Underdog's Rebellion?
Late at night, with stars twinkling in the sky.
After a casual dinner with Aen Arbel, we'd come out for a short walk to aid digestion.
"Aen, what do you think?"
"Huh? Out of nowhere? About what?"
"My skills."
"Your skills? Heon's skills...?"
Yeah, my skills.
Honestly, I've been slacking off way too much lately.
It's about time I got slapped with some cold, hard facts.
"Yeah, just be dead serious and brutally honest. Facts only."
"Hmm... for real?"
I nod.
But even saying that, given her personality, Aen won't really spit venom...
"First off, your physical abilities are completely pathetic!"
"How is your stamina even worse than mine, a mage?!"
"When I first saw you, I thought, 'How the hell did this guy even get into the Academy?' because you didn't even have mana circuits!"
"You looked so pitiful I made some for you...!"
"And yet, even with those, your mana is still that low?!"
"Right now, the circuits I made for you are a bigger luxury than a pearl necklace on a pig!"
"I thought you'd finally gotten your act together when you asked to study together today... but nope, you're just changing the subject!"
"Heon, you can't even use proper martial arts or magic right now, can you?"
"So, shouldn't you work a bit harder...?"
...I see.
Hmm.
"A-alright... that's enough."
Yeah, no way someone on their Nth life couldn't deliver a fact bomb like that.
I was worrying over nothing.
"But I'm saying this out of genuine worry..."
"Worry?"
"Yeah, midterms are coming up soon!"
...Midterms?
For real?
"What?! That clueless look on your face!!!"
"No..."
I really didn't know.
"It's still... mid-March?"
"So?"
"Midterms are this soon?"
"Yeah! There's barely a week left!"
Oh.
Oh, I thought it was tomorrow or something.
"A week... isn't that plenty of time?"
"Heon... where on earth does that baseless confidence come from..."
People like me need that groundless self-assurance just to survive.
Otherwise, you can't face the cold reality.
"So, what do midterms even involve?"
"...You don't even know that?"
...Yeah, I don't.
"What'd you do last year?"
"Last year?"
I wasn't in this body last year.
No clue...?
But knowing this hopeless guy...
"Slept in my room."
"...Why are you so proud of that?!"
...Got nothing to say to that.
"Professor Arbel, could you perhaps... enlighten me?"
"Professor?"
She gives me guidance all the time, so of course she's my professor.
Not that hero who's trying to kill her disciple, though.
"Ahem~ Professor, huh~."
Oh.
She likes it more than I thought.
"Yes, Professor Aen Arbel. Please bestow your wisdom upon this unworthy disciple..."
"Alright, alright! Your brilliant professor will now impart her teachings!"
She's in a good mood now.
...People are so easy to please.
How'd she survive in that hero party prison?
Oh, right. She didn't.
"Midterms are divided into two main categories!"
"Hmm... practical and academic... something like that?"
Practical and academic.
That's how the Academy splits what it teaches.
"Exactly!"
Jackpot.
Her reaction's so good, it's fun to guess.
This professor's top-tier.
"They evaluate those two. Practical's always been sparring matches!"
"Got it."
"But academic... it changes every time, so even I don't know!"
Makes sense. They wouldn't repeat the same test.
"Not a written exam, then?"
"Right!"
Oh...
"Good news for me."
"Huh? Why?"
Obviously.
"If I took a written exam right now, I'd get a straight zero on skill alone."
"Hmm~ true that!"
Yeah, she gets it right away.
Anyway.
"Academic, huh..."
"Huh? What's up?"
Just a bit of doubt creeping in.
"If they're evaluating academics without a written test, how do they even do it...?"
"Oh~ I'm kinda curious about that too!"
The Academy's academics boil down to two things.
Philosophy and tactics.
Most performers end up as mercenaries.
Or knights for empires and kingdoms.
All jobs where you live by fighting.
So Academy academics are all about learning to fight—on paper.
Philosophy shapes your attitude toward battle and builds your personal values.
What happens if you have power but no values or choices of your own?
You become someone else's sword.
And a sword gets swung wildly.
Slicing what shouldn't be sliced, stabbing what shouldn't be stabbed, without a word of protest.
Well, duh.
