Senior vs Junior (5)
Emotions like joy or excitement when facing a positive situation vary depending on one's expectations. If expectations are sky-high, even an objectively excellent outcome can lead to disappointment. Conversely, if expectations are rock-bottom, even minor events can feel deeply moving. In that sense, the freshmen held very low expectations for Chrome.
"Three stars means he's ranked near the bottom among targets. He probably doesn't have any remarkable abilities."
"We got the potions, so he won't attack right away, but I wonder if there's any point in keeping him around."
"Well, if anything seems suspicious, we can just eliminate him on the spot."
Because those expectations were so low, Chrome's subsequent displays of skill left them genuinely impressed.
"Ah, please wait a moment. The position feels off somehow."
"What is it?"
"I have a feeling there's some kind of trap ahead."
Chrome suddenly stopped and spoke nonsense, then picked up a suitably sized piece of wood and casually tossed it forward. The freshmen stared in confusion, wondering what he was doing, until the wood hit the ground and was immediately snatched up by some kind of snare. They gasped in shock.
"It must be Chase's work. At least he didn't use crossbow traps since this is a mock battle. I suppose I worried for nothing. Let's keep moving."
Chrome spoke as if he'd unnecessarily butted in, sounding slightly embarrassed, but the freshmen could only feel chills down their spines. If they had kept walking without noticing the trap, they would have ended up dangling in the air just like that piece of wood. Even if it wouldn't have counted as an immediate elimination, being suspended like that would have left them completely defenseless against any follow-up attack.
Chrome's contributions didn't stop there.
Swish! Slash!
"Guh!"
"Hah! Found some decent prey. How about we have a match—huh?"
The dual-wielding swordsman who had instantly taken down two students in a surprise attack froze the moment he saw Chrome.
"Damn it, you were walking so casually in the same direction that I assumed you weren't fighting. I didn't realize this was mid-battle."
"I'm currently in a temporary alliance with these juniors, so what you did doesn't violate the rules. No need to worry."
"What? What the hell are you talking about—"
Crow Vein tried to protest in disbelief, but that single moment of distraction was a fatal opening in combat.
"Now's our chance, get him!"
"Surround him!"
The students, having lost two allies in an instant, attacked Crow in fury. Crow, who had briefly slipped back into a casual demeanor, instantly shifted into a battle-ready stance brimming with fighting spirit. His skill was terrifying, as expected from someone who constantly clashed with Ligret. Despite facing eight opponents, he pushed them back rather than being overwhelmed.
"Huh? Hey, that's not—Ligret! What are you trying to do?!"
"What?"
At Chrome's urgent voice, Crow's gaze naturally followed his. Normally he wouldn't have taken his eyes off the fight, but if that scheming merchant was reacting with such alarm, then whatever Ligret was about to do had to be more dangerous than the battle itself.
However, the freshmen who didn't yet understand how dangerous the name Ligret was didn't fall for the trick.
Thud! Slash! Wham!
"Kek!"
Crow collapsed with a short cry, shooting Chrome a resentful look. Chrome merely scratched his head and muttered,
"Whew, thank goodness. I must've seen wrong."
A swarm of black butterflies appeared from somewhere and wrapped around Crow's body, carrying him away. His face flushed red—not from his injuries.
Target Crow Vein has been eliminated. The subjugators are the 'Freshman' Mickey Slow Team. The Mickey Team's star points have reached 9. Current surviving freshmen: 103. Current remaining targets: 15.
Chrome waved briefly at the departing Crow before turning to the stunned freshmen.
"Oh dear, your injuries look quite serious. Let's treat them quickly."
"……."
Various words rose to the freshmen’s throats, but none made it past their lips. If he had interfered during the fight, that would be one thing, but he had actually helped them instead. How could they complain? Moreover, the potions he handed out were of remarkably high quality—enough to revive even those who had been on the verge of being unable to fight.
"Alright, I still have potions left! Anyone need one? Ah, you folks behind the tree over there too! Feel free to take some if you need them!"
"What exactly is this party…?"
"It's the Alphons Betuart Hunting Party! Join now and receive a fatigue recovery potion as a bonus!"
