Dangerous Species: 3rd Years
Watching Jigoku actually level his gun at the upperclassmen, Zeallot let out a shriek that sounded half like a dying animal.
“You crazy bastard—! Stop this instant—! If you’ve heard even a shred of the rumors about how terrifying 3rd years are, you wouldn’t be pulling a stunt like this—!”
Rumor had it that 3rd years could turn passing students into hamsters with a flick of their wand.
Cross a 3rd year, and you would suffer an insomnia curse where lying on your back felt suffocating, turning onto your side cramped your neck and shoulders, and sleeping on your stomach pressed uncomfortably against your chest.
Steal a 3rd year’s seat in the cafeteria, and every bite of food you ever tasted would transform into raw cucumber.
Gift Academy was rife with urban legends of that sort regarding 3rd years.
And quite possibly, rather than mere ghost stories, most of them were horrifying true events—incidents that had really happened, might happen again, and that no one in their right mind ever wanted to experience firsthand.
“Scared?”
Not that a privateer pirate gave a damn.
“Hey, freshmen. Loud explosions have been echoing around this area for a while now, so clear out immediately.”
“Honestly, where do you get the nerve to engage in outdoor activities during mosquito swarm week in the first place?”
The 3rd years were, in their own way, completely dumbfounded. They were only handling quarantine sweeps and patrol chores because the professors had forced the grunt work onto them. Even if an epidemic swept through the Academy, the professors would stay perfectly safe through whatever secretive methods they hoarded. In the end, it was always the students who suffered.
Faithfully carrying out their patrol duties for the sake of their own safety—and to earn Points—the 3rd years were accustomed to seeing 2nd years occasionally stir up trouble. But seeing 1st years already caught up in a full-blown incident was unprecedented even for them.
“This year’s freshmen really have no fear. How in the world did they handle the mosquitoes... Gaaaah! What is that?! Why is that mosquito so fat?!”
Riding their staves down toward the ground, what caught the 3rd-year seniors’ eyes were gigantic mosquitoes that felt far larger than normal Giant Mosquitoes. Though monstrous and grotesque, the mosquitoes had originally been rather scrawny. But after gorging themselves on blood, their flesh had ballooned to the size of large hounds, proudly boasting spherical bodies taut as overinflated balloons.
Faced with mosquitoes that had drunk Dark Tonic and expanded outward with vigorous health, screaming was the only natural response.
And that was the problem.
Jigoku, who had been watching with a sullen scowl to see when they would land, flinched in surprise at the 3rd years’ loud shouts.
Bang!
With a sharp ping, a defensive ward shimmered above the 3rd year’s staff, deflecting the bullet.
“Y-You...!”
“A freshman just shot at a senior?!”
The upperclassmen stared in absolute disbelief. Jigoku sized them up, then blinked his eyes wide in feigned innocence.
“Oops.”
“‘Oops’?!?”
“Sorry.”
“‘Sorry’?!?”
An apology that lacked even a microscopic speck of sincerity!
At this rate, a full-blown brawl is going to break out with the 3rd years.
Hestia urgently stepped in to extinguish the flames like a desperate firefighter attempting damage control.
“My apologies, seniors! That kid suffers from habitual trigger-pulling syndrome, so he shoots at random intervals without warning. A few freshmen have taken bullets from him already.”
An excuse bizarre enough to render even the notoriously eccentric 3rd years speechless!
“With an issue like that, shouldn’t he be committed to an asylum instead of attending the Academy?”
“I’d literally rather die than live in their dorm.”
“Then again, everyone catches at least one mental illness while attending this academy anyway, right? Does it really matter?”
“Fair point.”
“Rude as he is, he’ll probably adapt just fine.”
The upperclassmen brushed it off with big-hearted magnanimity!
Which only made Hestia even more terrified. Just what kind of hell did you have to go through in your third year to shrug off a live firearm discharge like a minor everyday blunder?!
“You idiots!! Is this the time to be laughing?!”
The atmosphere abruptly pivoted as the one who appeared to be the leader of the Flying Green 3rd Years—a youth wearing a green scarf draped around his neck—barked fiercely at the others.
“W-What’s the matter?”
“Yeah, come on. We were just having a fun chat with the freshmen for once.”
“Those freshmen are the problem!”
There it is. I knew brushing off a shooting was too ridiculous to be true!
Unlike Hestia, who was confident in her martial prowess, Rosini and Zeallot were utterly terrified of 3rd years. Trembling like leaves, they stared pitifully at Hestia’s broad back. Surely a battle maiden possessed of insane strength, who could swing a two-handed battleaxe with one arm, would handle this somehow!
“Have you even stopped to consider how much blood those mosquitoes must have drained to swell up to that size?!”
“?”
“Gasp! Then don’t tell me... people were eaten?!”
“??”
“Damn it! Were we one step too late?!”
“Good gods. Just how many 1st years were devoured for that many mosquitoes to become so disgustingly obese they can’t even fly?!”
“???”
“Look at the color of the fountain. The water is dyed black—the demonic energy must be terrifyingly dense! They slaughtered so many that their experience bars capped out and triggered a mutation!”
“Those poor freshmen...”
“Step back, you two! We’ll handle this!”
Zeallot, still wedged in the bushes with only the tip of his spear poking out, gaped in sheer bafflement.
“Seniors... I think you’re misunderstanding something—”
“You need say no more!!!”
Icarus, the flight squadron leader heading the five-man formation of 3rd years, consoled Zeallot and the others in a voice ringing with resolute conviction.
“I understand your burning desire to avenge your fallen comrades, but this is a battlefield for us 3rd years to resolve!”
“He’s right! You freshmen should head quietly back to the lounge, wrap yourselves in blankets, sip hot cocoa, and nurse the agonizing grief of losing your fellow soldiers!”
