An Unusual First Impression (2)
A café somewhere on the Academy grounds.
Having finished her first day's schedule, Seria sat across from Lucian, deep in conversation.
“So, Seria. Did you figure out what my ability is?”
Lucian asked with a grin, and Seria answered without much confidence.
“Honestly… I did guess it was something that messed with the senses.”
“And?”
Seria began recalling what had happened during the introductions earlier that day.
“But I never in a million years imagined it would be that….”
“…Second place in the entrance exam. I am Seria Levenstein. My ability is Severance.”
Self-introductions, huh. Do we really have to do this?
Having finished a clean introduction that was warmly received, Seria settled back into her seat with that question lingering in her mind. She'd been somewhat tired of the stifling world of nobility ever since she was a child, after all.
Everyone probably already knows who's who anyway. The families hand out the rosters, so… ah.
Right at that thought, her gaze drifted to the seat beside her.
A boy cracking his neck, apparently about to stand up and introduce himself.
Lucian Peyote.
So not everyone is like that.
Come to think of it, commoners like him would never have memorized a roster. Only now understanding the Academy's true purpose, she gave a small nod.
I was lacking in consideration.
So this was another lesson learned. Ever since meeting him, she seemed to be discovering all sorts of things she'd never noticed before.
Approaching him out of curiosity might have been the right call after all.
So this is another step closer to being a proper noble.
“Pleasure to meet you. I'm Lucian Peyote, first place in the entrance exam.”
Just as her thoughts reached that point, Lucian began his introduction. A soft voice that stood in contrast to the cold impression his sharp eyes gave off—like getting pricked if you came too close. It was one of his charms.
“My ability is…”
Ah, the ability.
She'd been briefly musing on his voice when the cracking of his neck pulled her attention back. Come to think of it, he had asked her to guess his ability.
I suppose that was my own way of snapping back at him for being rude….
She'd made a mistake back then, when her perspective was narrow in so many ways. She still carried it with her. But curious was curious.
What could it be…?
Judging from what he'd shown in the practical exam, it was probably some kind of sensory disruption.
If I'm right, I'll tell him later.
Just as she waited for Lucian's next words with a small flutter of anticipation—
“Illusion.”
Whooosh—
…Huh?
The moment his words registered, her vision warped.
Wh-what…?
The overall scenery hadn't changed much. The spacious classroom of the Sword Department, Instructor Bronson waiting for an answer at the front, and the cadets seated in their places, all wearing expectant expressions as they wondered what the top scorer's ability might be.
Yes, the scenery hadn't changed.
No—more precisely, the scenery had stopped changing. It was still stopped now.
They were all human, so surely they should be breathing, moving—but not a single one of them stirred, as if they'd all turned to stone.
What on earth is this…
Just as Seria's quiet shock began to rise, she suddenly felt as though the world around her had grown darker.
“…!!”
No, it wasn't her imagination.
The bright sky streaming through the windows was genuinely bleeding into darkness, and shadows were blooming in every corner of the classroom.
Lucian! Where's Lucian?!
For some reason, the moment this sudden crisis struck, she found herself searching for him. Seria whipped her head to her right, where he should have been standing.
“…Huh?”
And there was no one there.
The grey-haired boy who had been standing there just moments before was gone.
Wh-where did he…?
Vmmm—
As she panicked and looked around, a strange, alien presence suddenly pulsed from the front of the room. By the time she turned her head toward it—
“Luci…an?”
Shaaaaang—
Lucian, who had burst out of thin air, was already swinging a drawn sword.
Swoosh—
!!!
Just as Seria's face twisted into disbelief at the sight of a sharp blade flying toward her throat—
Shaaaa—
In an instant, the darkness lifted and the sky brightened. The Lucian with an expression so cold she could scarcely believe it was him vanished, and the original Lucian appeared back in the seat beside her.
“…is my ability.”
And those were the words that followed.
What was that….
What was that? A dream? Had she been short on sleep lately?
Things have been a bit busy, but was it that bad…?
No. No.
Seria swept away all the strange hypotheses bubbling up, and recalled the single word she'd heard just before being dragged into that bizarre world.
“Illusion,” he said….
He'd said it at the exact moment of introducing his ability, so it was definitely his power. Which meant that strange phenomenon just now had been his doing too.
What on earth…
Seria touched her slender neck, stunned. The illusion had broken the instant the blade touched her throat, but the cold sensation of steel grazing her skin still lingered vividly. If he'd released the ability even a little later, a faint-hearted cadet could easily have fainted.
“Ah, aaahh…”
“Wh-what just happened?”
“Hey! Frey, wake up! You can't die!”
The surroundings grew chaotic—apparently someone really had lost consciousness, and it wasn't just empty talk.
