Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: The Original Troll Appears (5)
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The one and only reading club at Kingswell Royal Academy, Let's Read Books.
I'd heard it was a venerable old club that had kept its flame alive for ages, but that was none of my concern.
The real reason I signed up for this dull outfit that couldn't even fill its spots wasn't just impatience on my part.
'Gotta hit the books.'
It just so happened I was bombing every single lecture class at the academy, unable to keep up with the notes.
Even racking my brains desperately, the original Leonard apparently hadn't cared much for studying either—only history and society classes showed any glimmer of progress.
Not that I could expect diligence from a guy who hadn't even properly trained at what he was best at: swinging a sword around.
Hoping he'd buckled down on academics might've been asking too much to begin with.
"Charlotte. How're your lecture grades holding up?"
"Lecture grades?"
The day after finally wrapping up the club application ordeal.
During lunch, as I strolled by the fountain in front of the main building, I asked Charlotte just that.
"Yeah."
"Lectures... Well, I pour my blood, sweat, and tears into them every day, dreaming of that bright future where my grades finally climb onto the upward track..."
"So, not great."
"Crispy critter..."
And as expected, Charlotte's lecture scores weren't anything to write home about.
She'd probably scraped by on the written entrance exam, too.
Kingswell weighted practical skills heavily in admissions, after all.
"...Don't poke at my sore spots."
My guess must've hit the mark, because Charlotte puffed out her cheeks and prodded my side repeatedly.
"Ow."
"Hmph."
Grumbling, Charlotte plopped down on the bench.
I quietly settled in beside her.
A few passing students shot glances our way but didn't dare approach outright.
"Isn't that Blackmere?"
"And that commoner girl from before."
"Whoa... Is the sun rising in the west?"
"He'll ditch her once he gets bored, bet."
Or maybe not.
They pretended not to notice while tossing barbs as they passed—real pros at it.
I was still on the outs, sure, but the key was it wasn't dragging Charlotte down.
Seemed like she was being seen as the "poor commoner girl obsessed over by the Blackmere wastrel."
Better than her getting picked on as my lackey, at least.
"Charlotte Taylor, miss? Is that you?"
"Huh?"
But that didn't mean it sparked zero backlash.
A sudden shadow fell over us. Turning, I saw the massive Saintess of Compassion, Celestina, peering down with her hands politely clasped.
She flicked a glance my way like I was some bug, then gently placed a hand on Charlotte's shoulder.
"If some shameless thug ever shows up to harass you, just say the word. The Genesis Church will back you up with everything we've got."
"Ah, uh..."
Charlotte nodded dazedly.
Celestina kneaded her shoulder softly, fixing me with a smile that somehow felt chilling.
"Lord Blackmere, you're here too. How's your studies going?"
Her mouth smiled, but her eyes didn't.
What the hell. Creepy.
"Swimmingly, Celestina."
"Oh? And your relations with your classmates?"
"No real relations to speak of."
"I imagine not."
"Here to pick a fight?"
"Perish the thought. Hehe."
Celestina half-lidded her eyes with a chuckle.
"I'm just worried there might be others suffering from your impulsive mistakes, Lord Blackmere."
"Worried I'll kick up another shitstorm."
"Nothing so crude."
Maybe it was thanks to my steady campus service these past few days.
The look she gave me wasn't quite as icy anymore.
Before, it was cockroach-level disgust; now, maybe dung beetle territory.
Still hated, but progress was progress—and it felt good.
"You've been diligent with your campus service."
And there it was—the topic from Celestina's lips.
"Trying my best."
"Mind if I ask what for?"
"..."
Atonement? Yeah, she'd probably scoff.
"...Pfft."
I hesitated, picking my words, and a snicker slipped out unbidden.
Why was I even sweating this?
I should just keep doing me.
Those who get it will get it; those who don't never planned to anyway.
Begging for approval as some "changed man" might just backfire.
"Do I have to be diligent just to win something?"
"..."
"But fine. If I had to say... it's for myself."
No clue how that landed.
Celestina stared at me for a long beat, then slowly nodded and looked away.
"I see."
An awkward silence stretched on.
Nothing for me to do but...
'Ah, getting sleepy.'
...zone out, smacking my lips over the student cafeteria lunch menu.
After spacing out with Charlotte for a while, we headed back to the classroom.
Splat!
"..."
Something pale and gooey dumped onto me and Charlotte's heads.
