Zeke's Sword (3)
'This girl... So she was going around calling herself Elise at the academy...'
Zeke felt a refreshing clarity wash over him, like a blockage had suddenly cleared.
No matter how many romance novels he was juggling—seven, at last count—it had struck him as odd that he couldn't recall a heroine with such an unusual name.
That explained his hesitation when he first heard "Soy Spoon." It rang a bell, but he couldn't pin it down, so he'd gathered the other students just to be sure.
"Soy Spoon—no, you seem to prefer Elise. I'll call you that, then."
"Eh...? Ah, uh...."
She bit her lip hard, her face flushing with embarrassment at having her secret name exposed, and bowed her head deeply.
'Goddamn author bastard, twisting up her name like that.'
He'd possessed the body mid-serialization, so his memories didn't cover it, but it was probably played for laughs later on—or maybe the villainess discovered it first and used it to mock her.
"Soy, who's that? No way... your boyfriend?"
"Bro, he's super handsome."
"N-No, you can't say that! He's an academy instructor."
At her words, her sister and little brother stared at Zeke in shock.
Realizing this wouldn't do, Soy Spoon stepped forward.
"Um, Instructor, what brings you here...?"
"This is a bakery, isn't it? I came to buy bread."
"Ah! Bread! Yes, yes! Come on in. But the leftovers are a bit stale already...."
Soy Spoon glanced nervously at him, wondering if she could serve something like this to a noble.
"Doesn't matter."
'I just wanted to grab some bread and go since I'm starving... but running into the heroine like this? Might as well build a little rapport. And lay some groundwork to pull her into swordsmanship class if possible.'
"I came for bread originally... but since we've crossed paths, care to chat a bit?"
Soy Spoon blinked in surprise, then nodded, recalling how he'd pointed her out at the entrance ceremony.
"Uh, sure. Why don't you come inside for some tea?"
"Mm. Bread too."
Zeke followed Soy Spoon into the bakery.
Ding-a-ling—
The interior was a modest wooden space, patched up here and there, infused with the warm scent of bread that made it feel cozy.
A few candles cast a soft glow over everything.
It wasn't luxurious, but the love poured into maintaining the place was evident.
As Zeke looked around, Soy Spoon scratched her head sheepishly.
"Sorry it's so shabby...."
"Why apologize?"
"Eh?"
"No need. It's a fine shop."
Zeke, who dined and slept in luxury every day, appreciated the body being comfortable—but he also missed this rough edge a little.
Especially on days like today, when maids had fussed over him from dawn: bathing him, primping his face, styling his hair.
It made the torment all the worse.
Gurgle—
'Fuck, I'm starving.'
"Th-Then, please have a seat in the back!"
"Right. Thanks."
Soy Spoon was the daughter of poor commoners.
Her father had died when she was young; she had no memory of him.
Her mother, older sister, little brother, and herself—that was the whole family.
From a very young age, she'd hated her name.
'Soy.' If it had just been that, she might have embraced it happily.
Her mother had named her hoping she'd grow strong and grounded like the earth.
But paired with "Spoon," it became "mud spoon."
Life as commoners without a breadwinner was grueling.
Even with her mother and sister slaving away at the bakery, poverty clung to them.
While they worked, Soy handled housework and sewing side jobs by day, studying by night.
Anything to escape poverty.
In the capital, literate commoners could at least find decent work.
Then one day.
Running an errand for her mother to the grocer's, she spotted a poster on the wall: Lamieli Academy entrance exam announcement.
'Wait, even commoners can... take this?'
Lightning struck her mind.
Lamieli—the empire's top academy.
Graduating from there guaranteed your future.
Not just escape from poverty, but real abundance.
'If I graduate, my family won't have to suffer anymore.'
With resolve hardening her face, she told her mother and sister she wanted to take the exam.
They exchanged bitter smiles, then pulled out what little they'd scrimped together.
"Soy, we knew you were studying. We saved a bit, figuring something like this might come up."
