Chapter 8: The First Letter (8)
Chapter 8: The First Letter (8)
Daily life at the Academy was remarkably consistent.
Except for the weekends, much of my schedule was dictated by the curriculum. In a place where failing a course meant immediate expulsion, no student could afford to be lax about their grades.
Even after sustaining injuries from my duel with Seria last week, I had attended every single lecture except for that one day. No matter how well a medical excuse was handled, skipping classes would inevitably take a toll on one's academic standing.
Consequently, most students planned their entire day around their lectures.
For instance, classmates taking the same course might head out for a meal together afterward. Or, if there was a gap before the next lecture, they might head to a nearby training hall for some self-directed practice.
I was no exception. It had been a week since my duel with Seria, and my life was slowly returning to its peaceful rhythm.
My routine was simple: attend lectures, hang out with Celine or Reto, and finish the day with a training session in the evening.
It was a predictable, treadmill-like existence, but I found comfort in its mundanity. To be honest, the events of the previous week had created far too many cracks in my daily life.
Even now, the crazy things I had done during my week of lost memories were still the talk of the school. From what I gathered, "The Yurdina Near-Death Incident" was so famous that it had overshadowed everything else, but I had apparently exhibited several other bizarre behaviors.
I had supposedly approached the Saintess out of the blue and just stared at her without saying a word. I had also asked Celine if she had any intention of using a weapon other than a sword.
I felt like I needed to offer a formal apology to the Saintess later. That gentle soul had been so flustered that she’d asked me several times if something was wrong.
And apparently, I hadn't even answered her; I had just turned on my heel and walked away. No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't understand my own actions.
Why was I so incredibly rude and ill-mannered when I lost my memory?
It made the advice I gave Seria last week—telling her to "get some manners"—feel downright embarrassing. Every time I heard a new rumor, a sigh escaped my lips.
Today was no different. I was walking down the path, debating when I should go see the Saintess, when I felt a sharp poke in my side.
It was Celine. Her amber eyes were full of delight as she gave me a beaming smile.
"Hey, Ian!"
"…Yeah, hey."
At the sound of my sigh-laden voice, Celine covered her mouth and giggled. It was as if she knew exactly what was weighing on my mind the moment she saw me.
Our friendship spanned over a decade. Since we had been close since we were eight years old, she could read me like an open book just by looking at my face.
"You're thinking about when you lost your memory, aren't you?"
I should have known. It wasn't the first time she’d read my thoughts, so I simply nodded without any sign of surprise.
While it was a dark chapter of history for me, Celine didn't seem to feel the same way. On the contrary, she puffed out her chest with pride and placed a hand over her heart.
Thump. The sound accompanied a visual of soft, squishy movement. I cleared my throat and quickly averted my gaze.
"Why? I thought you were cool. Haven't we been looked down on for a while? Those high-ranking nobles... those bastards strutting around and calling us 'scraps'..."
"Not everyone is like that. Besides, discrimination based on status is forbidden within the Academy."
"That's just ink on a dusty old rulebook."
Celine cut me off with a firm tone, dismissing my principled answer. I glanced around. It wouldn't do any good if someone overheard her saying things like that.
Fortunately, the people nearby didn't seem to be paying Celine much attention. Though, I did still hear the occasional whisper about me as people passed by.
It was because my fame had only grown after drawing with Seria in last week's match.
The first time is a fluke; the second time is fate. Moreover, the second rumor was far more credible than the first.
No matter if I was a year ahead of her, it was considered impossible for a mid-to-low rank swordsman to overwhelm the top student of the year. The gap in talent was not something so soft or forgiving.
In comparison, the story of me seizing an opening and catching the top student off guard was a much more "exemplary" and "beautiful" rumor.
It suggested that even the weak could defeat the strong if they had the will. It was a moralistic tale that gave hope to the lower ranks and served as a warning to the upper ranks.
Furthermore, it seemed that the perceptions of several students who used to ignore me for being a lower noble had changed in the process. That was likely what Celine was trying to get at.
"Do you have any idea how many kids have been acting out just because they have good parents? Some guy even hit on me and said, 'Hmm, you're decent enough to be a concubine.' Ugh..."
"Give me that bastard's name. I'm going to go punch him."
As Celine shuddered in disgust, harsh words tumbled out of my mouth automatically.
The guy clearly had a talent for making people nauseous, from his tone to his choice of words. I couldn't help the urge to go deck him.
Of course, I wasn't stupid enough to actually go and punch a high-ranking noble.
Wait... I already beat up the Yurdina brat, so is it possible now?
As I fell into serious contemplation, Celine burst into giggles. She looked at me with eyes that were even more smug than before.
"Hee-hee. So, you do get mad when someone hits on me?"
She had a look in her eye that I didn't quite like—that "Oh, so you are a man" kind of look.
