Unwavering Camaraderie
Mount practice for the Ironman Triathlon was in full swing.
Naturally, everyone coveted the inorganic golems—sturdy constructs that would conserve a rider’s stamina while eating up the ground with massive, tireless strides. The golems, however, were not about to grant access to their cockpits so easily.
“Hear me, lowly golem! Count it an honor and bow your head! For I, Horner Fried Chicken of the Fried Chicken House, one of the Empire’s Three Founding Noble Families, shall deign to become your master!”
A colossal fist of solid stone slammed downward, cutting Horner Fried Chicken’s haughty proclamation short with a thunderous crack.
As Horner dragged himself out of the fist-shaped crater in the dirt, blood trickling profusely from his forehead, the other students quickly revised their approach.
“O magnificent golem! I, Scholar, descendant of the Divine Archer and marksman of peerless renown, humbly beseech thee to become my companion! I pray thee, permit me entrance to thy cockpit!”
Scholar threw himself prostrate upon the turf, desperate to flatter the mount into submission. In response, the golem gave the earth a vicious kick.
Fwump!
A blinding storm of dirt erupted. Beyond the churning cloud of dust, Scholar could be seen spitting frantically, weeping tears of pure grit as he sprinted toward the nearest stream.
Neither threats nor groveling worked.
These were the unruly behemoths of the mount world—absolute masters of the pecking order who exercised their tyrannical power without restraint. Yet right beside these rampant stone titans sat Orknodi and Hestia, already comfortably perched atop their respective golems, blankly spectating the chaos unfolding below.
Catching sight of them, the Mesugaki Imperial Princess puffed her cheeks in outrage.
“Scrubs♡ Zero discernment♡ You don’t even know how to pick a superior master♡ Why are you being so violent toward us when you let those two climb aboard without a fuss?”
Even in anger, her voice carried that infuriatingly cute cadence. Hestia, completely unbothered, gave her an earnest answer.
“I’m raising a mini-golem, you see. That’s why the big ones accept me as a friend.”
Eager to show off their bond, Hestia fished the miniature golem out of her pocket and gave it a fond tap with her finger. Having wriggled its way into the open, the little stone creature swayed drunkenly as though struck by a falling pillar before tumbling flat onto her palm.
“Moo-oo-ooh.”
“Moo-ooh.”
Judging by how the adult golems fidgeted with uneasy lowing sounds, it was hard to tell whether they genuinely regarded her as a friend or were simply bowing in terror before a brazen child kidnapper.
“Then what about that shrimp over there~?” the princess chimed in, pointing up.
“I’m not a shrimp. Call me Orknodi!”
“Shrimp Orknodi.”
“Hmph! You should be kissing up to me, but instead you’re teasing me. You really think you’re getting an answer after that?”
The princess’s lips stuck out in a pout as she whined something from below, but Orknodi didn’t spare her another glance. Sensing its rider’s indifference, the golem casually swept a giant stone palm across the ground, swatting the Mesugaki Imperial Princess into the distance like a nuisance insect.
“...Did she die?” Hestia asked, peering over the edge.
“She’ll be fine. The Mesugaki Imperial Princess actually has quite impressive starting stats!”
“Stats?”
“Imperial royalty gets to eat an enormous variety of food, you know!”
Hestia was an NPC, so she naturally wouldn’t grasp the mechanics, but individuals hailing from ducal houses, royal courts, or imperial bloodlines never had to worry about their base vitality. Having grown up gorging on an extensive variety of delicacies, their Food Codex completion rates were inherently high, which in turn granted them colossal passive health bonuses. During the early game, no amount of grinding would allow a normal player to outmatch their baseline endurance.
If Orknodi told Hestia that the petite princess was technically healthier than her, the towering berserker would probably faint from shock.
While the upper-class students were busy fighting losing battles against the golems, an even greater catastrophe was brewing over by the paddocks.
“Heheh! Got myself a horse!”
“Dorothy! A mount like that is far too grand for a backwater bumpkin like you! Hand over the reins this instant!”
“Are you stupid? Let’s go, Rudolf! Ignore those morons and let’s take a lap!”
