Proving Worth (4)

I had already anticipated that the Second Prince would resort to something petty and underhanded. If anything, I'd been wondering why he'd stayed quiet for so long — the guy I knew would do anything if it meant beating me.

But I never expected him to come at me like this.

No matter how badly he wanted to win against me, this crossed a line, didn't it?

Fine. I'll grant him his win-at-all-costs mentality. Whatever.

But hey, listen up. You forgot the single most important thing, you absolute moron!

Your whole goal was to recruit me in the first place! If you pull this kind of garbage, why on earth would I ever want to come to your side?! You brain-dead excuse for a prince!

<...Is he even more of an idiot than I believed? Or is he simply too incompetent to manage his own subordinates?>

'I'm going with both, actually.'

<No, come now. The man ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠received a prince's education. It cannot be so.>

Grandpa tried to deny reality in the face of a scene that defied all common sense, but denying it didn't change what was right in front of my eyes.

These men sprawled across the alleyway had clearly come to interfere with me.

'Haah.'

<Haah.>

As Grandpa and I sighed in perfect exasperated unison, Karia let out a dry little laugh.

"Back when I served the kingdom, he was such a sweet young thing. It seems Lady Bedford's education didn't take, hmm?"

Her words pinpointed the problem with surgical accuracy.

After all, the person who had shaped the Second Prince's character more than anyone else was that very Duchess of Bedford.

But it no longer mattered.

Having written off her own son as a failure she herself had ruined, she surely didn't hold a shred of expectation for him anymore.

The same would go for recruiting me, then.

"Be careful, Boss. Seeing him go this far, there's no telling what he might try next. I don't expect anything ordinary to put you in danger, but there's always a first time."

Karia's warning proved dead-on. In the days that followed, obstruction after obstruction came my way in one form or another.

It started small — my training equipment mysteriously vanishing — and escalated to an attempted break-in at my dormitory while I was away.

Any thought of recruiting me had clearly been flung clean out of the Second Prince's head.

Otherwise, he would never have committed such lunacy.

At first, I'd been willing to laugh it off, seeing as I was the one who'd picked a fight with him so openly. But as these incidents piled up one after another, my temper began to curdle.

And so time flowed on until the day the Academy Dungeon's gates finally opened. When I woke that morning, only a single thought filled my mind.

Putting that Second Prince bastard in his place, once and for all.

Think about it — a mesugaki, the very creature born to educate others, getting educated herself? That's not just humiliation as a man. That's the worst humiliation possible as a human being.

For the perverted pedophile freak who'd thrown every filthy trick in the book at me just to beat me, it would be a perfectly fitting punishment.

Since even the pathetic Chief God clearly wants him put down, how could I, His appointed Apostle, fail to carry out His will with diligence?

At first I'd wondered if the Chief God was trying to get me assassinated. Not anymore. The Chief God had simply foreseen the resolve I would come to hold.

Ah, Armadi! I believe in You!

Finishing my light morning prayers, I rose from bed and stretched. There was still time before the dungeon gates opened, so I'd use it to warm my body up.

I needed to hit full speed from the very first step if I wanted to clear the dungeon before the Academy Dungeon sealed itself shut again.

Going through my usual routine, I headed to the training grounds — where Frey was already waiting for me. She'd been dozing off leaning against her sword, but sensing my presence, she lifted her head and offered a perfectly flat greeting.

"We're doing the dungeon today, right?"

'That's the plan.'

"Good. I'm curious just how flimsy the flimsy dungeon made by the ultra-pathetic Academy will be."

"Same party as usual?"

Party? What party? I'm going in alone today.

Mid-thought, I realized I'd never actually told anyone about that part.

'I'm going in by myself today.'

"Clearing a pathetic excuse for a dungeon like that? I'm more than enough on my own."

"Lady Aln?! What on earth are you saying?!"

When I turned around, I met Joy's horrified eyes and understood that this conversation was not going to end easily.

Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure.

Nearly every report that reached Cecil's hands ended on that single word.

They had attempted every manner of interference against Lucy Aln, and every single scheme had failed to affect her in the slightest. That was the conclusion of nearly all of them.

The subordinates who led the operations had insisted that the mental strain they'd inflicted would at least leave her in poor condition for the dungeon run, but even Cecil didn't find that particularly convincing.

Still, he let it pass. Accountability for the failures could be collected later.

There was something far more important at hand.

Specifically: a few days ago, Cecil had obtained a map of the Academy Dungeon.

By leveraging his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠extensive connections to win over a professor inside the Academy, he had acquired a map containing everything there was to know about the Academy Dungeon — the layout of its structure, which monsters appeared on which floors, the distinctive features of each stratum,

and, crucially, the methods for defeating the bosses that blocked a challenger's path every ten floors.

Oh, how Cecil had rejoiced when he first held it in his hands.

With this. With this alone.

He could clear the Academy Dungeon by the shortest route possible.

He could defeat Lucy Aln.

He could accomplish what even his elder brother had failed to do.

I could surpass my brother.

The First Prince.

I could defeat the opponent I had never once beaten in my entire life.

"Everyone."

Standing before the gates of the Academy Dungeon, Cecil surveyed the faces of those who would accompany him today.

