An Unusual Man
Fortunately, once Rone had parted ways with Elisha, the puffed-up look vanished and she was back to her usual self in no time.
"Did something happen back there?"
"Mm? No, nothing. I guess the exam just didn't go as well as I hoped. I'm fine now."
I asked in case something was wrong, but Rone only shook her head and handed me an apple with a somewhat weary smile.
Not that I'd asked to be apologized to—I'd just wondered if something had rubbed her the wrong way.
And if she said she was fine, it wasn't my place to press the matter.
So, figuring I'd help lift her spirits anyway, we set off to explore the academy grounds.
Now that my admission was confirmed, there was no harm in getting a feel for the place I'd be living from here on out.
More than anything, I was dying to see what this place actually looked like in the flesh—in the novel, I'd only ever glimpsed it as scenery in illustrations.
You could call it the feeling of a pilgrimage to holy ground.
As I walked along, a rather rundown building came into view.
It wasn't simply old—the exterior looked as though it had been deliberately left to rot.
The moment I laid eyes on it, I knew instinctively what it was.
So that's Aslet Hall.
The dormitory known in the original story as the gathering place for the school's worst underachievers.
From here on out, it would also be where I'd be staying.
I had no idea whether the rooms were singles or shared, but cramped as it might be, I hoped I'd get one to myself.
I knew from my own time in dormitories long ago—get stuck with a garbage roommate and life becomes sheer misery.
"Oh, right. How'd your comprehensive evaluation turn out?"
Mid-thought, I realized I'd never actually asked about her exam results, and threw the question out.
Rone smiled as if to say you're only asking now? and flashed me a V sign.
"Heh. Class C."
"Class C? Oh, not bad at all."
I nodded in satisfaction as the scenario unfolded exactly as it had in the original.
This way, Rone would enter Class C, hiding her strength, and meet Arden—the original story's protagonist, who'd enrolled under the same guise.
And as the two grew close, they'd form a group together for the investigation assignment into the 'Forest of the Mage' up in the northwest.
That was the Forest of the Mage episode, the original's first great set piece.
It was also the turning point that heralded the debut of the 'Followers'—the villains of this world, a pack of evil itself.
At some point in that episode, the two would cross blades with 'Bartel,' a member of the Followers.
Under normal circumstances, Bartel would be impossible for two mere students to bring down.
But Arden—a protagonist who kept her strength hidden—chose protecting Rone over concealing her own existence from the enemy, unleashed her full power for the first time, and struck down the overconfident Bartel.
With that, that episode should unfold properly.
Recalling the original story, I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
I'd worried things might go off the rails from the very first step, but thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case.
I was smiling to myself, satisfied with how reality was aligning with the plot, as I walked with my childhood friend of eighteen years—
"I'm a little sad we won't be in the same class. Aren't you?"
At Rone's sudden words, I flinched without meaning to and turned my head.
There she was, looking faintly wistful, giving a pebble on the roadside a half-hearted kick.
Apparently, being separated from me—someone she'd been close with since childhood—genuinely stung.
Disappointment clouded her blue eyes, and her head drooped.
Now I feel kind of guilty.
Here I was, pleased that events were following the original, while Rone herself was quietly lonely at the thought of being apart from me.
Childhood friend or not, had I really been treating her too much like a tool to keep the original's plot on track?
I reached out right away and gently smoothed her silver hair, letting the gesture carry both my apology and my comfort.
"You're right. It's a shame—but we can still meet up outside of class, can't we?"
"Yeah."
Only then did she smile and look up at me the way she always did.
Ever since we'd gotten older, I'd been trying to keep physical contact to a minimum, but seeing her look so deflated, what could I do?
Besides, whenever I caught those bright, sparkling eyes of hers in moments like this, I almost started to wonder if not doing it was the real crime.
"All right. To celebrate getting in, let's go get something good to eat today. My treat."
"Are you sure? You didn't exactly bring much money with you."
Rone looked up at me with those blue eyes, right where it hurt.
True to her word, my finances were hardly flush—but we could still manage a decent meal for two.
Some of the money I'd earned back in the village, dispatching wild boars and beasts and selling the byproducts, was still left over.
"Don't worry about it, just come on. Feels like ages since we've had a proper meat dinner."
"A-aren't you pushing yourself too hard?"
"Just for today, I can manage."
Taking Rone by the hand—she'd insisted a simple meal was fine for her sake—I led her toward a nearby restaurant.
As a rule, the day of an enrollment or a graduation calls for a fine meal.
Besides, if this was the childhood friend who'd pamper me in luxury someday, surely I could spare an investment this size.
After her admission was settled, Elisha headed for an inn she had reserved just outside the academy grounds.
Granted, for the second daughter of the Krochel family, calling it a mere 'inn' was underselling it—her lodgings were hardly a humble affair.
Knock, knock.
"Come in."
The knock rang out just as she had finished bathing and settled onto the edge of her bed.
Dabbing the moisture from her hair with a towel, Elisha gave her permission to the person across the room in a calm, level tone.
At once the door opened, and a woman with soft orange hair slipped carefully inside.
It was Kelsey, Elisha's closest confidante—the maid she trusted even more than her own family.
"You've worked hard today, my lady. Shall I prepare tea right away?"
"Yes, please do. It's a special occasion—why don't you bring a cup for yourself as well?"
