The Top Seat
After enrolling in the Imperial Academy, the first things I did were gather information—and investigate myself.
To return to where I had come from, I needed to understand this world. And I needed to slow my transformation into a monster.
That was why I was in the library. There was no better place to accumulate knowledge of this world.
I still did not know the language well, so reading was a considerable ordeal. Even so, with a dictionary open beside me, I could manage somehow. When a word defied interpretation, I simply followed the flow of the surrounding text and pieced together a rough meaning.
What I had learned so far was this:
About twenty years ago, a hero chosen by the Holy Sword clashed with the Demon King and they destroyed each other. People believed that with the Demon King’s death the continent would reclaim peace. Reality proved otherwise.
When the Demon King fell to the hero, he shattered into thousands of fragments that scattered across the entire continent. Those fragments became food for monsters. Monsters that consumed the Demon King’s flesh and blood grew stronger. In the end, the death of that colossal being only plunged the continent into a second wave of chaos.
Demon King’s Seeds.
That was the name given to monsters that had eaten a Demon King’s Fragment. With such creatures seething across the land, this world was far from peaceful.
Yet that was not what held my interest as I read.
A world that had once held both a hero and a Demon King. If this place was the inside of a novel, what kind of setting would its “protagonist” possess?
Had the hero left behind a child? If so, that child was the most likely candidate for the role.
Generally speaking, there were two ways to end a story. The first was to reach the ending—to see the conclusion. The second was for the protagonist to die midway through. A novel without its protagonist could not exist. Therefore a world that collapsed after its protagonist’s death would spit me back to where I belonged.
Probably.
“······.”
I could not be certain, yet I had to cling to the idea. No other method of returning had occurred to me. Doing nothing and simply waiting to become a monster was far too wretched a fate. I might go mad along the way, or become a calamity that swallowed the Central Empire whole. In a single year my emotions had already dulled by half; even I could not guess what would remain later.
I felt sorry for this world’s protagonist, but it could not be helped. I wanted to go home. I did not want to become a monster. Therefore I had to become the villain who stood in the protagonist’s path.
The entrance examination was a memory I preferred not to revisit. I had only just transmigrated, and my control over my strength had been clumsy. Even now I would not claim mastery, but back then I had been far worse.
I disliked standing out, so I had intended to finish at a moderate level. When I came to my senses, I was the top-ranked student. Much of the exam had taken the form of mock duels; deliberately losing had not been easy. Subduing a leading candidate for first place without leaving a single scratch had apparently counted as bonus points.
For a while afterward life had been exhausting. Wherever I went, prickling stares followed. Recently I had thought the attention had quieted—until it returned in full force.
“Iria! You were joking earlier, right?! You were, weren’t you?! I just made a bet with a Class B student!”
“Who are you?”
A male student I did not know seized both my shoulders in the corridor and shouted. At other times upperclassmen from different years would cast pointed looks my way.
“To think something like that is the top student… The prestige of the Imperial Academy has truly hit rock bottom.”
“······.”
I had no idea when they had decided we were close enough for such familiarity. Had any of them contributed even a scrap to my pitiful mana reserves? Everyone here suffered from an excess of idle curiosity about strangers. In the back alleys, beings like these would not even have met my eyes.
I had heard that total mana capacity was crucial in the Combat Magic Department. Disliking attention, I had deliberately chosen the magic track where I possessed no talent—yet this time the choice seemed to have backfired. Still, there had been no alternative. Entering the Swordsmanship Department had been out of the question. If I drew a blade, the opponent would almost certainly die; I simply did not know how to subdue someone without killing them. In selecting a department I had not chosen what I liked so much as fled the worst option.
“Iria, just a moment of your time—”
“No.”
“Duel me!”
“I already said no.”
“Hngh.”
I coldly rebuffed yet another unknown student and kept walking. I had lost count of how many duel requests had arrived since morning; halfway through I had simply stopped tallying them. A weary sigh escaped me. There was still a fair amount of free time before the next class, and the thought that more challenges would fill it already irritated me.
