The Person I Don't Want to Meet (3)
Arthur launched into a passionate defense, insisting that on most of the exams he had, in fact, outscored Joy.
And he had a point — Joy, living up to her nickname, had fumbled her way through an absolutely staggering number of careless mistakes, botching problem after problem that she should never have gotten wrong.
Had the world continued on its original course, Joy would no doubt have landed in her usual ninth or tenth place.
What had catapulted her grades skyward, then, was none other than Mana Manipulation.
It was a required course for anyone studying magic, so both Joy and Arthur had been enrolled in it — which meant they'd taken the same exam.
Its professor was a firm believer in practice over theory, so naturally the Mana Manipulation exam had been a practical one.
"The assignment this time was how many spells you could stabilize and control simultaneously."
Listening to Arthur's account, I finally understood why Joy had thanked me.
Wait, that's exactly what I drilled her on.
"The Airhead Lady put on a spectacular performance in that exam, I'll grant."
Joy had followed my instructions to the letter, grinding her mana manipulation proficiency night after night until her mana pool ran completely dry.
A girl whose proficiency had been raised the way a player grinds it — not some NPC following the world's script — was never going to measure up to ordinary people.
And sure enough, Joy had strutted through the Mana Manipulation exam, left every single student in the dust, and walked away with the highest score in the class.
A perfect score, no less — something the notoriously strict Mana Manipulation professor had awarded to only four people in his entire career.
Arthur had also turned in a performance head and shoulders above his peers, but it hadn't been enough to satisfy a professor who'd already glimpsed a sliver of transcendent talent. And so Arthur found himself scored far, far below Joy.
"Do you have any conception of the injustice I suffered?! That a single exam score could overturn the entire ranking — do you not find that absurd?! It is not as though I botched the Mana Manipulation exam, either. Judged on overall standing, I took second place! But the gap between first and second was so vast that the entire order was flipped!"
I had to admit, Arthur had grounds to feel cheated.
If I'd won every other test fair and square and then lost the ranking because of one exam, I'd be furious too.
"Well, Your Highness, a win is still a win, isn't it♡? How pathetic of you not to accept it."
"Joy! You cannot be serious!"
Joy beamed brighter than I'd ever seen her, positively glowing at the fact that she'd beaten Arthur.
Seeing that intimidating face of hers look happy was a genuinely rare event — by Joy's standards, she was probably one step away from rolling on the floor laughing.
Huh. He called her an airhead, and she was holding a grudge this whole time?
"You simply should have scored higher, Your Highness♡. Then you wouldn't have had to lose to me."
I don't know who taught her that, but whoever it was trained her exactly right in the art of insufferable comebacks.
The facts just kept stacking up one after another, and Arthur was visibly losing his composure.
At this rate, actual profanity was going to come out of that royal mouth.
After teasing Arthur to her heart's content, Joy finally turned her head toward me.
"It's all thanks to Lady Aln. Because she told me to practice, I earned the professor's highest praise."
"Damn it all. Lucy Aln. What are you? Did you, too, meet the Black-Robed Prophet?!"
The Black-Robed Prophet?
What's that supposed to be?
At my puzzled head-tilt, Arthur let out a long sigh.
"Ah — right. I forgot. You have no friends."
'...Arthur?'
"Was that supposed to be an insult, Pitiful Prince♡? Are you picking a fight with me?"
"My apologies. A slip of the tongue. As penance, allow me to explain in your stead."
Apparently, the Black-Robed Prophet was the latest rumor making the rounds among the Academy's students.
Supposedly, if you wandered the town near the Academy around nightfall, you'd occasionally cross paths with a man dressed in black — and if you asked him about anything you wanted to know, he'd give you the answer.
You did have to pay an appropriate information fee, of course, but the accuracy of his answers was one hundred percent!
Depending on the situation, he'd even offer solutions to whatever was troubling you.
The moment I heard the whole story, I knew exactly what this rumor really was.
That's Nakrad.
What the hell is that bastard doing skulking around back alleys?
The seal on the evil god he serves isn't fully broken yet — if a subjugation force came for him, he'd drop dead on the spot.
Did the scrub piggy noble girl fail him or something, so now he's trying to build up his hand of cards? Even if it costs him his own neck?
Guess I really pissed him off, huh.
Mmm. Later, I should drag Karl and Alsaetin along and go mess that bastard up.
With Grandpa's detection abilities, finding him won't be hard at all.
"You claim you knew nothing of this rumor?! What are you, Lucy Aln? Does your keen insight reach not merely into dungeons, but across the Academy as well?!"
"Well, if it's Lady Aln, is that really so strange, Your Highness?"
"For her, perhaps not, but— ugh. Lucy Aln! Next time, deal with me fairly! Do you hear me?! Fairly!"
Um. Excuse me. I didn't know anything, okay?
I had zero idea what subjects would even be on that midterm.
The game doesn't exactly hand you a syllabus, you know.
If I'd actually known what was coming, do you think I would have been hyperventilating mid-exam going "my log! my log is gone!"?!
I just told her to do the very first thing you're supposed to do when leveling a mage character — it was pure coincidence that it happened to line up with the exam!
Stop expecting weird things from me!
'I seriously know nothing! I'm an idiot! Me!'
"My, my. Begging now, are we, Pitiful Prince♡? But I really don't know anything? Say whatever you like, Pitiful Prince — I've got nothing upstairs♡."
"Lies! Lucy Aln! Is it your intention to provide for none but those in your own circle?!"
I told you, I don't know ANYTHING!
