Chapter 98
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 98
“Ugh… I’m so dizzy.”
Yulina groaned, rubbing the back of her neck, which had gone stiff from excessive mana consumption.
Thanks to Yulina acting as a human ice machine, the Alchemy Club’s icebox was now packed to the brim. Trish bowed deeply to the groaning Yulina, her face full of gratitude.
“Thank you so much, Chief Administrator Yulina! You’ve been a massive help!”
“Ah… right. Just make sure you put the ice to good use. And please, don’t call me for something like this ever again.”
“Oh? But I heard you were joining our club?”
“…”
Yulina shot me a sharp glare before turning back to Trish.
“I’m not joining.”
“What? But if you join, you get to tour the Deiarron Magic Tower. Are you sure?”
“A-a Magic Tower tour?”
Yulina’s eyes widened in shock. I spoke up calmly, as if I’d simply forgotten a minor detail.
“I suppose I forgot to mention it. The Alchemy Club has enough tour passes for five members. If you were to join, I could make a special exception and include you.”
“…I-if you had something like that, you should have told me sooner!”
A tour of a Magic Tower was a dream for every student of the magical arts. Even if Yulina planned to support Beatrice as an administrator rather than becoming a Great Mage, it was an opportunity she couldn't pass up. If nothing else, having it on her portfolio was worth its weight in gold.
“In any case, take your time thinking about it. The offer stands.”
I handed a mana replenishment stone to Yulina, who was still complaining of vertigo.
“Hold this and crush it.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Crack.
With a crisp snap, a blue haze shimmered around her. As her mana restored, Yulina straightened her posture, the dizziness finally fading.
“Let’s move.”
I led the way, and we began walking again.
“…Where are we going this time?”
“The Journalism Club. It’s just a bit further ahead.”
I pointed toward the far side of the bustling street. Past the activity booths and the food stalls where the Alchemy Club was stationed lay the academic club section. Since it was still early in the semester, few academic clubs had enough research to show off, so participation was sparse. However, a few had set up shop for the festival.
The Journalism Club, which had seen a recent surge in circulation, was one of them.
“O-oh! Welcome!”
When we arrived, Chloe—who had been staring blankly at the sky—shot to her feet, her eyes sparkling.
“So, how are the new issues selling?”
I looked down at the display stand. The Journalism Club was selling magazines categorized by topic. There were features on popular upperclassmen like Leonhardt, Gawain, and Agnes, as well as profiles on the student council presidents of the Four Great Academies. In one corner, they were even selling a compilation of Chloe’s articles on local mysteries.
“They’re doing well! But more importantly, about the share I got from the dungeon subjugation… was that really—”
Chloe, about to mention the gold ingots she’d received, suddenly flinched as she spotted Yulina approaching from behind me.
“!”
Her face went pale. Like a mouse cornered by a cat, she looked around desperately for a place to hide. But before she could bolt, Yulina locked eyes with her.
“Oh, look who it is. So you were here.”
“Y-yes.”
Chloe avoided her gaze, nervously scratching the back of her head. Yulina still held a grudge over an article Chloe had written during the practical exam incident and had bombarded her with letters of protest. I’d stepped in to stop the "complaint offensive," but it seemed Chloe was still traumatized.
I decided to take this chance to play mediator.
“Good timing. It’s all in the past now, so why don’t you two make up?”
“I’ll consider making up once I receive a proper apology for writing an article about me without my permission,” Yulina said, crossing her arms and glaring.
Chloe squeaked out a timid response. “Well… the press is supposed to guarantee the public’s right to know…”
“I acknowledge the role of the press. But that means you must also be prepared to face the rightful anger of the person involved, doesn't it? Since you are a ‘journalist,’ a guardian of the truth.”
“Th-that’s…”
After a moment of hesitation, Chloe bowed a full ninety degrees.
“I’m sorry, Miss Yulina! I caused you so much trouble!”
Thud.
Chloe’s head hit the display stand with a dull thunk as she apologized.
“…”
Yulina stared at the top of Chloe’s head for a moment, then sighed and nodded.
