Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: The Original Troll Appears (3)
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No matter how badly the rumors about Leonard Percival Blackmere had spread through the academy.
In the end, those were just bits of gossip floating around the mouths of immature students.
To the full-fledged adults who were the academy's faculty, it wasn't even worth serving as bar snacks.
Of course, they hadn't looked on him unfavorably from the very beginning.
It was also true that Leonard's complete absence from classes for two weeks after the entrance ceremony had driven the faculty to frustration.
The pride of those instructors, who carried the prestigious name of Kingswell with such self-assurance in their own lectures, had taken a small dent.
"Blackmere's no problem, right?"
"Yes, Professor Sera. Looks like the suspension got him to straighten up."
"He was quite well-behaved in Classical Literature class too."
However, as they say, time is the great healer for any issue.
Even the ever-proud Leonard had no real counter to the towering wall of a full week's suspension, it seemed.
After it ended, Leonard returned and began an astonishing recovery of his reputation.
"His class participation rate is looking pretty positive."
"Finally realized the true value of my lectures, has he?"
"He's finally growing up. What do kids know anyway? At that age, everyone's gotta rebel a bit."
Even his previous arrogant and ill-mannered behavior started getting repackaged in a positive light.
What? Skipping classes?
Not giving a damn whether the instructor was lecturing or not and just picking his ears?
'That could happen.'
He was a freshman who'd just entered the academy at a tender eighteen years old. Freshly minted, vibrant eighteen.
It wasn't wrong to call it behavior fitting for the stormy adolescence teens had to weather.
"I was full of rebellion at that age too."
"Isn't that just a fond memory now?"
"Students go through phases like that. Oh ho ho."
The faculty swept aside his past 'minor' infractions and focused on how Leonard was starting to change.
That didn't mean it won over every single instructor's goodwill.
"Still, we should keep watching him."
"Hmm... Isn't he just pretending to change?"
"People don't change that easily."
Many faculty members still eyed Leonard with suspicion, staying vigilant for any sign he might cause trouble again.
Campus violence and deviant behavior were serious issues, after all.
In the eyes of the majority who despised such things, Leonard still needed to prove himself.
"What did the Dean say?"
"He said to observe for now."
"In that case..."
For the time being, observe.
That was the tentative conclusion.
But that was the faculty's perspective.
Students, who interacted with Leonard far more and had to see his face every day in dorm life, felt differently.
"You don't fix a black-haired beast; you toss it."
"Blackmere's putting on a show again."
"If a week's suspension changes a person, why bother with laws? Just drag all the criminals to Kingswell and suspend 'em."
"Watch him for a week. He'll snap right back to his old self, picking fights everywhere."
They were still naive when it came to social dynamics.
Sensitive to rumors and mob mentality.
Even if Leonard's changed demeanor shook some hearts, they couldn't turn away from the overwhelming majority opinion.
Students mocked Leonard's sudden post-suspension transformation while...
"But seriously, what wind blew in to make him act like this?"
"Who knows. Maybe the Blackmere family disowned him?"
"Nah. If Court Earl Blackmere had given him a good thrashing with a stick, that'd make sense."
...quietly wondering why he'd changed so quickly.
And so, amid countless suspicious and wary gazes.
The name Leonard Percival Blackmere was involuntarily dragged onto the tribunal of public opinion.
'We'll see if you've really changed.'
Image rehabilitation wasn't something that happened overnight.
It required an endless process of proof.
Truth be told.
'What the hell is this dogshit I'm hearing?'
I couldn't follow the academy classes at all.
After getting rare praise from the instructor in Basic Swordsmanship...
...came Classical Literature right after.
"Now, the poem we'll read today is by the famous court poet Hayes..."
Practical Alchemy.
"Next, we'll cover how to brew an emergency healing potion using ash tree bark..."
"Reagent ratios at 8:1:1..."
Weapons Theory, and so on.
"It's important to get proficient not just with swords, but halberds, maces, daggers too..."
While the instructors stood up front yammering on.
All I could do was scribble whatever was on the board now and then before zoning out.
'Fuck.'
No bullshit, I couldn't understand a damn thing.
Since nothing got through—like reciting sutras to a cow's ear—I had no choice but to keep my mouth shut and just listen to the instructor drone on.
"Cadet Blackmere? Good attitude in class today."
"...Thank you."
No idea how they took my silence, but the instructors praised my quiet demeanor and even awarded conduct points.
I'd racked up a whopping 3 points already.
There weren't fixed rewards for points, but the top scorer got extra credit on their grades.
