The Secret Room (5)

At last, my Strength, Stamina, and Agility had all climbed to 2.

All that relentless training had finally paid off. Before the semester started, I'd poured entire days into working out, and even after classes began I never skipped a session. It was only natural the numbers would catch up.

One less thing to worry about.

I'd been laser-focused on pushing those stats to 2 before the Inter-Year Exchange Tournament, and I'd finally done it. Now, no matter who the Knight Department threw at me, I wouldn't lose on pure physical stats. To be precise, my raw numbers still lagged behind a proper knight cadet's — but factor in the correction from Ultimate Physique and it evened out nicely. Either way, my shot at the championship was locked in. Huge win.

Something else had changed, too: the way the stats themselves were displayed.

No more sitting around in frustration waiting for a whole number to tick over. The stretch from 1 to 2 had felt endless; between 2 and 3, I'd actually be able to watch the progress climb in real time.

Good. Very good.

"…Hey! Can you not hear me?"

I was still quietly savoring my own progress when a sharp voice cut in from beside me. Irina was glaring daggers, her twin tails whipping back and forth.

"I asked you what the hell is going on here."

"You didn't already know when you showed up?"

"No! I got here, saw a fight, and jumped in to help!"

"Unbelievable."

I'd figured that as a protagonist she'd naturally wandered into the side story on her own. It didn't quite add up — but I was grateful all the same.

If Irina hadn't shown up, I would've taken serious damage.

At minimum, I'd have been forced to retire from the fight. Even if I'd managed to protect Isolet, the other protagonist, getting myself wrecked would have made everything a nightmare afterward. One way or another, I owed Irina for this.

"Thanks. I mean it — this was thanks to you."

"Huh? What was?"

Irina's eyes went round as saucers. I patiently walked her through it for the clueless look on her face: the legend passed down at Olympia, the Secret Room, and the countless martial manuals hidden inside.

Once she'd heard the whole story, her reaction was pure simplicity.

"That was a thing? Then count me in."

"You're already in. What are you talking about?"

"Huh? Am I?"

She'd landed the finishing blow on the werewolf with her own two hands, and she still didn't get it. Leaving her to roll her eyes in confusion, I turned to Isolet.

"…"

I'd been trying to ignore it, but something was definitely off. No matter what Irina babbled about, Isolet just stood there silently, gazing up at me.

Both hands demurely clasped against her chest. Both cheeks flushed a deep pink. Both eyes glistening and trembling.

…What's wrong with her?

Open your eyes properly, will you? Your gaze just got weird all of a sudden.

"You okay?"

"…Yes."

At least she answered. But it still felt wrong. Her voice was so soft and damp that touching it might leave moisture on your fingers. What was this? She was supposed to be the stiff, formal type. What happened to her?

"…Thanks to you, I survived."

She bowed her head as she said it. Mm… that was more like the Isolet I knew. The version I recognized was back. Thank god.

"Right, well, never mind that. How about we start with introductions?"

As the only upperclassman present, I took it upon myself to reset the mood. Irina and Isolet had never met. As the dual protagonists, they had no shortage of trials ahead of them — better if they hit it off here and now.

"Introductions?"

Hm— Irina's chin tilted upward. She looked down at Isolet with a sudden air of arrogance. Isolet, cheeks still faintly pink, simply met her gaze.

"Fine by me. My name is Irina Eletal. Top student of the first-year Mage Department. Not that I need to tell you — you already know, right?"

"Yes. That's correct."

Bit by bit, Isolet's speech settled back into its usual register. The flush drained from her cheeks, leaving them porcelain-pale again, and she dipped her head with perfect courtesy. That only egged Irina on; she started chattering with renewed energy.

"Nothing more needs saying, then. You and I are rivals — people who can never afford to lose to each other. Getting too friendly would be a problem, wouldn't it?"

"That is how those around us tend to see it. You are not wrong."

"…"

Apparently Isolet's unchanging expression didn't sit well with her. Irina pouted, then — as if a delicious new topic had just occurred to her — broke into a sly grin.

