Chapter 112
Chapter 112
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: The Mastermind Behind Creating the Special Class
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“I-if you don’t like it, just say so!”
After the fuming Torajin Astria stormed off.
Krash set aside lunch for the time being.
He’d already told Aslan he had some business to attend to, so he set off right away.
The place Krash visited during lunchtime was none other than the Special Studies Hall.
As he stepped into the glass-domed building, he saw re-enrolled students bustling about everywhere.
They didn’t even spare him a glance.
True to its name, the Special Studies Hall offered classes of every miscellaneous kind imaginable.
That made it a department where students were exceptionally dedicated to their research compared to others.
Which also meant they had little interest in anyone else.
Krash navigated the familiar halls and arrived at a classroom labeled “Alchemy Lab.”
He casually swung the door open, and the distinctive smell of alchemical reagents wafted out.
The three-story classroom was filled with Special Studies and alchemy students engrossed in their personal experiments at their stations.
Krash strolled past them and reached a spot piled high with vials.
[Avoiding women, yet here you are to meet one?]
Krash ignored Crimson Garden’s quip and peered inside.
There sat a figure carefully pipetting something into a vial.
Blonde hair, and bizarrely wearing both uniform pants and a skirt over them.
The woman hailed as the future lord of the Alchemy Castle.
“Darling Danphelion.”
Krash called out to the woman with the oddly distinctive name.
“Huh?”
She turned around belatedly.
Her striking eyes widened at the sight of him, and she tilted her head.
“It’s my boyfriend. What’re you doing here?”
“Don’t say stuff that’ll cause misunderstandings. There are already enough headaches around me.”
“Ahaha, who’d you charm while I was away? Your cute fiancée might get jealous.”
It had been a year since he’d last seen her, and she was giggling up a storm.
Only then did she check the date.
“Entrance ceremony already? Sorry, didn’t realize. My sense of time’s been shot lately!”
“Not exactly something to brag about.”
“It’s par for the course as an alchemist.”
Alchemists apparently weren’t cut out for a normal life.
“More importantly, Krash, I think you got my name wrong earlier.”
“What?”
“Add ‘senpai.’ I’m first-gen, you know.”
Krash ignored Darling’s remark.
Instead, he dragged over a nearby chair and sat down.
“Anyway, I need a favor. Mind whipping up a certain potion for me?”
This was the reason Krash had skipped lunch to come find her.
Darling gave a meaningful smile at the request and picked up a vial.
“TS No. 2?”
The moment Krash raised his fist, she yanked it away.
“Kidding. So, what potion? The instant-love one’s still in development.”
“If you try slipping sis anything weird, you’re dead.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll drink it myself.”
“Don’t drink it yourself either.”
Krash let out a sigh. Talking to Darling always frayed his nerves.
Then he explained the potion he needed.
Once she’d heard him out, Darling tilted her head.
“Hmm. Someone sneaking in or something?”
“Something like that.”
Seeing Krash’s cryptic smile, Darling nodded.
“Alright. Might take a bit, but I’ll make it.”
“Good. Then let’s grab lunch.”
Krash set a sandwich he’d bought from the cafeteria in front of her.
Darling lit up with delight.
“As expected of my boyfriend! Marry me!”
“No.”
And so their lunchtime began—and ended—with Krash’s curt rejection.
＊ ＊ ＊
After finishing lunch with Darling, Krash headed for the Martial Studies Hall.
Maybe it was all the headaches piling up since the entrance ceremony.
But catching his breath with a familiar face had lightened his mood.
‘Bianca’s probably eaten by now.’
She was diligent about meals.
No need to worry.
[Tsk tsk. Keep attracting them like this, and you’ll end up worse than Poseidon King.]
“Don’t paint me as a womanizer.”
[Am I wrong? How many women have tangled with you today alone?]
Krash made a troubled face.
[I warned you. Women will keep flocking to your path. Cut them off quick.]
“Don’t go chopping off other people’s stuff.”
[Hmph. The guy who lopped off and reattached an arm—what can’t he chop?]
Was she still sore about him removing the Sword Ghost’s arm?
Krash felt a mix of exasperation.
As he bantered lightly with Crimson Garden, he entered the Martial Studies Hall.
He threw open the door to the classroom assigned to the second-gen Martial Studies students.
The noisy chatter died instantly as eyes turned his way.
The moment they recognized him, silence fell.
At this point, he half-wondered if he was the professor.
Maybe he should hop up on the podium and give a lecture.
One kid waved enthusiastically.
“Krash, over here!”
It was none other than Balak Hogma.
The guy was nothing if not consistent.
Krash approached with a sense of ease and took the seat beside him.
Balak chattered away beside him.
Thanks to that, the class atmosphere quickly returned to normal.
This was the time to bond with fellow second-years.
With nearly a hundred in second-gen Martial Studies.
Most nobles, all busy building connections.
Krash quietly observed them.
His main reason for coming to Raheln Academy was to steal skills.
Unfortunately, first-gen had more talent overall.
The top flyers had mostly enrolled in the first wave.
‘The issue is the complete unknowns in second-gen.’
His eyes landed on a tall, blonde male student.
The kind who could easily be mistaken for a woman at a glance.
He sat quietly, reading a book.
The fake Arthur.
No plans to approach yet.
Fake Arthur was a trap for Arthur.
Designed to detect if there were other regressors besides himself.
No reason to rush in.
“Oh, and Anix said to pass along that he wants to see your face soon!”
“Ah, got it.”
Anix Graiza, the bowmaster.
Krash hadn’t paid him much mind since their clash at the Star Sanctuary.