A mere tool can't talk back.
A human without self is just a tool.
That's why the Academy teaches philosophy.
Judge for yourself, think for yourself, fight for yourself.
Something like that.
Tactics... well, knights and mercs deal with big battles and skirmishes all the time.
You learn 'em to help in those ops.
"But~ academic's absolute grading anyway~ and most people ace it, so no need to stress!"
"Very on-brand for the Academy."
No matter how book-smart you are, real combat's different.
Reality's built on coincidences stacking up.
And practical exams test reality.
Even perfect plans fail to flukes half the time.
So yeah, the Academy prioritizes practical for evaluations.
...See? I did the right thing coming here.
But why'd they just sit there twiddling thumbs when I got kidnapped by Aen?
If it'd been the Saintess, they'd have rushed over...
Discriminating against your students, huh.
Love all your disciples equally.
Ew? Parachute or not, I'm still your student.
"Aen."
"Yeah!"
"How far do you think I could go in sparring?"
"...Huh?"
Not some deep question.
Just wondering what rank she puts me at in the Academy.
And the answer's...
"Dead last, obviously!"
Preordained.
I asked knowing it'd be that—for one reason.
"Professor Arbel, you underestimate me greatly."
"Ahem! Not underestimating—stating facts, you punk!"
Punk... I'm not that young.
"Professor. Do you know what gets people most hyped?"
"Hmm~?"
People don't like one-sided beatdowns.
They want blood, grit, hard-fought wins.
Victories with a story that grips you.
And the ending they crave in those fights is...
"I'll show you me rampaging unstoppable."
The underdog's desperate victory.
Time for the underdog's rebellion.
.
.
.
.
"...So you want me to turn you into something that can beat me right now?"
"Yes, Professor Emberline."
"You're disgustingly shameless."
Thanks for the compliment.
This is the morning after declaring war on Aen.
As always, getting my morning warm-up by getting pummeled by Aeshy Emberline in the training room.
"...Do you even know your own body's condition?"
"Of course."
"...And you're still saying that?"
That's why I'm asking you.
"Don't heroes have some insanely OP techniques or whatever?"
"What exactly do you mean by 'insanely OP'?"
"...Techniques that let this body beat Academy students."
"If I had those, I'd have solo-cleared all the world's trash ages ago."
Oh, right.
Ah... I'm screwed then.
"No real way?"
"A way... yeah, there is one. But can you handle it?"
...Handle it?
Like some forbidden technique?
"Whatever, let's do it."
"Okay, no backing out."
Don't grin so evilly while saying that—it's scary.
"Fine, just tell me the method."
"You know how muscles grow, right?"
Muscle growth process?
"Exercise?"
"Yes. Strength training damages muscles, and they grow back stronger during recovery."
Right.
"So what if you shredded your own muscles to bits?"
What happens? Duh.
"You go insane."
No way that grows muscle.
"Exactly. Normally, it'd just be crazy. Normally."
"Why emphasize it like that? Just spit it out."
"...You're awfully rude to someone about to teach you."
Oh, sorry.
"Haven't gotten beat enough today?"
"Sorry."
"Behave."
"Yes, ma'am."
...Even if I was the Demon King in my past life?
How do all these hero party reincarnates treat me like a punching bag?
Don't they pity me?
"No daydreaming. Listen."
"...Yes, ma'am."
"Straight to the point."
About time.
"Long ago, when I was obsessed with power."
"I pondered 'growth' in all sorts of ways."
"This magic's the result—and a failure."
...A failure?
"You're gonna use a failure on me?"
Time to report this rogue professor to the real Academy.
"Hear me out."
"Ah, yes."
"It's a failure because of the excruciating pain."
Pain...?
"The spell I cast on you stimulates each muscle fiber to the tearing point, then heals it—over and over."
"...Pardon?"
"Most humans can't endure that pain."
Obviously not.
"But you...?"
...Me?
"I'm curious if you can take it."
"I have a lot I wanna say right now."
"Didn't ask."
"Who even picked a guy like you as a hero? Unbelievable."
"...Guess I haven't gotten beat enough today."
"No, let me finish."
"...Speak."
"Let's do it right now?"
Sorry, but I'm not scared.
...Probably.