Class 13 (5): Bleber Is Not an Ungrateful Beast
Bleber was not an ungrateful beast. As the first princess of the Rabbit Kingdom and the next in line to become queen, she had been thoroughly educated in the conscience and humanity expected of all beastmen. A favor must be repaid. If someone helped you, you answered in kind, and any grudge was to be returned many times over. She had received the gift of her life. She had survived a threat that might have been a trap from the academy or a rival competitor. The illusion dungeon. It had not been an illusion. That was a genuine entity—a demon capable of threatening her life in that instant. Of course she could have won if she released her seal, but she had no desire to undo it.
Yet that golden sheep, Saphien, had protected her. She still did not understand how they had been assigned the same trial. The thought that he might have followed her had crossed her mind, but the illusion cave assigned trials at random, making pursuit impossible. Coincidence. Yet inevitable. Saphien had revealed his magic and felled the demonic beast in a single strike. Whether it was his finishing move or an ordinary attack, she could not tell, but that power was clearly among the highest even inside Class 13. Becoming friendly with him would not be a bad idea. After all, he was someone who had overcome that wretched Obelisk trial. Perhaps he had even passed a trial more powerful than her own. And as their conversation continued, he did not seem like a reckless brute. Since they did not know whose trap it might be, he stayed wary of both the dean and the instructors, while also using a rather expensive magic scroll so that Bleber would not be inconvenienced.
Excluding the blue dragon, among those who all seemed suspicious or utterly ordinary, he was the only one she could hold an intellectual conversation with. That was how she had felt. That was exactly how she had felt—until he opened his mouth.
“Are you in heat?”
“On your period?”
A double strike. At first she had endured the rudeness out of gratitude. The words that followed were logical enough that she even wondered if they might be true. After all, she was not in heat. So she could understand. Ah. I must have been tense the entire time. Nearly losing her life in the illusion cave had left her on edge. If she treated others in that state, sharp reactions were inevitable, and whoever had set the trap would surely notice. She needed to act with flexibility. Not with irritation, but with elegance—as though the real trap had been nothing more than an illusion—so that the one who laid it would grind their teeth in frustration. Having realized this, she had tolerated the rude question. It had not merely been rude; it was outright sexual harassment. Still, because he had saved her life, she endured it. Until he said the word “period.” Exactly as he wished, she swung her palm. She slapped his cheek hard enough to leave a vivid red mark.
After entering the classroom, she spent the time until the others arrived suppressing her irritation and fury, so distracted she could barely think. And then the question arose. Why had that sheep gone so far? He did not seem like someone who acted without reason. She soon learned the answer.
“Um, may I call you Princess?”
“...Just use my name. We’re in the same class, aren’t we? Right, Anelice?”
“Ah! You remembered my name!”
The moment she entered the room, the jellyfish beastman Anelice approached with friendly enthusiasm.
“Hmm, so names can be casual but speech cannot?”
“I never said that, spider.”
“...Hehehe, could it be you don’t know my name, Princess?”
“When you approach me with fangs already bared, what reason would I have to be friendly, Miss Zepi?”
“......No. I merely wondered whether someone as lowly as myself might not know. My apologies. Still, please understand if I continue to call you Princess? Otherwise I fear I might slip up. Hmph.”
When Anelice opened the conversation, the spider woman Zepi unexpectedly approached first and tried to sit beside her. It was not simply because they were both female beastmen.
Corvalt glanced at the seat Bleber had taken, then chose a spot by the window. It was not that he preferred the view; rather, it offered the clearest sight of the blackboard. One by one the others found their seats, and every single one of them chose a spot near Bleber.
“Hey. Move.”
The only one trying to claim Saphien’s seat was the killer whale.
“Get lost.”
“What?”
“If you wanted the seat so badly, you should have come early and taken it.”
Even when the killer whale started a fight, Saphien merely sneered and waved his hand dismissively.
“You little—!”
“Aaah, fighting inside the classroom is forbidden. If you really want to fight, beat me first and I’ll allow it~”
The killer whale raised her fist, but Anju’s half-hearted mediation from the lectern made her sit down irritably in the exact center of the very back row.
“Um, Bleber.”
The butterfly beastman Hane, seated directly behind her, asked cautiously.
“Did you fight with that golden sheep?”
“.......”
At the question Bleber realized something. Although she had turned toward the window to hide the slap mark, she was not covering it with her hand. Anyone looking at the glass could easily notice the red imprint.
“I-I thought the two of you already knew each other.”
What if she had not slapped him and had instead sat beside him?
“Like a bond that transcends species…!”
“...As if that were possible.”
That beastman. Had he predicted even this?
“We are meeting for the first time. He behaved rudely, so I simply moved my hand.”
“What exactly did he say…?”
“You do not need to know that much. If you are curious, ask the person himself.”
If not for that man’s strange consideration that was not consideration, would they all be approaching her like this?
“...How annoying.”
Bleber clenched her fist tightly and stared forward. Perhaps it was because of the earlier talk about her tail. The tail that kept catching on the back of the chair felt especially irritating today.
Thanks, Bleber.
Once a single class was formed, it was only natural for groups to gather around certain individuals.