“Why, you little wrench—! Fine, get over here! You stupid ox, if you don’t want a whipping, chase her down right now! Move your hooves, or I’ll beat you black and blue!”
“Moo-ooh-ooh!”
Runaway horse riders fled in all directions while furious students gave chase on whatever beasts they had wrangled. It was a complete and utter circus.
“Oho! Look at those spirited young rascals. Here I was, planning pursuit and evasion drills for our next session, and they’ve already pushed ahead of the curriculum on their own initiative. Diligent to a fault. The headmaster wasn’t exaggerating when he called the 981st cohort truly exceptional.”
Professor Plato alone watched the madhouse unfold with a beam of boundless satisfaction.
Class drew to a close without any fatalities, though most students had failed to bring their mounts under even basic control. Many were left trailing behind wildly galloping horses by the reins or wrestling cheetahs into submission, utterly unable to finish the taming process.
“Whoa, Isabelle. What happened to you?”
Isabelle had suffered worse than most. Her uniform was so thoroughly drenched in thick slobber that she looked as though she had been hit point-blank by a slime grenade.
“I caught a giant hound, but the damn thing wouldn't stop licking me like a maniac.”
“Wait, you can ride dogs?” Son Ocheon asked, scratching his head. “Wasn’t that creature just helping herd the other animals?”
“It seemed clever, so I figured it’d be more practical. I didn’t account for this particular side effect, though.”
“Glad I steered clear of that beast,” the monkey beastman shuddered, living up to the old adage of natural enmity between dogs and monkeys. Then again, his own shoulder bore deep puncture marks from a set of heavy teeth.
“What did you pick, Son Ocheon?”
“A giraffe.”
“...Does a giraffe happen to consider monkeys an afternoon snack?”
“I don’t know. Don’t ask.”
Every single one of them could feel the impending dread hanging over the weeks ahead. If the headmaster’s flag assignment had been their baptism by fire upon entering the academy, Professor Plato’s Ironman Triathlon was the next lethal trial lurking on the horizon. In truth, it was the Upper Class’s direct equivalent to the Lower Class’s nightmare—the Mana Verification Test.
“Little lady,” Giselle murmured, stepping up. “Does your golem obey your commands smoothly?”
“Pretty well, yeah!”
“Remarkable. To my knowledge, golems are violently hostile toward any human who lacks registered ownership over them.”
Hestia had essentially taken a hostage to force compliance, but how on earth had Orknodi pulled it off? In response to Giselle’s curiosity, Orknodi smiled brightly.
“I’m not entirely sure why, but the moment I showed them my pocket, they started listening to everything I said!”
She pulled open her pouch to reveal a collection of crushed stones and jagged pebbles. Giselle stared at the contents, his sharp mind racing to piece the puzzle together.
Why would a golem be terrified of that?
Golems sustained their bodies and grew by consuming stone. Pebbles were, for all intents and purposes, crushed golem flesh. And here was a small, angelic child, casually carrying around pulverized fragments of their kind like battle trophies, proudly brandishing them before their faces.
‘...I believe I understand the reason, but keeping it to myself is probably for our little lady’s own good.’
Orknodi’s reputation had been plummeting with alarming speed as of late.
“She’s a child destined to become the Demon King.”
“Shouldn’t the Hero subjugate her right this second?”
“Those outskirt trash defending Orknodi are all in league with her.”
“Giselle, isn’t the only reason you’re shielding her because you’re aiming for the Dark Merchant class?”
“Birds of a feather flock together.”
“It’s only natural that creatures tainted by darkness would crawl together.”
Slander and venomous rumors swirled through the academy corridors like wildfire, and lately, the fallout had begun splashing over Giselle, Son Ocheon, and Isabelle as well.
“Why don’t you tuck your tails and crawl away from that sinister little brat while you still can?” sneered an imperial student who blocked their path. “Unless, of course, you’re eager to share in her ruin.”
“And what precisely do you hope to achieve by isolating our little lady?” Giselle asked smoothly, his narrow eyes gleaming.
“Isn’t it obvious? We’re nipping the disaster in the bud before a Demon King rises to threaten the Empire and all mankind! We’ll have her expelled from the academy, and an Imperial extermination decree will drop on her head the moment she steps through the gates!”
