See? I Was Right, Orknodi

“I’m back,” Hestia announced to the empty silence of Room 112.

She hung her massive double-bitted greataxe on the wall rack and draped her heavy coat over the coat hanger. Unbuckling the stout leather belt at her waist, she slung it over the back of a chair, then stripped off her sweat-soaked training uniform and tossed it into the laundry hamper. Next came the weighted vest, laden with lead ingots so her body would never forget the crushing burden of full plate armor. It hit the floor with a dull, shuddering thud.

Crack.

A sharp pop from her shoulder blade made her frown. She peeled off the padded undergarment she wore beneath the vest to prevent chafing and tossed that into the hamper as well.

My chest feels tight today.

Standing in just her undergarments, she went through her cooldown stretches, methodically testing the range of motion in each joint before thoroughly working out the knots in the muscles around her shoulders. She didn’t forget to knead and massage her pectoral muscles, easing the tension built up from hours of violent swinging.

As she was finishing her post-training routine, a muffled sound came from the shared wall.

Tap, tap.

It was the signal Orknodi often gave whenever she was ready to talk.

“Sorry. I’m a little late today, aren’t I?” Hestia beamed, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her bed and leaning toward the wall.

“I waited for you,” came the muffled reply.

A soft, maternal smile spread across Hestia’s face. Hearing those words—I waited for you—felt just like coming home to a faithful little pet waiting eagerly by the door. Warmth blossomed in her chest.

“I was at the training grounds practicing weapon-breaking with my greataxe,” Hestia said, happily unloading the events of her day to relieve her stress. And just like always, Orknodi listened to every word without the slightest hint of annoyance. “I smashed twelve wooden weapons and three steel ones. The last one was an iron greatsword.”

“Amazing.”

“Right? Even among veteran mercenaries, hardly anyone was better at sundering gear than me. I was worried I might have gotten rusty after entering the academy, but I’m glad my body still remembers the knack.”

Just like riding a horse, once the technique of shattering an opponent’s weapon was carved into muscle memory, the body never truly forgot. Still, she added, “Even so, if you neglect it, you can lose the feel of it. That’s why you have to dedicate time to focused training every now and then.”

She chattered on about which lectures she had attended, which professors had taught them, and how thoroughly unimpressive some of the other students had been. After rambling on for quite a while, she happened to glance down at the magic timepiece strapped to her wrist.

“Look at the time already. You’re still small, Orknodi, so you need to get to bed early. We can finish talking tomorrow.”

“No. Play more.”

“Your big sister has to shower and get some sleep first. Muscles only grow when you give them proper rest after tearing them down. You go to sleep too, Orknodi.”

Tossing her undergarments into the basket, Hestia stepped into her private shower and let the cascading water wash over her. Fiddling with the temperature dial until she found the sweet spot—neither too hot nor too cold—she felt the day’s lingering exhaustion melt away from her limbs.

“Phew.”

She wiped a hand across ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the steam-fogged mirror, enjoying the crisp squeak against the glass. Reflected back was a formidable silhouette clad in sheer, dense muscle. Her thighs were as thick as an adult man’s waist, and her forearms were larger than most men’s heads. Standing nearly a hundred and ninety centimeters tall, with a physique honed into a lethal weapon, there was hardly a trace of conventional feminine beauty left on her frame. The only things that still marked her as a woman were the intimate parts she kept hidden from view.

Why am I having such weak thoughts?

Hestia ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cupped water in her hands and splashed it over her face. In her childhood, she had lived a soft, delicate life, and that very weakness had cost her everything—her hometown, her family, everyone she had ever loved. Hadn’t she sworn an oath back then? That she would never live weakly again.

Even as she drove her body through relentless training that stripped away every ounce of feminine softness, she had never once forgotten that vow.

If only I possessed a Mana Body Refining Method...

With that, she could have possessed both grace and overwhelming strength. But it was an empty dream. The Mana Body Refining Method was the exclusive privilege of noble bloodlines or the closely guarded secret of ancient martial clans. It was a treasure of the upper classes—something never permitted to a mere mercenary, never granted out of charity.

Hestia ground her teeth. She remembered all the noble estates and martial households she had approached in desperate pursuit of such techniques. The nobles had used her like a draft beast, dangling the false hope of instruction before tossing her a few measly coins and kicking her out, or sending her on suicide missions from which she was never meant to return. As for the supposed secret arts peddled by martial families, most turned out to be clumsy frauds.

Gift Academy is different. Here, they actually teach the skills students desire, passing down genuine, invaluable secrets.

Even though the term had only just begun, that much was obvious. Most of the curriculum was ruthlessly practical, yet through that crucible, students naturally absorbed the necessary theory, knowledge, and intuition. The theoretical coursework might be suffocatingly dense and brutally difficult, but the education itself was real. There were no haughty private tutors sneering down at paying students, nor any fraudsters covering their incompetence with hollow excuses.

Still... it makes me anxious.

Out in the wider world, Hestia had rarely met anyone stronger than herself. But within Gift Academy, brilliant prodigies from both the imperial core and the furthest frontiers gathered in droves. Back then, she had been confident she would only lose to the supreme leader of an entire faction. Here, opponents capable of putting her on edge appeared around every corridor corner.

The Upper Class was nothing less than a dragon’s pool and a tiger’s den—a lethal gathering of monstrous talents. There was Sing, the swordsman who bristled with murderous intent every time he looked her way, and Zhuang, the girl who smiled with narrowed eyes as though longing to see fresh blood. Both kept her guard up. But the one who weighed on her mind the most was Orknodi.