"Heh. Come to think of it… are you planning to become this guy's disciple? The two of you coming all the way to the Secret Room alone kind of gives it away."

"Pardon?"

"Sorry, but I was the one who got the disciple offer first. And I'm also the one most qualified to be his student. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'd recommend giving up on dreams that aren't going to happen."

"…"

Irina's sudden declaration left Isolet wide-eyed. …I was just as thrown.

Has she lost it?

Where was this disciple nonsense coming from out of nowhere? She'd pulled the same stunt last time when we talked about coming to the Secret Room, and here she was doing it again. What exactly did this girl think I was…?

And then, to my astonishment, Isolet doubled down.

"In that case, you would be my senior disciple sister."

"…Huh?"

"Though I became Senior Heracle's disciple later than you, I look forward ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to learning alongside you."

Isolet bowed her head cleanly. Irina's whole body locked up at the utterly unexpected reply. She clearly hadn't imagined that kind of answer. Well — neither had I.

Please just leave me alone.

Why were these two protagonists so desperate to crawl under my wing? Knowing full well they'd surpass me given enough time, hearing them say they wanted to be my disciples made my head spin.

"…Uh. Sure."

In the end, Irina wrapped up the conversation with a halfhearted mumble. All things considered, Isolet had won that round.

"…"

"…"

The atmosphere turned awkward. Embarrassed by the situation she'd created herself, Irina slipped a hand into her robes, fishing for a change of subject.

"S-so anyway. Look at this. The werewolf dropped it when it died."

"Oh."

What she held out was an internal organ. It had come free so cleanly you almost couldn't believe it had been inside a werewolf moments ago — and it still pulsed with a lifelike vitality. A drop item.

So this dropped.

Boss monsters occasionally left drop items when defeated. The body part varied — this time it was the lungs.

If I remember right, these carried a Howling effect.

Worth taking to an alchemist. But first came the question of who got to keep it.

"Looks like useful material. Who wants it?"

"I am fine without it."

Isolet answered at once. She looked up at me with a gentle smile, making it clear I shouldn't worry about her claiming it.

"The decisive credit for defeating the werewolf belongs to you, Senior. I will step aside."

"Uh… thanks?"

I hadn't expected her to bow out that cleanly.

Sure, I'd played the central role in taking the werewolf down — but Isolet's contribution hadn't been small either. Without her, we never would have cut through its hide, and Irina never would have landed that finishing spell. Why was this girl being so good to me…?

"Well, I don't care either."

Something about Isolet's smile must have gotten under her skin. Irina pouted and tossed the Werewolf's Lungs at me.

"You did basically all the work killing it. I just finished it off. Obviously it's yours."

"…Huh. So you're not throwing a tantrum this time?"

"What do you take me for?!"

Irina's eyes blazed as she snapped back. I'd meant it as a joke, but the reaction was vicious. The fact that I found myself leaning toward Isolet over Irina was, I told myself, not my fault.

Either way, my physical stats were up to 2, and I'd secured the Werewolf's Lungs. But the true reward of this side story was still waiting.

"Let's get moving."

Time to climb the stairs and claim a skill book.

"Which ones should we start with?"

"We don't have time to look through every single one."

I led the two of them up the stairs. Irina and Isolet trailed after me like I was their teacher, sticking close — they seemed to trust me quite a bit.

"We've got tomorrow to think about, so we need to head back soon. Each of you pick one that catches your eye, then regroup."

"Why just one? We could grab a bunch."

"Don't forget this place is a magical construct."

I pointed a finger in answer to Irina's question. Far down the corridor wrapped in darkness, a window looked out onto a night sky. In a space woven from magic, you could never afford to let your guard down. In the original story, anyone who tried to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠take more than one volume didn't come out looking pretty.

"Take two or more and there's no telling what happens. The exit could seal and leave us trapped in here."

"Ugh… that does sound awful. Fine — I'll use my flawless instincts to find the absolute best book."

