Conquering the Academy Dungeon (1)
"The Headmaster asked me to deliver this to you, my lady."
It was the day after we'd tormented Nakrad and chased him off.
Karl, who had come looking for me early in the morning, produced a small box from inside his coat and handed it over with both hands.
There was only one gift the Academy would be handing out at this point in the semester.
The reward given to the top performers of Soul Academy.
"I'm told there's an Elixir inside."
The prize for placing first in the entire academy was an Elixir. The type changed depending on which classes the recipient took, so in my case, it would no doubt be an Elixir of Strength and Stamina.
Under normal circumstances, this would be the foundation for rapid early growth in the Academy, but for the current me, it was about as useful as a pile of rocks. Less than a year had passed since I'd chugged my three Elixirs, after all.
That said, it was still an undeniably precious item, and there was no reason on earth to refuse a reward. Into the Inventory it went, for now.
Some use would turn up eventually. Worst case, I'd just down the thing in a few months and be done with it.
Having delivered the reward, Karl ought to have gone back to his duties — instead, he stood there fidgeting, stealing glances at my face.
What's wrong with him?
"What is it?"
"Noob. What's the matter with you?"
"It's... about yesterday, my lady. I was lacking, and so I made a mistake. Had I been even a little stronger, we would never have let him escape."
"So that's why I said I don't care?"
"Maybe go clean your ears out, you filthy noob. I told you it doesn't bother me."
We had thoroughly bullied Nakrad yesterday, sure — but in the end, we'd failed to actually hunt him down.
It couldn't be helped. Once someone holding the Authority of Darkness set his mind to fleeing, there was no reliable means of running him down. Even in the game, Nakrad couldn't be killed until you obtained the Staff That Grips the Shadows.
Now that the game had become reality, the same naturally held true.
Besides, the plan had been to rough him up a bit and then drive him off from the start. Yesterday's showing had been more than satisfying for me.
Nakrad, screaming in pure frustration, face flushed crimson with no possible countermeasure, fleeing into the night — that alone had blasted away every ounce of stress I'd been carrying.
So there wasn't the slightest reason for an apology, but Karl still seemed to have it gnawing at him.
"Ahh. As expected of you, my lady. Truly, your mercy knows no bounds!"
That's not it — I'm telling you it's genuinely fine.
A knight overflowing with a sense of duty is all well and good, but shouldn't he at least pretend to listen to his master?
My friend back home used to keep a chihuahua that obeyed better than this guy does.
You damnable knight!
Left alone, he'd clearly just keep digging himself deeper, so I steered the conversation elsewhere.
And I happened to have the perfect topic ready.
"Hey, listen..."
"Noob. Why didn't you bring the sword I gave you yesterday?"
"Ah, that item? I hung it up in my quarters."
...What?
"How could I ever dare to use a gift from you, my lady? What if it were damaged in battle?"
No.
"For now I've purchased a glass display case to house it, but later I intend to lay preservation magic over it as well, and—"
"Why are you displaying it like a trophy?!"
"You hopeless noob-dog! I gave it to you to USE!"
"But, my lady—"
Buts and howevers can go straight to hell!
That's a genuinely good item, you know!
Even in the game, its performance carried you well into the late game!
It's not even comparable to the sword you're swinging around right now!
So why aren't you using it?!
Is it because it came from the person you adore, so you plan to treasure it until the day you die?
Why are you doing your fangirling over your own master, you absolute dog?!
Words came boiling up from somewhere deep in my gut like they'd gone mad, but spitting them out felt like it would be a point of no return, so I pressed them down hard, wiping my face with one hand.
Then, with a long sigh, I delivered my verdict to Karl.
"Later..."
"Noob. I'll put a collar on you later, so go treasure that instead. Use the sword."
"Truly?! If you would grant me that, I could ask for nothing more!"
Watching Karl beam with the pure, sunny delight of a child handed a puppy, I couldn't quite shake the feeling that something, somewhere, had gone terribly wrong.
Was he always like this?
Or did he only turn this way after meeting me?
Definitely the former. Otherwise there'd be no explaining how he could brag about something so deranged with a straight face.
I watched Karl skip off with a spring in his step, then collapsed onto a nearby bench and heaved a long, long sigh.
Exhausting.
I hadn't even done anything, yet I felt more drained than after an all-night dungeon clear.
So this is what it feels like to own a large dog that does whatever it wants.
"Lady Alrn?"
The voice reached me as I slumped there lamenting my lot, and I turned my head.
It was Phoebe.
She stood before me wearing a smile so awkward that anyone could tell something was off.
She'd never once come looking for me first before. What business could she have?
"What is it?"
"What's up, no-good Saintess?"
"Ah. Um. It's about the Field Trip parties."
What could Phoebe possibly have to worry about regarding the Field Trip?
Anyone who's ever touched an RPG knows this, but a cleric who can heal and buff will never have trouble finding a party.
Every party needs at least one, while the absolute number of clerics is tiny — the moment anyone spots a cleric, they fall over themselves begging her to join theirs.
And this law applied just as absolutely within the Academy.
Not that many clerics enroll at Soul Academy, yet every single party wants one. Reality only makes it worse.
How desperately would you crave someone who could patch you up the moment you got hurt? In a world where people schemed and groveled just to snag an ordinary cleric, Phoebe — exceptional even among clerics — went without saying.