I want to protect her, but that’s not all of it. Is she really someone who needs my protection?

When Orknodi intercepted Lotto’s ambush, she had unmistakably employed a Mana Cultivation Technique. Hestia had known ever since she saw Orknodi unleash monstrous strength from those slender arms that the girl’s muscular compression was abnormal, but feeling the force of that blow firsthand had surpassed her wildest imagination.

“Orknodi, can I ask you one thing?” Hestia called out as she sat back down beside her bed, drying her skin with a towel.

“Past nine.”

The petulant, sullen reply brought a chuckle to Hestia’s lips. She hesitated, the question burning on her tongue. “That Mana Body Refining Method you learned... if it’s all right with you...”

She stopped herself. “...No, forget it. Pretend you didn't hear that.”

It was an improper request. Knowing the rumors that Orknodi had been raised as a noble house’s assassin, how could she casually ask for something so precious?

Feeling stifled and wanting some fresh air, Hestia threw on some clothes and stepped out into the hallway. Just then, she caught sight of a petite figure staggering down the corridor toward the dorms.

“Orknodi?”

“Not Orknodi.”

“Oh... Zhuang.”

Zhuang was roughly the same size as Orknodi, and right now, she looked utterly drained.

“Did you just finish a class?”

“Fifth period,” Zhuang muttered. “Took it together with Orknodi.”

Hestia froze. “That’s impossible. Orknodi was just talking with me.”

“She’s already back in her room? That can’t be right. I definitely walked back ahead of her.”

Zhuang tilted her head in confusion. Hearing her act as though the person Hestia had been speaking to wasn’t Orknodi at all, Hestia scoffed. “I was speaking to Orknodi right up until a moment ago.”

“I’m telling you, she was in the fifth-period lecture with me!”

“You’re not fooling me.”

“Why on earth would I lie to you?!”

The air between them soured instantly. Both girls stared at each other with deep discomfort. What is wrong with this girl / this brute? Why is she so dead set on claiming she was with Orknodi?

Hestia wondered if it was a prank, but Zhuang’s exhaustion and indignation were entirely genuine. She truly believed what she was saying. Hestia sensed it through her battle-honed mercenary instincts, while Zhuang recognized Hestia’s sincerity through an assassin’s trained reading of micro-expressions.

“We can just ask Orknodi and settle this,” Zhuang said.

“My thoughts exactly.”

Together, they marched over to Orknodi’s room and knocked.

Knock, knock.

A moment later, footsteps approached from down the corridor—and Orknodi came walking into view.

Zhuang’s face instantly twisted into a triumphant See? Told you so!

Hestia, on the other hand, turned as pale as if she had just seen a ghost.

What... What is going on?

Holy crap. Disaster!

“Orknodi! We were just in class together, right?” Zhuang demanded.

“That’s not true, is it, Orknodi?” Hestia pressed, her voice trembling. “You were talking to me from your room!”

Both of them were glaring at me, each stubbornly insisting that they had been with me just seconds ago. I pieced together what had happened in a heartbeat. Zhuang had attended fifth period with me, while Hestia had been conversing with the Answering Door in the wall between our rooms. And while they were arguing about it, I had walked right into them in the hallway.

If I agreed with Zhuang here, Hestia’s mental state was going to suffer catastrophic structural failure.

“I was talking with Hestia,” I said firmly.

“See?!” Hestia breathed a massive sigh of relief.

Conversely, Zhuang’s expression contorted into utter bewilderment. “Why are you telling such a bizarre lie?! We literally just came back from the Adventurer’s Night Operations lecture together!”

I mean, yeah, we did. But there’s no way in hell I can admit that right now! Hestia’s mind might completely snap!

“Wait, is there even a class like that in the fifth period?” I asked, blinking innocently.

“What?”

“I only have classes up to fourth period on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

And so, I blatantly lied. Zhuang went sheet-white, her voice dropping into a horrified mumble. “Then... the Orknodi who was sitting next to me in class... who the hell was that?!”

“Dunno~”

“Y-You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking! Look, you’re still wearing your outdoor clothes!” Zhuang lunged forward, clutching at my sleeve as if begging for it to be a prank.

“Is that true?” Hestia cut in, her mercenary intuition picking up on something odd. She pointed at me and asked, “Where were you coming from just now? It’s almost ten o'clock—curfew is in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a few minutes.”

“I really didn't attend any lecture!” I protested vigorously. “I was out preparing!”

“Preparing for what?”

Suddenly, the words of the Answering Door flashed through my mind.

It was a hidden piece that the desperately lonely Door had offered up as bait to lure players into keeping it company. If that starved-for-attention door had whispered that secret to me, there was a very high chance it had dropped the exact same hint to Hestia at least once.

“I was preparing to go to the second floor of the Main Building,” I declared.

Bullseye.

The moment the words left my mouth, Hestia’s face contorted with overwhelming guilt. “Have you... been going there every single day?”

“Yup!”

Ha! With this, I’ve got an ironclad excuse for why I was supposedly out, and I completely ducked the fifth-period lecture with Zhuang! God, I really am a genius!

While I puffed out my chest in solitary triumph, Hestia collapsed into profound self-loathing, clutching her head. “I’m utter trash... How could I leave Orknodi all alone...?”

Beside her, Zhuang was trembling like a malfunctioning automaton, muttering under her breath in pure terror: “A ghost? Seriously? An actual ghost...?!”