Break Time Before Vacation (2)
"Ehehe♡ Look at you, sprawled on the floor panting like a dog♡ Doesn't it make you hate yourself?♡ You've got worse stamina than a girl half a head shorter than you — that's just not possible, you know♡ You've failed as a man before you even failed as a prince♡ Should I start calling you 'Princess' from now on?♡ Loser little Pitiful Princess♡"
I threw out the taunt hoping to goad Arthur up off the floor, but his body refused to rise.
The arm braced against the ground was still trembling — clearly his body wasn't taking orders from his pride anymore.
So I turned my head toward Phoebe instead, and she shook hers.
"If we force him up any more than this, it'll do real damage."
Hmm. Really? That's strange. When I trained back at House Aln, we drilled way harder than this.
Because Forsell never once cared about the limits of my body. Back when I was being whipped into shape for my life, I once passed out mid-session moving alongside Forsell — and when I opened my eyes again, I was in bed.
Compared to that, this much should be nothing, shouldn't it?
She is a girl. As I always say, you cannot measure others by your own standard.
"Is that so? I mean, everyone should be able to handle at least this much."
It's not like I started from anything special. I simply took a trash-tier body, restored it to normal with divinity, and then trained relentlessly.
Other than that, all I did was crawl through hell after hell to raise my level.
True to my veteran status, I planned out the build and executed it — but the process itself was nothing but effort, effort, and more effort.
If even I, who fell into a fantasy world from the modern one, can push through this much, shouldn't Arthur — the certified genius of Soul Academy — manage even better?
It's not like he's starting from zero the way I did.
Let me speak as someone who once trained many talented knights. You are a special case.
"If you say so."
I didn't fully understand, but if Grandpa was going this far, and Phoebe — the expert on healing, no less — was saying the same thing, then letting Arthur rest was probably the right call.
"Let's take a break, Arthur."
"Guess there's nothing for it. The Pitiful Prince is apparently both weak and pathetic, after all. Go ahead and rest like the worm you are."
"...Lucyyy!"
Arthur raised his voice at the Mesugaki skill's taunt, but it wasn't scary at all.
Shouting while twitching on the floor just made him look ridiculous.
I figured I'd laugh out loud if I kept watching him, so I looked elsewhere.
Wherever I looked, there wasn't a single person standing intact.
Frey was battered and torn from sparring with me over and over, Joy was grinding through drills squeezing out mana she didn't have, and Phoebe — though she'd left herself just enough divinity to treat Arthur — was running on fumes as well.
Well, it had been roughly eight hours since we started training at the crack of dawn. Of course everyone was worn out.
Personally, I wanted to keep moving, but I'd just been told that applying my standards to other people was cruel. Hmm.
'Everyone!...'
"Losers! That's it for today!"
When I raised my voice, every gaze in the place swung toward me.
And the emotion written in those gazes was unmistakably bewilderment.
What now? I was being considerate of you all and saying let's rest.
Why aren't you happy about it — why are you just blinking at me?
In the sudden silence, the first to move was Frey.
She hurried over to me, pressed a hand against my forehead, and tilted her head.
"No fever."
'I'm perfectly fine, thank you.'
"Dumb swordsman. Do those stupid eyes of yours see me as sick or something?"
"But if you weren't sick, Lucy would never say let's rest."
At Frey's deadpan remark, everyone nodded. Even Arthur, still sprawled on the floor.
...Yeah, I get a very clear picture of what my image is with you people.
Fine. If that's what you want, so be it. I'll just have to become the person you all think I am.
So — Frey would spar with me, and Joy, drained of mana, could do conditioning drills with Arthur...
"Oh, perfect timing. There's actually somewhere I've been wanting us all to go together."
Just as I was plotting a regimen that would keep grinding them until they begged for mercy, Joy sensed the ominous atmosphere and spoke up in a hurry.
"Where is it, Joy?"
"A truly wonderful bakery."
And on top of that, Phoebe got herself added to the schedule.
"Wow. Dessert. Sounds delicious."
Meanwhile Frey, who had nimbly retreated to my side a moment ago, latched onto the other two and spoke in a completely hollow voice.
"Then allow me to cover the bill."
Arthur, staggering to his feet, brought the conversation to a close.
And then all four of them openly looked at me.
As if to say — surely you're not going to demand more training now, are you?
Come on! Do it like that and I'm the one who looks like the bad guy!
I'm the one who suggested resting in the first place!
Ugh, this is infuriating. Are you seriously so oblivious that you'd force my hand into being a tyrant?
If I really threw my weight around, steamrolling that entire conversation would be easy.
Easy, yes.
...But I can't do that.
This was a chance to eat sweets with those key characters from Soul Academy and just chat like ordinary students.
How could someone like me — so obsessed with that game I rotted into a hardcore veteran — ever pass up an opportunity like this!
'Sure, let's go. To the bakery.'
"Airhead Lady. If the bread's as airheaded as you are, I'm not letting it slide. Remember that."
"Hehe. Then I'll put House Partran's honor on the line."
Just as Joy had so confidently promised, the bakery she led us to was a place I knew well.
The place you could run into a poorly disguised Airhead Lady if you visited on a Soul Academy weekend.
In other words, it was the bakery the Airhead Lady loved most in all the world.
Wow. I'd once thought about how I'd love to come here with Joy someday — but I never imagined Joy would be the one to invite me first!
A little disappointing it wasn't just the two of us, but the rowdy atmosphere suited me fine too.
