Academy Entrance Ceremony (4)

Oh, right. There was still this.

This was the biggest reason I'd clawed my way into Soul Academy in the first place, but whatever had just happened was so huge that I'd completely forgotten about it.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Even as I read the message window, I wasn't holding out much hope.

Think about it — if the Botched Chief God is connected to the system, then whatever this is is probably tied to the Botched Chief God too.

Why would the cheapskate who only gave his own apostle a single measly quest system hand out anything worthwhile just for clearing a first quest?

What?

No, hold on.

What?!

The new quest itself wasn't that surprising.

I never expected the entrance exam to be the end of the questline, after all.

But Appraisal. Appraisal was different.

The Appraisal skill existed in the game too.

Soul Academy pursued realism to an almost excessive degree, which meant item descriptions could flat-out lie.

NPCs even used it to scam players.

And that's where the 'Appraisal' skill came in.

The higher this skill's proficiency, the easier it became to uncover an item's true value.

In fact, among Soul Academy's items, there were some endgame-grade pieces you could only discover by maxing out Appraisal.

But how would this skill work in reality?

In the game, it just applied automatically whenever you hovered your mouse over an item.

I pulled out Ruel's Mace to test the skill and examined it, but nothing came to me.

Every other skill of mine had given off a distinct snap of sensation when it activated.

Was my proficiency simply too low? Or was there some other activation method?

I figured it might work like it did in plenty of other web novels, so I stared at Ruel's Mace and murmured, "Appraisal."

And a fresh message window appeared before me.

Ohh, so that's how it works?

Since I'd only just acquired the skill, my proficiency was too low to show a full description — but that's fine. Grinding fixes that.

This is amazing.

Botched Chief God!

You're finally giving me things I actually need?!

If you'd done this from the start, I never would have called you the Botched Chief God in the first place!

All right. Now we're talking!

From now on, I'll even add the honorific!

Botched Chief God, sir!

Thank you, sir!

Getting one of the skills I'd needed most made the gloominess from moments ago lift, if only a little.

Now, time to check the quest.

I'm sorry, what?

For a second I wondered if I'd really seen what I thought I'd seen, so I dry-washed my face and looked at the quest window again.

Needless to say, reality did not change.

I sincerely apologize, Botched Chief God.

I just added the honorific, but it seems I'll have to take it back.

No, wait — if I only remove the honorific, the word "sir" would feel wounded, so I'll take some other things back with it.

Hey! Botch! What the hell were you thinking when you made this?!

Favorability seventy?! Do you seriously think I can pull that off?!

Soul Academy has a favorability system.

You raise it by doing activities with romanceable NPCs, running NPC-related quests, giving gifts — that kind of thing — and as it climbs, your relationship deepens.

Even if you don't care about the story, you have to mind favorability, because a higher one grants extra stat bonuses when partying together.

But that's not the point right now, so let's set it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠aside.

To be specific about the numbers: a complete stranger with zero feelings either way sits at 40.

The lower it falls, the worse the relationship gets, and the higher it climbs, the closer you become.

So what does a favorability of 70 — the number this quest demands — actually mean?

The easiest way to put it: the level where you consider each other close friends.

The so-called ride-or-die besties.

The kind of friends who can talk about anything without a shred of hesitation.

In the game, that wasn't a particularly hard number to reach — but the situation is completely different now.

There is no way I could ever become that close with another human being!

I'm currently wondering whether I'll manage to make even ONE friend while living at Soul Academy, and now you're telling me to make TWO best friends within half a year?!

Make it make sense.

If you're going to assign something, give me a high-difficulty dungeon clear!

THAT I could somehow twist and contort my way through!

But this? This is impossible!

Botch. You're genuinely evil.

Getting into Soul Academy in Lucy's body was already a hellish mountain to climb, and now that I've conquered it, you hand me an even taller one?

Be honest. You just want to watch me die, don't you? Don't you?

Apostle, my ass. What the hell kind of apostle is this?

You just want to see me tormented to the brink, struggling and squirming.

You want to watch a little girl struggle until she cries, don't you, you sadistic excuse for a god?

Never. Never will things go the way you want.

Just wait and see.

No matter what hardship you throw at me, I will not break.

I'll survive by any means necessary — and then I'll come for your throat.

You seem to be resting easy because you're a god, but let me tell you something.

In Soul Academy, even gods can be killed.

I swear I'll make you regret every bit of torment you've put me through.

The mood that had improved, even slightly, plummeted straight back into the abyss.

Because it had gotten better first, only to fall again, the impact hit that much harder.

Deep down I'd resolved to survive no matter what it took, but reality was not so merciful.

What was the problem, you ask?

Everything was the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠problem.

The fact that everyone thought I was a rabid delinquent because of the reputation Lucy had built up.

The fact that the Mesugaki skill forced me to half-involuntarily draw aggro.

The fact that I couldn't even see other people's favorability values.

Thinking about it, the question "what's the problem?" was the wrong one to ask.