“Fine, as long as you understand. But from now on, get my permission before you write anything. I’ll also apologize for the threatening letters.”
“Thank youuuu.”
Chloe’s voice was tearful as she looked up. Then, she leaned in and whispered to Yulina.
“By the way, did you know? Roen was the one who told me to write that article.”
“…Is that true?”
“Yes! He said he was certain he’d saved you, and that if I had any doubts, I should just ask you directly. I believed him and wrote it!”
“…”
Yulina whipped her head around, her eyes sharp as daggers. I deliberately looked away and shrugged.
“First I’m hearing of it.”
*
After reconciling the two, I finished my tour of the festival booths.
There were no major issues, and the food sanitation seemed acceptable. I thought I spotted some rather subversive literature among the magazines at Garfield’s manga club, but I pretended not to see it. I’m not a total monster, after all.
Having finished the inspection, I returned to the main athletic field. Inside the stadium, a ‘Super Bowl’ match between Ishtal and Seintea was in full swing.
Super Bowl was a sport that blended American football and soccer; players used both hands and feet to get a magically enchanted ball into the opposing team’s zone by any means necessary. It was incredibly popular in the Cassandra Empire, with citizens going wild for matches between famous knight orders. It had even been a minigame in Myrillin Saga, and it was surprisingly fun to build a team and play.
Even now, tens of thousands of spectators were roaring as they watched the tournament.
Of course, I wasn't here for the game. I was here for the sandwich-eating contest being held near the stadium. I was feeling a bit peckish, and I knew a few of the contestants.
As I approached, the commentary boomed through a megaphone.
“Ah, contestant Garfield! He’s taking the lead with seven sandwiches!”
“But contestant Bell is right on his heels! She downs a cup of milk and clears her sixth! She’s already reaching for the next one!”
“Starting with the eighth sandwich, the menu changes! This round includes pickled herring, notorious for being difficult to eat quickly! Will they survive? Let’s find out!”
Garfield, who had been on a strict diet, was using this contest as his ultimate cheat day. Bell, a natural-born glutton, was aiming for the 100 meal tickets offered as a prize.
I walked up to the organizers and gestured toward the sandwiches prepared for the audience.
“Can I have one?”
“O-of course, sir.”
For a second, I felt a bit awkward, but hunger won out. I took the sandwich.
“You’re not eating?” I asked Yulina.
“I’ll finish this first,” she said, taking a loud, crunchy bite out of a candy apple.
I watched the competition while munching on my ham and egg sandwich.
Munch, munch.
Chomp, chomp.
Garfield and Bell were practically inhaling the food. The other contestants were well-built, but they were no match for those two. The showdown was spectacular. Garfield was stacking multiple sandwiches and stuffing them into his mouth at once, while Bell’s jaw moved at high speed, grinding through the bread like a rabbit gnawing on a carrot.
I knew they could eat, but seeing it in person was something else.
“…They’re eating so much. Won’t they get sick?” Yulina asked, looking worried.
“Don’t worry. Bell is aiming for second place anyway. Right now, she’s just eating because it tastes good. She’ll stop once she’s full.”
“I see.”
As time passed, contestants dropped out one by one. As soon as the third-place finisher gave up, Bell immediately rang her bell, securing second place.
The moment Bell stopped, Garfield was declared the winner.
“Yes! The winner of the sandwich-eating contest is… Garfield Morty! Congratulations!”
As the announcer shouted, Garfield leaped from his seat and let out a roar of triumph.
“Uoooooh!”
“For clearing a total of seventeen sandwiches, contestant Garfield Morty will receive a priority reservation voucher for a Union-selected three-star restaurant! Congratulations!”
For a wealthy gourmet like Garfield, it was the perfect prize. For Bell, who couldn't afford high-end dining anyway, it was useless—which was exactly why she had aimed for second place.
Clap, clap, clap.
Amidst the applause, Garfield spotted me and gave me a thumbs-up. It wasn't a grand tournament, but for Garfield, it was a moment of glory. I gave him a sincere round of applause.
Just then, Bell spoke up.
