The Truth of Class 13
One of the instructors at Cadelis Academy and the homeroom teacher for Class 1, the Dragonian Dragoonot, left the classroom and headed straight for the principal’s office. Was it because he disliked the class under his charge? No. Class 1 contained one member from each of the twelve beastman races who stood as the strongest candidates to inherit the King’s Symbol. Even though the rabbit, dragon, and one other race had sent their second-place prospects instead of the predicted frontrunners, those runners-up would still have been considered worthy successors had the top candidates been absent.
So why had Dragoonot arrived before the principal’s office door with his face burning crimson?
“Principal Lobo. I’m coming in.”
“Heh heh heh.”
At the chuckle drifting from inside, Dragoonot flung the door open, only to freeze in momentary confusion.
“What is it?”
Principal Lobo sat in his chair, surrounded by countless crystal orbs floating along the walls. Each orb displayed real-time footage of the academy’s classrooms, corridors, and special lecture halls. Students chatting at their desks. Others huddled in corners sharing secrets. And a few throwing punches in between.
“Principal, that is…”
“Magic deployed for security and evidence collection. Rest easy. Naturally, no such orbs exist in changing rooms, restrooms, or private dormitory quarters.”
“…Understood. Then I will ask my question.”
“Go on.”
“What exactly is Class 13?”
Dragoonot’s blunt demand made Principal Lobo lean back in his chair with a relaxed smile.
“Are you concerned about the Class 13 instructor? Because she defeated you?”
“It has nothing to do with Anju.”
“Is that so? I assumed you were still bothered by your loss.”
“Even if that woman may surpass me in raw strength, she is inferior when it comes to educating the next generation.”
Dragoonot’s already flushed face looked ready to explode, yet he quickly schooled his expression.
“Is Class 13 a problem class filled with uncontrollable students who require an exceptionally powerful instructor to keep them in line?”
“Hmm… why do you think that?”
“Please answer the question directly. Do not dodge it.”
“Tell me your thoughts, and I may consider answering.”
“…Because one of the four strongest students in the entire academy is in that class.”
Dragoonot ran a hand over the dragon horns atop his head.
“Not just anyone—the successor of the Blue Dragon. He has not yet undergone ‘Ascension,’ but the chance of him falling into an imugi is practically zero.”
“Blue Dragon Corvalt. The very fact that ‘Blue Dragon’ has become his title suggests the Dragon King’s Symbol is all but destined for him.”
“Was Class 13 created as a contingency for when such individuals lose control?”
“Who knows.”
“Principal!”
“While I did keep that possibility in mind…”
The Gias Oath. A heart-binding curse that brands the target the instant it is cast. Should the victim violate the prohibition, the brand explodes—bursting their heart.
Lobo snapped his fingers. The principal’s office door slammed shut with a heavy thud.
“Can you swear to keep this secret?”
“…Of course.”
“Even a Gias Oath?”
“!!”
Magic power rippled from Lobo’s upraised index finger. Navy-blue energy drew a perfect circle, then formed a geometric sigil at its center. The Gias Oath—an ancient curse created by humans a century ago to dominate beastmen.
“That would be…”
“Difficult, yes. Even for you. After all, this magic was forged by humans to enslave our kind.”
Lobo dispersed the power and pointed his index finger at his own mouth, extending his tongue. The wolf-like tongue bore hideous burn scars. Dragoonot squeezed his eyes shut at the gruesome sight.
“Are you prepared?”
“………”
“I see. I cannot tell you everything, but I will share one truth so you may treat the students of Class 13 as ordinary pupils while you teach them.”
This time Lobo raised his thumb. No magic flowed—only the thumb pointed skyward.
“Every student placed in Class 13 possesses at least one talent that vastly outstrips their peers.”
“!!”
“Of course, that talent is not necessarily one that favors inheriting the Twelve King’s Symbols. But they were not assigned to the number thirteen because they were inferior, nor were they gathered for some vague ‘special purpose.’”
“…Doesn’t that contradict itself? If each of them holds exceptional talent, how can there be no special meaning behind it?”
“Hmm.”
Lobo stroked his chin, eyes still fixed on Dragoonot’s horns.
“Telling you this will only bring trouble to Class 13… yet I will speak plainly regardless.”
“What…?”
“If you wish to know the unvarnished truth, steel yourself. Otherwise, ponder why only those particular students were assigned to Class 13 and seek the answer yourself.”
“……!!”
