The Genius's Rival

Who was the finest student Minerva Academy had ever produced, in all the years since its gates first opened?

Until recently, everyone would have offered a different answer. Now they all spoke with a single voice.

The freshman who left every last professor supervising the entrance examination slack-jawed and stunned, admitted as the academy's top-ranked student. The newcomer who, even before setting foot on campus, already possessed talent so outrageous it defied all reason. Ranked first in a faculty-wide survey of the student they most looked forward to teaching.

Rie Arche von Haniel.

Some would argue it was far too soon to say. She was only a first-year, barely beginning her first semester. Hadn't plenty of promising talents crumbled without warning?

But to say such a thing was to ignore what this freshman had already shown — a wall of talent so vast that no one could hope to climb it.

"Stop! The winner of this bout is first-year Rie!"

In a swordsmanship lecture, she faced a teaching assistant and won with room to spare.

"...I'll be honest with you. You're a genius."

A humanities professor swallowed his pride and conceded that her talent surpassed his own.

"Student Rie? Would it be all right if I used this formula you refined as reference material for future lectures?"

Even the magic theory professor, a man infamous for his pride, set that pride aside and made a request.

Talent, status, and looks that could put an elf to shame. Among this year's incoming class, the student who commanded everyone's attention was, without question, Rie.

The semester had been underway less than a month, and already — from the first-years to the fourth-years — every student on campus was openly calling her the academy's top student. No one contradicted it. Even the professors nodded along.

And then that same extraordinary Rie dropped a bombshell at a tea party. She said there was someone she desperately wanted to defeat. That this student was right here at Minerva Academy. That her dream, on the day she graduated, was to hear that rival say the words, "You won."

Naturally, the whole of Minerva Academy erupted in curiosity. What kind of student could it be? What manner of talent did they possess, for the academy's genius to call them a rival?

In a school where not a single student wanted to be compared to Rie, who on earth could stand as her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠counterpart? Every last student on campus had their attention fixed on one thing: the identity of that rival.

"...Why is she doing this to me."

I crumpled the campus newspaper — the one plastered with all that rival nonsense — into a tight, furious ball.

This woman was taking revenge on me. She had to be. There was no other explanation for a public hit this blatant. This was not okay!

I had taken it upon myself to school a clueless, immature little girl, and that was where it all went wrong. Reborn into a fantasy world with a bizarre ability and a silver spoon already in my mouth, I had clearly let the whole thing go to my head — and I had let it go completely.

Maybe becoming a child again had dropped my mental age along with it. I had been far too harsh on a nine-year-old.

Honestly, I had just happened to be born with this ability. That was all. And yet I had been so full of myself that I had completely crushed that hardworking girl into the dirt.

...You crazy bastard. You should have known your place and stayed down.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that little girl would come back ten years later wearing the title of the academy's top incoming student.

I understood the gravity of the situation on instinct. Becoming the protagonist of a story is, of course, a fine thing — an event worth celebrating. Becoming that protagonist's formidable rival, however, has nothing good about it no matter how you turn it over. Especially when said protagonist is a freshman basking in the admiring gazes of every person on campus. And especially when, set beside that protagonist, you have weaknesses anyone could see.

I would bet anything that people would compare us at every turn and mutter, That guy is supposed to be her rival?

I tried to bury the anxiety and focus on the lecture. The whispering behind me made that considerably harder.

"Hey. You ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠don't think that rival is Lucian, do you?"

"Lucian? Oh wait — that actually makes sense. He's pretty famous too."

"I heard he was already impressive before he even got into the academy."

I never imagined that using my ability to land an academic excellence scholarship would come back to haunt me like this. If I had known things would blow up this badly, I would have phoned it in and settled for somewhere in the middle of the rankings.

It is embarrassing to say about myself, but I had been considered something of a prospect in my own right. I had posted excellent results on the entrance examination, and the professors had heaped praise on me, saying their expectations were high.

"Lucian."

"Yes, Professor."

"For the time being, I believe I'll be conducting lectures using the paper you published as reference material. The one on Response Strategies According to Monster Behavioral Patterns."

"I'm honored you'd use my paper as lecture material, Professor. If anything, I'm the one who's pleased."

"Kind of you to say so. This year's freshmen — Student Rie included — really are a talented bunch."

I had been reincarnated into a fantasy world, and after living in it for a while I had realized there was something different about me. If I looked at something, I could immediately grasp and understand everything there was to know about it.