Best of all, this was somewhere I could keep coming back to with Joy in the future!
While I was buzzing around examining the interior, a server brought over a selection of breads.
Nobody had ordered anything, so judging by how naturally they arrived, these must be the breads Joy always orders.
The first to reach for the bread — still steaming, fresh out of the oven moments ago — was Arthur.
That's a croissant. Just from the golden-brown crust alone, you could tell it was expertly made.
The moment Arthur bit into it, the crisp sound of the crust shattering filled the table.
He swallowed his first bite with a placid face, then nodded with a faint smile.
"Not bad at all."
"Not bad?"
"...I said it was extraordinarily delicious."
"That's more like it."
While those two traded banter, I reached for the bread as well.
My choice was the same as Arthur's — a croissant.
Watching him eat had made it look absolutely delicious.
What would the bread taste like at the bakery that Joy — a ducal lady who'd sampled countless gourmet delights — always declared the very best?
With my heart pounding, I bit into the croissant — and couldn't help but open my eyes wide.
The crispness of the crust I had anticipated.
But the softness of the crumb beyond it I had not.
The bread melted away in my mouth, and right behind it came the rich nuttiness of butter, flooding my whole palate.
A delicate sweetness. A pleasant, toasty aroma. Just a whisper of salt.
Not a single element wanting.
Ahh. It's confirmed. This is the best bread I've ever eaten in my life.
Coming back to my senses, I opened my mouth to take another bite — and was startled to find my hand completely empty.
Huh? Where did the bread go?
It was in my hand just a second ago?!
"Lady Aln? How is it? Did you enjoy it?"
Had I really just inhaled the bread without noticing?
Joy had been watching me with a warm, contented smile.
Ugh. It's annoying when the Airhead Lady gets smug, but I couldn't deny it.
'It was insanely delicious!'
"Hmm. Well. For a place recommended on the airheaded taste buds of an Airhead Lady, it's not bad."
"Hehe. Right?"
Given the Mesugaki skill's brusque response, I'd expected her to snap back at me — but Joy simply smiled.
What's this? I thought she'd give me an earful like she did Arthur.
"What's the meaning of this? Why so generous toward Lucy Aln alone?"
Arthur, apparently bothered by the same thing, grumbled at her, but Joy only squared her shoulders and answered proudly.
"Because watching Lady Aln is heartwarming, Your Highness the Third Prince — and watching you is not."
So just watching me eat happily is heartwarming, huh. Well, I am basically a doll of a girl so long as my mouth stays shut.
The problem is that every time I open it, a disaster breaks out.
Arthur seemed unable to argue that point either, and just grumbled as he picked up more bread.
After that, everyone was too busy eating to talk.
We had spent eight solid hours writhing on the ground since morning, after all.
Anything would have tasted good in that state — and with flavors of the absolute highest tier laid out before us, how could anyone hold back?
Only after we'd tactically demolished our starving stomachs did we finally regain some composure.
Watching us refresh ourselves with fragrant tea, Phoebe chuckled softly and ventured, "You all must have had it rough, hmm?"
"O Holy Saintess. You have watched us these past days — surely you know. That brutal training could hardly be anything but agonizing."
At the sight of Arthur pouring out his grievances — complaining that lately, the moment he returned to the dorm, he could do nothing but sleep — Phoebe gave a wry smile.
"Well, once vacation starts in a few days, you'll finally get to rest, won't you?"
'Nope. No rest for him.'
"What'd you say, Loser Saintess? If the Pitiful Prince rests during vacation, his pathetic self will only get even more pathetic."
Arthur is meant to become a magic swordsman beyond anything I am.
Did they really think I'd permit him to laze around and settle for being a mediocre one?!
"...Pardon?"
"What I mean is, his vacation is already planned out. He won't be resting. O Holy Saintess."
"That's..."
Of course, I have my own obligations over the break, so I can't keep surveillance on Arthur the whole time.
Which means it'll have to rest on Arthur's conscience.
But it'll probably be fine. The boy's pride is that strong. Arthur is not the type to allow himself a half-hearted rest.
Best of all, I've already warned him that if he's still a loser by second semester, I'll work him to the bone. He'll manage on his own.
Phoebe blinked helplessly at the newly gloomy Arthur, at a loss for what to say, then turned her gaze toward Joy.
"Joy? What will you do over the vacation?"
"Me? I don't really have any plans. I'll be heading back to my family's estate first, of course."
Joy said this, then glanced my way.
What? Got something to say?
"...I'll probably be juggling studies and training, I suppose."
Since she didn't say anything else, I guess I was imagining it.
"And Lady Kent?"
Even after Phoebe asked, Frey — who hadn't stopped eating bread for a single moment — kept chewing for a long while before finally opening her mouth.
"Training. Me too."
With that brutally blunt answer, she tossed another piece of bread into her mouth.
This isn't really mine to say, but Frey — the person you're talking to is a saintess. Isn't that a bit rude?
For all I know, your reputation could end up in the gutter like mine?
...Ah, right, she wouldn't care about that at all. She's always been her own woman.
"And Lady Aln?"
The question Phoebe raised eventually circled back to me.
What would I do over vacation? I had a few plans lined up.
About two were absolute musts; the rest were more of a take-it-or-leave-it variety.
But one thing was set in stone.
'I'm going to clear a dungeon.'
"We're going to blow a pathetic dungeon to pieces."