Soy teared up at their thoughtfulness.
"Mom.... But I'm not Soy, I'm Elise...."
"Right, Soy. It's not much, but with a loan, we can manage. Use it for tuition and open a shop near the academy. Not sure if it'll thrive, but we'll scrape by till you graduate."
"...Thank you so much, sis. But I'm Elise...."
With their savings, her own, and a massive loan,
they barely secured a rundown spot on the edge of the academy district, bordering the old slums.
The constant clang of ironworking kept the price low, but even that was pricier than expected.
Might as well have stayed in the village sending money.
And tuition was still an issue.
They hadn't accounted for capital prices.
But the whole family had already packed up and left the village.
As they debated returning,
Soy pulled off a miracle.
Top of the entrance exams!
"Mooom!! Siiiis!!! I topped the exams!!! Top spot!!!! Tuition's waived!!!"
"Really!? Elise!!!!!! Good girl, our daughter!!!!"
"Elise!!! I believed in you!!!"
"Finally calling me Elise!!"
With tuition waived, they could just barely keep the shop afloat and commute.
Still, settling wasn't easy.
But four years apart from Soy,
and her having no real support among flashy nobles as a poor village girl—
they decided to open the bakery here.
Luckily, the bread was tasty and cheap, building word-of-mouth; even some nobles' servants came by.
And now, that man had come himself.
The one from the entrance ceremony who'd shocked her to her core.
The sword instructor who'd made even her—someone who'd never thought about swords—clench her fists.
She'd played it cool out front, but Soy's mind was chaos now.
'Aaaah—what do I do!? All we have is leaf tea!? B-Bread!? Just the baguettes from morning, all hard!!'
She had no idea where she'd gotten the nerve to invite him in. She wanted to smack herself.
'He'll go, "Filth like this dirties my mouth!" and hit me... Maybe he'll pay medical fees after?'
Clutching her head, but having let him in, she couldn't offer nothing.
She warmed the stale bread, brewed tea.
Tray shaking, she headed to the table.
"Mm. Your sister said you're top of your year."
"R-Really!? Her? I thought she was lying!"
"Don't call her 'her.' That's your sister."
'James! Why are you casually chatting with the instructor!?'
She whipped around, but her sister was plastered to the wall, eyes lifeless.
Forcing a smile, Soy called her damn brother.
"J-James?"
"Yeah, Elise sis!"
"Not Elise, Soy! Huh?"
Caught off-guard that he'd called her Elise for once, words tumbled out.
Ahem. Ahem. Composing herself, she said,
"James, could you step out for a bit?"
"Huh? But I wanna keep hearing from bro—"
"Je. Im. Ss. Sp. Oon.?"
Full name, stiff: I'm pissed.
Best obey.
James stood and joined Silia.
Silia pinched his shoulder.
"Ow! Why!?"
"Sh. Ut. Up. James."
Soy cringed at her family. Desperate to change the subject, she turned to Zeke.
"Um, Instructor, you had something to say...?"
"Yeah. Swordsmanship class."
Soy set down the tea and uncut baguette.
She reached for the bread knife to slice it.
"I thought about it after hearing you, but swordsmanship... Can you make money with that?"
"Money, huh."
"Y-Yeah, as you can see, our family's situation is...."
Then.
Bang—
"Hey!"
Five rough-looking men burst in.
Soy, Silia, and even James froze.
Silia stepped forward first.
"Why are you here again!? We paid the interest last time!"
The square-jawed one chuckled.
"Yeah, we took it. But it felt a bit short."
"No way!"
"Oh, didn't we mention? Interest rises 50 silver a month."
"That's ridiculous!!"
Soy leaped up too.
"We signed a contract!"
"Contract? Was there such a thing?"
Soy stomped to the corner, yanking out the paper.
"It's right here! Clearly....!"
But the man sneered, cutting her off.
"Hmm, but you sure that's wise? When we've got your mom?"
