The Induction Period (5)

The knights finishing their morning jog were all due to fall swiftly into formation at Mark's summons.

But with only a sliver of rest time remaining, a probationary knight singled me out and called me to a halt.

"Trainee Karsein. Explain yourself. Why did you commit such an act?"

The reason? Obvious.

Because these had popped up.

The Insubordination Route.

It was a route that played out within the episode whenever Karsein, having entered as a mere trainee, clashed with the knights. The conditions were simple: you could just pick one of the given choices, or — as I was doing now — go out of your way to pick a fight with someone you could easily have avoided.

Ordinarily, it was a route no one touched. If word spread through the knight order that he had openly taken the bait and brawled, the damage to Karsein would be obvious. It was the very same reason I had ignored, or met with silence, every choice that popped up during sentry rotations.

But right now, this is a situation where it's actually useful.

I slid my gaze sideways and caught sight of apprentice knight Bruce, sneering as if he owned the place. Keeping my attention stance toward the probationary knight, I declared, without a shred of shame:

"Because my belongings were taken from me."

"Your belongings were taken?"

"Yes, sir. A towel my family gave me. He made off with it on the spot."

At that, Bruce shouted as if he'd been waiting for exactly this moment.

"I did not steal anything! This was merely a measure in service of a fair induction trial. Grant me the right to speak!"

"Fine. Explain yourself, Bruce."

"Karsein, as of this moment, does not qualify to be judged fairly during the induction period. He is receiving support from outside — and that towel was one piece of it."

"Hmm. Continue."

Giddy at the thought of screwing me over, he pressed on in an excited voice. A choice did pop up — Objection, Your Honor! — offering to cut in mid-speech, but I didn't use it.

"Going by Bruce's account, Karsein, you've committed insubordination. You talked back to an apprentice knight as a mere trainee, so you'll pay the price for that."

I won't be reporting it separately to my superiors, but the price will be fairly heavy all the same.

A pity, but well — things were going more or less the way I wanted.

"Rebut me if you can. But if you'll accept it quietly and show a repentant attitude, then take your disciplinary punishment here and now."

This was how the Insubordination Route ended: with Karsein taking his lumps. It didn't heavily affect the episode, but Perception within the order dropped, along with a slight dip in Intimacy.

In any scenario, not picking this was the perfectly sane choice.

But there was exactly one thing.

There is always an exception.

"Karsein, receiving disciplinary punishment? What nonsense is this?"

"L-Lady Arina?"

When I knew family would be coming, this could be turned to excellent use.

Why, with Intimacy raised, would I suddenly pick the worst possible choice in front of Arina, who had come all the way to the Training Grounds?

Why did I stand my ground against that bastard Bruce's provocation?

Why, knowing full well the Insubordination Route would trigger, did I plant him into the dirt with a hip throw?

All for the same reason.

"He's done nothing deserving of punishment. A family's support is only natural — and all it does during the induction period is keep Karsein's condition in order. It holds no power to skew his evaluation. Am I wrong?"

Because I knew Arina would come back. So I had laid the groundwork and waited.

If Isabella or Claire had been the ones to visit, I could have at least offered excuses — the women of the family wouldn't know the detailed inner workings of the knight order, after all.

But if it was Arina, the story changed.

Why else had she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠personally barred Karsein from setting foot here? Why had Isabella let that stand without a word? Not because she was the duchy's eldest daughter — but because she herself had trained in this very knight order before.

With Arina present, the insubordination fuss was dead on the spot. The right to speak returned to me, and I laid out everything that had happened at the water station, leaving nothing out.

The knights' expressions hardened.

"Bruce. You...!"

What came after was obvious. Bruce, a mere apprentice knight, could no longer escalate things against me, and even those who'd wanted to pin the blame on me couldn't run their mouths carelessly anymore.

But I had gained my justification. The right to say it straight — to Arina herself.

To my eldest, who had hushed the knights and bitten back her words, I asked, rather bluntly:

"Do you get it now? What a single towel set in motion?"

Think of it as a reinforced version of the [ Now do you understand? ] choice — delivering the word she'd once thrown at me, favoritism, in a way she couldn't possibly mishear.

"This is what it means when I say you could make things harder for me. I'm not picking fights for nothing."

"..."

"So don't trouble yourself over me. That would honestly suit me better."

Telling Mark about this would cause problems. Scolding Bruce further, right here, would cause problems too. So I drove the nail in firm: don't get involved at all.

Fortunately, she seemed to know her own fault, because she didn't argue back. But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠perhaps she had one thing she absolutely needed to say — after a long silence, she turned away and spoke.

"...This time, I never doubted you. Know that much."

The red ponytail swayed again. This time her steps carried no force, no roughness, so it didn't whip about wildly. Which meant her anger had drained away — much like the message that appeared next.

