The Child Who Feared No Water
Professor Plato was more devoted to forging iron men than anyone alive.
A sound mind dwells in a sound body.
A sound mind conceives sound wisdom.
And upon sound wisdom rests a sound state.
The rootless maritime realm of the Florence Kingdom desperately needed iron men of true substance—and as an ardent patriot, Professor Plato may have discarded his mortal flesh and blood for cold metal, but he could never abandon his patriotism.
‘These Upper Class freshmen of the 981st cohort have surprisingly good grit.’
Even compared to the 980th batch just one year above them, the difference in caliber was night and day. Above all else, there was Ishtar, the Hero chosen by the Sole God, Sophemia of the Sun. Her very enrollment had spurred the aristocratic houses of the Empire to funnel every ounce of young talent into the exact same class.
‘Companions to the Hero. Confidants to the Hero. They sent their most prized heirs hoping to claim those very seats.’
The Empire’s Three Founding Noble Families had fielded their absolute finest: Horner Fried Chicken of the Fried Chicken Ducal House; Cheddar Potato Pizza of the Potato Pizza Ducal House; and Leff Iron-Plate Charcoal Galbi of the Iron-Plate Charcoal Galbi Ducal House.
Where they would ordinarily send collateral kin or adopted spares, the three great houses had deployed their legitimate successors—the most promising, orthodox, and brilliantly capable scions groomed to shoulder the next generation. Naturally, other noble houses reading the political winds followed suit with their own top prodigies, and famous talents from across the world’s far frontiers flocked into the 981st cohort in turn.
‘Pretend as they might, every last one of them is just eyeing that girl, Ishtar. Bringing a female Hero into one’s bloodline would catapult any family’s standing into the stratosphere.’
If sparks flew and an accidental child resulted, they would welcome it with open arms. Who in their right mind would dare oppose a marriage undertaken to take responsibility for the Hero and her child, risking the divine wrath of the chosen savior?
Moreover, this generation’s Hero did not yet possess an arch-nemesis. It was an age of peace, an era free from continental warfare. That the enemy had yet to materialize meant the Hero had ample time to cultivate her strength. That was precisely why she had enrolled in Gift Academy, the world's foremost educational institution. Behind that decision lay the cold calculation of recruiting the finest talents on the continent to join the Hero Party.
To put it bluntly, if the Hero shouted, “You! Become my companion!” that student held a certified golden ticket to prestige and glory endorsed by Ishtar herself.
Small wonder everyone was putting on airs, desperately trying to show off their swimming form near Ishtar, while those who couldn’t swim were frantically paddling with fire in their eyes.
‘Their focus is commendable, but such impure motives leave a sour taste in my mouth.’
Of course, a rare few harbored zero interest in becoming the Hero’s companion or husband. The most prominent example from the Empire was the Second Imperial Princess, Mesgaki.
“Aha! Are you part hippo or something? You’re guzzling way too much water! Gulp♥ Gulp♥ Gulp-gulp-gulp♥ Just how much do you plan on drinking~? Scrub followers! You suck so bad at swimming—!”
“Ngh… F-Forgive me, gulp, splutter!”
“Please be patient, Your Highness! Before this lecture ends, ngh, I will master freestyle and prove useful even underwater!”
“Pfft~ I can’t wait until class ends! Take that, and that!”
“Aaaargh! I’m sinking, I’m sink—glub-glub!”
“Ahaha! You’re sinking just because your Princess climbed onto your back~? Savor the once-in-a-lifetime honor of serving as my aquatic throne~!”
Even Professor Plato, whose sadistic streak was second to none, found himself wondering if this was normal. The Second Princess was thoroughly immersed in tormenting her followers. Although those abused sycophants were blushing with twisted delight, every single one of them was already marked for remedial training. They possessed basic athletic reflexes and were picking up the movements, but they were still light-years away from a level of swimming that would satisfy him.
“Guh… The Princess’s aquatic throne has turned into an underwater throne…! Glub!”
…Well, if they didn’t want to drown, they would adapt fast enough on their own.
‘As for the outskirts, the Western Aristocratic Alliance seems to be leading the charge.’
Irene, daughter of the Northern Grand Duke, whose reflex was to freeze everything in sight, possessed miserable swimming skills. She was currently clinging to a kickboard, learning to flutter-kick from scratch.
“Why am I… subjecting myself to this…?”
Bubble, bubble.
Her mouth, submerged halfway beneath the surface, expelled air bubbles instead of complaints.
“?”
Bubble, bubble.
“!”
Blub-blub-blub.
As if she had completely forgotten her earlier grumbling that swimming was child’s play, she was now thoroughly enjoying herself. Watching a stoic, mature kuudere beauty display such unexpected childishness was amusing, but at this rate, remedial training was an absolute certainty for her as well.
“There, see? This is how you swim! Do you finally understand how incredible I, Arcadia, truly am?”
“Nyaaa! Amazing-nya!”
“And how, pray tell, does one swim while wearing full plate armor?”
“A method? I just showed you everything! Can’t you just watch and copy me?”
“…You’re obnoxious-nya!”
“…I hardly believe an underwater dolphin kick is something one can replicate merely by watching.”
Compared to Irene at the absolute novice tier, Arcadia moved with leisurely grace, executing dolphin kicks and side strokes as she drifted effortlessly through the water. While Plato appreciated her willingness to guide struggling cadets, her teaching method scored a flat zero.