Convinced by my explanation, Irina headed straight for the shelves of magic tomes. I, being the physical type, had no business over there. I started toward the swordsmanship shelves instead — only for Isolet to glide up beside me with a soft smile, sticking close as if she'd expected exactly this.

"Shall we go, Senior?"

"You're not even curious why I'm heading this way?"

"Because you are who you are, Senior."

…That wasn't an explanation. No, wait — it was, just with way too much left out.

At any rate, Isolet seemed to have figured me out. As we approached the shelves, countless skill books came into view.

"Mm… there are many that look intriguing."

"Go ahead and pick by instinct. Your instincts are always right."

"Hehe. Thank you."

She was a protagonist — whatever she grabbed would turn out to be the right answer anyway. While Isolet stayed put and began leafing through volumes, I pushed farther on.

The section I reached wasn't swordsmanship. It was the shelf devoted to the body itself.

In Song of Sword and Magic, swordsmanship is basically the alpha and the omega.

Knights trained their bodies, sure — but in the end everything funneled into the sword. Anyone who specialized in axes, spears, or bows never reached true greatness. Why? Because that was the setting. Take it up with the developers.

Everything outside swordsmanship is basically dummy data.

So under normal circumstances, these body-focused manuals staring back at me would have been worthless. But as long as I had Ultimate Physique, these would give me the most powerful edge of all.

Bear-Heart Tiger Fist. Azure Dragon Kick. Shadow Step…

Various martial manuals caught my eye. But none of them were enough. What I needed was a single skill book that compiled every body technique and internal method into one complete system — a one-volume solution.

And that was this one.

Twelve Nebula Fists.

A total package spanning fist techniques through internal cultivation. The developers of Song of Sword and Magic had tossed it in for fun — who knew it'd turn out so useful once I actually got here. Time to read it.

No need to read it properly. Just skimming with my eyes was enough for the knowledge to sink into my body. I flipped through at a leisurely pace, closed the book — and the status window shifted.

Got it.

At last, I had a real technique of my own. From here on, I could start preparing for the future with this as my foundation.

"Have you finished, Senior?"

"Yeah."

At some point Irina and Isolet had come up beside me. Each had tucked a manual into her robes, and I could tell what they were just from the covers.

Irina took Rewind. Isolet took Charge.

Both of them had a good eye. Nothing but the cream of the crop.

"Let's go."

"Yes."

We descended the stairs and walked toward the corridor.

With every task complete, the Secret Room had fallen silent. Only the moonlight ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠seeping through the windows quietly lit our path ahead.

Then we returned to the elevator and stepped onto it.

"How do we get back up?"

"Same as coming down. Just stand still and it'll rise on its own."

While we waited those few minutes, I studied the two protagonists in silence.

"Hmm-hmm. What a thing to happen in the middle of the night. Still — a gain's a gain…"

Irina hummed under her breath, looking faintly giddy.

"…"

And Isolet simply gazed up at me without a word.

"What is it?"

"…Senior."

Wondering if something was wrong, I spoke up. Isolet quietly held out her hand. Bathed in moonlight, her pale fingers glowed white.

"Would you hold my hand?"

"…?"

What kind of signal was this? Why the sudden request to hold hands? A dozen questions and doubts flashed through my mind —

"Well, alright."

— but I took her hand anyway, figuring the fight might still have her shaken. She was barely an adult, after all. Protagonist or not, of course she'd be rattled.

"Thank you."

Isolet curled her fingers tightly around mine. The smile she gave as she thanked me was genuinely lovely.

After parting ways with Irina and Isolet, I returned to the dormitory and stared at the item in my hand.

Werewolf's Lungs, huh.

I wanted to process it through alchemy into something usable — but I'd acquired it so abruptly that coming up with a cover story wouldn't be easy. High odds of getting grilled about how I'd gotten it.

Which meant there was a better approach.

I'll go see that guy.

The alchemy otaku in the second-year Mage Department.