In this case, I should have asked what wasn't a problem. That would have been faster to find.

How to raise every character's favorability? Of course I have that memorized.

I'm a die-hard Soul Academy veteran, after all.

And yet. And yet.

Damn you, useless Lucy.

Damn you, useless Mesugaki skill!

"Lady Alrn."

At the sound of my name, I lowered my hand and looked up to find Joy's face, dead serious.

She'd even sent her usual entourage away to come talk to me alone — so she was genuinely angry.

"'Pitiable Prince'? What on earth do you mean by that?"

Oh. That part, huh?

Right — Joy has been friends with Arthur since childhood.

If she overheard me calling him the Pitiable Prince, of course she'd come to have words.

"Did you say ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠such a thing knowing the Third Prince's circumstances?"

Oh, I know them.

I don't know exactly how well you know Arthur, Joy, but you can't know him better than I do.

Not every character in Soul Academy has lived a calm, happy life.

Some, like Joy, have lived utterly untouched by misfortune, while a handful of others are living through an outright misery porn production.

Arthur is one of those.

The secret of his birth.

His mother's death.

His family's disregard.

The palace backstabbing and gossip.

After being ground down by misfortune after misfortune, Arthur came to pursue perfection with an almost obsessive intensity — he's one of the most tragic characters in all of Soul Academy.

And I had just called that poor soul the Pitiable Prince.

And I'd have to keep calling him that going forward.

Nope. I had no idea.

"Lady Airhead. Am I obligated to know the Pitiable Prince's personal circumstances?"

I knew everything, but I answered with a perfectly shameless denial.

If I admitted I'd known and mocked him anyway, I'd become genuinely irredeemable trash!

"If you didn't know, then why were you calling him that?"

Just felt like it.

"I merely call him that because he looks pitiable. The same way I call you that because you look like an airhead."

When I declared it so brazenly, Joy let out a sigh.

"Then please don't call him that anymore. Starting now."

You believe me when I say I bear no malice?

Well, that's a small mercy.

Because I saved her in that dungeon, it seems she doesn't think I'm such a terrible person after all.

But I couldn't grant her request.

Believe me, I don't want to call Arthur the Pitiable Prince either!

Why should I?

"Why would I have to, Lady Airhead?"

"That's... not something I can tell you."

Figured as much.

Arthur's circumstances aren't something anyone else can reveal — only he himself can.

The reason I'd asked "why" in the first place was precisely to hear this answer.

It's the only way I can keep brazening it out.

If you won't tell me the reason...

"Then I'll simply keep calling him the Pitiable Prince."

"No—"

Farewell, then...

"Goodbye, Lady Airhead. I'll be off."

As I turned my back and walked away, I heard Joy fuming behind me.

But I didn't look back.

I'm supposed to be doing favorability grinding, and instead I can't stop it from tanking.

I'm not usually a sentimental person, but I swear I'm about to cry.

'Tell me about it. Honestly, it's a blessing I have a grandpa around.'

Until now, I'd never realized just how grateful I'd be to have someone I could talk to freely.

'Let's not talk about that.'

'That "divine" is about to get my head lopped off right now, in case you hadn't noticed?!'

It was only lucky that Arthur was a man with neither succession rights nor political backing.

Imagine if I'd spat something like that at the Second Prince or the First Prince.

I could have hauled off for blasphemy, no questions asked!

Hold on. Wasn't the Second Prince currently enrolled at Soul Academy?

If I ever ran into him and called him by his nickname...

No. Absolutely not.

I'll steer clear of him at all costs.

I'm not going anywhere near the second-year classrooms, either.

The moment I opened the door to Class A of the first year, my assigned homeroom at Soul Academy, every eye in the room snapped to me.

Mostly wariness. Mostly distaste.

The "he's in MY class?" kind of stare.

At this rate, whoever ends up assigned the seat next to mine might just burst into tears.

But among them, there were a few stares of a different flavor entirely.

The saintess who had deigned to speak to me even after hearing all my filthy language gave me a knowing smile,

the Third Prince was glaring at me with open hostility,

and Joy's entourage were furrowing their brows in my direction, muttering something under their breaths.

I couldn't make out their words, but I could guess the content.

A tribunal, no doubt, over the fact that I'd dared to saddle their precious Joy with the insulting nickname "Airhead Lady."

Wherever I looked, I could see it plainly — everyone's favorability was scraping the bottom of the barrel.

"Um, excuse me."

Wow. This is genuinely bleak.

Where am I even supposed to start the damage control?

First, let me pick out the two characters whose favorability was easiest to grind in the game, and—

'Me?'

Following the old man's words, I turned my head to find a girl standing there, just a bit taller than me.

Black hair tied back and swept over her shoulder, she was staring at my face with calm, listless red eyes.

The next Sword Saint of the kingdom.

Why on earth is Frey Kent trying to talk to me?

Uh oh. I'm not so sure about this one.

"Fight me."