Midterms (5)
The day after my awkward conversation with Sellin.
The second day of sparring dawned.
I'd naturally imagined showing up to a crowd of onlookers again today.
"Ah, just buzz off already."
"No waaay!"
Fel Grain.
A hulking mass of muscle paired with a cute, high-pitched voice.
A sweaty guy with strangely disciplined speech.
...I really hate him.
"Ah! Why are you like thaaat?!"
"Answer meee, sir!"
What the hell does he want me to answer?
"How'd you beaaat me?!"
How'd I beat him? What kind of question is that.
"Well."
I fought better, so I won.
"Give me a proper answerrr!!"
"Goddamn... this guy's driving me nuts."
I have no idea how to even explain it.
He probably wouldn't get it anyway.
But I can't have this dude glued to me all day...
"...You just lost 'cause you're weaker than me, that's it."
"That's ridiculous, sir!"
Yeah, I get it—you can't believe it.
I get that you can't believe a famous parachute kid like me beat you.
"That's a fact. You're just a weakling who lost to a midday parachute."
"...Sniff, that's too haaarsh, sir."
Ah, please don't make your eyes all teary, you big lug.
And stop clinging to me with that massive body of yours.
Fel Grain's face was filled with tears, plunged into deep despair and anguish for a good while.
"Ah, I get it nooow...!"
He suddenly jerked his head up and yelled at me.
My ears are gonna fall off.
I'm not interested, so just leave me alone.
"Y-You're not actually a parachute, sir!"
"...What?"
"Otherwise, I wouldn't have gotten wrecked like thiiis!"
So he knows he got utterly demolished.
But I'm still a parachute.
And you're trash who lost to that parachute.
"I'm a proper B-Class cadet at the Academy! You're an A-Class cadet!"
"Yeah, the proud parachute of A-Class."
"Exactlyyy! It's only natural for a proud A-Class cadet to beat B-Class!"
What kind of bullshit logic is this?
Did losing to me make him snap?
A cadet who's supposed to be full of ambition and rivalry spouting garbage like this...
"It wasn't my faaault, sir!"
"No, it is your problem."
"Nooo, sir! If it was my problem, the other cadets would've beaten you yesterday!"
Guess those guys have issues too.
"Your record yesterday was 3 wins, 0 losses!"
Pick one—casual or formal.
What is this half-assed polite-casual flirting bullshit?
I hate that crap from dudes.
"Against three B-Class cadets, no less!"
"...Dude, just admit it. You're weak."
No real combat sense at all.
To the point where I wonder what the hell the Academy has been doing.
"You and those other two were just B-Class trash, right?"
"Nooo! I'm definitely not trash, sir!"
Strong denial means strong affirmation, you know that?
"Even so, I'm pretty top-tier in B-Class! I'm not like some parachute like youuu!"
You're the one who got wrecked by "some parachute like me."
"I even have a good rep! Nobody calls me parachute or anything!"
"That's the kind of talk that shouldn't exist at the Academy anyway."
I'm the weird one here.
"...Anyway! You're the real deal in strength, sir!"
"You've lost it."
Can't accept your weakness, so you put me on a pedestal.
Compared to when I first reincarnated, I'm definitely stronger now.
Efficient mana circuits, steady stamina training, strength workouts.
Plus the body overhaul from the Hero.
If my original body was a 1, I'm about a 4 now.
Oh, and for reference, average Academy cadets are around 10.
From yesterday's spars, most hovered around there.
Except cases like Arbel, Sellin... or the Saintess.
The Saintess... I was shocked watching her fight.
Thought she'd swing a mace or something.
But no, she dual-wielded pistols and unloaded.
And she's the only cadet using guns.
Every time I see her, it's a surprise.
What the hell did I fight that Saintess for in my past life?
The Hero's party is full of tough customers.
Anyway, there were a few standout cadets besides them...
Probably the other A-Class folks.
A-Class: around 15+.
B-Class: 13-14.
C-Class: 9-12.
That's roughly the grouping.
Fel Grain... purely on physical completion, he's B-Class level.
