It's the Rule That Things Get Twisted from the Start
Things getting twisted from the very start was simply the rule of the land.
Becoming Academy students also meant they had satisfied the conditions for dormitory residence. In other words, Kyle and Ian had to head for the men's dormitory, while Tisha had to go to the women's.
"I'm sorry for dragging you around all day today, Kyle."
"No? I actually enjoyed it myself."
Watching Kyle wave his hands in a slightly exaggerated show of denial, Tisha found herself smiling softly without even realizing it.
She had heard a fair amount about the John Nassen barony. People who thought of nothing but combat—utterly inexplicable beings. The sort who would smile and welcome a fight even if the entire Empire came charging at them, or so the stories went.
I used to think it must be a house full of nothing but orcs…
Meeting Kyle of the John Nassen barony had completely overturned that impression. Calling them a battle race, people for whom strength was everything, simply didn't fit. The side of himself Kyle had shown her had been remarkably gentle.
What had drawn her favor most of all was the consideration and thoughtfulness he displayed. He was nothing like the brutish, strength-obsessed figure of public rumor. If anything, he was far better than Ian, whom she had once considered relatively normal.
He speaks so gently and well, too. Infinitely better than that ruffian.
And the decisive factor: a physique that would not lose even when set against a proper swordsman. He was fully clothed, yet the muscles showing through were something else entirely…
Anyway, the long and short of it was that she was truly glad Kyle was here. All the way to the Academy, and even after arriving—if she had been stuck with that man Ian, they would certainly have fought badly.
Compared to Kyle, that man Ian is… ugh. Completely the worst.
Only his looks were normal; everything else was thoroughly unpleasant. Starting with how he had blurted out thoughtless words right from the beginning and made her blush. He hadn't even apologized until Kyle told him to, and then he had only grudgingly said he was sorry. After that, his tendency to do whatever he pleased remained far too strong. A man who neither knew how to consider others nor possessed any sense of caution. Not thoroughly evil by nature, yet not good either—exactly the sort of person Tisha disliked most.
The Academy term would begin properly next week. Until then, students were guaranteed their freedom and could do whatever they liked within the Academy grounds.
I'll keep going around with Kyle, talking about shamanism, and we'll go to the library together too. I thought I'd be alone the whole time after coming to the Academy, so I'm really glad.
If Kyle had overheard those private thoughts, he might well have leaped up in alarm. Not that he would have shouted that he had no interest in shamanism and didn't want to know more—of course not. Inside, foaming at the mouth, he would have screamed, From the hell of the gym straight into the hell of shamanism?!
Tisha had just reached the dormitory and was about to head up to the second floor when two voices—a man and a woman—drifted in from the main entrance on the first floor. And the woman's voice was unmistakably that of Lady Elga, whom she had heard earlier.
"You've worked hard all day. Leto."
"Not at all, my lady… F-forgive me. Lady Elga. Please rest well."
As Leto bowed at the waist and offered a respectful greeting, Elga let out a sigh. It was a lament over her childhood friend, who grew more frustrating by the day—but to Tisha, who knew nothing of the circumstances, it looked like nothing more than the arrogance of someone used to ordering others about.
"This is why nobles…"
In Tisha's eyes, nobles were people who lived solely for the pleasure of their own excellence. Talentless, incapable, not even willing to make an effort—fools who stood above everyone else thanks only to that meager bloodline of theirs. Just look at how she had been hovering around Kyle earlier simply because she was a grand duke's daughter. She had surely used her title as a weapon to pressure Kyle, who was nothing more than the second son of a barony. Hadn't the atmosphere between them felt exactly like that?
"Hm?"
Had she sensed a gaze upon her from somewhere? After sending Leto away, Elga suddenly lifted her head and scanned her surroundings—and her eyes met, with perfect accuracy, those of Tisha looking down at her.
The girl who was at Kyle's side.
What was her name again? The memory hovered just out of reach. Elga tilted her head this way and that until, at last, she managed to recall it.
Tisha. Yes. Kyle definitely called her that.
Tisha, Tisha… no matter how hard she thought, nothing particular came to mind. That meant she was either from some quiet, out-of-the-way noble house or a commoner—one or the other. It wasn't that Elga cared about origins. She was simply worried that tiresome complications might arise.
She had heard that young ladies of noble houses sometimes marked someone they liked for themselves. If another person showed interest without knowing, it immediately became war, or so they said. In severe cases it could even escalate into a feud between houses—she vaguely remembered her nursemaid mentioning something of the sort. Honestly, she wondered why anyone would go that far over a fleeting first love. If it were a lifelong promise, that would be one thing, but the fever of youth was supposed to be momentary, wasn't it? Still, she rather liked the idea of throwing everything into conveying one's feelings.