The bizarre adventure of Chrome and the naive simpletons continued after that. The biggest change was that their numbers, once around a dozen, had nearly doubled. This wasn't particularly strange. While Alphons Betuart's name carried considerable weight, this wasn't a faction war—it was a subjugation battle. No matter how strong the opponent, he was still just one person. Fighting as a group gave them a solid chance of victory, and eliminating targets was one of the main objectives of the class to begin with.
Even without Chrome's conditions, they would have to defeat him anyway. By cooperating, they received potion support and strategies for dealing with second-years. There was nothing to lose by helping, and everything to lose by refusing. At this point, not cooperating would be the foolish choice.
The condition of "We'll only tolerate you until we take down Alphons" had subtly shifted to "We'll support you if you cooperate in taking down Alphons," though no one noticed the difference.
"As for Rabaul, his strength is monstrous. The moment he grabs you, it's basically over. He swings people around by the legs like a club, and once you're caught, there's no way to escape—you just become a human bludgeon."
"Is there no way to counter him?"
"The best method is to avoid being grabbed in the first place. Beyond that, it depends on your attire. He's a bit of a blockhead, so he tends to hesitate against female opponents. Especially anyone wearing a skirt can basically consider themselves immune to his grabs—he's crazy, but not that crazy. On the other hand, armored male students are his top priority targets. They don't break easily even when swung around, and there's less risk of him getting criticized for it visually. Everyone else falls somewhere in between."
At Chrome's explanation, the female knight-type students wearing skirts looked slightly relieved, while the heavily armored male students wore sour expressions.
Iris Otreang, one of the new party members, watched Chrome conversing with the freshmen with a peculiar gaze. When she had first joined, he had been treated more like a prisoner, but now he looked every bit the advisor—or rather, some kind of local tour guide. There were no proper restraints on him, no one was actively watching him with suspicion, and instead, people kept glancing his way for help whenever something happened. At this rate, someone might mistake him for the actual leader.
He was supposed to be a target too—could this really be allowed? Yet instead of causing harm, he only offered help, making it difficult to stay on guard.
In truth, even Iris herself wouldn't have paid him this much attention if not for what Frelia had told her beforehand.
—Ah, and… be careful around anyone from the Midas family. Though being careful probably won't change anything.
It was rare for Frelia, who usually enjoyed speaking in riddles, to give such a direct yet ambiguous warning. What did it mean that being careful wouldn't make a difference?
'He does seem reasonably skilled, at least…'
Even from Iris's perspective, who ranked fairly high among the freshmen, Chrome appeared to be at her level or perhaps slightly below. It felt awkward to say it out loud, but that level of ability was still considerable. However, that was all. She couldn't imagine him being someone who would make the terrifying Frelia so anxious that she'd personally inquire about his well-being.
Perhaps it was due to his connection with the princess? Just as she was lost in thought, a commotion nearby snapped her back to reality.
"What the hell are you doing?! Why are you traveling with a target?!"
"It's a temporary alliance! Mind your own business and keep moving!"
"Huh? An alliance with a target? Forget it—if you're not going to capture him, hand him over! We'll turn him in for points!"
"Listen here, who exactly do you think you're treating like a pushover? If anyone's getting points, it'll be us, not you!"
"Now, now, everyone, let's not fight…"
"Chrome, please step back! This is a matter of our pride!"
"Are you saying you're going to betray us and side with the second-years?!"
"Betrayal?! Don't make me laugh! When were we ever on the same team?!"
Thanks to Chrome's assistance, the freshmen who had been defeating second-years left and right were now brimming with confidence. They had gathered enough people, and they had a collaborator who provided strategies. Unlike before, when they had to embrace other competitors just to survive, they now had plenty of leeway.
Before anyone realized it, the freshmen gathered around Chrome had begun confronting another freshman team, and the standoff quickly escalated into combat. Iris sensed that something was going wrong, but when an opponent suddenly swung a sword at her, she had no choice but to draw her own blade.
Chrome, who had initially seemed to be trying to stop the fight, had at some point moved to the rear and begun supporting his allies. Something—something was happening.