'It's a steal, sure.'
Obviously a win for me.
But earning 3 points in a single day didn't sit entirely well.
What good were endless points if I bombed the actual exams I needed to ace?
After the grueling time of staring blankly at the instructor up front and occasionally nodding like an idiot to fake understanding...
"Leonard. Let's go grab lunch."
"...Lunchtime already?"
"Yeah... Were you dozing?"
"Not at all."
Finally, sweet liberation unshackled me for a moment.
I got up and followed Charlotte out of the lecture hall.
"Cafeteria for lunch?"
"Yeah... It's free."
Kingswell Royal Academy lived up to its name as an academy directly managed and owned by the royal family.
Its generous funding and perks put public academies or half-baked privates to shame.
Case in point: a student cafeteria that rivaled specialty restaurants, completely free.
"Oh..."
With my tray loaded, I let out a low murmur of admiration at the feast before me.
Honestly, I hadn't expected much.
In Leonard's memories, he'd always sneered at the student cafeteria and eaten at the Golden Dorm's exclusive diner.
The food there was probably divine, but without the bravado, my honest palate found this level plenty luxurious.
'Insane.'
Veal steak glistening like a pink gem, juices dripping.
Fluffy mashed potatoes, rich pickled veggie sides, a sauce so umami-packed it made my spine tingle.
This was free grub?
Kingswell... what are you leaving for us like this?
'The students remain.'
I praised the chairman—one of the royals—in my mind and picked up my utensils with feigned nonchalance.
"Let's eat."
"Yeah..."
Charlotte and I dug in.
For me, it was a proper meal after days of deprivation—a taste of pure bliss.
Suspended students couldn't use academy facilities outside the dorm, so I'd been stuck with the bland sandwiches stocked in Wisteria Dorm since possessing this body.
Which made this all the more poignant.
"Leonard."
"Hm?"
As I focused on my food, Charlotte suddenly spoke up.
I looked up to see her tray... wait, what? When did she finish?
Licked clean, not a bean left behind—no need for washing.
A dollop of steak sauce on her nose tip, she smacked her lips while gazing at me.
"I saw it in class earlier."
"Class?"
"Basic Swordsmanship."
"Oh, that."
"How'd you do it?"
"Hm?"
My state during Basic Swordsmanship had been... insanely good, in a way.
At first, even I doubted Leonard's skills.
And rightly so—they were abysmal.
The greatsword kept wobbling, my feet stumbled into false steps, throwing off balance.
Even a light swing left me gasping, so against someone like Charlotte, I'd have been purely defensive before tiring out and folding.
But Leonard Percival Blackmere's true value lay beyond his current ability.
'Freakishly high focus, and eyes that read the situation.'
Leonard had insane concentration.
During that Basic Swordsmanship session, even I was shocked at how locked-in I got on the drills.
In that moment, the world around me vanished.
Movements, breathing, gaze—like standing in the thick of a life-or-death battlefield.
'Treat training like combat.'
Back in my military days, I thought it was bullshit, but experiencing this guy's talent made it click.
Focus so intense it made training feel like real battle—no need for actual fights.
Leondard's body could pull that off.
Naturally, his training yielded far superior results than average.
Not quite on par with solo-munching Munchkin Amelia, but still.
Leonard shone in his potential for faster, more efficient growth than anyone.
And Charlotte seemed to have glimpsed that talent in today's class.
"What you showed in class... Honestly, it was impressive."
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at me.
"Your senses are on another level during training, right?"
"Hm... Something like that."
"Something like that?"
"I've never focused that hard before."
"Ah... That your gimmick?"
"It's not a gimmick."
Leonard must have known about this talent of his.
No matter how many elixirs and tonics the family crammed down his throat.
There had to be some foundation beforehand.
That's how he got into Kingswell and placed in A-Class with top scores.
But that was it. Stagnation set in after childhood efforts, with no further push.
Was it laziness?
Or some other reason?
"Leonard?"
"...Ah. Sorry."
I snapped out of it to find my tray empty and Charlotte staring at me.
Embarrassed, I stood with my tray, and she trailed after to return hers.
"What about afternoon?"
"Afternoon?"
What was afternoon again?
I stared at Charlotte, who shrugged back at me.
"Today's club activities day."
"...Oh."
Mornings for classes, afternoons for clubs.
'Club applications close after entrance ceremony...'
And cruelly, Leonard's memory now surfaced: deadline today.
'We're fucked.'
Leonard, you're fucked.