I Won't Lose to a Racist
Lapiel's mansion training grounds. I stood facing a girl. Behind her, her tied-back hair swayed slowly in the breeze. Beneath her sprouting horns, her expressionless eyes were revealed.
"……What did you say?"
"This is our mansion."
You're the outsider. I'm the outsider? I hate otherworlders. They're uncivilized, insignificant barbarians with no sense of morality. Especially if they don't treat me kindly, they're not worth being nice to. Just because they're pretty? If they have no manners, they need a good kick in the ass to come to their senses.
"Our."
At that moment, Aransol's mouth opened again. She was staring at me with one eyebrow raised. The word "our" seemed to bother her. Shishiroka was no longer part of that "our." And she probably didn't like how a transmigrator had taken an otherworlder's place. This fucking racist.
Sorry, but racial discrimination is the thing I hate most in the world. Of course, otherworlders are a close second.
"Fine." Aransol didn't spare me another glance. She clearly didn't want to talk any longer. "Do what you want."
She drew her sword. It was clearly high-quality—the edge felt sharp. She swung it with complete freedom. Every time the blade extended, it traced a straight line. That alone told me how much she'd trained with the sword. She's skilled.
I've got some experience as an explorer myself. Even so, there weren't many who swung a sword as cleanly as she did. I glanced at her hands and saw the marks of training. Scars and calluses that no woman's hands should have. How long has she been practicing the sword? I couldn't tell exactly, but it was longer than me.
Regardless, I plopped down in a corner. My top priority was breaking the seed. So today, too, I focused my mana to crack it. The applied mana gathered around the seed.
Breaking the seed wasn't about smashing it with mana. It was about slowly shaving it away. You had to carefully scrape around the edges without damaging the inside, until the perfect form was complete. That was the process mages called "breaking the seed."
Once broken, a seed never returned to its original state. If you broke it the wrong way, mana could flow backward and destroy your body. So you could never rush breaking a seed. You had to take your time, patiently chipping away at it.
Of course, for someone like me whose seed was much thicker than others, it was honestly torture. How long would it take to see the inside if I kept chipping away like this? Lapiel told me never to rush, so I'd listen—but that didn't make it any less frustrating.
The process of breaking a seed took at least several hours once you started. Since stopping midway wasn't easy either, I focused on it for a long time. Before I knew it, the sun was setting. I took a breath and opened my eyes. I'd broken as much as I could today. Just as I lifted my head, thinking I'd continue tomorrow—
Whoosh! The sound of a sword swinging reached my ears. I turned my gaze and saw Aransol—the same Aransol I'd seen earlier, still swinging her sword. The only difference was that her breathing was rough and she was drenched in sweat. There were no large footprints around her from moving around.
Don't tell me she's been swinging that sword in the same spot this whole time? Checking the time, nearly four hours had passed. I'd trained too, but I'd only been sitting and concentrating. Meanwhile, she'd been swinging her sword nonstop. Incredible.
At the same time, for some reason, my competitive spirit flared up. I closed my eyes and focused again. I wasn't usually the type to hate losing, but I didn't want to be the first to leave. So I decided to concentrate a little more. Eyes closed, I kept shaving away at the seed.
Before long, several more hours had passed. Thinking she must've left by now, I cracked my eyes open. She was still there. And in even worse shape than before, pouring out sweat. Her hands and feet were trembling—she'd clearly hit her physical limit. But she didn't move. She only glanced my way before resuming her training.
The moment I saw that, I understood. That girl was aware of me. Just like I'd been conscious of Aransol, she was conscious of me and had no intention of leaving. That fact irritated me. Losing in willpower to some uncivilized otherworlder? That was something I could never accept. Especially not to a transmigrator racist.
I'll show you the terror of a transmigrator's tenacity and persistence. Close your eyes right now. I'm grinding this seed until I die today.
＊ ＊ ＊
What even is time? I'd been training long enough to start thinking pointless thoughts. The sun had set ages ago, and my stomach was protesting its emptiness. In that situation, Aransol and I were still holding down the training grounds. And neither of us had any intention of leaving first. At this rate, it felt like neither of us would escape until one of us collapsed.
My butt was itching. I really couldn't take this anymore. But I couldn't lose to that racist, so I couldn't get up. Damn it, just kill me. Ah, even if I die, I'll come back to life.
When I cracked my eyes open, I could feel Aransol glancing my way too. She looked like she wanted to leave the training grounds just as badly. Both of us desperately wanted to get up and go, yet neither of us could. We were stuck in this impossible situation.
Tap-tap— The sound of salvation's footsteps echoed, coming to rescue us both.
"What's this? Are you two still training?"
There stood Lapiel, wrapped in a blanket. She looked exhausted, as if she'd been talking with Soun until this hour. Aransol's and my faces changed at the same time.
"It's late. That's enough—go inside. It's getting cold too."
Just as she said, the weather was freezing.
"Can't be helped. If Lapiel says so."
"……"
When I casually lifted my butt, Aransol silently lowered her sword as well. Even so, her large eyes were filled with intense agreement.
As Aransol and I walked out of the training grounds, Lapiel looked at us for a moment. Then she smiled brightly.
"Did you two get closer after training together until this hour?"
Aransol's and my eyes met. The gazes we exchanged held nothing but mutual wariness. But Aransol soon put on the friendly smile she'd shown at the very beginning.
