Problem Child (1)

After the commotion at Moonlight Spring had settled, we claimed a spot near the silver spring and quietly greeted the night.

Even amid tangled emotions and exhaustion, the moonlight gently embraced us, and the deep night slipped by.

And so the final day of our three-day outdoor training dawned.

“There’s no way this ends without something happening. It’s way too quiet.”

Kado muttered gruffly, scanning the surroundings. After everything that had happened here, the arrogance in his voice had been replaced by sharp wariness.

I couldn’t entirely disagree.

Hundreds of first-years had been scattered throughout this forest. Yet after the last group we encountered near Moonlight Spring, we hadn’t crossed paths with a single other team.

Aside from a brief moment of tension when a swarm of blue poison butterflies suddenly appeared, the path back to the academy was smooth.

When the academy’s towering spires finally peeked through the branches in the distance, relief flickered across our three faces—only for a moment.

The academy’s main gate was thick with heavy murmurs and frantic activity.

Professors and teaching assistants hurried about with grim expressions, while medical staff raced past carrying stretchers without a moment’s rest.

On the faces of the students who had just returned from the practical, there was no sense of accomplishment—only fear and exhaustion.

“……What’s with this atmosphere?”

“I heard a lot of people get hurt during the practicals, but this year’s especially bad…”

Abo nervously tugged at my sleeve.

“Tch. Let’s just submit the Moonlight Spring water and head back to the dorms. We’re covered in dirt. I want to soak in hot water—not spring water.”

Kado said with open disgust. Abo and I nodded silently in agreement.

The next day,

as I was walking down an academy corridor,

a stir rippled through the students.

I instinctively pushed my way into the crowd.

Huh?

Two hundred twenty-five. More than two-thirds of the entire year had failed the assignment.

And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my eyes dropped to the special notice stamped with a red seal below it.

Expulsion.

The moment I saw that word, an involuntary smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

Of course. No—expulsion alone wouldn’t be the end of it.

He had tried to murder the young lady of a ducal house—using poison, no less. This wasn’t some petty student quarrel; it was the kind of incident that could spark a war between houses.

He’d always been treated as a wastrel, so the marquis house would have cut him off without hesitation to avoid the duke’s ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wrath. Stripped of his heir status and disowned, he’d have no future but the streets.

It felt thoroughly satisfying.

But the real problem lay elsewhere.

Two hundred twenty-five dropouts and withdrawals.

Even in the game, there had never been this many failures.

With trembling eyes I read the next notice.

Ecological disruption?

I lifted my head. The murmuring voices of the students around me filtered into my ears.

“Did you hear? Most of the dropouts were from paralysis poison. Apparently a swarm of blue poison butterflies went berserk and spread across the entire forest…”

“Why, though? Those butterflies almost never leave their colony.”

“Sounds like some lunatic stirred up the whole colony. Thanks to that, students got paralyzed en masse and were forced to withdraw on the spot.”

The blue poison butterflies Croffle had used to ambush Ricotta.

He hadn’t planned to stop at Ricotta—he’d intended to take out me, Basil, and even the nearby teammates as well.

To gather that much poison, he must have torn through the butterfly colony itself.

Croffle, you bastard… even on your way out, you go out in spectacular fashion.

I clicked my tongue bitterly and shifted my gaze to the final section of the board.

As expected.

The second heroine, and the Magic Tower Master’s only daughter—a genius mage.

With the overwhelming talent she displayed even in the game, she would have scored the highest without losing her way amid all this chaos.

And I frantically searched for one particular name among the dozens of passers.

Caesar, Wrench, Basil…

“Haa…”

A sigh of pure relief escaped me.

Once every confirmation was done, the fatigue and pain I had been suppressing crashed over me all at once.

Throb—

My shoulder suddenly announced its presence with a burning pain.

Thanks to the emergency treatment I could still move, but the sensation of the blade that had carved into bone and muscle remained vivid.

Leaving the crowded corridor behind, I headed toward the academy’s central infirmary.

The gentle chant of an academy priest and the warm touch of their fingertips sank deep into my body, and the wound melted away like snow.

“The emergency treatment was excellent. A few more days of care and there won’t even be a scar.”

I had survived. And I could recover.

That alone made a corner of my chest ease just a little.

I drew a deep breath and left the treatment room to return to the dormitory.

But the moment I took a step, the sight before me shattered that fragile relief.

The central infirmary was pure pandemonium.

The sharp scent of disinfectant mixed with the metallic reek of blood stabbed at my nose.

From the rooms lining both sides of the corridor, agonized groans never ceased, and the hurried footsteps of healers and priests clattered chaotically across the cold marble floor.

Students screaming in pain, students wrapping bandages with vacant eyes… the brutal results of the practical invaded my vision like a living panorama.

Even in the game it was never this bad…

Even in this grim reality, exhaustion weighed heavily on my entire body.

All I wanted right now was to escape this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠noise and return to the quiet of my own room.

That was when it happened.

Amid the countless groans and screams, a sound that uniquely clawed at my chest pierced my ears.

“Hic… huu…”

It was a cry sharper and more bone-deep than despair or pain.

I stopped without thinking.

From beyond the corner, sobs leaked through the crack of a quiet sickroom door.

…Just leave.

My body was exhausted, my emotions scraped raw.

I could barely take care of myself right now.

It was just a common post-practical trauma event.

My fatigue-soaked body screamed at me to get out of here.

Yet strangely, that sob carried a familiar note. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a forgotten memory quietly rang like an alarm.

I hesitated, then carefully peered through the gap into the room.

On the bed, a girl was curled up, weeping.

Her practical uniform was stained with dirt and wounds.

Red scratches covered the arms and legs I could glimpse.

Soft pastel-pink hair spilled over her shoulders.

In jarring contrast to that delicate color, the girl’s small shoulders shook violently.

In that instant, a name I had forgotten flashed through my mind like lightning.

Salad.

The longtime friend of the second heroine, Panir.

Yet crushed by low self-esteem and guilt, she would eventually fall into Scone’s hands and become a traitor.

“Because of me… hic, if only it hadn’t been me…”

The girl muttered the same words over and over in a cracked voice.

“It’s all my fault… all my fault…”

A voice that sounded as if she were choking on self-reproach.

Those poisonous emotions would gnaw at her until she finally dropped into Scone’s grasp.

I gripped the doorknob and hesitated for a moment.

If I turned away now, everything would proceed exactly as in the original.

Salad would become the predetermined traitor, and Scone would once again overturn the board with ease.

…Am I supposed to watch that happen again?

Scone, if she’s a toy you’re going to break, how about I claim her first?

This time I won’t let her move according to your will.

Once the decision was made, hesitation vanished.

I quietly opened the door and stepped inside.

“Um…”

At my low voice, the girl’s shoulders jerked rigid.

She hastily lifted her head, revealing a face ruined by tears and snot. Large, bloodshot eyes fixed on me, full of wariness.

“W-who are you? Why are you here…?”

I met her trembling gaze straight on. And toward the despair I had seen countless times in the game, I spoke a single line.

“This time… before you fall apart… I’ll take you first.”

“You’ll… what…?”

Silence filled the sickroom for a moment.

Salad stared at me with her bloodshot eyes. Her pupils trembled slightly, as if trying to grasp the meaning of what she had just heard.

She looked utterly confused.

But one thing was certain: this time, I had stepped into her story before Scone.