I let out a hollow laugh, incredulous. I wasn't about to give her the answer she wanted.
"No? I'm just worried that one of His Majesty the Emperor's loyal subject families might fall into ruin... Gack!"
Celine's retribution for my sarcasm was instantaneous. Her foot came down hard on my toes, and I was forced to hop on one foot, letting out a yelp of pain.
Celine glared at me with cold eyes before crossing her arms and letting out a huff. I had no idea what had upset her so much.
Even after knowing her for over ten years, the heart of a young woman remained an enigma.
As I looked at Celine with aggrieved eyes, she seemed to feel it was time to get back to the point and wrapped up her thoughts.
"Anyway, what I'm trying to say is... thanks to your performance, Ian, even the high nobles can't treat me carelessly anymore. They're probably afraid you'll go crazy again and beat them within an inch of their lives."
"I'm not doing something that insane a second time..."
Feeling the throbbing pain in my foot, I gave a sighing response.
However, my will wasn't required for rumors to spread. Having learned that lesson painfully over the past week, my voice carried a sense of resignation.
Regardless of what I said, the world would remember me as the psycho who beat up the scion of a powerful family from the North.
Whether she was proud of that fact or not, Celine gave a slight smile and clung tightly to my arm.
I felt a soft, firm sensation. Celine really is an adult now, the thought flashed through my mind.
"Maybe I should just go around telling everyone I'm your girl? Then I bet nobody would dare touch me."
"And ruin your marriage prospects?"
"Then you can just take responsibility for me, Ian."
At Celine's cheeky remark, I turned my gaze toward her for a moment. Her amber eyes sparkled with mischief, and a mysterious smile played on her lips.
What a joke.
I clicked my tongue and flicked her forehead. Celine let out a cute yelp, clutching her forehead as she pulled away from me.
"Ouch!"
"Since you were born pretty, enjoy your life, okay? With your looks, there are plenty of prestigious noble families who would take you as a wife."
At my words, Celine's expression crumpled instantly. She let out a sharp shout.
"Do—do you think I'm the kind of person who gets married based on conditions?!"
"Everyone says that when they're young, but marriage is reality."
As I spoke while clicking my tongue, a sulky look appeared in Celine's eyes. But much of what I said was the truth.
From the moment they are born, nobles carry the fate of their families. Even if they don't inherit the title, they have to sacrifice their lives for the prestige and prosperity of the house.
Marriage was no different. Celine might want to marry someone she loved like a protagonist in a romance novel, but when the time came to decide on a spouse, she wouldn't be able to ignore the future of her family.
So, I couldn't be the one to block the path of a woman with a bright future. A bitter smile touched my lips at that harsh reality.
Celine was still grumbling as if she couldn't accept it.
"Hmph. As long as it's a noble family, it's fine. As long as it's a noble family..."
I had no idea what she was thinking, but I decided not to force the unpleasant reality on her any further. It would be tactless to keep talking about it.
Instead, as I was debating how to properly soothe her, I realized someone was walking toward us from the opposite direction.
With messy brown curls that suggested he’d stayed up all night and green eyes that couldn't hide his exhaustion, his familiar appearance marked him as the final member of "The Empire's Trio of Lower Nobles."
Reto Einstein was trudging toward us.
"Reto!"
I waved my hand, glad to see him, but Celine's expression soured even further upon seeing his face, and she even mimed gagging.
They were cousins and actually got along well, but since they had grown up like siblings, Celine was particularly prickly toward Reto.
Of course, Reto was just as bad. He accepted my greeting warmly, but his face twisted into a scowl the moment he saw Celine.
"Well, well, look who it is. If it isn't the Low-Mid Rank Hero who's been setting the Academy ablaze! And... one ugly girl."
"Who are you calling ugly? You look like a boiled potato."
"Why, you stupid girl, I'll—"
Reto, already exhausted, seemed genuinely riled up by Celine's counterattack, but she just stuck her tongue out and ducked behind my back.
Reto took a step forward as if he were going to grab her by the hair, but then he slumped, seemingly lacking even the energy for that.
It was a classic trait of students in the Magic Department. When assignments or research ran long, their vitality would plummet. Especially for someone like Reto, who enjoyed his drink and dance.
I watched him with a bit of pity before asking about something that had caught my ear.
"What's this 'Low-Mid Rank Hero' talk?"
"What else would it be? It's what they're calling you. All the kids who were being treated like nobodies... thanks to you, they've started thinking, 'Maybe I can do it too?'"
A chuckle escaped my lips. What nonsense.
"I don't even know how I did it myself..."
"Still, your instincts have been sharp since you lost your memory. Your mana capacity increased, your meridian points were cleared... Sip... I really want to study you."
