The Unwanted Summons
Chapter 37. The academy admission regulations I vaguely remembered hearing about a year ago. Citizens of the royal capital, Karsion, who had turned sixteen. I was the right age for enrollment, but calling me a citizen was a stretch—I was more like a freeloader. So how had someone singled out my name and sent an admission notice all the way here? No matter how I looked at it, it didn’t add up. It had to be someone’s nasty prank, I told myself… but then again, “If it were a forgery, it’d be… far too precise.”
No matter how much I tried to deny reality, the cold, cruel truth lay spread out before my eyes. There was no reason to forge such an elaborate official document just for a single moment of mischief. All the joy I’d felt over the registration card vanished in an instant, leaving only one word echoing in my head: Why?
I was still staring blankly at the notice, at a complete loss for words, when Reina spoke up.
“Hey, remember that rich kid we dragged back from Selindale about a year ago?”
“Ah, yes.”
At the sudden mention of the protagonist, I lifted my head and answered, the escort request from last year flashing through my mind. I wondered what his story had to do with the admission notice in front of me… but after hearing the rest of what Reina said while sitting on the sofa with her arms crossed, looking indifferent, I could only stare in disbelief.
“I don’t know the details either, but apparently his family gave you a ‘strong recommendation.’”
“What?”
My eyebrows twitched at the way she emphasized “strong recommendation,” one word at a time. It turned out to be the protagonist Kair’s water-ghost tactic. Telling him my name had been a mistake. From his perspective, once he knew the name, it wouldn’t have been hard to find out where I lived by hiring someone. The words I’d spat out in irritation back then—“Wouldn’t three years of service be enough?”—had come flying back like a boomerang.
That son of a bitch…
The image of Kair laughing heartily seemed to overlap with the notice. Cursing under my breath, I crumpled the document with a rustle. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but even after all his scheming, I’d only complained a little and let it slide… yet in this moment, my opinion of the protagonist took a sharp turn for the worse.
This wasn’t an admission permit. It was an admission notice. In other words, it wasn’t saying “You’re welcome to attend~” but rather “Get in here.” If I didn’t comply without a valid reason, I’d become a juvenile delinquent in an instant.
This is absurd.
Narrowing my eyes at my own lack of options, I grumbled inwardly while staring at the crumpled notice. My other hand, which had been holding the registration card, dropped limply toward the floor.
“Hm?”
While I was silently gazing at the notice, a puzzled voice cut through the cold air. Reina walked over, took my dangling arm, and lifted it. When she saw the registration card clutched in my limp hand, her eyes widened slightly.
“Oh, did your registration card just come in?”
For a mercenary, it was something you couldn’t afford to be without. With a short sigh of recognition, her expression brightened at once.
“Yes, I was just about to show it off…”
Even as I said it, I swallowed the rest of my words. Today had almost been a good day. Instead of continuing, my gaze shifted to the notice in my other hand. That single piece of paper had ruined my mood in an instant. My plan to steadily build up achievements as a formal mercenary while farming hidden items here and there… had been derailed by some bastard’s water-ghost tactic, forcing me into three years at the academy.
“Pfft, looks like you won’t be racking up proper achievements for a while.”
Reina spoke in her usual indifferent tone, yet a small laugh escaped her lips. Now that I was officially registered as a mercenary, this was the time I should’ve been piling up accomplishments, but the academy notice had come crashing in out of nowhere.
“…You’re right. Sigh.”
I agreed with a short sigh. During my time at the academy, my range of activities would be restricted to the vicinity of the royal capital whether I liked it or not. Even the protagonist, who could skip the tedious travel process with a single tap on the goddess statue, wouldn’t be an exception. To drag me into such a restrictive place… Noble blood or not, if I ran into him, I’d have to punch that smug face of his.
Carrying that stifled feeling, I finished today’s work and headed to the mercenary guild. By now, the young boars and tusk snakes—and even the adult boars—collapsed the moment I stabbed or struck them. There was hardly any tension left. My daily routine had become dragging a cart out, loading it full of monsters, delivering them to the slaughterhouse, and collecting the money.
“Puhaha! So you’re heading to the academy right after getting your registration card?”
“That’s what I’m saying…”
Before heading home, I stayed at the guild, building rapport with the other mercenaries. The two I was talking to now were Silven and Elpina, the same pair who had been kind to me back when I worked with Esmar. They had both reached B-Class by now and were busy traveling from city to city, taking on named requests. Their return to the capital this time was due to an escort commission, and they planned to stay for a few days before passing through Selindale on their way to Caldera.
“So you’ve given up on being a traveler altogether?”
After Silven’s loud burst of laughter, Elpina asked in a more mature tone. She seemed to have changed quite a bit—speaking less than when we first met. I paused to think about her question of whether I’d completely abandoned my dream of traveling. Honestly, I wasn’t sure. Were mercenaries and travelers really that different? In the end, I answered lightly, without much weight behind it.
“Money comes first, after all. I’ll think about it once I’ve earned enough.”
“Pfft, true.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s the best thing in this world.”
The moment the conversation ended with money, Elpina burst out laughing while Silven made a circle with his fingers and declared that money was the best. Given that their line of work involved risking their lives, talks like this always concluded the same way.
Perhaps reluctant to part just yet, Silven leaned both arms on the back of the long sofa, tilted his head back toward the ceiling, and continued.
“By the way, the academy… Honestly, its reputation isn’t as good as people say.”
“Still, you’ll get to meet plenty of friends your age.”
Elpina added an optimistic remark to Silven’s negative muttering. He let out a dry laugh as if to refute her.
“Ha, the only friends you’ll make there are the ones tied to the same social status. Everyone else is an enemy.”
At those few words that made him sound oddly knowledgeable about the academy, Elpina’s eyes widened as she turned to him.
“Wait, were you from the capital?”
“Huh? Did I never mention it?”
Silven answered Elpina’s surprised question in his usual nonchalant tone. She raised her voice.
“You never said a single word!”
“Aigoo, my ears… At least you know now.”
“What do you mean, ‘at least’?!”
Even after his reply, Elpina kept punching him with quick, petty jabs. I wasn’t entirely sure why she was hitting him—maybe she thought he’d hidden it from her on purpose. Watching their rather pleasant dynamic, I casually asked,
“How long have you two been traveling together?”
“About a year now? We met by chance and started working together.”
Silven answered calmly, without so much as a groan, even while taking Elpina’s punches. She soon puffed up her cheeks and started kicking him too, but he paid it no mind and continued speaking from a tactical standpoint.
“Either way, it’s nice having someone who can attack from a distance.”
Unfortunately, no matter how much a mage leveled up, their strength-related stats didn’t increase much. In other words… they were fundamentally unsuited for dealing physical damage to warriors. Having exhausted herself, Elpina stopped her punches and kicks, flopped onto the table with her cheek pressed against it, looking thoroughly sulky.
“Hmph…”
“Now what?”
She let out a hissing sound and shot Silven a resentful glare. He responded with a resigned tone, as if this wasn’t the first time.
“She’s probably upset that I didn’t tell her something so important.”
When I guessed Elpina’s feelings, she nodded silently with her face still stuck to the table. Silven looked exasperated.
“Hah, when did you ever ask?”
Unable to understand why Elpina was sulking, he gaped at her in disbelief. If I stayed any longer, even my gallbladder would start tasting sweet. I quietly slipped away from my seat and left the guild behind…
Staring at the wide-open gates of Astra Academy, I made up my mind.
Since I’m going anyway, I might as well shake the place down and take everything that isn’t nailed down.