"You, you've got zero real combat experience, right?"
"Nooo, sir!"
"What'd you do during Academy spars?"
"...Building muscle is more efficient than sparring, sir!"
Is he actually insane?
High physical completion gives you an edge in fights, sure.
But experience matters more.
Experience turns desperate situations around and seals overwhelming ones.
And he ignores that?
"Just lose."
That's right.
"That's too meeean, sir!"
But seriously, I don't get it.
"Then what'd you do when the Academy forced spars?"
"...I'd throw it on purpose and hit the weights, sir."
"Last year's midterms too?"
"Then I just beat 'em moderately and won, sir!"
I see the problem.
The Academy really lacks experienced cadets.
So he probably just brute-forced it.
"Dude, go spar already."
"Suddenlyyy?"
"Yeah, go get wrecked. That's best."
That's how you'll get a bit stronger.
No need to bulk more.
Just stack experience.
Sure, sparring alone for experience is weird, but he's still a cadet.
Gottta start somewhere.
"And we both have today's spars anyway."
"Yesss, sir."
If yes, then scram.
I don't wanna waste more time.
"You're lacking experience. Sparring fills that. Okay?"
"O...! Got it, sir!"
Fel Grain spun around and rushed toward the crowd.
Yeah, go take your beatings.
"Ha... wasted so much damn time."
"Right? Do better."
"Whoa, you scared me."
The Saintess's voice overlaid the sudden quiet after Fel Grain left.
"Why so jumpy all of a sudden?"
"...Just a thing."
Seeing her yawn and turn opponents into beehives yesterday was a shock.
...Feels like one wrong word and I'm next.
"Anyway, did you watch me fight yesterday?"
"Yeah, my worries were pointless."
"You know it."
"Didn't expect guns here."
The Academy's facilities scream modern.
Not weird to have 'em, but... still felt off.
"Well, no one else in this world uses them besides me."
"...Why?"
"Secret."
Fine, whatever.
"Even if not secret, they're hard to use."
"True."
Bullets are surprisingly useless against Performers and Arhats.
Magic's faster and hits harder than bullets.
Why bother with guns?
Especially when Performers and Arhats dodge and deflect that magic.
"Mine's a special weapon, that's why."
"Yeah, didn't look ordinary."
That sheen ain't normal.
Thought she'd enchanted it herself.
"So, why'd our busy Saintess come find me?"
"You turned opponents into mush yesterday."
How'd she know?
"Your hands too, right?"
"...Weaklings' desperate flailing."
"Where'd you stash that scythe to mess up your hands like that?"
Explaining would take time.
"...This scythe has no edge?"
"Infuse mana."
"...Turning my whole arm into a blade is kinda risky."
"That risk made three heads explode?"
...No comeback.
"Didn't I tell you?"
"...What?"
"Don't make more work for me."
"...I didn't get healed by you yesterday."
Injury wasn't bad, so another priest handled it.
"Keep that mindset, you'll get seriously hurt someday."
"Eh... as long as I don't."
"'Weaklings' flailing' guy says 'as long as I don't'?"
"...Dodge everything, land everything, win."
"You think this is a game?"
No...
"Reflect on it."
"Sorry..."
"...Anyway, give me your hands."
"Hands? Which?"
"Both."
Suddenly?
I extended them anyway per her request.
She snatched them with hers.
"Wh-What."
"Hold still."
Just moments ago, clinging sweat-muscle dude...
Now, hand-in-hand with a beauty Saintess.
...Dizzying.
Is this that dream on a tiring day?
Warm energy followed her hand through my veins.
That familiar feeling from her heals.
"...See? Nerves aren't fully recovered."
Really? Didn't notice.
"Sigh... Even with treatment, only I can fully fix it."
"Mm, your Heal definitely feels different from priests'."
"So don't push after healing—take recovery time."
"Got it..."
She gripes about more work, but worries and heals anyway.
Why's she so good to me?
Just 'cause I resemble her dead crush?
If so... kinda pisses me off.
Dunno why this irritation hits.
But accepting it felt infuriating. Extremely.