'What the fuck...'
What the hell is this?
A quiet hallway in the main building.
Normally, only early lunch returnees would be milling about, but now a cluster of students gathered.
"We doing it today?"
"Better to just get it over with once, right?"
"They're at the fountain out front."
They exchanged sly grins.
Just the mischievous look you'd expect from their age—but today, a touch meaner.
"Got 'em?"
"Y-yeah..."
Gideon Arthur Pembroke, ringleader of this delinquent pack.
He snatched the two milk cartons from a hesitant guy's hands.
Expired milk from the canteen, slated for disposal.
Filched for one purpose.
"Hey, they're coming."
"Toss and hide right away."
To prank someone, obviously.
Gideon's eyes sharpened like a hawk's, fixed outside.
From here, the fountain park in front of the main building was in plain view.
Three figures approached the front entrance.
The lead two: Blackmere's wastrel and some commoner girl whose name he couldn't recall, as expected.
Knowing they'd been hanging thick lately, Gideon prepped two cartons.
"...Huh?"
"Wait, the saintess is with them?"
One thing the delinquents overlooked.
Trailing a few steps behind: Celestina, Saintess of Compassion from the Genesis Church.
Gideon knew she couldn't abide injustice.
If it included pranking the commoner girl, she'd step in for sure.
But if the target was Blackmere's wastrel?
"Just throw it."
Gideon decided after a moment's thought.
Do it anyway!
'Who's gonna pity Blackmere's wastrel?'
Pampered noble brat, immature thinking.
Childish logic led to one conclusion.
Celestina hated him just as much, so whether shitwater or milk dumped on his head, she wouldn't interfere much.
If she got mad later, just play it off as a prank.
No way it'd spark a house feud over this.
Run crying to daddy? "Classmate dumped milk on my head"?
For Blackmere's wastrel, getting pity-beaten would be luckier.
No hesitation now. The commoner girl didn't count.
Gideon calculated the arc meticulously, aiming for Leonard and Charlotte's heads.
Once in range, eyes flashed.
"Now! Throw!"
The flimsy carton arced in perfect precision, no room for error.
Splat!
The wet, nasty sound echoed. Gideon stifled a grin and bolted for the classroom.
Clatter!
The others piled in, giggling.
"Heh... See that?"
"Head was soaked."
"Could've sworn he dyed it."
"Commoner girl got hit too?"
"Dunno. Probably bawling back to the dorm."
Obviously, none of these pranksters held personal grudges against the pair.
'Fucking flirt, shit...!'
All but one: Gideon.
Pranks like this usually spun around one leader.
Same as always.
'You looked down on my house.'
Gideon hadn't forgotten semester start.
Early on, making friends easy with his upbeat vibe, he'd approached the infamous Blackmere second son, hand out.
'What house?'
'Huh?'
'What house, I said.'
'Oh, haha... Pembroke Baron Family...'
'Second banker's house, huh.'
The sharp retort hit like a slap, water pouring from his head.
'Don't talk to me, you vulgar money-grubber.'
Leonard's cup tilted, cold water soaking his scalp and running down.
Gideon had ground his teeth for this day alone.
"I'll make you cry buckets, Blackmere wastrel."
Giggling wickedly, Gideon and his crew feigned calm.
Oblivious to one gaze on them.
'Ugh, pathetic...'
Amelia Hill watched it all, undisguised disdain.
Seeing Blackmere pranked was satisfying, but oddly frustrating too.
No matter the target, cheap stunts like that were lame.
But no reason for Amelia to step in and chew them out.
Blackmere being the victim played a part.
'Blackmere'll...'
Handle it himself.
A nagging unease stuck in her gut, but she brushed it off.
More curious: how Blackmere would react storming in.
Gideon's group chattered casually, pretending nothing happened. Amelia watched from afar, chin propped.
Bam!
A massive boom cut through them.
All eyes in the classroom snapped there.
Two figures dripping pale milk, and behind them, Celestina arms crossed, expression sour.
"Haha, Blackmere, what a mess..."
Gideon smirked, stepping toward wrecked Leonard—
"Hm?"
His eyes caught Leonard's right hand, belatedly.
A steady grip on a wooden stick... no.
'Club?'
A sturdy oak club.
Then it hit Gideon: something was very wrong.
"Guess you forgot my temper."
No time to gloat on the prank.
The classroom intruder was
the academy's original troll.