He’d been too busy, and figured the guy would end up at the academy anyway.
So he didn’t know what current Anix was like.
‘Honestly, I’d prefer if he were the same as before.’
He’d find out when they met.
“Ah, Krash-nim! You said we’d eat lunch together, but where’d you disappear to?”
Suddenly, Carandis had appeared beside him before he knew it.
She was a woman who didn’t know the meaning of giving up.
A glance around showed Mary had also settled nearby.
Creak—
Then the front door swung open, and a man strode in with steady steps.
Plain-looking, he carried a white cat with a ribbon around its neck tucked in his arms.
He placed the cat atop the podium.
As he stepped back, the white cat stretched languidly, sat on its haunches.
And amid the focused stares, the cat spoke.
“I am Ganon Sarsha, professor in charge of this year’s Martial Studies second-gen class.”
The students’ faces filled with bewilderment at the cat’s voice.
No one could’ve predicted a cat showing up as their professor.
Only Krash knew the truth.
And who this Ganon Sarsha really was.
“Due to personal circumstances, I’m meeting you in this form, but it hardly matters.”
Ganon licked his paw, grooming himself.
“Most of you will never see my true form anyway.”
That much was true.
Ganon wandered the world daily, solely to eradicate World Erosion.
A man whose knowledge of World Erosion rivaled Sephira.
That was Ganon Sarsha.
“Raheln Academy is currently divided into squads, based on twelve student leaders.”
It was akin to knight orders.
Students could voluntarily elect representatives and form their own squads.
Grades varied wildly based on each squad’s achievements.
Fail to meet baseline scores, and after three warnings, the squad disbanded.
Disbanded leaders couldn’t take command again.
Academy support also scaled with performance.
Thus, squads competed fiercely.
“You’ll undergo six months of training, then join a squad or form one. That’s when it really begins.”
Once assigned, students dove into genuine World Erosion fieldwork.
“The first-gen students are already in the field. Six months from now, you’ll compete with them. However...”
Ganon paused and glanced at the assistant professor.
The assistant approached and handed him a list.
“The students I’ll call now will skip the six-month training. As you heard during entrance exams, it’s the Special Class.”
The students’ expressions shifted in an instant.
No results had been announced at the exam venue.
This was their first hearing.
“Special Class will operate alongside first-gen. You’re second-gen in name only—full combat deployment.”
Even Krash looked surprised.
No such thing existed before his regression.
‘No idea who proposed it, but it’s a solid idea.’
Some learned more from one real fight than endless training.
“I’ll call names now.”
He placed a paw on the list.
“Krash Valheim.”
Not first, but predictably, Krash.
“As expected of Krash-nim!”
Carandis gazed at him with sparkling eyes.
Everyone had seen this coming.
If Krash didn’t make it, no one would.
Amid the predictable reactions, Krash swallowed a hollow laugh.
None of them knew what he’d done to earn this spot.
“Mary Diana.”
Mary, as expected.
“Balak Hogma.”
“Hehe, I made it too.”
One of Staron’s so-called three heroes.
“Glenn Diana.”
A man at the back was called next.
His face was etched with constant dissatisfaction.
Glenn Diana, collateral kin to Mary’s Diana family.
His eyes fixed on Mary with raw irritation.
Nothing like the pre-regression devotee who’d worshipped her like a goddess.
“Carandis Poseidon.”
The next name drew a surprised look even from Krash.
He turned, and Carandis stood tall, chest puffed with pride.
When Carandis set a goal—especially one like securing a husband—she gave more than 100%.
The moment she’d witnessed Krash’s prowess at the entrance ceremony, she’d decided he was the one.
Thus, she’d gritted her teeth through the third exam to claim a Special Class spot.
Impressive resolve.
She winked playfully, and Krash’s face screamed shouldn’t have seen that.
“Haring Lagren.”
Krash flicked his gaze at the next name.
Short black hair shimmering with purple undertones.
A violet pansy-shaped pin in her locks.
‘Poison Peak.’
Daughter of the Ten Heavenly Strong, the Poison King—and the one who’d slain Bianca after she became a vengeful ghost.
Her icy eyes met no one’s.
Her expression suggested she’d written off the whole world.
“Finally, Arthur Gramalte.”
With fake Arthur called last, Ganon flicked the paper away.
“Those named are the Special Class.”
The classroom door slid open right then.
Everyone gasped in awe at the figure who entered.
Dark blue hair whipping behind her, arrogant eyes devoid of human warmth.
A woman in Martial Studies uniform strode in straight-backed.
The century’s genius, bearer of a moniker shared by only two peers.
Sword Saint Charlotte Valheim.
Without preamble, she planted herself arms crossed.
“Follow me. Special Class second-gen.”
No explanations, just her command.
She embodied “sole sovereign of heaven and earth” perfectly.
Krash shot her a no way look.
Their eyes met, and she flashed her signature smile.
In that instant, Krash understood.
The Special Class hadn’t existed before.
So why create it now?
Someone had proposed it.
And the one here to collect the new recruits was none other than Charlotte.
‘Then... that crazy big sis Charlotte...’
She’d gone straight to Chancellor Durandal—the former War Emperor—fought him, earned recognition, and pushed her idea through.
Krash stared in disbelief.
Some had acted on Durandal’s entrance speech.
But none had gotten approval.
Charlotte, however, had formally submitted her proposal and birthed the Special Class.
To hurl the incoming Krash straight into first-gen combat.
‘...I underestimated Charlotte.’
Now he got why Arthur suspected her as another regressor.
Only one person could pull off such a radical move.
Charlotte Valheim. No one else.