Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Reluctant Leader
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It looked like she could end the fight in a heartbeat if she really wanted to.
Even as their deputy leader was getting pummeled, the instructors chatted away in relaxed tones.
"She looks like she's gonna lose."
"That girl's impressive. Makes me wanna give it a shot myself."
"You? You wouldn't last ten exchanges."
"Psh, ten exchanges? Can't you see the deputy leader's on the ropes? Surviving three would be an accomplishment."
In the end, the bout between the deputy leader and Roze dragged on until the end-of-class bell rang.
Given that no one intervened despite the chaos, it seemed the instructors had been briefed in advance about the lesson's content.
I handed the injured over to the medical staff entering the classroom.
One dead, forty-two seriously wounded.
No minor injuries.
A wave of intense emotions rippled through the cadets like the tide.
And all that fury was aimed squarely at the instructors responsible.
They saw them as the enemy.
"Hmm..."
Was this why?
After a year living together, these self-centered cadets had finally united, even if against their will.
It wasn't deliberate.
Extreme circumstances had forced their hand.
Once things were sorted, a few cadets approached me.
"Leonard. Thanks. If you hadn't stepped up first, the damage would've been way worse."
The others nodded along, faces just as grateful.
'I didn't really do anything...'
Other than being the first to act, I hadn't accomplished much.
The time I bought holding off the instructors? Barely five seconds.
Hardly enough to call it a contribution.
"Nah. I didn't do anything special."
"I agree with Jane. And you looked after Anne, right? The medics said if you hadn't done emergency care, it would've been much worse."
"Anne's this guy's girlfriend."
I didn't have much to say.
So I just nodded, and he thumped my chest with his fist, then thumped his own.
'...What?'
No clue what that gesture meant.
But from the situation, it wasn't anything hostile.
Then the cadet who'd spoken first opened his mouth again.
"What do you think of this class?"
"...Dangerous. We need to prepare."
"Exactly what we were thinking. So..."
He trailed off, glancing to both sides.
My eyes naturally followed, and I saw the cadets gathered around.
'When did they all show up?'
Excluding the wounded, it looked like nearly everyone was eavesdropping on our conversation.
"Won't you lead us?"
"Me?"
"Yeah. You're the only one who fits the bill."
No idea what about me made them say that.
But the reactions around me were positive.
As I hesitated, they pressed again.
"What do you say?"
"...Like I said, I didn't do anything. You'd probably do better without me. And I wasn't the only one tending to the wounded."
Anyone here could've done what I did.
Plenty were even better suited.
Honestly, I couldn't wrap my head around why these prideful types wanted me in charge.
"But you were the only one who stepped up first."
"And your Real Time Alien Tactics grades are the highest."
"The leader doesn't have to be the strongest, right? We want you to do it."
"No one else steps up, and even if they did, no one would listen to them."
Contrary to my thoughts, the mood was shifting.
It felt like if I didn't lead prep for the next class, it'd turn against me.
Like affection flipping to resentment.
In the end, I accepted.
Using the panel's functions, I set up a class-only channel and scheduled a discussion for later.
With the group dispersed, I went looking for Roze.
She was one of those utterly indifferent to the class's mood.
The main culprit—the instructors' deputy leader—was chatting with her, both grinning.
'No doubt about it...'
Over time, regular cadets' attitudes toward Roze and the Miracle Generation had hardened into wary disdain.
They weren't seen as fellow cadets anymore.
I'd mingled with them before and hadn't noticed much, but now it hit home.
"Twenty-two for real? Hard to believe. You're not some old hag in disguise, are you?"
"Told you no, Gramps."
"But where'd you learn? I watched the whole fight and couldn't place it. Thought it was Nature Fragrance School at first, but nope."
"Self-taught. Roze Style, after my name! Cool, right?"
"Ha! Cool as hell. Ours lacks that explosive flair, sure."
"You're the ones too extreme."
"Extreme? Our Lion Heart Purity is...!"
"Oh, Lemon!"
She spotted me approaching and called my name.
The deputy leader looked over, pondered a moment, then spoke.
"Ah, the decent weakling."
"...Decent weakling? He means me?"
"Kyahaha! Decent weakling, he says."
Nothing to say to that.
I inwardly groaned and eyed Roze.
They say the sister-in-law who eggs it on hurts more than the mother-in-law who swings. Roze's cheerful laugh stung worse.
"A bit weak, but I like his spirit."
"Right? Told ya."
