Chapter 11
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: 4. Kaen von Dandelrion (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The narrow path leading to the western district.
Amidst it all was me, writhing in belated self-loathing after the excitement had faded.
"Idiot."
I hadn't even done anything lewd.
Just groped Baekya's shoulder a bit,
and yet my dick stood right up at something so trivial.
"Fucking moron."
That was me exactly.
I was a fucking moron.
I wanted to douse myself in ice-cold water, make a total mess of it.
Until I woke from this itchy nightmare.
Or better yet, just freeze to death on the spot.
"Maybe I should just pick a day and jerk off all damn day..."
It was a more serious dilemma than I'd expected.
Ever since picking up that erotic novel at the library, every time I ran into a girl, my first thought was, 'Is she the author?'
I'd gone from three or four times a day to just once a week since enrolling, so of course my libido was bound to act up.
But even so, wasn't this a bit much?
"Might as well just hurry up and find out who the culprit is. Who the hell wrote it anyway."
For starters, Kaen was absolutely not it.
Baekya probably wasn't either.
The Saintess... just didn't seem likely.
Yuzu only seemed interested in her magic research.
So was it one of the people not at the academy right now for some reason?
Like Sern... or Iris, maybe...
"...Sigh."
Fuck it.
My head hurt.
I should just shut my brain off like when I first found that erotic novel and focus on graduating.
Instead, I'd wasted time chasing some dumb fantasy about yanking a noble by the hair.
Thinking about it, my situation was pretty hopeless anyway.
What if it was a book written just to see how I'd react?
If so, I'd been reacting perfectly, which must be pure bliss for her right now.
What if she just wanted to get tangled up with me somehow?
Then she'd have come straight to me ages ago, admitted she wrote the erotic novel.
Maybe even brought a collar with her name on it like a dog.
Barking and meowing, crawling on all fours, eagerly licking my shoes.
Submitting willingly is no fun. What if she wanted to be "forced" just like in the novel?
Then she'd play dumb until I figured it out first, obviously.
In the end, there was nothing I could actively do about it.
No matter how much I wanted to roll in bed with the author, all I could do was fantasize about the academy girls.
How was I supposed to make a move on nobles first?
I'd touched Kaen a little, but anyway.
Whatever her goal, the author seemed like a bitch with a rotten personality.
Who knows. Maybe she'd been giving zero hints this whole time just to piss me off.
Once that thought crossed my mind, pointless irritation surged up, and I kicked at the pebbles in my path. Tap, tap.
"Whatever. If she's that desperate, she'll come find me first."
Screw it.
I shook my head vigorously to clear out the lingering thoughts and stepped off the leaf-strewn path, entering the western district.
If the north was like a scholarly hall,
the east an open field,
and the south a forest,
then the west felt like a city.
More precisely, a "ghost" city.
I'd only just entered the western district, but already several grand mansions loomed in the distance.
The one with sharp roofs piercing the sky against a base of deep azure was Kaen's mansion.
The relatively modest, flat, horizontally elongated Eastern-style building was Baekya's.
There were plenty of other mansions, each boasting their own flair, but I didn't know who owned all of them.
I only remembered a few where I'd bumped into the owners while cleaning the western district.
Some belonged to seniors who'd already graduated (ones whose families were busy on the front lines), but who'd memorize every single one? That'd be weird.
Anyway, I wanted to avoid Kaen today, so instead of the wide main road, I headed down a narrow side alley.
I knew striking first was best, but going to her now might get me sliced by her real sword.
Emerging from the long, winding alley, the first thing in view was a two-story mansion with pristine white exterior walls.
An old one, looking like it should've been demolished years ago.
I didn't care whose it was.
Judging by the surrounding duchesses' and imperial daughters' opulent estates, it was probably some baron's or earl's place from a past senior.
I naturally approached the front gate and grabbed the handle.
"Pardon the intrusion today as well."
No response.
After greeting the empty air, I pushed open the gate—about twice my height—with ease.
Unlike everywhere else, this abandoned mansion's gate wasn't locked.
The gate was the only unlocked part; I couldn't go further inside, but that was fine for me.
There was no better spot to use as a storage for western district cleaning tools.
The garden overrun with weeds.
I strode through it toward the large shed in one corner.
Creak, grind.
Rough wooden surfaces scraping.