“Should this sound like an insult and you dare disadvantage Class 13 students through means beyond an instructor’s authority, I will exercise the full power of the principal’s office. Furthermore…”
Lobo gestured toward several crystal orbs that, unlike the others, displayed individual students rather than entire classrooms.
“I do not believe the students of Class 13 will be easily broken by you or anyone like you. Heh heh heh.”
“…I will take my leave.”
He had gained nothing. Instead, having only received humiliation, Instructor Dragoonot clenched his fists, offered a curt bow, and left the principal’s office.
Thud.
Once the door closed, Lobo snorted and shook his head.
“They call themselves beastmen, yet they still think like beasts. Don’t you agree?”
A figure slid out of the shadows near the wall.
“That is the norm. You and I are the abnormal ones.”
A blonde woman who looked almost human—save for her long, vertically slit pupils that marked her as a beastman.
“In any case, remember this. What he values most is the leader who will inherit the throne. We must choose one who will ‘guide civilization.’ Ensure no beast’s fangs or claws ever sink into that leader’s neck.”
“Of course. Heh heh heh.”
Lobo licked his lips as he scanned the faces of the Class 13 students, his gaze lingering especially on one young man.
“Obelisk Stage Thirteen. Many have been caught at that stage, but the first beastman to reach a level corresponding to Stage Thirteen was—”
“Bremen. The first revolutionary army.”
“Exactly. They are of the same caliber. Heh heh heh.”
Nine out of three hundred. Among them, Principal Lobo paid particular attention to one youth.
“…He may even surpass them.”
“Class 13 is… just Class 13!!”
Despite the meaningful tone, Anju’s loud declaration froze the classroom atmosphere solid.
“What? Why are you all looking at me like that?”
Instructor Anju ignored the students’ stares, waved her hand dismissively, and turned toward the blackboard.
“You are simply Class 13 students, no different from anyone else, and you are students of Cadelis Academy. You will compete for the King’s Symbol on equal footing with every other beastman. So let me make this clear right now.”
Bang! She slammed her palm against the blackboard and pointed outside.
“I refuse to watch the kids I’m responsible for fall behind anyone. Even if it kills you, every last one of you will obtain a King’s Symbol.”
“Ehh?!”
Annelis jumped in shock. It seemed she had already been appointed the official reaction handler for this class.
“A-all of us?!”
“Obviously. Annelis, didn’t you enroll specifically to claim a King’s Symbol?”
“W-well, that’s true, but…”
On her lap, Annelis’s fingers fidgeted. The gesture came partly from intimidation, but also from the unconscious habit of someone who possessed confidence yet refused to reveal her hand too early. For a marine beastman to have enrolled in this academy with such boldness meant she carried something uniquely solid within her.
“Good! Your spirit isn’t that impressive yet, but now that you’ve enrolled, we can temper it gradually. Annelis?”
“Yes, Instructor.”
“Annelis!!”
“Y-yes!! Instructor!!”
“Excellent! That energy is perfect!! You, in particular, will obtain two King’s Symbols by graduation. Understood?”
“What?!”
The statement was downright tyrannical, yet none of the students could refute Anju.
“That would be rather inconvenient, Instructor.”
“What exactly is inconvenient, Princess Bleber?”
“After I secure the rabbit tribe’s Symbol without fail, I was thinking of claiming three more while I’m at it.”
Bleber swept her gaze across the class, lingering especially on me with a pointed stare.
“Giving one to each of you is simply my consideration for my dear classmates.”
“How utterly absurd.”
Bleber had probably aimed her words at me, but the one who rose to the provocation was Corvalt.
“Who decided that you would receive the Rabbit’s Symbol?”
“Excuse me?”
“After this one claims both the Dragon’s Symbol and the Rabbit’s Symbol, I shall bestow the Rabbit’s Symbol upon you.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“I am perfectly sane.”
The dragon and the rabbit had begun their battle of pride. They glared at each other like rivals fighting for supremacy in the same territory.
The only problem was that while Corvalt directed his gaze solely at Bleber, Bleber kept sneaking glances at me.
“Hoo.”
Corvalt was not the type to miss the direction of those glances.
“Now that I think about it, I have not heard your opinion. Golden Sapiens Goat. What are your thoughts regarding the King’s Symbol?”
“………”
“If you refuse to speak, then I suppose there is nothing to be done. In that case—”
“Twelve.”
I quietly raised my hand, then thumped my fist against my own chest.
“If a man has decided to become king, he should at least be prepared to sweep up all twelve crowns instead of settling for just one.”