Chapter 49
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Wilderness Festival
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Crash!
"Damn it... that bitch dares!"
In the pitch-black darkness where not even a speck of light could penetrate.
A man with a bandage wrapped around one arm kicked over a desk in a fit of rage.
"Keep still. It's not like your broken arm's going to magically reattach itself."
"It's not your problem, so you keep talking like... ugh..."
The man who had been snarling at his mocking companion grimaced from the throbbing pain in his arm and trailed off.
"We can't let this slide. I'll make that damn woman pay, no matter what!"
Bang!
The desk let out another scream, but all that came back were the cold sneers from the others lounging around the room.
"Ugh..."
"Idiot. That's why I told you to stay put."
"He's embarrassed, that's all."
Surrounded by his comrades' mocking laughter, the man could only groan.
Whether he finally realized that venting his temper only hurt himself more, who could say.
"Sit down already, Kellen."
The man's name was Kellen Ginier.
He was the very one whose arm Iris had snapped just a few hours ago.
"Since things have come to this, why don't we barge in on that bitch tonight?"
One of the shadowy figures spoke up from behind the still-seething Kellen, offering a suggestion.
At first, the others were about to snap at him for talking nonsense.
But after a moment's thought, they began nodding one by one.
"...Not a bad idea."
"It's decent. Dodging the dorm monitors isn't exactly hard anyway."
The only real issue was dorm rooms and roommates, but that was no big deal for them.
Bang!
"I'll kill that bitch for sure!"
Kellen shrieked like he was having another fit.
"Shut up already. You're not the only one here."
"...What? You bastard!"
When one of the men sitting nearby sneered at him, Kellen's face twisted even more viciously, his bloodshot eyes glaring daggers at the speaker.
The mood in the room chilled rapidly as they stared each other down, ready to lunge.
But no one there had any intention of stepping in.
They weren't the types to listen anyway, and besides, loyalty like that didn't exist among them.
This group was bound only by raw power and self-interest—like grains of sand.
"Cut it out, both of you."
From a spot a little removed, where he'd been silently watching them grab each other's collars on the verge of blows, one figure finally spoke up slowly.
"Looks like he's here."
Creeeak.
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the door—which had been firmly shut on rusty hinges—began to open.
A silhouette, backlit by the hallway light, cast a long shadow into the room.
"So noisy."
The low, calm male voice seemed to drop the room's temperature below freezing in an instant.
Kellen and the others whipped their heads toward the door.
"..."
Thud. Thud.
The man who stepped through scanned them indifferently before tossing out a single remark.
"Pathetic sight."
A simple phrase, devoid of emotion.
Just one word.
Yet that alone was enough to freeze everyone in the room, Kellen included.
And for good reason—they all knew exactly who he was, enough to make their teeth chatter.
His neatly swept-back golden hair, the haughty eyes typical of nobility.
And above all, the academy badge on his chest marked him as S-Class.
Lucian von Hellent.
Second son of the Hellent Marquisate and one of the elite in second-year S-Class.
True to his family's prestige, his skills kept him at the top of the second-years.
"Lu-Lucian, sir..."
"Lord Lucian has arrived!"
The ones who'd been growling like they wanted to devour each other moments ago now bowed politely to him as if nothing had happened.
Everyone stood, greeting him like a superior, and no one there minded a bit.
Lucian himself seemed to take it as his due.
"..."
Instead of words, he merely gave a curt nod after scanning them impassively.
They were all his classmates, so his arrogance might have irked them.
But they only bowed deeper.
The Hellent name was one thing, but Lucian's overwhelming power crushed any dissent.
"Lord Lucian, we've prepared your seat."
The one who'd first mediated the fight between the two guided him courteously to the head spot.
"Good."
Lucian nodded slightly and sank deep into the prepared chair, crossing his legs with effortless poise.
As if it had always been his throne.
His natural arrogance drew no objections.
He had the right to it.
It suited him.
Propping his chin, he fixed Kellen with a sidelong glare.
"Strange."
"...Lord Lucian? What do you mean?"
One standing by his side asked cautiously.
Lucian's index finger slowly pointed at Kellen's bandaged arm.
"What's that."
"...Pardon?"
"That arm."
"Th-that..."
At Lucian's low question, Kellen paled and stammered.
