Kalia Crisia is a Klutz
A northern gale roared in through the crumbled wall. The razor-sharp chill brushed against my damp cheeks, making my body shudder involuntarily.
“Eek!”
The sound that pierced the air in that split second was unmistakably feminine. But the only woman here was Kalia, who had just smashed through the wall. So who had screamed? The voice clearly belonged to a man well past puberty, deep and resonant. It was just that my brain refused to accept that it came from either Ron or Hans, who had let out a scream like a little girl.
But I'd heard those voices hammered into my ears for a whole week. My mind quickly identified the culprit: Hans.
He'd always shown a particularly girlish sensitivity even on the battlefield, and now here he was, displaying it again. A sidelong glance revealed Hans had turned his face away from Ron and me, clearly embarrassed. Ron's and my eyes met in the air. In that fleeting silence, we reached a silent agreement.
'Pretend we didn't hear Hans's scream.'
If Hans had been around our age, this would have been prime teasing material for life. But he was a grizzled veteran who'd seen it all. To preserve the last shreds of dignity for a grown man who'd earned his years, I graciously decided to let it slide.
Then a suspicion arose that I couldn't avoid in a romance fantasy novel. Is Hans gay? This is a ropan, after all... maybe? But he was older, and there was no vibe like that, so I shelved the thought for now. I averted my eyes from Hans, pretending I hadn't seen it.
Instead, I glared at the prime culprit who had obliterated the wall: Kalia.
“......What the hell are you doing right now?”
“I'm sorry, young master.”
Kalia hung her head like a criminal, lips sealed tight, as if she deeply regretted her mistake. Looking down at her pathetic crown, I let out a short sigh.
'Because it's Kalia.'
Her overwhelming martial prowess hid a fatal klutziness that had caused yet another unintended disaster.
“Lift your head.”
“......Are you forgiving me?”
As Kalia cautiously raised her head, her eyes trembled in a way unlike her usual stoicism. It softened my heart a bit. They say beauty gets you forgiven. Damn her for being so pretty. I steeled myself against her allure. A wrong was a wrong.
“Not just me—properly apologize to Hans and Ron too. Hans seemed the most shocked when the wall came down.”
To lighten the mood, I playfully pointed at Hans.
“Ahem. No, I wasn't startled at all.”
Hans refused to admit it, his pride not allowing it. I shrugged at the sight.
“Understood.”
Kalia turned her gaze to the two men.
“Sorry, both of you.”
Short and concise. Given their rank difference—like heaven and earth—she tossed out the casual apology without hesitation. Hans and Ron accepted the authoritative words as their due.
Witnessing scenes like this sometimes made the 'respect your elders' gene in me rebel. But rationally, it was pure workplace logic. Like a 24-year-old fast-track division head half-apologizing in casual speech to a lifelong middle manager nearing sixty.
'This world has a strict class system, after all.'
Thinking that way made it easier to accept. With a lighter heart, I surveyed our surroundings. Ron and Hans had already gathered their damp towels, clutching them protectively over their 'important areas.' Their determination to cover up despite shivering in the northern gale was touching.
I roughly dried my soaked body and wrapped a towel around myself. Even if Kalia and I had bathed together once before, I was still a person with shame. In that regard, the truly odd one was Kalia. From our first shared bath, she hadn't even thought to cover herself. Either she didn't see me as male at all, or she was hopelessly oblivious.
Kalia, so probably the latter.
But because she was Kalia, her true feelings were even harder to read. If she actually saw me as a 'man,' that would be a serious issue. I was still just a nine-year-old kid who hadn't even undergone the Ability Selection Ceremony.
Feeling lust toward me would make her a monstrous pedo walking the path of evil. That would cross from romance fantasy into criminal law territory. I glanced down at my small body, praying the webtoon author didn't have those tastes.
'Can I Seduce a Taken Man at the Academy?' is all-ages rated...
The title looked suspicious, but thankfully, this was an officially all-ages webtoon. Yeah, all-ages means they'd draw the line. No matter how provocative the title, they wouldn't let a plot with a nine-year-old kid go 'pedo'—the site wouldn't allow it.
'Though reality might differ.'
Still, that title was insanely predatory. I should've hit back after seeing the abbreviated 'AcademyTakenGuy' or whatever. But the art was so damn good... even a guy like me with zero interest got hooked.
“Young master, you'll catch a cold like that.”
While I was regretting reading this steamy-titled webtoon and picking nits like an ant, Kalia had strode right up to me, unconcerned about her uniform pants getting soaked.
As I looked up at her, Kalia suddenly reached out. Instinctively, influenced by my recent thoughts, I crossed my arms to guard my body in defense. Utterly pointless against a squire.
“I'm worried about your health, young master, so pardon me for a moment.”
Ignoring my defensive posture, she scooped up my nine-year-old frame effortlessly. The sudden lift and biting cold made me flail and yell.
“Wha—! What are you doing? Put me down!”
“Young master, you'll catch a cold.”
“It's colder because of you!”
Being hoisted up exposed my skin mercilessly to the frigid air, far worse than before. I kicked desperately, but her forearms were rock-hard. My struggles were just a bratty tantrum against her impassive strength.
At this point, my best option was one: surrender to Kalia.
'...Just swallow my pride.'
The decision didn't take long. I waved the white flag against the north's murderous chill. Body heat mattered more than ego. I stopped my pathetic resistance and burrowed into the warmth of her embrace.
Her bosom was warmer and softer than expected, but still not enough against the cold.
“Hurry, hurry up! I'm freezing to death!”
At my urging, Kalia just nodded silently and headed for the exit. Then she let out a short “Ah,” as if realizing something.
Still holding me, she shrugged off her uniform jacket like a magic trick and draped it over me. The heavy, warm fabric enveloped me, and I could finally breathe. But a surge of injustice welled up too.
“......If you'd done that from the start, I wouldn't have been cold!”
Kalia froze again at my grumble.
“Ah.”
Another dazed realization. This woman clearly had all her intelligence stats dumped into wall-smashing power. Unfazed by my reproach, she just carefully tucked the oversized jacket collar around me tighter, worried I'd still be cold.
Her rough sincerity in tending to me with that stoic face melted away my rising irritation like snow. Once more, I resolved myself.
Yeah, it's Kalia. From now on, in absurd situations like this, I'd just think, 'Klutz Kalia being Kalia again.' Her insane strength and hopeless airheadedness were an inseparable set menu.
“Young master, your expression is strange. Are you still cold?”
“......No, I'm fine now. Let's go.”
I buried my face in her shoulder and replied curtly. The northern gale still howled, but inside Kalia's jacket, it was surprisingly cozy and warm.
“Kalia, my clothes are over there.”
I pointed to the magical dryer. Glancing over, Ron's and Hans's clothes were already gone. Of course—they'd bolted from the bathhouse already. Traitors. The soldiers meant to protect their lord had ditched me. I'd get revenge later.
Kalia followed my finger with her gaze and let out another dazed “Ah.”
This one... yeah, she might not have thought of it. Let it slide. There were spare clothes in the barracks anyway. But hearing that signature blank “Ah” still inexplicably made my temples throb with rising heat.