‘And that leaves the last group.’
By all rights, they should have been the first to drop out of the Upper Class. It was a mystery how they had even qualified in the first place—the most eccentric assortment of personalities in the academy.
Giselle, Son Ocheon, and Isabelle.
Dorothy and Rockfell.
Jigoku, Hestia, and even Lotto.
Diverse in membership and wildly eclectic in composition: the Orknodi faction.
“Kicking up water is surprisingly entertaining,” Giselle remarked smoothly. “After all, it is quite rare for me to outpace someone of Mr. Son Ocheon’s physical caliber.”
“Bwahaha! My brains might be mush, but when it comes to muscle, I’m a genius! A little swimming is nothing I can’t master in five minutes!”
Splash! Splooosh!
“…Hey, could you stop firing water cannons with your feet?” Dorothy complained. “Swimming isn’t about violently smashing the water like a brute!”
“Bwahaha! Can’t hear you over the sound of weakling splashes!”
“……”
Son Ocheon churned the pool like an artillery battery, sending drenching deluges crashing down on Dorothy, Rockfell, and Lotto, who screeched in indignation behind him.
“Aaaah! The waves keep coming, I’m swallowing gallons of water, and I feel like dying!”
“It cannot be helped,” Rockfell muttered grimly. “Our expertise lies within the forest. Even for me, the swordsman known as the Swift Blade, this trial proves overwhelmingly arduous…”
“I don’t care about any of that! Can someone just deal with that brainless monkey first?!”
Just as Son Ocheon was venting his swimming frustration by tormenting his peers with geysers, a monstrous wall of water crashed over his head. Hestia, whose leg muscles rivaled his own, grinned ferociously as she flexed her thighs.
“Then you should be able to hear my voice just fine.”
“You little punk! You asked for it!”
Swimming was promptly abandoned as the two descended into a full-blown water artillery brawl.
Amidst the chaotic bedlam of bumbling novices, only a single student remained steadily focused on crossing the river: Orknodi. Yet her pace was anything but normal.
‘What is with that child? Why is she swimming better than a trigger-happy pirate or a ducal princess of Florence?’
Jigoku was a pirate.
Her specialty was shooting guns.
Her favorite pastime was shooting guns.
The only skill she knew was shooting guns.
And this woman, utterly obsessed with pulling the trigger, harbored a weakness no one would ever suspect.
“Aren’t you going to swim, Jigoku?”
“Pass. I hate water.”
“…Didn't you say you're a pirate?”
Having concluded her aquatic duel with Son Ocheon, Hestia gave her a baffled look. Jigoku answered without a shred of shame.
“Gyahaha! If you shoot dead every enemy in sight, you never fall overboard! Why bother learning to swim?”
“…A delightfully trashy answer.”
Naturally, it was a lie. While it was true that shooting enemies preemptively kept one out of the water, she simply chose violence because she disliked swimming—not because she lacked the skill.
‘Besides, I’m in male disguise. Jumping into the water will outline my figure, and swimming with clothes on feels soggy and gross.’
Even if she weren't disguised as a man, she had no desire to partake in such pointless exertion.
Whoooosh! Swiiiish!
The moment anyone crossed the river's midpoint, artificial waves churned. By the three-quarter mark, the currents surged so violently that one genuinely wondered if drowning was on the curriculum. A professor wicked enough to mount automatons onto enchanted washbasins just to bar students from crossing was monstrous, but Orknodi’s stubborn tenacity in breaking through was equally astonishing.
“It’s not like I can put a bullet through the professor’s skull, so why bust your guts trying to punch through endless waves? You’ll just drain your stamina.”
Wouldn't it be faster to learn calming magic than to swim across this mess? While the female Hero was seriously pondering that dilemma and struggling against the current, Orknodi’s head suddenly popped up on the opposite riverbank.
“First place arrival!”
A stunned Jigoku immediately dashed over.
“How did you pull that off? You failed the breakthrough several times earlier! You should have run out of steam, so how did you cross?”
“That only applies to the surface,” Orknodi replied cheerfully. “Underwater, it actually speeds you up! The current was circulating clockwise.”
“Wait, but wouldn't you have to dive all the way to the riverbed for that?!”
“Yup!”
“You held your breath, sank all the way to the bottom, and rode the undercurrent all the way up? How is that even possible?!”
Orknodi offered a bright, beaming smile.
“It just worked, you know?”
“…Weren't you scared of drowning?”
“Is there any particular reason I should be?”
She had heard rumors that this child received assassin conditioning, but had they subjected her to aquatic survival training as well? Orknodi had just pulled off an insane feat that left even an experienced pirate aghast, yet the girl herself showed zero awareness that she had brushed against death. Unless she was utterly ignorant, the only explanation was that past experience had taught her such lethal danger was simply routine.
‘Considering how versatile she is in every field, these aren't skills acquired through patient, gradual study.’
They could only be the result of high-pressure, short-term conditioning where survival on the battlefield was the only passing grade. How many children had been thrown into such hellish drills, and how many had died along the way? Just imagining it made Jigoku’s head spin.
“Mr. Jigoku? Is there something on my face?”
Having endured hellish days as a galley slave subjected to water torture, Jigoku understood all too well. The sheer terror and agony of being forced into deep water against one’s will was beyond human imagination.
“Mr. Ji~ go~ ku~~?”
“…No. It’s nothing.”
Yet how in the world can you stand there with such an innocent smile, Orknodi?