I sat on an empty bench in the park and leaned back. A familiar voice reached me.
“You look tired.”
I turned toward the sound. Someone had already been sitting on the long bench I had chosen. At least the person addressing me this time was not a stranger.
Blue hair, and glasses pressed low on the nose.
“Professor Albert?”
I was poor at remembering faces, yet those dark circles and half-dead eyes had stayed with me. I had seen him only recently—the professor of Introduction to Mana.
He quietly admired the park scenery while sipping coffee, then spoke in a calm, resonant voice.
“That is simply how the position of Academy top student works. A student who graduates first is granted the privilege of choosing any career path they desire.”
Had he already anticipated everything that would befall me? To a man with no short career as a professor, this was merely an annual, entirely natural phenomenon.
“Most of the students are not challenging you because you look easy, Miss Iria. This is their first time at school as well; they wish to be broken and to learn. They may simply want to feel how wide the gap is between themselves and the top student.”
“Is that so.”
“Of course exceptions always exist. In the end, if you refuse them, the requests will continue. If you keep only running, they will decide you are afraid.”
“So I am supposed to accept every single one?”
A brief silence fell while Albert swallowed another mouthful of coffee. He allowed himself a moment of leisure before continuing.
“Not necessarily. But that is what I did. I am an Academy graduate myself—and I was the top student. When you stand above others, they bite the moment they sense weakness.”
“······.”
“So I proved myself with strength. I crushed them so thoroughly they never even thought of climbing up again. After a while the duel requests stopped. I imagine they had accepted the truth: with their skill, defeating me was impossible.”
Albert added quietly, as though reminiscing about the past, yet somehow aiming the words at me.
“I am not telling you to become like me. But you do possess ability, Miss Iria. Chasing distant goals is fine, yet if you neglect what stands right in front of you, life will grow tiresome.”
With that he rose, empty coffee cup in one hand and a magic tome cradled in the other.
“I will take my leave. Do your best.”
“Yes.”
“Ah—by the way, I hear the second daughter of House Aster is aiming for the top seat. Be careful. Those who hold the rank must bear its weight.”
Lucia Aster.
Albert mentioned the name last and departed. According to him, students challenging the top rank at the start of term was an annual school tradition of sorts. And the one who sat in that seat had to endure its weight.
I frowned.
“······What a nuisance.”
Honestly, it was a nuisance. I had never wanted the top seat. If possible I would have handed it to anyone. But that required dueling—and deliberately losing. How? Even if I let myself be hit and pretended to be hurt, no one believed me. Apparently I had no talent for acting.
So was I supposed to accept the duels after all? I did not want that either.
“······.”
Unsure what to do, I decided to do nothing. If I left things alone for a few days, everyone would grow tired and drop away on their own.
Afternoon class: Fundamentals of Swordsmanship.
Swordsmanship lessons were often held outdoors, focusing more on practical drills than theory. Because the class involved physical activity, changing rooms were provided.
And inside one of those changing rooms, certain people were making preparations.
“Mei. Get ready.”
The purple-haired young woman, Lucia, smiled sweetly. Something had been caught in the barrier she had woven from mana waves. Someone was about to enter. She tapped her servant’s shoulder in signal.
Moments later the changing-room door opened, and the servant, as if waiting for precisely that instant, flung water.
—Splash!
A clear, ringing sound accompanied the drenching of the silver-haired girl who had just stepped through the doorway.
“Oh my! I’m so sorry. Our servant made a mistake and—”
Lucia covered her mouth with one hand as she spoke. Yet even if she hid her lips, she could not hide the crescent curve of her eyes. Anyone could see the open mockery she was wearing.
Iria lifted her head. Her crimson irises shone with a vivid light.
“······?”
Those blood-red eyes, enough to raise gooseflesh, fixed on Lucia.
And the changing-room door closed.