"Never doubted me," huh.

I gave a short laugh and denied it outright.

"Honestly? I'd rather you doubted me."

That eldest woman had always been like this, back then too. Whenever she "looked out for me," something inevitably blew up — to the point where a slap across the face and a mouthful of venom would have been preferable.

Arina was the same. Help like this was far more of a problem. It only swelled the mess, and her thoughtless actions came back to me as fresh fuel for the fire. If that was how it would go, I'd rather she paid me no attention at all.

That was my honest feeling toward that eldest woman.

"Hips higher. Seems you think laying hands on Lady Arina's belongings is a light offense?"

"No, sir!"

"Then hold that position properly."

"Ghhk — yes, sir!"

When I tore my gaze from the back of Arina's silently retreating head, I spotted Bruce over on one side, receiving his hazing. There was a rank gap between trainee and apprentice knight, so calling it insubordination was a stretch — but having laid hands on another man's property, even without knowing whose, was reason enough for punishment. And the fact that it happened to be Arina's carried enormous weight.

Thanks to that, Bruce had ended up wearing the very crime he'd tried to pin on me.

"..."

He was glaring sidelong at me, face flushed dark with blood. Like the punks I'd seen back at school — the eyes of someone swearing to get proper revenge someday.

When it came to needling someone at a moment like this, nothing beat the youngest brat. I flashed him a little smirk, and the veins stood out taut on his neck.

That's right. Angry, aren't you? Go on, let it pile up. The more he seethes, the more recklessly he'll move.

A deeply satisfying result on both fronts.

That commoner bastard...!

When he'd heard the name of the newly arrived trainee — Karsein — Bruce had approached without the slightest reservation.

A commoner, wasn't he? Unless some highborn noble young master had enrolled as a trainee alongside him, there was nothing to fear. More than fear, in truth, it was resentment: the fact that a beggar scooped up off the street would, once the induction ended, become an apprentice knight — his equal.

So he'd meant to put a scare into the man and secure some leverage while he was at it. That was how he'd done it himself, after all.

Oh. They do say even a rotten mackerel is still a mackerel. Adopted or not, they've provided for him plenty, haven't they?

Meeting Karsein in person, the man's equipment looked positively lavish. His mouth watered. The plan had been to wave the accusation of cheating in his face, cow him early under the pretext of a fair induction trial — and if he lifted an item or two along ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the way, well, surely the man would cower once he learned that was simply how things worked inside the order.

But...

Contrary to expectations, Karsein didn't cower.

No. Worse than not cowering, he'd lulled Bruce into letting his guard down. So he'd meant to teach the man a proper lesson — by invoking the pecking order that ruled the knight order.

Then the unexpected happened.

Arina Bagrand's intervention had been a surprise, but Bruce had still figured it wouldn't matter — who in their right mind would refuse to trust her testimony?

"Shouldn't we finally put an end to such vile customs?"

With the eldest lady standing squarely behind Karsein, Bruce's bluster collapsed into rank fabrication.

"Fuck."

Bruce spat the curse, having just endured a long stretch of disciplinary punishment under a senior knight's orders. Deep and shallow impressions stood out across both palms that had braced against the gravel. It wasn't just the gouges — sharp stones had ground into his skin for so long that bruises had welled beneath. Even now, a raw, stinging ache throbbed through Bruce's hands.

But Bruce had no time to even register the pain. His trials were far from over.

"Sigh. To think I'll be an apprentice knight alongside that."

"Embarrassing as hell. And you call yourself a knight, huh?"

"Losing to a nobody who isn't even a proper recruit. Wow..."

The jeers came from his fellow apprentices. Bruce ground his teeth and roared.

"Shut the hell up! You fucking bastards are a lower class than me — who said you could open your mouths?"

Within the order, class seniority held enormous power. Skill aside, everyone standing before him right now belonged to a lower class.

"You'll pay for running your mouths, the moment we're back at the barracks—!"

"Then I get to say it to you, right? Seeing as my class is above yours."

"G-Gareth..."

The words had barely left his mouth when a senior appeared. He belonged to a different squad of apprentices, but under the same order, he was not a man Bruce could talk back to.

"You got lucky — got picked out and placed in a class crawling with juniors — so why are you flapping your gums? You're in no position to say a damn word to them."

"..."

"And if you're going to act big, don't get flattened first. Heard it from the trainee himself — you picked the fight, got thrown flat on your back, then went whining to Sir Theo like a little kid."

"No, that was because I let my guard down—!"

"Shut it. You lost to a commoner who can't even do rotations properly. Guard down, my ass — isn't that just your level? You goof off every chance you get, half-ass your training, and haven't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grown one bit. Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later, you idiot."

Gareth's bone-deep critique left Bruce with nothing to say. And with juniors whose induction periods were barely a hair different from his own laughing and sneering at him freely, his fists trembled all on their own.