"As you wish."
It was nothing new for Elisha to invite her maid to share her tea, so Kelsey simply gave a composed nod, stepped out, and returned shortly with a trolley in tow.
"My lady, if you sprawl out like that, you'll ruin your hair."
There before her was her mistress, rolling about on the bed with her hair not even fully dried.
Kelsey offered the remark, but—
"It's just the two of us, so it's fine. Let me at least lounge in peace."
"If that is your command…."
Against Elisha's small show of petulance, Kelsey's will to nag collapsed entirely.
For all her outward poise, her mistress was, in daily life, something of a spoiled child.
Or more precisely, whenever she was with someone she could open her heart to, she let her softer side show without reserve.
Kelsey knew this well, which was why she refrained from lecturing at times like these.
It pained her, after all, to see her mistress so carefully composed in every other setting—even in front of her own family, save only in Kelsey's presence.
"How did today's entrance exam go?"
"Not badly. I placed A, and…."
"I'm sure the Lord of the house will be delighted to hear it."
As Kelsey poured the tea, the words slipped out unbidden—and the instant they left her mouth, she regretted it.
In front of her mistress, that word bordered on the forbidden, never to be spoken carelessly.
"Father…? Well. I wonder if he'd be pleased."
Just as expected, a shadow fell across Elisha's face, and Kelsey hastily turned away and bowed at a deep ninety degrees.
"F-forgive me. I spoke out of turn—"
"No, it's fine. The failing is mine, so don't dwell on it. And honestly, there's nothing wrong with what you said."
Ordinary parents rejoice together when they hear of their child's achievements. That much was simply natural.
That was why Elisha felt nothing in Kelsey's offhand remark was mistaken.
It was only a pity that something so utterly taken for granted in a normal household could not be taken for granted in hers.
"Oh, right. I met a truly unusual person at the examination hall today."
Sensing the mood growing heavy, Elisha took it upon herself to change the subject.
The tea was nearly ready anyway—it was about time they moved to the table.
"For you to call someone unusual, my lady, is a first. What manner of person were they?"
"Someone who passed even though their Mana Manifestation came out F. They were from a family I'd never heard of, too…."
"How curious. I'm no expert on the academy, but surely an F in Mana Manifestation—"
"—means immediate rejection. Exactly."
Elisha finished her maid's sentence with a smile, crossed to the chair, and settled into her seat.
Then, with a light snap of her fingers, she delivered a most unexpected piece of news.
"But do you know what? There was exactly one exception in the academy's entire history. One single person."
"No, my lady. At the very least, that is news to me."
"I suppose it would be. To be honest, all I know of it is the legend that's come down in fragments myself."
That legendary figure had always been wrapped in gossip of every kind.
Few of the heroes who fought alongside him in that era had survived, and his lineage, his birthplace—everything about him lay veiled from the world.
"That person was none other than the Sword Saint, Lord Kalon Schweizer."
At the unforeseen name, Kelsey's eyes went wide, then slowly narrowed.
"If I consider the traits passed down of him only in oral tradition… then such a legend is not impossible."
"Right?"
In his lifetime, Kalon Schweizer was said to have been peerless with the sword—yet, conversely, had possessed no talent whatsoever for Mana Manifestation or magic.
Because of it, he had suffered discrimination from the very day he entered the academy, only to later rise to greatness as a swordsman, reaching the realm of the Transcendent on sheer physical prowess alone.
If the applicant Elisha had met truly was a case like Kalon's, then his passing was not beyond all belief.
"Still, it would be hasty to lump him together with Lord Schweizer. I felt nothing from that man—no pressure, no presence of any kind."
Shrugging her shoulders, Elisha waved away her own topic with a wry smile.
It was then that Kelsey ventured an opinion, careful and measured.
"My lady. This may be presumptuous of me, but might I share my own view on the matter?"
"Of course. Go ahead."
Kelsey's counsel had proven invaluable more than once, so Elisha nodded without hesitation.
And from Kelsey's cautious lips came a guess that was entirely unexpected.
"Could it not be, perhaps, that the man stood at so high a realm that Your Ladyship simply failed to perceive it?"
"…What?"
At the rather out-of-left-field suggestion, an uncharacteristically clumsy sound escaped Elisha's lips.
But within moments, something in her maid's words struck a chord, and she furrowed her brow slightly.
…He's right, actually.
If that were true, every piece of the puzzle fell neatly into place.
Anyone truly tutored by the Sword Saint would be exceptionally skilled—that much was certain.
In which case, the examiners could well have recognized at a glance that he was no ordinary applicant.
Moreover, someone of that caliber would stand at a considerable remove in ability from a mere academy student.
It would hardly be strange for Elisha to have been unable to gauge his power.
"What do you think?"
"It might just hold up. It's only a hypothesis, of course…."
Too many details fit too neatly for it all to be coincidence.
More than anything, what lingered in Elisha's mind was the silver-haired woman who had appeared to be acquainted with that man Bell.
Come to think of it, the aura radiating from her had been anything but ordinary as well.
If the reason for it was that she served the Sword Saint's successor at his closest side, then everything fit.
I'm still short on clues. But it's more than enough to start digging.
Seizing upon Kelsey's theory, Elisha smiled in satisfaction and raised her teacup—
finding herself, somehow, with one person to keep a close eye on from the very first day of school.