He knew he had to choose his words carefully now.
Admitting defeat to some first-year nobody in front of this devil of a man?
Who knew what fate awaited.
"...Uh."
He racked his brain desperately for a way out, but nothing came.
Lying about tripping wouldn't fool him.
"..."
Tap. Tap.
Lucian's fingers drummed rhythmically on the armrest.
His gaze grew icier as he awaited a response.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound squeezed Kellen's heart like a death knell countdown.
'Think. I have to think of something!'
Or he might really die.
"I-it's, uh, like this...!"
His tongue twisted, voice shaking—he knew it himself.
Then, the man standing behind Lucian stepped forward quietly.
"Lord Lucian. Marks from a fight with one of the new first-years."
"...A new student?"
One of Lucian's eyebrows arched with interest.
To him, everyone here was worthless trash not worth a thought.
Still, they had enough skill to enter the academy.
And the gap between years widened with time.
For one to get wrecked by a first-year—barely enrolled at that—piqued his curiosity.
"Name?"
"Iris Riel. Top of this year's entrants, they say."
"...Top entrant."
Chin in hand, he savored the word's odd ring, a twisted smile tugging at his lips as he muttered to himself.
"This year's freshmen have some interesting ones."
"Is that so?"
Not really seeking a reply, but he nodded lightly at the voice behind him.
"Yeah."
His eyes sparkled like a child with a new toy.
Then they turned cold as he looked back at Kellen, head bowed to the floor.
"Kellen."
"Y-yes! Lord Lucian!"
"Come here."
Lucian crooked a finger at him.
"...Y-yes?"
"Deaf? I said closer."
Crook. Crook.
The demeaning gesture—like calling a dog—left no room for refusal.
"..."
All Kellen could do was swallow hard, drag his trembling legs forward.
Each step felt like marching to the gallows.
"..."
Now before Lucian, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping from his chin.
He dared not meet those eyes, staring only at his own feet.
The heavy silence choked him.
The terror radiating from Lucian von Hellent was suffocating.
And worse—what thoughts brewed in the man staring at him now?
Just imagining it terrified him.
"Jesse."
Lucian called a name softly.
The shadow behind him stepped forward silently.
Expressionless, movements precise as a machine—this was the one who'd first intervened in Kellen's fight.
"Yes."
Lucian remained reclined, eyes closed now, as if done even glancing his way.
"Break his other arm."
"...Pardon?"
In that instant, Kellen doubted his ears.
If he hadn't misheard, Lucian had just ordered his remaining good arm snapped too.
"Lu-Lord Lucian! Pl-please forgive me! I swear it won't happen again! Please...!"
He collapsed to the floor, screaming, wracked with terror like a madman—pitiful, repulsive.
But Lucian's face showed not a flicker.
Just cold eyes, looking down like at an insect.
"Deal with it quickly."
"Yes."
"Hiiik!"
Jesse approached without hesitation.
Realizing no mercy was coming, Kellen scrambled back too late.
Jesse seized his good arm mercilessly.
"N-no! Sp-spare...!"
Crack!
"Gaaaaahhh!"
The gruesome snap filled the room with Kellen's agonized scream.
His limp arm dangled as he writhed on the floor— a horrific sight no one could bear to watch.
Yet no one dared look.
They just held their breath, eyes fixed on the floor in frozen fear.
"..."
Tap. Tap.
Lucian watched impassively, drumming his fingers again.
The rhythmic taps mingled grotesquely with the screams, but no one cared.
"Gahaaa... my arms, my arms...!"
He observed Kellen's wailing without a change in expression.
Like discarding a broken toy.
Utter indifference to another's pain.
That was the true nature of Lucian von Hellent.
As Kellen passed out from the agony, his screams fading, heavy silence blanketed the room again.
"The Wilderness Festival's soon, isn't it?"
"..."
As they all exchanged uneasy glances, Jesse replied steadily.
"Yes. In two weeks."
"Wilderness Festival..."
The annual spring event at Eldain Academy—and the time when security was laxest.
With festival management taking priority, oversight inevitably slipped.
'Perfect timing to hunt a rat who thinks she's a tiger.'
A venomous smile curled Lucian's lips.
Watching toys break was always fun.
Especially crushing those who dared irk him—that thrill was beyond words.
"We'll start then."