Having narrowly shaken off Arthur — who clung to me begging me to share some information with him next time — I attended my classes at the Academy.
The midterm had only just ended, so nobody was really in the mood to focus, and the professors seemed to understand; they wrapped things up quickly and dismissed us early.
Which meant I had more free time than usual, and I headed straight for the back alleys of Academy Street.
After all, I'd left something behind at the manor.
— Hi there, hehe... Oh. What the—? It's just you?
The moment I set foot in the manor, Adri materialized, breaking into a bright smile — which curdled into a scowl the instant she got a look at my face.
Look, I get that you like Vishy more than me, but isn't this discrimination a bit extreme?
It's a good thing I'm so used to being treated like this. Anyone else would've been hurt!
I tried saying as much, but Adri just kept her face flat and curt, as if to say, oh great, this brat's running her mouth again.
Seriously, so unfair.
Did you forget who I am?! Do you really think you can just treat me however you like?!
Most people start trembling the moment they see my face, you know!
Am I really that scary of a person?!
— Enough. Why are you here?
'I came to keep you company.'
"I came to play with the lonely old hag, in case she dies all by herself of neglect♡?"
— Oh, really? Well, I'm not particularly lonely, so if I tell you to get lost, will you?
'Nope!'
"Why should I listen to a lonely old hag? I don't wanna♡."
— Haaah. Fine. Do whatever you want.
Watching Adri wave her hand in bored dismissal made me want to poke at her even more, but I restrained myself.
I had a job to do, after all.
Stepping past the grumbling ghost, I headed upstairs — and there it was, right where I'd all but tossed it in my rush to escape the manor last time: the sword.
— That what you came for?
'Yep.'
"Yeah, that's the one."
Karl's been buried in work as a professor lately, poor guy, so I figure I'd give it to him as a gift.
The sword he uses now isn't bad, but it's nothing compared to this one.
And above all — he's my loyal hound, self-declared and everything.
Just imagine how hard that tail of his is going to wag when he finds out I gave him a present.
— Careful with that. There's a wraith's curse woven into it, you know? You'd be fine, but an ordinary person who picked it up would die, cursed.
Just as I was agonizing over how on earth I was going to calm Karl down from all the groveling he was bound to do, Adri tossed the advice at me, curt as ever.
Ohhh. Was that... concern? For me?
All that "you're annoying" and "get lost," but deep down that's not what she was thinking after all?
Classic grandma who's lived alone for centuries — hopeless at actually talking to people.
It'd be so much nicer if she could just come out and say she was worried.
When I looked at Adri and grinned openly, she whipped her gaze away in a panic.
— I merely worried that fooling with it might spawn another calamity, that's all!
'Oh. Is that so?'
"But I didn't say anything? What's this, huh, old hag? Feeling guilty♡? Puhaha. Just like a socially inept lonely old hag would be. Want me to hold your hand? Or shall I give you a big hug instead? No need to be shy about it."
— Just GET OUT!
Watching the manor's belongings begin to float up one by one, I bolted for the exit as fast as my legs could carry me.
I probably wouldn't lose to Adri in a fight, but if the two of us went all out against each other, that manor would come crashing down around our ears.
Having made my emergency escape, I took the sword and set off toward the Church.
I knew perfectly well what curse was clinging to this blade.
It was a sword steeped in the lingering grudge of a holy knight who had made himself into a wraith in order to destroy other wraiths.
Whoever carried it would be consumed by hostility and hatred toward the undead.
If I remembered right, in the game it imposed a loss-of-control penalty the instant the wielder encountered a wraith enemy.
I couldn't exactly hand Karl a gift that was going to blow up in our faces someday, could I?
If he disappeared, who was going to protect me?!
Which meant the curse had to be purified in advance.
And conveniently, I was a VIP of the Church.
I'd had them purify the Curse of Agra twice now, so whatever they thought of me privately, they were more than happy to play the gracious hosts on the surface.
Removing a little curse from a sword would be handled cleanly, no question.
On my breezy way to the Church, I ran into a familiar face at its entrance.
'Saintess.'
"Well, if it isn't the Loser Saintess♡."
This is the first time I've seen her since the infirmary, isn't it?
How strange.
We used to bump into each other constantly back in the day.
Is it just my imagination?
Maybe we did cross paths and I simply failed to register it?
"Ah. Lady Aln. What business brings you to the Church today?"
'Yes, I was hoping to have this sword...'
"Yep. I need this sword's curse purified. Surely even this loser Church can manage that much♡."
"...Might I examine the sword for a moment?"
Is the most qualified person for the job offering to help?
If Phoebe does the purification herself, I can trust it completely.
I handed the sword over without a flicker of hesitation, and Phoebe studied it in silence for a long moment.
Taken in by the Church around the age when a child first learns sense, and raised from that day forward to be a Saintess, Phoebe's knowledge of anything related to the Church of the Main God was, frankly, abnormal in its depth.
This sword was no exception.
Its design was unmistakably that of the Church of the Main God.
More than that — it was a treasure granted only to those who attained the rank of chaplain commander.
Where in the world did she find something so old it should be called an antique rather than a relic of the modern Church?
And one engraved with a wraith's curse that had bored straight through its blessing, at that?
Unable to contain her curiosity, Phoebe posed the question, and Lucy answered with a breezy shrug, as if it were nothing at all.
"I cleared a dungeon under the guidance of the Loser Chief God♡, and this was my reward."
Under the Chief God's guidance?
Hearing that, Phoebe tore her eyes from the sword, lifted her head, and simply looked at Lucy for a long, quiet moment.
Again?
Is it always going to be you?