Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 23
>Chapter Title: Mostly Had No Friends
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Early morning.
I woke up at dawn and started the day with Heavenly Origin Art, as always.
Pola still hadn’t returned to his room—likely because the imperial knights’ interrogation wasn’t over.
Leaving the empty bed behind, I replayed yesterday’s battle with Karahen.
‘Not a bad situation.’
In the worst case, I’d imagined Professor Parun and Karahen teaming up, but that hadn’t happened. Instead, they’d gone at each other like bitter enemies from a past life, flinging spells wildly.
The real reason I’d taken down Karahen so easily was Professor Parun’s contribution—it was huge.
If he’d been even a slightly worse mage, or far better, Karahen’s response would’ve been totally different.
Anyway, the situation was what it was.
‘Still, the prize elixir isn’t enough.’
A solid seventy percent mana capacity.
And yet, facing Karahen yesterday, I’d felt a clear shortage.
What if Karahen had kept a cooler head and dragged the fight out longer? What if that bastard Parun had bolted to save his own skin?
The mana gap would’ve hit hard then.
‘But... it’s not that urgent. It’s just unavoidable when your benchmarks are Professor Parun and Karahen.’
For now, just acknowledging the issue was enough.
The real thing I needed to focus on...
“...”
I stepped up to the mirror and loosened my collar a bit.
There on my somewhat plumped-up frame sat the grimoire’s fire mark.
Its shape hadn’t changed from when it first awakened.
‘No, a little darker?’
Hard to tell.
I’d gotten so used to it that I’d stopped noticing.
Either way, given how it reacted mid-battle with Karahen, some kind of shift wouldn’t be surprising.
But.
‘I definitely felt it then...’
No mistaking it.
The moment Karahen’s explosive magic slammed into me—into the barrier around my body, flames licking at it.
Szzz—
Energy flowed out from the fire mark, layering onto the barrier.
What should’ve been a shaky, precarious shield grew steadier.
‘No, steadier? More like...’
‘Ah, right.’
It felt just like a spell I’d cast myself. Almost no damage at all.
‘As if I’d been excluded from the target.’
Yeah, exclusion.
Exclusion was simple: the technique elemental mages used to avoid getting hit by their own spells.
No matter how raging the flames, the caster walked away unscathed because of it.
Exclusion wasn’t foolproof, though. Mostly for elementals, and it added rituals, so not always practical.
Still, it had been exclusion...
“Not sure.”
Why it triggered right then, or what set it off.
Grimoires each had unique powers, and their triggers varied wildly.
Even with everything I knew about them, I couldn’t guess.
‘Worth looking into, though.’
Rapiter, the eastern continent’s biggest library.
I could probably dig up grimoire info there. Or at least a lead.
‘Then... time to get moving.’
I glanced out the now-bright window.
School time.
* * *
I got ready and headed downstairs to pick up Damian.
“...Sleepy.”
Damian was a heavy morning sleeper—still half out of it.
He always was.
Same back at the Blandoga estate.
Only the blunt, oblivious butler Ransi could rouse him, so waking up solo was progress worth noting.
We reached the student cafeteria.
‘Not bad.’
I flashed my pre-bought meal ticket and stepped in. Dozens of dishes greeted us.
Buffet-style.
Veggies if you wanted veggies, bread if bread, meat if meat.
No high-end steaks, but a perfect mix of carbs, protein, and fats—no complaints.
‘Gotta eat big to grow big.’
My body had improved plenty, but at this age, you could never eat enough.
I grabbed Damian and loaded up on a nutrient-packed spread, then headed back to our seats.
Sleepy or not, he knew eating meant living—digging into his plate.
I finished up and made for M3 classroom, the one I’d scouted yesterday.
We arrived.
Still some time before first period.
Students fell into three camps.
“...”
The sleep-deprived ones, already slumped over desks.
“So, yesterday...”
“Heard the top martial freshman’s from some mercenary band...”
Groups chattering about academy drama and gossip.
And in one corner, the straight-A types silently nose-deep in books.
And.
“I... wanna sleep.”
