The Common Point is Yohan (1)
The wilderness training exercise.
And the ranking evaluation match.
These two events were held simultaneously, forming the largest occasion of the first semester for first-year students at Sigmund Academy.
It was a long-standing tradition dating back to the academy’s founding.
Therefore, even though a major incident like Yohan’s death had occurred, everyone had been looking forward to the wilderness training…
As the students made their way to Karlandel, their conversations carried the fresh energy of youth and clear anticipation.
That was only natural.
How many times in a lifetime would anyone get the chance to set foot in Karlandel, a place normally closed to all except the imperial family and their relatives?
Moreover, the wilderness training offered a chance to apply what they had learned in the short time since enrollment and potentially overturn the A-to-F ranks assigned during the entrance exam in one stroke.
And that was not all.
At Sigmund, classes were conducted in the style of general education lectures at an ordinary university on Earth for a while after admission.
But once enough time had passed, students were grouped into fixed classes.
Those who met here and successfully completed the training together would, according to the professors’ policy, be placed in the same class afterward.
While assignments were usually based on region of origin, the compatibility shown during the wilderness training was one of the key factors in the decision.
If they made a good impression here, they could spend the rest of their time at Sigmund with like-minded peers.
Thus, no one prepared for it half-heartedly.
In the wide clearing at the center of Karlandel where the podium stood.
Originally, it was the platform where the emperor’s throne would be placed during imperial visits, but now Professor Sayer, in charge of the event, stood beneath it addressing the students with the necessary announcements.
All the students stood in orderly formation, listening attentively to his voice.
[“Now, I’ll give you twenty minutes. I know you’re excited, but with so many people here, please be mindful of safety while forming your teams.”]
It was an instruction to form teams.
Most students already had people they were close to and had largely decided in advance, but not everyone had close friends.
Some students might also be looking for teammates on the spot for other reasons.
This moment was arranged with those students in mind.
[“As you all know, the rules are simple. Teams are limited to a maximum of four members, but only one A-rank or B-rank per team. Please follow this rule, students.”]
The rules were straightforward.
There were two restrictions.
The first, as Sayer had stated, was that only one A-rank or B-rank was allowed per team.
This clause was meant to prevent overly powerful individuals from easily clearing the professors’ assignments and evaluations.
Even B-ranks were formidable existences capable of dominating battlefields with ease.
A-ranks—Karalin, Gremory, Yohan, and others—were on an entirely different level from ordinary cadets…
It was a rule designed so that no one would feel disadvantaged.
In addition.
There was also the maximum team size limit.
It was the professors’ policy, chosen because they did not want students swarming around in large groups.
But since almost no one had trouble gathering four members, there was no need to worry about those who might fail to form a team.
Even students whom others avoided would eventually band together with similar outcasts and form a team somehow.
“…I’ll have to do it alone.”
However.
The young lady was different.
Karalin still had no one to team up with.
By now, more people pitied her and wanted to help than those who found her unpleasant.
But because of her unique aura, hardly anyone approached her at this point.
That had been evident even during the journey here.
Even so, though Karalin was lonely and forlorn…
She intended to endure this event on her own somehow.
She had only seen it herself.
But surely, that was what Yohan in the letter would have wanted.
She had a “duty” as the hope of the North.
Karalin muttered softly, savoring the solitude.
Thinking of the one precious person she had left.
“I’ll do my best, Yohan…”
So wherever you are.
Will you watch over me?
As if it were Yohan himself, she clutched the last letter he had left her tightly to her chest.
Amid the crowd of countless students, her figure seemed like a wildflower trampled underfoot by stones and boots.
But.
Though the Yohan in heaven had wanted his precious young lady to endure, he would never have wished for her to remain so pitifully alone.
“Oh…”
Suddenly, she sensed someone approaching beside her.
“Good morning, Grand Duchess?”
When she turned, she found Cryan standing there—the same person she had seen just yesterday.
Without a trace of a smile to ease the tension, he spoke in his characteristically dry tone.
“Have you not formed a team yet?”
“Cryan! Why are you…”
Even as she said that.
Karalin was not so oblivious that she could not read the meaning behind his visit.
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Don’t tell me you want to be on the same team as me?”
“That is correct.”
However, Karalin cut off his sharp, immediate reply with an even sharper conviction.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Approaching someone like me will only bring you misfortune. You’re a good person—walk your own path. I…”
Cryan sighed at the words that could only come from profound self-loathing, yet he brushed them off as if he had already known.
He had his own counterargument, after all.
“I’m sorry, but my lady, I also have no one to team up with.”
Appealing to shared circumstances.
It was not even a lie.
If he tried to team up with Gremory and the rest of the mage tower group—the only ones he was close to—he would immediately hit the rank limit.
They were all monsters, after all.
So it made sense to look elsewhere for teammates.
Cryan had no close friends.
“…Oh, so you were in the same situation.”
“Yes. People like me, who seem gloomy, are usually dismissed as pathetic and left out while everyone else plays among themselves.”
This was what people meant by shared suffering.
The sight of him revealing his own flaws in such a timid voice was enough to make Karalin imagine how pitiful she herself must appear.
A mirror image.