Every one of them boasted combat strength in the very top tier of the Academy's current second-years — veterans who had roamed beyond the Academy's walls at Cecil's side, clearing dungeon after dungeon. Warriors who, once knighted, would surely carve their names into battlefield history.

"Are you ready?"

Seeing the confident smiles etched on his party members' lips, he nodded in satisfaction and turned his gaze forward once more.

Cecil had prepared thoroughly for this single moment.

By defeating Lucy Aln. By shattering the fastest record the First Prince had ever set.

To prove his competence.

To erase his incompetence.

"Move out."

"You don't need to spare a thought for us, Lady Aln. We're not so weak that joining this contest would put us at a disadvantage."

"Indeed, Lucy Aln. You have granted me much as I have grown until now; humoring a little sibling's tantrum is well within my power."

"I don't really get it, but I think so too."

When they heard I intended to tackle the Academy alone, Joy and Arthur had apparently interpreted my decision as consideration for them.

They thought I was shouldering everything myself to keep them from getting entangled with the Second Prince and suffering for it.

I had never once thought that way.

I chose to go alone purely because it was convenient — and somehow that had bred this whole misunderstanding.

Once people had made up their minds, persuading them otherwise was an uphill battle. No matter how I explained it, every word came out sounding like an excuse to hide my true motive.

"Since when have you ever cared about others, pray tell?!"

"That's right. Please just act like you always do, my lady."

'No, I'm serious!'

"Why ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠can't you people just take a hint? Do you honestly think losers like you would be any help to me? Your self-esteem isn't just high — it's punching the sky."

"Ha. Stubborn to the very end."

"I understand that you're trying to protect us, my lady, but..."

"Right, right. And I want to go into the dungeon with you too."

That said, I didn't exactly hate the process of being persuaded.

Because I knew their misunderstanding had sprung from genuine affection toward me.

If these two didn't think well of me, they would never have volunteered to brave the Second Prince's ire just to help me.

Frey? She couldn't care less whether the Second Prince hates her or not. She just wants to go into the dungeon with me.

Ever since that pathetic swordsman got promoted to full-blown idiot swordsman in our last bout, she's been trailing me with almost unsettling devotion. Of course she'd want to clear the dungeon together too.

In the end, I barely managed to convince my friends by promising to call for help if I ran into real trouble — and with that, I successfully entered the Academy Dungeon alone.

The very first thing I felt stepping into the dungeon was the cold. The chill seeping through the gaps in my armor pierced my skin and bit down to the bone, so I wrapped my divinity around myself like a cloak. The warmth of the sun that divinity carried drove the cold away as naturally as morning chases off night, and even in the dead of winter's heart, I could feel cozy and warm.

Then I looked around and took in the scenery: an endless field of snow, with no clear boundary anywhere — nothing but white stretching on and on, as far as the eye could see.

Well then. Locating the frozen trees had pinned down my current position, so orientation was complete.

Time to run.

As I loosened up my body with that thought, Grandpa called out to me.

<Hey now, lass.>

'Yes?'

<Are you certain 'twas not, in truth, consideration for those young folk?>

Oh come on, even you, Grandpa? I've been telling you forever that going in alone is easier! You think a political disaster like me is going to fret over earning the Second Prince's hatred or whatever?! No!

<No, but hear me out. A dungeon is easier to clear the more people you have — that much be true, no?>

'Well, sure, that's true.'

<And yet thou wouldst insist on going in alone. One can hardly help but think 'tis for another's sake.>

'...Hnngh. Well, about that.'

Numbers are a weapon in and of themselves.

In fact, back when I played Soul Academy the game, aside from challenge runs, I always traveled with a full party.

Even for speedruns, more bodies was generally the better call.

The real reason I chose to go alone was simple: I was about to perform a great many outlandish, absurd stunts — and I had no desire to explain a single one of them to anybody.

'It's hard to explain in words, Grandpa. You'll see with your own eyes soon enough.'

By the time our conversation wound down, I had finished layering my buffs and deliberately made some noise as I charged forward.

Before long, a sound of the ground trembling came from far away, drawing closer — something had sensed my presence and was heading this way.

And what emerged was a Yeti.

A monster known as the Ruler of the Snowfields.

Its signature crushing strength was said to rival even an average ogre's — hardly the kind of enemy you'd expect to meet on Floor 1.

So why was a thing like this here?

The Academy hadn't blundered again. This was simply the design philosophy of the second-semester dungeon itself.

The Academy's second-semester dungeon was a place built to expose challengers to all manner of gimmicks — a dungeon meant to teach you how to overcome obstacles that could not be conquered by ordinary means.

This Yeti was no exception.

It wasn't thrown in there to be killed. It was placed there to be avoided — a wall you were meant to slip past on your way to the exit.

By any legitimate strategy guide, the correct play was to evade the Yeti and find the way out.

I did not do that.

Kuuoooohh!

Instead, shield raised high, I charged straight at the Yeti — straight at its swinging fist.

<Lass?!>

And in the very instant the Yeti's fist was about to connect, I activated a scroll I'd prepared in advance.

The magic sealed inside ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it: a Featherweight spell.

What it lightened was my own mass. Under the spell's effect, my body grew as weightless as if I'd stepped onto the moon — and the sheer mass behind the Yeti's fist sent me flying, launching me up into empty air.

'Because most of what I'm about to do works exactly like this!'

This was my shortest route.

The Rotten Water Speedrun Method.