"Yes, of course. Right, Harua?"
Wow, this girl. Her face-changing skills were no joke. It was absurd, but Lapiel wanted me to get along with Soun's disciples.
"Of course, Aransol."
When I played along, Lapiel beamed and patted my shoulder.
"Anyway, your sociability is impressive. Keep training hard together tomorrow too."
"Aren't you going to supervise us, Lapiel?"
"……Sorry, I've been a bit busy lately. I have things to handle separately with Soun too."
It was probably about the Grace Magic Tower. Plus, that terrorist group called Black Dawn seemed to be a problem as well.
"Understood. Don't come crying later saying you missed watching my growth because I got too strong."
"I'd rather you said that after actually getting stronger. A kid who can't even break his seed talking big."
"My seed's just a shy one. Maybe it'll turn into a baobab tree later."
"I don't know what kind of tree that is, but don't keep your master waiting too long."
With that, Lapiel yawned and walked away. From the direction she was heading—the study—it seemed she was going back to work. She'd collapse at this rate. Workaholic. Total workaholic.
When I turned my head, my eyes met Aransol's—she hadn't left yet. She was looking at me with a strange expression. Why's this racist girl glaring at me like that? When I stared back without looking away, Aransol averted her eyes first. She turned and left just like that. I really couldn't figure out what kind of person she was.
＊＊＊
The next day, I was eating lunch with someone. Across from me sat an Outer Horn Tribe member with black hair tied back, the inner layers white—a two-tone look. The transmigrator racist, Aransol.
How did things end up like this? The answer was simple. Aransol and I had eerily similar behavioral patterns.
I did light physical training in the morning, studied in the forenoon, then trained after lunch. Aransol did light physical training in the morning, studied swordsmanship textbooks, then trained after lunch. Yeah, our patterns were practically identical. Because of that, I kept running into Aransol wherever I went.
For the first few days, I tried avoiding her, but the places for studying and training were limited. Our paths overlapping was an unavoidable fate.
Aransol and I ate without any conversation. Lapiel thought we'd become friends. There were many eyes in the mansion. If we ate far apart in the dining hall, we obviously wouldn't look like friends. That news would reach Lapiel right away.
Aransol wanted to look good to her superiors. I didn't want to cause Lapiel any worry. So Aransol and I sat facing each other, eating with appropriate discretion.
"Oh, you're eating."
Just then, Sohan appeared. He always woke up around this time. His lifestyle seemed far from that of a morning person. Between the collar of his clothes, I spotted marks that looked like mosquito bites. I knew what those marks were. My little brother—handsome bastard that he was—always had them after staying out overnight. This guy had stayed up late with a woman and overslept.
The Sohan who supposedly had strong sexual desire hadn't overcome it with mental fortitude. He'd just charmed women into liking him and then relieved himself. I took back the brief moment I'd respected his mental strength.
Sohan looked between Aransol and me, then smirked.
"You two getting along?"
"No."
At that moment, Aransol set down her utensils and stood up.
"Not at all."
She glared at me briefly before leaving just like that.
"She's pretty sexy, though."
Sohan must have something wrong with his eyes. Maybe he just liked any pretty girl.
"Aransol's pretty prickly, huh?"
"She hates transmigrators, so it doesn't matter."
"Being discriminated against must feel bad from a transmigrator's perspective. I'll apologize on her behalf."
He scratched his neck, looking slightly apologetic. He was good at charming women, and his personality wasn't bad either. No, maybe that was exactly why women never stopped coming to him.
"It's fine. Like you said, Sohan, we don't need to worry about each other."
"It's easier if you think that way, but something troublesome happened."
"Troublesome?"
"Do you know about the Holy Land of the Stars?"
Before I knew it, food had been served, and Sohan wiggled his fingers. At that moment, the utensils floated in his grasp. As I watched in surprise, Sohan chuckled briefly.
"My ability lets me move blades freely. A kind of telekinesis."
Whoa, that was seriously enviable.
"Thanks to this ability, I was able to join under Master, the Sword Lord. And probably because of it, Aransol doesn't think well of me."
"She hates you because of your ability?"
"Aransol has no talent for the sword," Sohan declared. "So all she has is effort. Effort born from a desire for revenge, at that."
In contrast, Sohan possessed an obviously useful ability. I'd seen him training in the training grounds just once. It was the kind of sight that perfectly matched the words "sword prodigy." His swordsmanship was so overwhelming that calling him a genius felt natural. And his skill was clearly on a different level from Aransol's.
Sohan, who'd never handled a sword in his life, surpassed Aransol, who'd handled one her entire life. I didn't need to deeply imagine how that must've felt for her.
"That's why I don't go to the training grounds much."
Aransol lived in the training grounds all day. Showing her my training would only earn her resentment. Yet Sohan's swordsmanship kept improving—far beyond what Aransol could ever hope to close the gap on.
I understood why she'd been close with Shishiroka. Shishiroka had also desperately struggled to survive. And she'd been unable to escape the limits of her given talent.
I didn't know what Aransol's revenge was about. I only vaguely knew it was connected to transmigrators.
"I see." And once again, I didn't pay it much attention.
"Ah, come to think of it." Sohan looked up as if remembering something. "Lapiel said earlier to call you if I saw you."
It was a summons from Lapiel.