The Unlucky Loli's Monthly Evaluation
The unlucky loli brat's monthly evaluation continued. Unlike the final exams that determined whether a student qualified to advance to a higher class, the monthly evaluation tested whether they deserved to remain in their current one. As a result, the standards weren't quite as brutal. Lower-year students with inconsistent skills sometimes washed out, but it was rare for proven upperclassmen to fail. Especially not the class president—the one who represented the entire grade.
"Gotrose. You're disqualified."
But this year broke the pattern. Both the fifth-year and seventh-year class presidents failed their monthly evaluations and were forced to resign. The fifth-year's failure could be overlooked with some leniency, but the seventh-year president's downfall was nothing short of a shockwave. The seventh-years were the academy's elite—only a few dozen of them existed in the entire institution, each recognized as the finest talents. For the one who stood above even them to fail something as routine as a monthly evaluation...
"Goddammit!! If I hadn't gotten greedy and gone dragon-hunting during the last evaluation!"
Class president Gotrose ground his teeth and roared in bitter frustration, but there was nothing to be done. His body was crippled by severe injuries sustained in that very hunt, leaving him unable to fulfill his duties. And so an unprecedented crisis erupted: the sudden resignation had left the entire seventh-year without a representative.
"There must be a class president. Seventh-year students, elect a new one immediately."
The headmaster's special decree went out to the entire year, and choosing a new president became the absolute top priority.
Three factions immediately set their sights on the opportunity.
The knights' faction—the Lions' Legion.
The mages' faction—the Truth Research Society.
The spirit users' faction—the Element Followers.
These were the academy's largest and most prestigious organizations, boasting long histories and traditions with members across every year. Because the class president could steer the entire grade's direction, which faction claimed the seat was no small matter.
"Gotrose, that muscle-brained knight, held the position for half a year. Now it's time for a mage to take the seat."
"Gotrose, that muscle-brained knight, held the position for half a year. Now it's time for a spirit user to take the seat."
"Like hell!! I should've kept it for at least another year! The president has to come from the knights no matter what!"
Each faction steeled their resolve for their own reasons and began maneuvering to claim the empty seat. Most seventh-years belonged to one of the three factions, so the question of who should become president was, in practice, the same as asking which faction's candidate should win.
"We'll hold a democratic election!"
The professors and headmaster ordered them to decide by vote. On the surface it seemed strangely progressive for the power-worshipping Steel Empire, but in truth it was the method that most favored the strong. Students would naturally vote for the most powerful faction, which meant the only way to win was to prove overwhelming strength and pull in voters.
"Let's settle this with a duel of champions."
The best way to demonstrate each faction's power was, naturally, combat. The three groups each selected their finest warrior to represent them. Since the entire student body would witness the duels, the winner would essentially sweep the votes and take the election.
"Haaap!"
As a result, the training halls were twice as crowded as usual. Students desperate to become their faction's champion were sharpening themselves to a razor's edge. At the same time, aggressive recruitment campaigns targeted the fresh seventh-years and the neutral students who hadn't joined any faction yet.
With only a few dozen students in the entire year, every single vote mattered. They needed to either pull people into their camp or at least lay the groundwork so they could secure those votes if a duel ended in a near draw.
"Asbel!! Rachel!! You two are real talents!! What do you say? Join the Lions' Legion! We'll back you with everything we've got! The difference between belonging to a faction and staying independent is massive! Join the Legion and cast your vote for us!"
In other words, the quiet days Asbel and Rachel had enjoyed as new seventh-years were officially over.
The first to visit was Gotrose himself, leader of the Lions' Legion. Even with his body still battered from hunting a lower dragon, he dragged himself over and passionately tried to persuade them.
"I'll go wherever Asbel goes," Rachel declared firmly.
"Sorry, but I have no intention of joining a faction yet," I replied.
Joining a faction would actually hinder my growth. Operating from outside gave me far more freedom, and my optimal development route avoided faction entanglements entirely.
"I see! If you change your mind, come find me anytime! The Lions' Legion will always have its doors open for you two!"
After Gotrose left, the next visitor was Rutrec, president of the Truth Research Society.
"I heard you've been attending mana sensitivity classes frequently. That sword floating behind your back is clearly a magical phenomenon powered by mana, correct? If you join us, we could research the phenomenon in greater depth and help you develop it further. Join our faction and lend us your vote."
Glasses, a gaunt frame, and a somewhat irritable expression—he was the very picture of a mage. Still, I shook my head.
"I'm sorry, but I already know exactly what I need to do to grow. I don't require a faction's assistance."
"A regrettable decision. Belonging to a group would be far more advantageous."
Rutrec left with visible disappointment.
Both the Lions' Legion and the Truth Research Society had made straightforward, ordinary overtures.
The Element Followers, however, were another story entirely.
