Chapter 13
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Preparation (1)
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A refreshing morning. Warm sunlight! Clear air!
I savored sensations I hadn't been able to enjoy for so long, my senses having been wholly consumed by pain until now.
After raising my stats in the dungeon, the world felt entirely different.
This is what a normal body feels like.
"Huu."
That didn't mean blood stopped flowing, but I couldn't help feeling satisfied with my improved condition compared to before.
The magic sword I'd shattered and devoured while slaying the Ink Scale Blood Serpent in Lenoc's Cave.
I'd handed that monster's fang over to Petra and asked her to forge a new blade, and she'd returned it with lightweight enchantment applied once more.
Feeling its definite lightness, I slowly made my way toward the classroom.
This class was Professor Ardin Ephelion's.
I might not remember the other professors' names, but Ardin's was etched firmly in my mind.
He was one of the bosses the protagonist's party would take down later, after all.
The moment I stepped into the classroom, my eyes met Professor Ardin's.
His emotionless gaze fixed on me.
Then, as if utterly disinterested, he turned his head away to stare down at the lectern.
A faint oddness stirred in me, but I headed to my seat and sat anyway.
Once everyone was settled, the professor surveyed the room before opening his mouth.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Professor Ardin Ephelion, in charge of combat and practical courses."
A smattering of short applause.
"Given that this is combat and practical training, we'll focus far more on hands-on lessons than theory."
As expected.
Professor Ardin was the sort who prized real experience as much as book knowledge. If need be, he'd drag students into dungeons to build it firsthand.
"It's our first class, so we won't dive straight into practicals, but I do hope none of you leave your beloved weapons lying around."
What followed were simply precautions for fieldwork and a rough outline of upcoming lessons.
"...So if a second-circle mage is in the middle of casting, the warrior should..."
Basic stuff anyone here ought to know. The professor had to realize we all understood it already.
Yet he hammered it home regardless.
"Dungeons are never cleared solo. Your comrades beside you aren't dead weight—they're assets to be utilized."
Because the vast majority who entered Iliad Academy fell into arrogance the instant they arrived.
No matter how much they were hyped as geniuses or whatever, they were still kids averaging around fifteen.
I'd heard plenty overconfident fools wasted their talents on stupid stunts.
Hence the constant emphasis, and the bans on entering dungeons without permission.
I spun the mana pen in my hand idly.
The Absolute Shadow and Eternal Ice Crystal I'd snagged from Lenoc's Cave were off-script elements.
Agnes Bayern had gotten her sword and even mastered simultaneous deployment—who knew what ripples that would cause?
Still, with the Demon King invading two years from now on the day hero Lee Han turned seventeen for his coming-of-age rite, I had to raise them somehow.
There were a couple more hidden opportunities and dungeons in the area.
All stashed away by the great mage Iliad himself, each one packed with top-tier rewards...
Can't claim them at this point in the story, though.
Maybe after wrapping up a few major episodes and Lee Han hits advanced mana user status.
Lots to pick up in the meantime, too.
I'd given the Absolute Shadow to Agnes, but going solo meant nothing in the end.
Protagonist Lee Han and his five heroines.
Perfectly coordinated in their roles, and it was still a coin toss whether they'd win.
That was the Demon King for you.
"And with that, class dismissed."
As the lesson wrapped, Professor Ardin moved to leave.
I started toward Agnes, but a prickling stare made me glance back.
Professor Ardin.
The future boss was glaring daggers at me.
He seemed about to speak, then just strode out of the classroom instead. All I could do was guess what idiocy "Deron" had pulled this time.
"So..."
Agnes was chatting with someone.
I approached slowly and tapped her shoulder. Her clear eyes looked up at me.
"Ah, Deron. What is it?"
"How's the wound? All right?"
Not life-threatening, but she'd taken some hits battling those knights and skeletons.
Last I saw before we parted, blood had been dripping steadily from her.
"Nothing serious, so I'm fine. If anything, my body feels lighter than before."
"Glad to hear it. Who's your friend here?"
At my question, her slightly trembling frame turned.
Fiery red locks like crimson flames. A face that screamed passion at first glance. Eyes matching her hair perfectly.
The polar opposite of Agnes's vibe.
One of the five heroines.
"Erina."
Erina Philstein.
I tilted my head at the introduction. But why are you chatting up Agnes?
In the original story, they were practically sworn enemies—but that came later, after some plot progression?
"Erina... Got it. Mind if I borrow Agnes for a bit? Got something important to discuss."
"P-Pardon? Oh, sure! Go right ahead."
Why the formal speech from you?
Agnes's politeness was passive by nature, but Erina wasn't the type—or so I recalled.
The original her was a cheerful, fiery girl, but the one before me now...
Looked like a spooked herbivore.
Was my face that scary?
Or was it Deron's built-up notoriety scaring her?
Not the former, so the latter.
This damn reputation needed cleaning up somehow.
I had no hobby in watching people tremble or scowl in disgust whenever they saw me.
I'd planned to coast quietly through the academy, but since I was attending anyway, might as well fix the image.
Showing gradual improvement through Agnes should do the trick, right?
With that thought, I led Agnes outside.
"That guy's really nothing like the rumors?"
"Yes, at least from what I saw. He was actually pretty kind."
Erina's face twisted in confusion.
Kind? Could that word even exist in the same sentence as Deron Phillasia?
Born into the Philstein countess family, she'd heard plenty about noble houses.
Naturally, rumors about the Phillasia duke's eldest son abounded.
Rumors painted him as trash without equal.
The Phillasia heir rarely showed in high society, fueling endless gossip.
His academy enrollment had set the social scene ablaze.
Even Erina, who ignored society to focus solely on swordplay, had caught wind of it.
"So the rumors really aren't true?"
"Rumors aren't always fact, are they? Especially about someone who never shows his face."
"So..."
Erina trailed off, unable to continue.
The very subject of their chat had just tapped Agnes on the shoulder.
A height that made her doubt they were the same age.
Immaculate uniform suiting a refined face. An appearance no one could call sickly.
If noble dignity stemmed from beauty, could any man out-noble him?
A touch colder somehow, yet exuding a newly disciplined aura unlike before.
Agnes spoke to him.
"Ah, Deron. What is it?"
Deron inquiring about Agnes's wound.
Erina now fully believed she'd spent yesterday with him.
She'd only chatted because a pretty girl sat next to her—never dreamed she'd have ties to Deron Phillasia.
Felt like she'd poked a hornet's nest.
"Who's your friend?"
The next words from Deron made Erina gulp hard.
His eyes turned to her.
Unthinkingly cowed by his presence, she blurted polite speech.
"Erina."
Deron stared at her a moment, then said he'd remember.
Remember what? What exactly?
Her mind whirled in chaos.
She half-worried he'd threaten her right there.
Agnes had floated the idea that rumors might be false, but that didn't make it gospel truth.
Even if only partly accurate, that "remember" could easily be a veiled threat.
So she'd nodded absently when he asked to borrow Agnes.
They moved off, and only then did she realize Agnes would be alone with Deron.
What if the rumors held truth and she was being coerced?
What if the threats kept her from badmouthing him, forcing her to claim the rumors false?
Her wild thoughts chained together like iron links, culminating in one conclusion.
I'll tail them secretly.
Follow Agnes and Deron.
That was Erina's resolution.
If she witnessed any coercion, she'd report straight to a professor.
Such were the naive thoughts of a young countess's daughter, who had lived gazing only at her sword, ignorant of the world's ways.