Weirdly, the sleepers had claimed all the sunniest spots in clusters. Damian wandered right over, entranced, and crashed.
He’d left his book by my side, so he must’ve pegged it as nap central.
I was just settling in when a shadow loomed.
“Hi. You’re Aster, right?”
“And?”
“I’m Chenby. You’re famous. Word is you made the Doranpega second son kneel?”
Chenby had that everyday brown hair you saw everywhere on the continent. Freckles dotted his face—striking on the boy.
Same M3 class meant magic division.
For reference, classes split into magic M1 through M3, martial E1 through E5. Eight total.
He plopped down naturally in the seat next to me—opposite Damian’s book—and I sized him up.
My stare must’ve been intense.
He grinned awkwardly.
“Oh, uh, nothing big. Just wanted to sit together. Don’t really know anyone yet. Kinda awkward crashing other groups... you get it.”
Get what?
‘Roughly, yeah.’
It was this.
Jenion Academy took students from any background, rules promising equal treatment regardless of status.
That was the academy’s line.
‘Students weren’t buying it.’
Even now, glancing around at the clusters, the cliques were obvious.
Rich kids with rich kids, the next tier with their own.
Some mixing happened, but it didn’t look like real friendships. More like bosses and hangers-on.
And the prestigious houses...
‘World of their own.’
Spotting them was easy anywhere.
Over there—those guys.
Not fitting in anywhere, arms crossed, eyes shut.
Everyone else beneath notice. Not even worth contempt—just not worth addressing.
Whatever. No skin off my back, so I nodded.
“Sure, whatever.”
“Phew, thanks. Was sweating it. Everyone’s grouping up, stuck solo? Awkward, right?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Truth was, I wouldn’t know.
Never felt alone wherever I went. Simple reason: I’d never not been alone.
Why not feel lonely then?
‘Fish doesn’t know water.’
Always solo, never clocked it.
Back in my Black-White Slums orphan days, the other urchins were mostly itching to prey on me.
Troubleshooter phase? Too busy solo surviving to bond anywhere.
Even as No. 1, same deal.
We were all cut from the same cloth—no real sense of “group.”
Groups needed some shared bond; troubleshooters were just lone operators crossing paths.
Anyway, Chenby was a talker.
“Wow, you’re really a mage, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you fight like that? Doranpega’s pure martial—not weak up close. Held your own?”
“Ether’s low for now. Be different later.”
From the chat, not prestigious stock. Not loaded either.
Still, bright and bold—no shrinking violet. A few back-and-forths, and it hit me.
‘This what normal talk feels like?’
This life, only lunatics stuck to me.
Damian aside, Henji and the rest... yeah, even Professor Parun was “normal” only compared to them.
Regression or not, this everyday vibe? Not half bad.
The Q&A flowed—mostly him asking, me answering—until the room filled up.
“Hang on.”
I nudged Damian awake in time... but no dice. Grabbed his nape and plunked him next to me.
“Hey, heard about that?”
“What.”
“Before you got here, kids were buzzing. Our M3 homeroom teacher? Professor Jeira. The Professor Jeira!”
“Jeira?”
“No way you don’t know Professor Jeira? Huge in our region. Top mage on the eastern front! Soloed a whole troll pack...”
Ah, clicked.
‘That prof from the stage yesterday.’
Red-haired mage.
Still active—not ancient—but big name back in her field days.
‘Yeah...’
A lone mage wiping a troll pack—not a single one, a group? Tough.
Matchup problem, maybe.
That’s when.
“Ah! She’s here!”
...he said, snapping straight.
Sure enough, through the front door: the red-haired mage and one TA.
‘Hmm.’
Chenby wasn’t wrong—her presence was something else.
Young end of the professor spectrum, like Parun. Gait, subtle aura—not a hint of backing down.
Personality? Straight shooter.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jeira.”
No waking the sleepers. Just her piece.
“We’ll measure mana before first class. Follow the TA and sort it out.”
With that, she opened the door and left.
“...”
M3 students sat there stunned. Chenby leaned in and whispered.
“We’re screwed.”
What the hell for?