"M-Mom!"
"Business is booming here lately. When you make more, you gotta share more, right?"
The others snickered.
"Yeah, that's how people live!"
"Borrow big, fear the debt."
"Unless... there's another way...."
They leered at Soy and Silia.
Soy's eyes wavered.
Mom had gone for supplies yesterday—and gotten nabbed.
'You filthy bastards!'
After arriving in the capital,
scouting spots, the building agent introduced them.
Smiling sweetly, promising fair rates.
And if they backed out, just return principal.
They'd borrowed big.
Bought Hilais Bakery with it.
Now this.
"N-No way!"
Gurgle—
Zeke stared piercingly at the bread before him.
He hadn't touched the knife, waiting for Soy to cut it.
Having endured hunger's torment in the dark fantasy world, meals were sacred to him.
Truth be told, he was famished enough to devour the whole uncut loaf.
But decorum stopped him—this body's manners.
In his old dark fantasy body, he'd shrug off hunger.
Now? It hit like anyone else's.
Crust hard, but steam rising, aroma teasing—inside had to be moist and fluffy.
'Tea... What even is this? Leaf tea? Romance novel specialty?'
Swallowing hard, then these intruders.
Zeke scowled at them.
'Fuck, I'm dying of hunger. Who the hell are these assholes.'
From context, loan sharks.
'Figures, our mud spoon lives up to the name.'
Romance heroines' early struggles were cliché passive skills.
Someone'd bail her out soon.
But Zeke saw opportunity: indebt her to him.
'Bread first, though. Seriously starving.'
These punks were no threat; dark fantasy civilians were tougher.
They wanted money, not injury—hostage mom for squeezing more.
Rewrite contract, release her.
Plenty of time post-meal.
He knew their type inside out.
'Elise, I'll help after this. Cut my bread?'
He eyed her pleadingly, but she ignored him, fixated.
Zeke spoke up.
"Elise, cut the bread."
But her ears were deaf to him.
She glared at square-jaw, eyes blazing.
"Where's my mom!"
"Heh. Hand over that scrap first."
"Elise, the bread...."
"You bastards!"
"Eli...."
"Release my mom!"
Zeke sighed.
Had to do it the usual way.
'Yohayden folks were baffled by this too.'
No one minded him now,
but meals were hell with the body's glitches.
He pulled a small, blunt wooden spork from his pocket.
Forcing trembling limbs,
fixed the bread,
drew mana-thread from fingers to slice—
"Think we're joking!? Huh!? Don't care what happens to your mom?"
Crash!
"Kyaa!"
One hurled a chair.
It flew toward Zeke's table.
Shatter.
Thud.
Bread hit the floor. Hot tea spilled over.
His grip snapped the spork.
"......"
Zeke froze.
Trembling eyes on the fallen baguette.
'Three-second rule...!! Ah, got it! You body bastard!!!'
Veins bulged on his forehead.
Casually wiping tea from his face with a handkerchief.
These idiots ruined his first meal in days.
He'd planned to deal with them after anyway....
"......Fucking bastards...."
Zeke rose, picked up the baguette.
Unexpectedly nice grip.
'Oh? Nice... Pretty good?'
Whoosh—
Whoosh—
Whoosh—
He swung it in the air a few times.
Nodded, satisfied.
Crust just right, inside soft.
Without mana, it'd just hurt.
No edge, not metal.
Light as bread.
But sword-sized.
'Hm. Trim the handle end? Mud spoon's got another use.'
Zeke grinned.
'With this... Sword instructor? Doable. Heroines bring fortune.'
He'd found his weapon.
"Wh-Who the hell are you!"
Finally noticing him, they yelled in panic.
Boss scanned him quick.
Fine clothes. Neat hair.
'N-Noble!?'
Pointing at us with... b-bread?
"Zeke Clayman."
"Z-Ze Clayman...?"
"Yeah. You'll never forget that name after today."