The vice-leader, tasked with taking command mid-flight if anything happened to the leader, chimed in right beside him.
Left standing awkwardly after being branded as poor, traumatized freshmen trembling in terror over their lost friends, they watched as the seniors unleashed an onslaught of furious attacks upon the fountain.
Flash!
“What just flashed—”
KABOOM! BANG!
A bolt of lightning struck down, blasting chunks of stone straight out of the fountain. Zeallot, glancing at a stone fragment that had whizzed past his cheek, looked up to see a barrage of Magic Missiles deployed by the seniors descending upon the fountain like a carpet bombing.
“Aaaagh!”
“Watch out for the shrapnel!!”
“D-Do something, Hestia!!”
Rosini, who had expended every ounce of her mana pinning the mosquitoes under the water, screamed pathetically. Zeallot the magic spearman was struggling just to protect himself, and Echo the sharp-tongued bureaucrat-in-training wasn’t even in a combat class to begin with.
First I had to pull the weight of two people, and now it’s three?
Swinging her axe to deflect incoming debris, Hestia fought to shield both Rosini and Echo alongside herself. Yet even while she gritted her teeth and swung her weapon, only Jigoku—who had fired the preemptive shot from beneath the tree—smacked his lips in sheer disappointment.
“What gives? Why are these 3rd years so nice? Weren’t all 3rd years in this academy supposed to be raving lunatics?”
“Don’t let your guard down.”
While everyone else wondered if the rumors had been exaggerated and looked at the seniors in a new light, Orknodi was different. In a pirate’s line of work, one quickly learned to distinguish between a terrified sailor eager to surrender their cargo to save their skin, and a hardened mariner wound tight and itching for a brawl. The tension in Orknodi’s muscles, the weight behind her voice, the sharpness of her gaze and expression—every facet of her demeanor screamed of imminent combat.
Why is she so on guard?
Though puzzled, Jigoku never doubted Orknodi’s judgment. After all, he still remembered the crushing guilt he had felt over the disaster caused by his blunder during the magical beast storehouse incident. Taking a preemptive potshot at a 3rd year was nothing more than shooting at a dangerous species; he felt neither remorse nor regret for that.
But what if he hesitated, failed to trust Orknodi’s instincts, held his fire, and a catastrophe occurred? He would regret that bitterly. He would loathe himself for doubting Orknodi. He was utterly certain of it.
Bang! Bang!
So he fired at the senior who was approaching Orknodi amidst the chaos.
Ping! Ping—!
Emitting dull plinks, the bullets were once again deflected harmlessly by a protective ward. The senior glared furiously and raised his staff.
“You. I let the first two slide, but three strikes and you’re out. Pull that trigger one more time and I’ll roast you to a crisp!”
“Then keep your distance from Orknodi. Our kid happens to be extremely wary of you, senior.”
“I came to help you!”
The senior’s eyes locked onto the Blood Stone clutched in Orknodi’s hand.
“Hey, little girl, that’s a Blood Stone, right? That’s a hazardous item, so we seniors will dispose of it for you.”
“No! This stone is mine!”
“Us 3rd-year seniors are spending precious mana to help you out here, so you need to show some gratitude for our trouble. Don’t you think? We need something to show off that we helped, too. Otherwise, what are we supposed to tell the professors when they ask why we wasted mana that should’ve been saved for lectures?”
To Jigoku, listening from beneath the tree, the upperclassman’s logic sounded somewhat reasonable. But Orknodi pushed back fiercely.
“Stop lying! When you suffer mana exhaustion, your total mana capacity expands! If anything, the professors encourage students to burn through mana—they’d never stop you!”
Is that how it works?
Unfamiliar with the faculty’s sadistic teaching philosophies, Jigoku merely glanced back and forth, wondering whether he was clear to squeeze off another round.
At Orknodi’s stubborn defiance, the senior’s expression hardened, his tone shifting into something distinctly menacing.
“Tsk. What does a brat like you know? Hand it over while I’m asking nicely. You should listen to your seniors.”
“No! I won’t! Back off!”
“Guess words aren’t going to cut it. Time to teach you a little lesson. The more you resist, the more you’re gonna get hurt.”
Showing his true colors, the 3rd year began channeling crackling energy at the tip of his staff.
“Gyahahat! So I really can shoot him, right?!”
“Cover me, please!”
Unlike his earlier warning shots, Jigoku chambered a special round.
The senior had casually cast [Lightning Discharge] to suppress him, planning to smash the annoying pirate’s gun while he was off-balance and unable to aim. Instead, the senior’s eyes popped wide open.
Unlike a charging-type archer who stood motionless to stack [Careful Aim], [Charging], and [Aimed Shot] due to poor accuracy, Jigoku was a rapid-fire trigger-happy gunslinger who relied on [Rapid Fire] and [Mobile Shooting]. What was more, honed by countless real battles, his marksmanship was far from sloppy.
BANG! CRACK!
“Aaargh!”
Piercing clean through the barrier, the bullet struck home. The senior spasmed violently, slammed into a tree, and slumped unconscious, dangling awkwardly against the trunk.
An elemental countermeasure—bypassing an exclusionary barrier by matching its elemental property!
It was a response far too swift and precise for a 1st year to execute, and Jigoku puffed his chest out with immense self-satisfaction.
With a clutch play like that, Orknodi will definitely go, ‘Jigoku, you’re amazing!’, heap praise on me, rely on me, and cleanly forget about my screw-up last time, right?
Brimming with confidence, Jigoku turned toward Orknodi—only to find her eyes fixed elsewhere. Frowning, he traced her gaze.
There stood Squadron Leader Icarus and his flight formation, staring in dumbfounded shock at their comrade dangling unconscious from the tree.
“Oops. Do I gotta shoot all of them too?”