Without blinking, Giselle whipped a small cloth pouch straight at the boastful noble. Reacting on instinct, the imperial student drew his blade and sliced the flying pouch in two. A thick, rust-red powder erupted instantly, engulfing his face in a burning fog.
“Aaargh! What did you throw at me?! I can’t see! My eyes—my nose is on fire...!”
“Finely ground spices meant for high-heat cuisine,” Giselle replied serenely. “I find they work wonders on those who desperately need a taste of something fiery.”
“Y-You insolent curs! Do you think you’ll walk away from this unscathed?!”
“It is you who ought to tread lightly,” Giselle said, his voice dropping into a chilling register. “Any hostile act directed at Orknodi will be treated as an act of war against us all.”
“*Hack, wheeze!* Just you wait...!”
Screaming like petty henchmen, the imperial lackeys stumbled backward, clutching their streaming eyes before scrambling down the hall. Son Ocheon rubbed the back of his neck and scoffed.
“What kind of batshit school is this? Honestly, dropping out and holing up in the mountains sounds a hundred times safer.”
“And while you do that, those lunatics will continue to grow inside this madhouse,” Giselle countered calmly. “Have you considered what happens when those very same madmen graduate as fourth-years and are unleashed upon the continent?”
“Sweet mother of mercy. I can already picture the rocky peaks of my homeland getting pulverized into fine powder.”
If hostility was inevitable, fleeing was the worst possible choice. The only rational move was to remain, absorb every scrap of knowledge the academy offered, and amass greater strength than their enemies.
“The student just now was Tataya Chicken Makhani, a scion of Count Makhani’s renowned swordsmanship lineage,” Giselle explained. “Lurking behind him are Horner Fried Chicken, the Empire’s Three Founding Noble Families, and the Mesugaki Imperial Princess whom they serve.”
“So we’ve basically picked a fight with the entire Empire, huh?”
“If the prospect frightens you, feel free to step aside.”
“Ha! When a frail bookworm like you has the stones to challenge an empire, you think the mighty Son Ocheon is gonna tuck his tail and run?”
“Count me in too,” Isabelle said firmly, cracking her knuckles.
Their loyalty was unshakeable.
“Don’t leave us out!” a cheerful voice called.
“If there is anything you require, I shall lend my blade,” another added solemnly.
It was Dorothy and Rockfell. Having forged ties during the entrance exam, the pair had slipped over unnoticed to offer their support. Though they hadn't spoken today, classmates like Hestia, Jigoku, and Lotto—who shared the headmaster’s group project with Orknodi—would undoubtedly stand with them when the time came.
Orknodi was far from alone. For every enemy eager to see her fall, just as many steadfast allies stood at her side.
“When Orknodi becomes the Demon King, I’m calling dibs on Monster Legion Commander!” Dorothy declared proudly.
“…….”
While Dorothy’s motives leaned heavily toward the absurd, she was nonetheless a remarkably capable forest keeper for an apprentice.
“Could I trouble you to keep watch over Orknodi’s surroundings and alert us if any trouble arises?” Giselle asked.
“Leave it to me!”
Whenever Giselle’s schedule forced him away from Orknodi, he relied on Dorothy to shadow her and ensure her safety. With Rockfell—who remained desperate to atone for having betrayed her once before—sticking close as her escort, their combat readiness was more than sufficient.
Entrusting the task to Dorothy paid off immediately.
Barely half a day had passed before her report came through.
“It’s an emergency! You have to get over here right now!”
“What happened?”
“Orknodi is abusing a student!”
“...Pardon?”
“She set up a flaming hoop and is making a lower-class student jump through it!”
“...I haven’t the faintest idea what that could possibly mean, but I will be there immediately.”
Giselle cut the connection on his magic watch and swiftly folded up his merchant mat.
“An urgent matter requires my attention, so business concludes here for today. I ask for your understanding, gentlemen.”
“No! Wait! I haven’t bought my combat stimulants yet!”
“I haven’t traded my raffle tickets for the gear that has a twenty percent strength boost!”
The desperate lower-class students, with their lethal exams looming just around the corner, wailed in protest. But whether the underground merchant rushing off to aid the so-called Demon King would do anything to salvage her reputation remained an entirely different question.