausted.
Makes sense: cleanup from the last expedition, recent diet stuff. No rest for her.
She's just crashed out.
I could come back later, but with my own backlog, I sank into the guest sofa, lost in thought. A book would've been nice, but no dice—eternal regret.
As I pondered amid her weird snores, planning to report and prep for expedition once she woke—
Knock knock. The door creaked open softly.
"Report for the lady... Wolfram? The lady's... ah."
"Yeah. Sleeping."
"I see. Hm......"
"Something that needs immediate handling?"
Silpia looked troubled, then whispered just for me.
"...Well, she trusts you lately, so this much is fine. ...Yeah. Problem is, there's a mountain of docs needing approval today."
"Tch."
Handle those, and my own work gets pushed.
Bad news.
"Then leave it for tomorrow..."
"No. Bring 'em. I'll look."
"You know that's a grave overstep?"
"Hmph. Didn't say I'd stamp them. Just sorting."
"......If that's all."
Silpia piled the docs in front of me.
Quite the stack.
"...Hm. Magic division requests high-grade spellbook recovery. Payment later... Ha. Not worth hearing."
I started sorting: fine, iffy, total bullshit.
"Sorting awful freely. Approvals aside, rejections are overreach themselves."
"If I don't buy it, Eve won't either."
"What?"
"Hmph. She's sharp."
"......True enough."
"Process like this, done."
I jotted reasons on memos atop each pile, sorted 'em all, and handed to Silpia.
"What's this?"
"Judge the bases yourself first. You're aiming for Eve's royal guard—gotta assist on this level."
"Does Nefti... do that?"
"Who knows."
No scenario where Nefti gets that job, and even if? Would she?
Anyway, Silpia seriously reviewed my sorts and nodded.
"Impressive."
"What?"
"Once, the lady aimed to rejoin you to the council by putting a leash on you. Know that?"
"...Yeah. I was there."
"Hm. We backed it thinking it'd ease monitoring your every move... but this sort? I'd vote yes regardless."
Dunno the details, but Silpia approved my work, gave props her way, and left.
Moments later.
"...Ughhh, hng."
The student council president coughed with a bizarre noise.
"Awake?"
"Wolfram...?"
"Yeah. Wolfram. Wolfram von Loengrin."
Eve stretched tall, rolling her shoulders. Loosening up?
"How long was I out?"
"Since I got here, so at least three hours."
"...You could've woken me. Work's piled up... Ha. Seriously. Know how busy I am? Can't you help? That's manners, right?"
"Quit nagging."
"Hmph."
"Ha."
I flipped her off, and Eve narrowed her bleary eyes before flipping back.
After a bit, she levitated the docs in front of me with mana, sliding them over.
"Silpia's leftovers... Huh? They're sorted? ...Wait. Wolfram. Who sorted these?"
"Dunno."
"Not Silpia's handwriting... Hold on..."
Eve squinted and glared at me.
"Wolfram."
"What?"
"You said you don't know who did this sorting?"
"Of course. Maybe a fairy tidied up while the room's owner slept."
"You know brownies aren't fairies—they're bureaucrats pulling all-nighters? ...Tch. No way. You'd really pull this obvious one-dimensional stunt now?"
"Hmph."
"I figured you wouldn't stoop to childish crap like that."
"No idea what you're on about."
Whatever.
I know it's an obvious lie.
She recognizes my handwriting—it's body memory. She knew the second she saw the memos.
Still hate admitting it? Tough.
Eve stared at the sorts and memos, thinking.
"No clue who, but... their style's obvious."
"Yeah. No clue who, though."
"Yup. Super strict sorting. Zero tolerance for overreach. Only a tyrant dead sure they're right would sort like this."
"Huh. Jefrin's got a shining star like that? Shocking."
"......Tch. Well, doesn't clash much with my style. We'll proceed as is."
Eve grumbled but stamped my sorts.
Just stamping? Five minutes tops.
"Hm... Docs done early. Slept well, nothing left..."
She stood gracefully, opened the cabinet, pulled a tea set, and brewed.
Two cups.
"......Gonna say it."
"What."
"Expensive tea. One's for me, cleaning up the ex-president's messes."
"Got it."
"The other's... for the loyal brownie who handled my work while I slept."
"Got it."
"But brownies are fairies who only show at night. Can't stay up, so this'll go cold."
"......"
Wasn't it bureaucrats earlier?
"Hate to waste it, though..."
"Hate to?"
"Handle it yourself."
She slid the cup my way.
Sunset in the student council room. Only quiet wind sounds.
The odd vibe played awkward peace, and the tea wasn't half bad.
Soon after.
"Right, why're you here? Not just to visit?"
"Hm. Thinking imperial private forest for next expedition, but risk of damage. Okay? Got my forbidden zone pass, so minor stuff's fine."
Eve grinned and flipped me off.
"Go die."
No.
I helped with work—what gives?
Not I—whatever!