That's a bit much for a greeting… no, wait a second?
Just as she was about to think it was excessive, a certain thought flashed through Seria's mind.
Don't tell me—did everyone here just experience that?
No way….
It seemed absurd, but judging by the reactions around her, that was exactly what had happened.
How much output does this guy even have….
“Heh.”
Amid her shock, a laugh suddenly reached her ears. When Seria turned her gaze there, she found Instructor Bronson standing in the middle of the chaos, wearing an utterly dumbfounded smile.
SLAM—!
“All right, all right. Quiet. Lay the fallen student down for a moment. He just fainted—he'll come around on his own given time.”
By rapping his desk lightly, Instructor Bronson gathered everyone's attention. Then, with perfect composure while all eyes were on him, he addressed Lucian.
“And Lucian Peyote? A striking first impression is all well and good, but this one was a bit much, don't you think?”
“…My apologies. I got carried away.”
“Right. Be more careful next time. Though I'll say this—you've improved considerably since the entrance exam.”
“Thank you.”
“Mm. In any case, Lucian Peyote's ability is Illusion. Now then… good grief, judging by the state of things, continuing right now is out of the question. We have plenty of time, so we'll take a short break and resume after.”
The cadet who had fainted came to before long. But the trauma seemed to run deep—every time he so much as glanced at Lucian, he'd let out a shriek like “Eeek!”
Somehow or other, the self-introductions managed to wrap up, and the Academy's first day passed anything but peacefully.
“Well, anyway. You did guess that my ability is Illusion.”
I said to Seria, who was wearing an expression of pure disgust as she recalled the whole affair.
Maybe I went a bit overboard?
I'd racked my brain over how to leave a striking first impression and ended up going completely off the rails. The fact that my mana had grown enormously and I was itching to see how far I could push it played its part too. Well, thanks to that, the test went great. So. Haha. Damn it.
“Sigh… I wonder what's going to happen from here on out.”
“…You really have some nerve saying that after pulling a stunt like that.”
“Hey, I didn't know it would turn out like this. Nia Mist—she gave a pretty flashy greeting, so I figured I'd give it a shot too, and it just went wrong.”
As a bonus, my first impression didn't just become striking—it burned so bright it left nothing behind, not even ashes. The silver lining was that most people reacted with awe, so it got written off as a simple bit of hijinks.
“I'm glad you managed to smooth it over, but….”
“Don't even start.”
Seria set her cup down with a clack, looking at me like I was hopeless.
What, doesn't everyone make mistakes? I'm a little offended, honestly.
“Word's going to spread around the Academy soon. That the top scorer knocked out a classmate on day one.”
“…Look, honestly, I don't think it was that excessive. I cut it off at exactly the right moment, didn't I?”
I considered it a good show—a compressed demonstration of what I was capable of.
“Well, you're not wrong. That cadet was just unusually faint-hearted. Set him aside, and it was genuinely impressive.”
“…Really?”
“Yeah. At first I was pretty bitter about losing the top spot, but looking at it now, it doesn't feel like a total loss.”
Hm? What's that supposed to mean?
“So you were bitter?”
“…What. You must have misheard.”
“'Doesn't feel like a total loss'—so that means if we fought, you'd lose to me?”
“…Lucian.”
Seria called my name, her expression hardening, but my face only broke into a wider smile. She'd handed me the perfect teasing material right when I needed a distraction, so I latched on and didn't let go.
“Not denying it? So it's true, then?”
“Haha.”
Under my continued provocation, the corner of Seria's mouth twitched upward.
“I never said I'd lose.”
“Ah, of course. Her Highness the Princess. Your pride never kneels to anyone. But what will you do? The world isn't quite so accommodating.”
“The only reason I can't beat you is because my ability is too dangerous. One graze and your arm comes off—I can't exactly cripple the top scorer, can I?”
“Oh? So you're saying if you could use your ability freely, you'd win?”
“Obviously.”
“Even though you can't see a thing, and couldn't land a hit if you tried?”
“….”
Seria froze solid, her smile still plastered on her face. I watched her and let out a small laugh.
Right—thanks to my little mishap, the other cadets seemed wary of me now. But still, at least I wasn't alone anymore, was I?
No matter how the others reacted, if just a handful of the people closest to me truly saw me for who I was, wouldn't that be enough?
My circle was narrow but deep in my old world too.
Back then, sharing joys and sorrows and leaning on friends in hard times had been enough for a happy life—so this way of thinking wasn't half bad.
And so, under the pretext of deepening our friendship, I kept teasing Seria relentlessly.
“Next! Seria Levenstein, Lucian Peyote! To the sparring arena!”
And here we go again.
The next day, apparently my words had come back to bite me—I'd been matched against Seria for a duel.