We’re not even in high school anymore. The age of desperately needing friends is long gone.
I felt a little sorry for my new classmates, but I had no intention of building personal friendships or getting close to any of them. Every last one was someone I would have to use, someone I would have to defeat, and ultimately a competitor I would have to fight for the King’s Symbol. I could not afford to develop unnecessary affection and later think, Maybe I should hand it over after obtaining the Symbol, or You take it when given the chance. That was how it had to be.
I must not show them any warmth.
If there were any people I should show affection toward, they were the two who had granted me grace—Bastet and Silmarion. Aside from those two, unless someone saved my life or offered help on the level of handing over the King’s Symbol, I had zero intention of getting close. Thanks to that mindset, look at the result. Right now, aside from one person, no one had sat near me. And even that one person was just the arrogant killer whale who kept snapping, “Who the hell are you to sit there?”
Corvalt. Bleber. Anelice. Hane. Zepi. Lily. Sevius. Saphien. Orca. The lineup was complete. The path of the voluntary outcast.
“Aaah. Then I’ll explain things simply.”
Once everyone had settled, Anju stepped up to the lectern.
“You will be doing basically all of your studies inside this class. Except for a few mobile lessons, that is.”
“Eeeeh?!”
Orca reacted sharply.
“Then these seats…!”
“Well, wouldn’t it be fine to just keep them as they are? It’s not like there are assigned seats, and there’s no real need to swap around.”
“So it’s okay to come early and claim a seat?!”
“Uh, yeah, pretty much.”
At Orca’s loud outburst, Anju looked back and forth between me and the killer whale with an awkward expression.
“...Well, it shouldn’t be a problem. There are no designated seats, so just keep your personal writing tools and belongings in your bag. These desks don’t even have drawers you can store things in anyway.”
Just as Anju said, Cadelis Academy was not a high school. If anything, it was closer to a university. Although she had called herself the homeroom teacher, Anju felt more like a professor in charge.
“I have a question.”
“Yes? What is it, Corvalt?”
“Will we be studying with these individuals for the next three entire years?”
The wording sounded like something that should have been shouted with intense displeasure, yet Orca was clearly conscious of Corvalt as the speaker, and I was not immature enough to voice such thoughts myself.
“Why, do you have complaints?”
...The fact that Anju said it did not make her immature. There was a world of difference between a student saying it and an instructor saying it.
“It is not that I have complaints. ...No, complaints may indeed exist, depending on the academy’s direction.”
Corvalt rose from his seat.
“Nine out of three hundred. Divide the remaining two hundred and ninety-one into twelve classes and you get roughly twenty-four students per class. We must compete against them. Is that not correct?”
“Correct. How much do you already know?”
“To a certain extent.”
“Good. Then would our Blue Dragon successor care to explain? Why exactly nine people would have complaints.”
“...Understood.”
Corvalt turned away from Anju and swept his gaze across the entire class.
“The academy’s curriculum consists of twelve major subjects, with various detailed lectures besides. Over the three years a comprehensive evaluation will be conducted… and the King’s Symbol will be awarded according to the scores in these subjects.”
“Mm-hm, and? Keep going. You’re not wrong yet.”
“...While it is most important for each individual to earn their own score, I have heard that certain points are determined by overall class evaluation. I have even heard that in some subjects, if a single student falls overwhelmingly behind, the entire class receives a penalty.”
“What?!”
Anelice let out a startled shriek.
“W-what does that mean…?”
“Free riding,” Bleber answered.
“Even if eight people earn A+ in eleven subjects, if one person fails every single one, Class 13’s average may not reach A+.”
“T-that’s…!”
“What is this? They even intend to evaluate our ability to lead those without talent? Hehehe…”
“...It does seem unfair. As the Blue Dragon successor has stated, we number not twelve but nine.”
Complaints rose from every corner. I personally did not care, but the Orca sitting beside me kept her upper body still while her lower half—Ah, I’m screwed.—was shaking her leg like crazy. My seat selection was ruined.
“Yes. It is unfair. From the very beginning, Cadelis Academy is an unfair place.”
“!!”
When Anju spoke with a fierce grin, the entire classroom froze in an instant.
“How many beastmen exist in this world? Even among the twelve races there is a hierarchy of the four superior tribes, and among those outside the twelve races, distinctions are made according to where they live.”
The pressure was intense. If this had been killing intent, it would have been questionable coming from an instructor.
“Class 13 is the same. The other classes have twenty-four students? So what? As long as you all do well and produce good results, isn’t that enough?”
Before admission, both Bastet and Silmarion had told me the same thing. The academy was—
“A jungle. Survival of the fittest. Every beast for themselves.”
Exactly as those words suggested, this was a place where each individual had to survive on their own for three years.
“Admission is not the end. The nine may become twelve. However… keep in mind that the nine may also become one.”
Expulsion was possible.
“Well, for those assigned to Class 13 it should be different!”
...The leg shaking beside me made me wonder if she would manage to avoid expulsion.
“I have a question, Instructor.”
“Yes, Princess Bleber. What is it?”
“On what criteria were the assignments to Class 13 decided? I would appreciate it if you could tell us at least that much.”
“Class 13? Um, ah, yes. Class 13 is….”