Reto still seemed interested in my condition, but since I clearly showed my distaste for the idea, he smacked his lips and dropped the subject.
Instead, he flashed a slight smile, as if he’d just remembered something. It was a handsome smile, though it was a shame it usually appeared when he was about to pry or ask for a favor.
Reto asked me in a voice brimming with curiosity. It seemed the power of inquisitiveness had restored some of his energy.
"By the way, is it true?"
"...What is?"
At my question, which was filled with genuine confusion, Reto stepped closer and tapped my shoulder as if to say, Stop playing dumb. Then he continued.
"I heard that Yurdina brat has been following you around like a lost puppy."
"...What?"
The answer came from behind my back. Celine's small head popped out from behind me, where she had been using me as a shield.
Her face was frozen stiff. Her amber eyes held a cold light.
"That bitch? Why?"
Then, both siblings turned their gaze toward me. Their eyes demanded an answer. I eventually let out a sigh and gestured with my eyes toward the back.
Trees were planted throughout the campus for aesthetic purposes. Behind one particularly large tree, a glimpse of gray hair was visible.
Seria Yurdina. She was one of my biggest headaches lately.
Reto let out a soft, amused laugh, while blue sparks practically flew from Celine's eyes.
"Who does she think she is, following Ian around? Does she not remember beating him half to death just a while ago? That brat..."
"There must be a reason, right? Maybe she fell for Ian, for example."
Celine seemed ready to go and confront Seria right then and there, provoked by Reto's subtle prodding. That was why I grabbed her arm.
"Stop. It's not like she's hurting me, so what does it matter?"
"It matters because it's annoying! My teeth still itch just thinking about what happened last week...!"
Celine's hostility toward Seria seemed to stem from last week's duel. Of course, before that, I had ruthlessly assaulted Seria, but the human brain loves convenient interpretations.
In her mind, the fact that I had beaten Seria nearly to death had likely been erased. Only the moments of violence I suffered at Seria's hands remained.
At this rate, a clash between Celine and Seria seemed inevitable. And no matter if she was an illegitimate daughter, Seria was still a high-ranking noble who bore the Yurdina name; it was painfully clear whose defeat that clash would end in.
She’d said she would pretend not to know me if I touched a Yurdina, yet here she was being so inconsistent. I was grateful for that, though.
I glanced at the growling Celine, then turned my gaze back to the gray hair peeking out from behind the tree.
Come to think of it, I had left this problem unaddressed for too long. It had already been a week; it was probably best to have a conversation.
With that thought, I released Celine's arm and immediately placed my hand on her shoulder.
"Wait here. I'll go talk to her."
"...You will, Ian?"
Celine looked dissatisfied, but since I, the person involved, was stepping up, she had nothing to say and suppressed her explosive temper for the moment.
Reto looked on with intense interest, as if he were about to see something even more entertaining. He offered some advice.
"Who knows? Maybe she really is following you because she's smitten. If it's a confession, just take it. She's pretty, from a great family, and talented. Where else are you going to find a match like—Gack! Celine, you really...!"
Of course, that advice was cut short by a well-deserved punishment.
I calmed my racing heart, took a deep breath, and began to walk.
To be honest, I couldn't even begin to guess why Seria Yurdina was following me.
She fell for me? After I beat her like that with a wooden sword, and after she was trembling in fear of me just last week? There was no way.
That left my imagination to wander in several directions. Some of those included rather ominous theories.
Like revenge, for example.
I couldn't help but be nervous. Seria must have felt my presence approaching; her hair twitched, but she didn't run away.
Instead, she even peeked her head out to confirm it was me. When I stood before the tree, Seria hesitantly stepped out from behind it.
"Seria, do you have something to say to me?"
Instead of answering, Seria bowed her head deeply. A flush rose to her smooth, milky skin.
Is she still afraid of me? Just as I was dwelling on that bitter memory, Seria looked up, as if she had summoned her courage.
Then, with eyes full of determination, she began to speak haltingly.
"T-T-That is..."
Struggling to continue, she squeezed her eyes shut and bowed at the waist. It was the posture of someone making a polite request.
"I-I ask for your g-g-guidance... ugh... I ask for your guidance and instruction!"
She’d bitten her tongue again, but this was good enough.
There was no arrogance of a high noble, her stiff attitude from before had softened significantly, and her posture as a junior seeking learning from a senior was excellent.
Seeing her attitude upgraded from "The Yurdina Brat" to "Junior" in just one week, I felt a sense of inner satisfaction and nodded.
Then I said:
"No."
"T-Then, I look forwa—pardon?"
My answer was so unexpected that Seria, who had been reciting what seemed like a pre-prepared thank-you, looked momentarily dazed.
Her bewildered gaze met mine, and I gave her a bright smile as I drove the point home.
"I said no."
Seria froze in place like a statue.