“But only Yohan ever spoke to me. If he were still alive, I would have asked him to be on the same team.”
With that, Cryan showed a slightly downcast expression.
Who could possibly suspect any hidden motive in those words?
“Well, from what I’ve heard, you must have spent time with him too.”
“So, if you’re all right with it, my lady, I’d like to join the North. Would you please accept me?”
“……Oh, um.”
Though she said that, her hesitation did not last long.
“If you put it that way, there’s no reason to refuse.”
“You were A-rank, correct? There aren’t many A-ranks even at Sigmund, so I know the details. Since I’m B-rank, there shouldn’t be any problem with the rules either.”
Karalin did not seem displeased.
It was exactly the same reaction she had shown when Eclipse approached her in the past.
Of course, she did not smile this time.
Even so, Cryan was not someone completely unrelated to her…
They were connected through Yohan, the most important person to her.
So she felt no aversion toward him.
But.
Unexpected events always happen when least anticipated.
Just as the two were about to form a team, an uninvited guest intruded.
“Karalin, have you formed a team yet?”
Golden curly hair.
Deep green eyes.
A flashy outfit that drew the eye.
And a confident demeanor that seemed to declare, “I am the emperor.”
The crown prince had come to attach himself to her by any means necessary in preparation for the upcoming event.
But that confident attitude froze in an instant, becoming almost unbelievable.
“…?”
Though the expression did not last long.
It was as if he had seen something utterly unacceptable.
His gaze locked onto Cryan.
“Huh. What are you doing here?”
“Y-Your Highness……”
No further words were needed.
After all, words did not need to be spoken aloud to take form.
Meaning could be conveyed through a single glance.
You little bastard.
Did you forget the favor I asked, telling you to get lost?
You know full well what I’m capable of.
—When such a loaded gaze was directed at him, how could Cryan not tremble in fear?
‘Damn it… I knew this would happen!’
Even though Cryan had been warned in advance that his brother would approach Karalin.
This was unavoidable.
He remembered that night.
The bloody purge that had unfolded in the cruel palace.
That face had been there.
The terrifying man who had killed his mother and ruined his uncle now stood before him.
When that green glare from his brother poured down on him, Cryan’s breath quickened reflexively, and he felt as though he might wet himself.
Even though Cryan had grown stronger mentally after passing through the Bruised City, the mental shackles etched into his body and mind were stronger than he had thought.
Indeed, some things could only be known through experience.
He had to keep the oath he made with Yohan.
That was why he had come in the first place.
But if something went wrong…
Could he guarantee the safety of the orphanage children?
Could he really be all right?
For now, only such doubts consumed his mind.
‘…Shut up.’
But thinking like this made him third-rate.
To steady his weakening resolve, he unconsciously touched the conch shell—the symbol of the oath he had made with Yohan.
The promise Cryan had once spoken of.
The vow to bury the monster before him in the ground.
His desire to keep that promise was immense.
How could he simply accept the man’s goodwill and then tuck his tail between his legs out of weakness?
As a man, to act so cowardly.
‘I won’t become that kind of person…! I am Mow’s son and Nonedon’s nephew… I must become someone worthy of pride!’
So he clenched his teeth and steadied his mind.
As if looking into his own reflection, he met the green eyes of Banquite with his own irises.
In the past, he would have lowered his gaze, but this time he managed it.
“…You.”
That look was enough to momentarily stop Banquite’s words.
He could not understand why this pathetic younger brother was suddenly acting this way.
Whether it was Yuhan or whatever else.
He felt the urge to kill.
He had only spared him because of the promise his mother, Mow, had begged for with all her might…
Now that he had already dealt with Mow through Nonedon’s hands, there was no one left to complain if he killed him, was there?
But at that moment.
“You two.”
“…Hmm? Sorry, Karalin. This is just for a moment…”
“No. What exactly are you doing right in front of me that’s so unpleasant to watch?”
The Grand Duchess of Vitagarte unleashed a deadly pressure.
Her words carried heavy weight.
No matter if he was the crown prince.
How dare you put on such a farce before me?
That was what she meant.
Well, even if she had to show proper respect to Banquite now that her territory had been incorporated into the empire.
Vitagarte had always acted without such affiliations, claiming to be a king in its own right.
Frankly, there was no need or reason for her to watch her words.
Banquite.
What would happen if she showed him disrespect?
Would it bring any disadvantage to her or her territory?
The North had never received any support from the empire anyway.
That was why she had to fight alongside Yohan through life-and-death battles.
Even now, her territory was probably burning.
If none of this had happened, she would not even be here.
Yohan might not have died.
So from the start, she had disliked this man.
Regardless of what was going on between the two of them, the fact that he was trying to slight Cryan—who had come to deliver Yohan’s memories to her—was enough to make her want to kill him.
“…Ka-Karalin?”
“I’ve told you twice already not to call me by name so casually, Your Highness.”
There was none of the girlish demeanor she had shown in front of Yohan.
But that was not surprising.
This was the true appearance of the Grand Duchess she had always possessed.
Karalin—the storm forged by the cold winds and cruel environment of the North.
“……I see. Understood.”
Banquite opened and closed his mouth before speaking.
“But—”