Noble isn't a strong enough word for her. A king. No, a god, is what she deserved to be called.
Should she wish it, she could walk into any party and recruit any member she pleased — the Goddess of the Field Trip.
What, isn't a tank with god-tier aggro skills who out-damages the actual dealers rare and precious?
It is.
If this were a game, my priority would've ranked higher than even the Saintess's.
But this isn't a game, is it?
Reputation matters enormously here.
During a four-day, three-night Field Trip you're stuck with your party members around the clock — who in their right mind would want to spend that glued to someone whose reputation is six feet under?
Even I'd pass on that.
Phoebe, though, is different.
Loved by everyone, young and old, man and woman alike, Phoebe is infinitely free from this whole problem.
No — with a personality that pure, she practically collects bonus points. The possibility of Phoebe struggling to assemble a party simply does not exist.
So why was she talking to me?
"Have you settled on your party members, my lady?"
"Roughly, yeah."
"Roughly means it's settled, then."
Joy had been set on partying with me from the start, and Frey — friendless, just like me — had naturally drifted into my party as well.
Which left exactly one seat open. That was the problem.
Originally, I'd meant to ask Arthur.
Someone capable of switching between vanguard and rear guard was too valuable to pass up.
But the moment the words left my mouth, I got shot down. Something about how partying with me would mean he could never defeat me.
Watching Arthur declare that this Field Trip would finally be the stage for his victory over me, all I could do was tilt my head.
Back in the game, Arthur had never been this hot-blooded a character.
Whether it was good or bad, it counted as a positive change — but there was a worrying side to it too.
If he made me his rival, one day his spirit would break.
No matter how capable Arthur was, there was no way he could beat me. How exactly did he plan to overcome a veteran who'd poured tens of thousands of hours into this game?
Later, if I spotted the telltale signs of him spiraling into darkness, I'd have to deliberately throw a match or something.
Though if he caught on that I'd thrown it, wouldn't he get even angrier?
Well. Anyway. After Arthur's rejection, my chosen replacement had been Vishy.
She'd apparently already decided to form a party with her friends, but that's not my problem, is it?
I'm her benefactor AND the one holding her darkest secret — I may as well be her lord and master. When your slave is told to crawl, she crawls. Nobody asked for her personal circumstances.
Avery?
Yeah... about her.
I had no real objection to ordering her around, but spending four days and three nights with her was, on a human level, a bit much.
I am an enormously kind and generous person, it's true — but keeping someone who used to trash-talk me behind my back at my side? Hard pass.
"I only ask on the off chance — would it be alright if I joined your party, Lady Alrn?"
"...I'm sorry, what?"
"Hm?"
I asked her to repeat herself, half-convinced my ears were playing tricks, and Phoebe flinched at the shoulders before finding her voice again.
"I would like to become a member of your party, Lady Alrn."
Phoebe? Why?
She's someone who could join any party she wanted. It's not as if she's the type obsessed with competition, either — she could have lounged comfortably in some easygoing, mid-tier party, coasting on pleasant grades and pleasant company.
I genuinely couldn't understand why she'd come begging to me specifically.
Ah. It's because of Joy, isn't it?
Has to be. Phoebe and Joy are best friends.
If she asked so she could stay by Joy's side, that made perfect sense.
"Would I... not be welcome?"
"Of course you can join!"
"You asked so nicely, there's no way I could say no, no-good Saintess."
A Tier-1 healer joining the party — what possible reason would I have to refuse?!
She's a godsend, obviously!
Phoebe is taking the slot that would've gone to Vishy, the dead weight I was keeping purely to fill out the headcount!
It doesn't even break the party chemistry. Joy will throw a welcome parade the moment she hears, and Phoebe has the mental fortitude to put up with whatever nonsense Frey and I get up to.
Who knew winning over the Airhead Lady's heart would pay off like this!
Let me use this opportunity to farm some favorability with Phoebe over the Field Trip.
We both channel Divinity, after all — build enough common ground and we could get genuinely close.
Phoebe is one of the easier ones to push to Favorability 70, so if I played my cards right, hitting 70 within the Field Trip itself might actually be doable.
Pull that off, and I don't just clear the Heojeop Chief God's quest — I get a dedicated healer for the party as a bonus!
Alright. My plan for this Field Trip had been to coast and just snatch first place, but plans have changed.
Time to grit my teeth and go all in.
Shall I go ahead and break the Academy record while I'm at it?
"Then I look forward to working with you."
"Likewise!"
"Yes. No-good Saintess. Do try not to be the noob dragging us down by the ankles."
"Ahaha. I'll do my best."
I was still laughing pleasantly as we exchanged farewells when a single thought flashed through my head.
I can use the Saintess as a party member now, can't I.
Which means I can run the exact same exploit I used to clear the Soul Academy Dungeon back in my gaming days.
"Hey, Phoebe?"
"No-good Saintess. Are you free this Saturday?"
"Hm? I have nothing pressing. I can make time if needed."
Well, well.
Perfect timing, honestly.
I'd been meaning to finish clearing the Soul Academy Dungeon anyway.
Let's wrap it up this week, then.
I smiled as I laid out the plan in my head — and Phoebe flinched hard and took a step back.
What's her deal?
Was my smile weird just now?