"Don't worry too much. He's got potential. Keep training hard now, and he'll reach the pinnacle someday. Hmm, any sect affiliation? You don't seem formally trained, but if you're interested, our school could take you in officially..."
"Lemon's my disciple, Gramps."
Roze cut in, interrupting.
Still smiling, but the air felt instantly frosty.
The deputy leader switched gears seamlessly, steering past the awkwardness.
"Ah, got it. Sorry for the slip."
"Apology accepted."
"Now that you mention it, you do look alike. Makes sense with such a fine master; the disciple's bound to shine."
"Right?"
"Roze Style, was it? How long you been learning?"
I answered on reflex.
"About nine months formally."
"...Nine months? That's it?"
"I trained in Lion Heart Purity before. Just entry disciple level."
"Even so..."
He scrutinized me like appraising meat.
Roze watched from the side with an understanding nod.
"Forgot we're at Cradle of Heroes Academy. The future looks promising."
"By graduation, he'll be better than you, Gramps."
"Ha, maybe so."
He shot me a veiled challenge as he said it.
'Isn't two years too soon?'
I broke into a cold sweat, inwardly griping at Roze.
Stirring up this scary guy with needless words.
Worried the remaining classes would be pure hell.
'Whew...'
The dead cadet's face flashed in my mind.
This class could go south anytime; nothing strange about it.
The only way to lower the odds was to get stronger.
And unite with my classmates.
I eyed the deputy leader.
'Sshould I ask?'
Even with their goals, did the lesson have to be this brutal?
I pondered but shut my mouth; seemed pointless.
"Time flies. Guess we should wrap up."
"Rematch next time, Gramps."
"Ha, afraid not."
"Huh? Why?"
"You're disqualified. Can't join the next class."
"What?"
Something snapped in my head.
'Can't believe I didn't think of that.'
Of course.
Ten classes.
The four with Roze and the Miracle Generation were in a league of their own.
Sure, first time to gauge skills, but with someone who could solo the whole instructor team? Lesson impossible.
So they get exempted.
"Keep pushing, weakling lad."
He addressed me with a grin, then left.
Roze chased after, yelling foul, but nothing changed.
Talk about fire under my ass.
Then I noticed Roze glaring at me, displeased.
"...What?"
"Decent weakling."
"Ugh..."
Hungry, maybe.
She looked grumpy.
I checked her out.
Roze handled her body masterfully.
She'd gorge and store energy normally, but in a fight, she'd burn it all, shedding pounds instantly.
Pre- and post-fight weight swings often hit over ten kilos.
'Dried up quick.'
Same now.
Before class, her cheeks were so plump and soft-looking; now her muscles stood out sharp.
I pulled a snack from my pocket and popped it in her mouth like always.
*Nom nom...*
She ate it fine.
The grumpy face lingered, though.
"What's up?"
"Not happy."
"About me being a weakling?"
Maybe the deputy leader's words bugged her.
Compared to her or him, it wasn't wrong; no comeback.
*Gulp.* "Yeah."
"Can't your master train you up?"
Roze pondered my words a moment.
I timed another snack; she clutched it and spoke brighter.
"You're right. I'll make sure no one calls you weakling again. Let's go!"
Not heading to the training hall right now, surely.
My injuries needed at least a day to fully heal.
Emergency treatment done, but I wasn't 100% yet.
I grabbed the striding Roze and barely talked her down.
"...Fine. Tomorrow then. Got it?"
"Yeah, got it. Promise."
"Promise?"
"Yeah. Gimme your hand."
She stuck out her pinky; I tilted my head.
I took her hand, hooked pinkies, thumbs together.
"That's the promise sign."
"...This?"
"Yeah. First time?"
"Yeah! Never done this. Am I weird...?"
"Nah. Happens. No biggie if you don't know."
Her eyes sparkled.
Dunno if it's common now, but if it works for us, fine.
"...Promise then? Promise!"
"Yeah."
Roze offered her pinky.
I hooked mine; she folded our pinkies and thumbs, beaming.
*
A week passed.
Every class had run their practical martial combat lesson once.
A new tension hung over the second-years.
Even the usually rowdy cafeteria felt subdued.
Naturally, the practical martial combat class blew up as an issue.
Who'd guess from week one they'd smash cadets this hard?
With fatalities, no less.
Bigger waves than the commotion I caused last semester in Real Time Alien Tactics.
'The other classes fared the same.'
Heard they prepped after the news spread.
But results were similar.
The four classes with Miracle Generation members got off a bit lighter; the rest? Total wipeouts.