So I had watched people swing their swords, parsed the techniques, and even patched the weaknesses in them. I had studied a few magic formulas and proposed entirely new approaches. The paper I had published not long ago had been written from what I picked up by casually looking over a handful of monsters.

Judged on that alone, I could have passed as Rie's rival without anyone batting an eye.

But I had one fatal weakness — or rather, a blessing that now conveniently overshadowed everything else.

"Nah. Lucian's only good on paper. He's a total washout in a real fight. What kind of rival is that?"

"Oh, right. I remember now — he scored perfectly on the written exam, but he completely bombed swordsmanship and magic, so he ended up on the literature track."

The girls were not wrong. When it came to anything martial, I was useless to a truly pathetic degree. More Apprentice Knights were coming up through the ranks thanks to swordsmanship I had refined — and I myself was hopeless with a blade. Mages were casting more spells than ever thanks to formulas I had simplified — and I could not use a single one of them.

In a fantasy world, being below average in both combat and magic was a one-way ticket straight into the abyss.

"Yeah, true. Hmm, so it's not Lucian."

"Then who is it? Maybe Senior Mikael from the third year?"

"There's also Senior Caineltz in the fourth year."

"What if she called him a rival but she's actually just in love with him?"

I did my best to ignore the whispering and drag my attention back to the lecture. I needed to rack up good marks from the first year if I wanted to meet more people and build a wider network. But the only thing that rose behind my eyes was the headstrong little girl I had met ten years ago — and the childish way she had stomped her feet and told me to just wait and see.

In the end, I walked out of the lecture hall without remembering a single thing that had been taught.

It was lunchtime, but I had no desire to eat. I just wanted to sit somewhere, drink a little hot chocolate, and quiet the pounding in my skull. So I turned my steps toward the cafe on campus — and immediately regretted the decision.

"It's been a while, Lucian."

Rie Arche von Haniel was waiting for me.

I could have turned on my heel that instant and said, I'm sorry, do I know you? But the moment my eyes landed on the hot chocolate in her hands, a fierce temptation rooted my feet to the floor.

This wicked woman! Using someone's weakness against them like that!

An ability that granted complete theoretical mastery of anything I so much as looked at. By any objective measure — not just my own opinion — it was a cheat. And that cheat had one weakness.

In the presence of chocolate, I was utterly, unconditionally, in every conceivable circumstance, helpless.

If a cup of hot chocolate was swaying in front of my face like that, I was no better than a child who would chase candy to the ends of the earth. There was no escaping it. And Rie, having known me since we were children, was perfectly aware that I lost my mind over anything containing chocolate.

"That's right. Here — I have hot chocolate. Very sweet hot chocolate. I'm treating you, so you wouldn't turn it down, would you?"

Please. Just this once, let me withstand it. Just once, let me overcome this temptation. I can do this. I can do this. Just once in my life, I am ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠begging—

Slurp.

...When I came back to my senses, I was sitting across from Rie, diligently sipping away at the hot chocolate.

If God existed, I wanted to ask Him why this body of mine was physically incapable of walking away from chocolate.

I was busy enjoying the blessing of sugar when Rie issued her declaration of war right across the table. Was she still trying to get revenge for what happened back then? They say a gentleman's revenge is never too late even after ten years, but honestly, this was a bit much.

"On the day I graduate, I will make you acknowledge me. I swear it."

"..."

"Just you wait. I'll make you regret every word you said that day."

I felt a little wronged, to be honest. It had been a bit of teasing between a pair of foolish children. Remembering something from over ten years ago and pulling this now was, from my perspective, extremely inconvenient. Couldn't she just let me live quietly? A little cooperation — was that so much to ask? Somebody save me.

I figured I ought to say something, anything, to wriggle out of the situation I was in.

"Even so, the fact that you lost back then doesn't change."

"..."

Ah. This damn mouth of mine. Couldn't keep itself shut for even that long, and now it had gone and run itself again.

I could feel both of Rie's eyes blazing like open furnaces. I sat there like a condemned man and quietly slurped my hot chocolate.

...Though now that I thought about it, had I even said anything strange?

I had beaten Rie ten years ago. I had beaten her with swordsmanship that was, by every measure, completely hopeless. Which meant I had once defeated someone who might become a Sword Master before long!

That was not a dark chapter of my past. That was a life's crowning achievement.

Had that realization endowed me with some strange new confidence? Before I knew it, the words were already out.

"If we fought right now, I might still win, you know?"

"......"

And the next day, I heard the news that Mikael — the finest swordsman among the third-years — had been utterly demolished by Rie.