Once Gareth confirmed the man had been reduced to a snickering laughingstock, he assigned Bruce his next destination.

"Your senior's calling for you. Go find him, you moron."

"...Your senior? Don't tell me—"

"Tsk tsk. Looks like you're paying for that tattling too, huh?"

Gareth jeered, smacked Bruce on the shoulder, and walked past. The juniors kept snickering as well — apparently they didn't regard him as a proper senior either.

Oh no. No, no. If he's calling for me specifically, that means...

Damn it all.

Bruce muttered it under a breath no one could hear, then set off — scowling every step of the way — toward the place where the probationary knight who'd summoned him waited.

Before long, Bruce arrived at their usual meeting spot. And at once, a jeering voice reached his ears.

"You made it, huh?"

"...I heard you called for me."

Confirming Bruce's arrival, the man walked over — slow, deliberate steps — to the figure standing with his head bowed like a condemned criminal.

And then.

"Kgh—!"

A fist sank precisely into his gut, driving Bruce to his knees all over again.

"Quite the circus today, wasn't it? You dragged the knights' name through every kind of filth there was."

"Nngh..."

"When I heard a trainee had pulled insubordination, I figured I'd make a killing off it, so I quietly decided to help you along. Then I lift the lid and the story's completely different? Hm? Huh? Huh?"

Slap. Slap. Slap.

"Anyone's eyes can go funny when they see something expensive, sure. I know exactly what kind of man you are. But here's the thing."

He crouched down and seized Bruce's jaw in a vise grip. Each crack of his hand snapped Bruce's head sideways.

"You got dropped in one hit, humiliated by a commoner bastard — and you still thought you could hold your head up as my successor?"

"I-I let my guard down! I didn't know he'd come at me like that, and I took him lightly—"

The moment the excuse left his lips —

CRUNCH.

A heavy fist slammed full into Bruce's face. And as if that hadn't vented his rage, the kicks followed.

The face hidden beneath the dark was bared at last. It belonged to the very man who, only days ago, had draped his own coat over a gentle young lady's shoulders lest she catch a chill.

"Guard down, my ass, you little shit. Because of you, I'm hearing people say I trained up that kind of man. Huh? Some trash-grade bastard waltzes in and grinds my gears as it is, and now my own skills are being called into question?"

"Ghk!"

"I'm this close to full knighthood. If I get rejected over this — then what?! About my feelings?! Huh?! You fucking bastard!"

That's who he was. Savage and violent. The gentle smile he'd shown Flora was nothing but a manufactured mask. Theo Ramstair's true face was this: cruel, and utterly merciless.

Cruel enough to beat down his own junior — curled up, arms clutched around his stomach — without a shred of hesitation.

"Ha. Fuck. I give you one job — break the man's spirit — and this is what you call handling it."

"..."

"Argh, you piece of shit! This is the fourth straight day of this crap and I'm about to lose my mind. You get that?"

"Ghk! Ugh!"

Under Theo's kicks, Bruce couldn't resist and rolled across the ground once more.

"Ha."

Theo drove one last vicious kick into Bruce's gut, expelling the last of his heat. Then he sank into thought.

Fuck. Of all people, this idiot had to botch it — now it's hard for me to even touch Karsein on my own!

Arina Bagrand had shifted the full knights' gaze. It could have spiraled into an affair for the entire knight order, but because Karsein had let it slide without pressing further, opinion was beginning to turn in his favor.

Now that they're watching properly, everything I've used until now is worthless... How do I drive him out?

Abruptly, he crouched down and seized Bruce by the hair.

"...Right. People make mistakes. So you should get a chance to make amends. Isn't that right, Bruce?"

"Y-yes?"

"You want revenge right now too, don't you. Want to grind that commoner bastard under your heel yourself."

He wasn't asking. Questions were forbidden. Feeling the threat instinctively, Bruce nodded frantically and said yes.

"Tomorrow's training will hand you another chance. Crush him thoroughly. Understood?"

"..."

"No answer?"

Displeased with Bruce's limp silence, Theo raised his hand to strike again — and at that moment, Bruce spoke at once. His eyes had rolled back white.

"It doesn't matter if I go a bit far, right?"

"What?"

"I have to wreck him properly, don't I? Right now, all I can think about is destroying that bastard."

Something about Bruce's state was off. But to Theo, it was fine just the same.

"Fine. That much, I'll leave to your discretion."

After all, this one could simply be used up and thrown away like all the rest. However Bruce's rage made him retaliate against Karsein, all Theo needed was for the man to be unable to remain at the Training Grounds a day longer.

"Hm."

The Status Window had popped up out of nowhere while I was in the middle of doing laundry. The instant I saw the notice that someone bearing deep malice had spawned, my washing hands stopped of their own accord.