One day—
"Asbel! Wanna have sex today?"
"...Please don't say that so loudly."
Someone knocked on my dorm door while I was going about my usual routine. I opened it curiously, then made the face of a man who knew exactly what fresh hell had arrived the moment I saw my visitor.
"You're late. This body has deigned to visit you personally, and this is how you greet me? Have you no idea how to treat a lady?"
Black dress. Pitch-black stockings. Black shoes, black hat, black gloves, and a black umbrella. The only white on her was her face—an odd-eyed girl staring up at me.
"You're not planning to keep me standing, are you? Escort me to the tea table. And I would appreciate a cup of black tea."
She extended her hand like a queen expecting an escort. My own hand trembled slightly as I took it.
This was Rusfontia de Hegel van Crowniness—the girl with the absurdly long name. She was the leader of the Element Followers, worshipped as their queen. To Karnadan players, however, she was known as that unlucky loli brat—JinxLoli for short.
She was one of the academy's undisputed strongest students, powerful enough to hold her own against professors. Her personality was every bit as haughty, picky, and downright unlucky as her strength suggested.
I instinctively realized that an extremely unpleasant stretch of time was about to begin.
"I'll be brief. Join the Element Followers. Both of you."
The petite gothic lolita, barely 145 centimeters tall, sipped her black tea with an air of absolute superiority. She drank the cup her maid had prepared with an expression that suggested she was bestowing an enormous honor upon it, then spoke as if granting a tremendous favor.
"And during the class president election, ensure you vote for our candidate. Do that, and I'll personally guide and mentor you both. It's an offer far beyond what you deserve."
Her arrogant tone made me break into a helpless smile.
It was surreal hearing JinxLoli's famous lines delivered in real life instead of through a monitor. The girl in front of me was one of the game's most iconic characters. Even someone like me, who had zero interest in romance routes, knew a few things about her.
She had a tragic past. And she was notoriously difficult to conquer.
I remembered seeing plenty of forum posts bragging about clearing her route. Something about "salvation-type pure love" and "taming the queen"—the usual nonsense that made the erotic players lose their minds. Since I never cared about the heroines, that was the extent of my knowledge.
"You're laughing? Do my words amuse you?"
The smile born from sheer fascination must have looked different to her. Her tone grew a little sharper, and I quickly shook my head.
"No, not at all. I'm sorry, Lady Rusfontia, but I'll have to decline your offer. I have no intention of joining any faction at this time."
She stared at me with open disbelief.
"I am offering to guide you personally. This is a generous proposal born from recognizing your talent."
"I understand that. However, as you can see, my ability involves controlling swords. Spirit techniques wouldn't be of much use to me. So... I'm sorry."
Rusfontia looked momentarily frustrated before taking another elegant sip of tea.
"In the class president election—who do you intend to vote for?"
"I'll be casting an abstention. It doesn't matter to me which faction produces the president."
"Think very carefully. This is not an opportunity that comes to just anyone. I am personally offering to guide you. Do you understand that all you need to do is vote for our candidate and I will look after both of you?"
She made the offer again, but my answer remained the same.
"I'm sorry, Lady Rusfontia."
"Is that so?"
Her voice now carried a distinct edge as she gazed at me. Despite her appearance as a tiny loli, an overwhelming aura radiated from her body—one that could crush my current specs in an instant if I were foolish enough to challenge her.
"You are the first to ever refuse me. How interesting. Tell me your name. I will remember it especially."
The arrogance in her voice was on another level from what I'd heard through speakers.
"Asbel. Asbel Lichtenauer."
"Asbel Lichtenauer..."
She rose from her seat and picked up her umbrella.
"I never extend my hand twice to someone who has rejected it once. You will regret today's refusal someday, Asbel Lichtenauer. I will make certain of it."
With those words, she turned haughtily and walked out the door.
After she left, Rachel picked up the teacup Rusfontia had abandoned, downed the remaining black tea in one go, and looked at me.
"It's delicious. Why did that woman come all the way here?"
"She wanted us to vote for the Element Followers' candidate in the class president election."
"They're picking a new president?"
"Yeah."
I glanced at the calendar. The public duel between the chosen champions was one week away. I had obtained the soft-sword skill Sonic Sword, and Rachel had unlocked Descent of the War God. This was the best setup I could manage at the current stage.
Which meant there was only one thing left for me to do.
Find out who is infected with the Fragment of Corruption.
Based on the original story, I suspected it was Darose—the main villain. He possessed exactly the kind of twisted personality that made him a perfect host. But this was Realistic difficulty. There was no guarantee the original plot would unfold the same way.
So I had to find them.
I need to locate them and stop it before they go berserk.
The moment a rampage broke out inside the academy and caused mass casualties, it would trigger the bad ending. I would die permanently.
To survive, I needed to move fast.