I forced open the stiff, neglected door and rummaged through the contents.
"Two brooms, three bags, dustpan... Nah. Maybe brooms and a rake this time."
After a brief deliberation, I gathered the tools and tossed them outside the mansion.
"Let's see..."
This should be enough.
Having laid out what I needed, I stepped out and surveyed today's cleaning area.
Ghost city.
True to the name, the well-paved main road was spotless, not a bug in sight.
Instead, fallen leaves rotting under the roadside trees littered the ground.
Not quite at cleaning level yet, but orders were orders.
Just get it over with quick.
Using magic.
It sometimes bummed me out that my prized mana talent went to cleaning, but I'd felt that way so often it didn't faze me anymore.
"Hoo."
I squeezed my eyes shut, then slowly released my power.
Step by step. Carefully.
Starting from "blooming" the mana source, I raised it stage by stage.
They didn't need this prep, but a chick imitating a stork gets eaten.
A cold stem from my heart spread through my body.
An unpleasant sensation.
Ha. With a light breath, golden particles shimmered between my narrowed eyes before vanishing on a breeze.
Separate topic, but the color wasn't my taste—that saddened me.
How cool would crimson particles from fire mana look spewing from my mouth?
After my childish gripe, I viewed the world through slightly bloomed eyes.
Golden light.
Ashen gray.
Green.
Earth.
Stone.
And flowers.
The "earth" mana permeating the academy grounds caught my gaze wherever I looked.
This was blooming mana.
The bare minimum to see and borrow mana scattered throughout the world.
Calling mana-bloomers "chosen by the gods" made sense for a reason.
The sky dotted with tiny specks.
I lowered my sight to the vast road below.
Of course, it brimmed with earth mana.
I didn't know the exact process, but massive amounts of soil must've gone into building it.
Still, using the road itself would make restoration tough, so hands off.
Instead, the usual.
I turned my head slightly to fix on the shed mansion's garden.
Overrun with weeds.
Not just from neglect.
For someone like me handling earth mana, nothing was easier to draw from than weeds.
No waste either.
Even drained to withering, they stubbornly revived.
Perfect material for my meager mana output.
Plus, I only came here to clean.
With a constant supply like that, it was like a stuffed piggy bank—always reliable.
"Create."
Short incantation.
Immediately, the weeds' fresh green stretched toward me in all directions.
How much you let leak was a mage skill, but I was a swordsman.
I was used to explosive bursts over meticulous gathering, so fine control was beyond me.
Now to decide.
What image today?
"Hmm..."
Not long—three seconds tops.
No better ideas. This it was.
As focus waned, I recalled my go-to image and manifested it.
Nothing fancy.
Just a replica of my hand.
A pair that floated decently and allowed precise control.
At first, zero sensation—couldn't even grasp objects.
But as my most-handled summon since enrolling, I could now wield them like 95% of my real hands.
Downside: zero combat ability.
My mana pool was so weak, one punch would disperse them.
Still, great for odd jobs, so I was content.
Combat? I'd handle that myself.
Cleaning first.
I handed the floating hands a broom and rake each, then rolled up my shirt sleeves.
About two hours later.
I tied off the fourteenth trash bag, wiped sweat from my brow, and stood.
My cleaning skills must've improved.
I'd figured three hours easy...
But it was nearly done. Surprising.
At this rate, post-graduation, I'd end up starting a cleaning business instead of smashing monster skulls.
As that uneasy—not-quite-joking thought hit, one mansion still leaf-strewn nearby caught my eye.
"......"
Sapphire walls.
Kaen's mansion.
Trouble.
It'd been less than a day since my stunt with her. Bumping into her there would turn me into mincemeat.
But skipping it wasn't an option.
Short deliberation.
Intel first.
I crept close to the wall, soundless steps, and peered through the windows.
No clue which was her room, but no signs of life.
Out?
Makes sense—this hour, she'd usually train with two or three professors.
Plebs like me lacked time, dragged around everywhere.
What to do.
If I were a skilled swordsman, I'd sense presences inside...
"Hey. Pervert."
"Gahhh!"
The sudden voice right in my ear.
I jumped, whipping around to the source.
"What're you doing here?"
A black-haired wolf beastkin staring up at me blankly.
Kaen von Dandelrion, uniform slightly disheveled as always, eyed me with an exhausted, all-nighter gaze.