“Excuse me, is it okay if I pack up the leftovers?”
The announcer looked troubled. “Ah, I believe that’s against the rules.”
“O-oh, is that so? I understand.”
Since she couldn't take them to go, Bell sat back down and began stuffing the remaining sandwiches into her mouth. As if she still had a void for a stomach, her pace didn't slow down at all.
‘Does she have a blast furnace in there?’
“…”
Garfield watched Bell for a moment. Then, as if his pride wouldn't let him lose even after winning, he sat back down and picked up another sandwich.
The announcer hesitated as the two started an unofficial second round.
“Uh, contestants? The match is already over…”
No. The contest might have ended, but for these two, the battle was far from over.
*
Eredor Providence Hall.
The top floor of the female dormitory—Beatrice’s room.
While Union was buzzing with the festival, Beatrice had finished her opening speech and returned to her room, citing poor health. It wasn't entirely a lie. Ever since her mana seizure, she hadn't felt right. Her entire body ached as if she were fighting a severe cold, and a heavy fatigue weighed on her.
“Hoo.”
Beatrice shed her restrictive uniform. She wanted to collapse onto the bed, but her meticulous nature wouldn't allow it. Only after washing up and changing into her sleepwear did she allow herself to sit on the soft mattress.
Instead of resting, she picked up the report sent by Wayne. It was the investigation into the recent practical exam incident.
Flip.
She scanned the pages carefully. As requested, the report listed every student who had repaired or purchased a new uniform in the days following the exam. It also included the roster for Group C and the location data for the automated golems that had been patrolling the site.
“…”
Beatrice cross-referenced the three sets of data. However, no single name appeared on all three lists. She decided to eliminate one variable.
‘…Most students keep spare uniforms.’
It was rare for a Union student to own only one set. Most had at least two, and some had enough to change daily. She disregarded the uniform data and focused on the golems’ signal loss records compared to the movements of Group C.
If there had been an attack as she suspected, the golems would have been an obstacle.
Beatrice traced the routes, murmuring names as she found overlaps.
‘Freya, Yulina, and… Roen.’
The students whose paths crossed with the disabled golems were Yulina, Roen, and Freya—who had been on the mission Beatrice herself had assigned. Furthermore, according to a student named Karon, Freya had destroyed a golem, and their campsite was near where the fragment of Assistant Professor Demer’s uniform was found.
The academy had officially closed the case, but the deeper she dug, the more suspicious it became.
‘After that incident, Freya was hospitalized for days.’
Beatrice narrowed her eyes. Elena had concluded the incident was caused by mana amplification from a ley line anomaly. But if it was powerful enough to incapacitate a high-tier knight like Freya, the other students should have been in mortal danger. There were too many holes for it to be a simple natural phenomenon.
‘The Twelve Honored Ones.’
Beatrice wrote the name on the document, then quickly crossed it out. She was considering the possibility that the barrier wasn't a ley line anomaly, but the work of Gilean, a member of the Twelve Honored Ones. Perhaps Demer’s disappearance and this phenomenon were linked.
‘If their activity is confirmed, Union itself is likely their target.’
To dominate the continent, the most logical step was to destroy its future—its talent and education. In this situation, a leader had to prepare for the worst.
‘I should expand the security detail.’
Unable to reach a definitive conclusion, she focused on what she could control. They had already increased the security budget, but it wasn't enough. She needed to ensure student safety, even if it required a supplementary budget.
Currently, Union’s security was handled by a rotation of seven knight orders, seven infantry brigades from various nations, and combat mages from seven Magic Towers. Simply adding numbers was useless; she needed to request more high-ranking knights and mages.
Just as Beatrice closed the report, something caught her eye.
Flutter.
“…”
Something moved past the window in the darkness. It looked like a bird—or perhaps a bat. Beatrice stared at the window for a moment, then sighed and shook her head.
“It must be… my imagination.”
There was no reason for bats to be in Eredor, though it might be a different story in Voltimir.
Swish.
Beatrice watched the fireworks painting the night sky for a moment before drawing the curtains shut.