But why is she staring like that? It's unpleasant.
As if deliberately showing herself to the watching Tisha, Elga moved toward her own room with elegant steps. She certainly carried herself with the poise of a grand duchy's daughter.
Well now. What a ridiculous display.
Of course, Tisha's view of nobles remained thoroughly critical. After shaking her head inwardly, she too headed for her room.
Each of them took hold of her own door handle at the same moment, and both women thought the same thing.
I don't like her.
Originally, the two young women should have been focusing more on the men named Ian and Leto. Tisha would have quarreled with Ian on the way to the Academy yet also grown a little closer. Elga would simply have strolled the Academy grounds without incident, exchanging more conversation with Leto. That was how the flow of events was supposed to proceed.
Yet at some point, everything had begun to go slightly—but unmistakably—astray.
"Whoa. Insane…. This room is fucking amazing."
And the root of it all—utterly unaware that every twist had begun the moment he set foot in the Academy—was rolling around on the bed and spouting nonsense about how the cushioning passed inspection.
"It's the Academy! Fuck yeah! I'm here! No more training! I don't have to do it anymore! Aaaaaaah!!"
He had no idea that things were already spectacularly tangled.
"Kyle."
"…."
"Get up, Kyle."
"Urgh? B-Brother?"
"Get up. It's time for upper body."
"What? No, what are you talking about… Hang on. Why are you even here, Brother?"
"Is your room someplace I'm not allowed to enter?"
"That's not what I mean—when did you come all the way to the Academy?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
At those words, Kyle hastily sat up. The body that should have been lying on a bed was stretched out on a bench!
"Hngh?! Wh-what is this?!"
"You've already been like that for three minutes. Let's get started. Today we're adding five more sets than usual."
Kyle frantically looked around. His brother, his sisters, his father, his mother—every last member of the household—were all iron-pumping in the barony's most enormous training hall.
"And today we're increasing the weight too."
"Wait a second, Brother! Just a second!"
"You are of John Nassen blood. This much, you can handle easily."
Even as the weight plates stacked up to insane levels, Kyle's brother Lia showed no sign of stopping. When the entire bar was finally packed solid with plates, he broke into a broad smile.
"All right, Kyle. Let's begin."
"H-how am I supposed to lift this?! I can't! I can't! Aaaaaaagh!!"
A nightmare—this was a nightmare! A horrific nightmare!
But even more horrific was the fact that he was actually lifting the damn thing!!
"Grrraaaagh!!"
The thrashing Kyle sprang up like a coiled spring. Half out of his mind, he whipped his head around in panic, then let out a long breath of relief.
As expected, the nightmare scenario had been nothing more than a dream.
"…What the hell kind of dream was that, damn it…."
Covering his face with both hands and sighing, Kyle looked out the window. It was still early dawn; the sun hadn't even risen. A time when everyone else would still be sunk in deep sleep. Only the truly diligent would just now be opening their eyes.
But for the people of the John Nassen barony, this was when the day's work began. Waking at this hour and doing light cardio together was simply routine.
Of course, "light" is only the word for it. What kind of lunatics run fifteen kilometers first thing in the morning?
Honestly, it might have been even farther than fifteen. Before the transmigration he had once run five kilometers, and it had taken him over thirty minutes. Natural enough for a body that had never been anywhere near exercise. Even after possessing a body of the John Nassen barony and adapting somewhat to training, he had still gritted his teeth and run for well over an hour. By his calculation, they were covering at least fifteen kilometers—or more.
In short: they were definitely insane people.
"Haaah."
The stupid dream had driven all the sleep from him. Sitting blankly, Kyle suddenly thought, Maybe I should work out, and startled himself.
Have I finally lost it? What kind of nonsense am I thinking?
Training at dawn? Absolutely not. Hadn't he come to the Academy precisely to escape that soul-crushing pattern? From now on he would play every day, eat, sleep, roll around—live exactly as he pleased!
…Fuck.
They said the scariest thing of all was habit.
The place he had ended up was the Academy's indoor training hall—by Kyle's standards, the "Academy gym." He had absolutely not wanted to come, yet the habit drilled into his body had led him here in the end.
It was far too early; not a single soul had been visible from the moment he left the dormitory. The gym was the same—completely empty, not one student in sight. If this had been the John Nassen barony, men and women of every age would already have been flaunting their muscles.
…Yeah. This is normal. I'm the abnormal one for coming at this hour.
Thinking that, Kyle lightly loosened his body. A gentle stretch to wake the muscles before training was essential. Even the battle-race John Nassens never skipped that part.
All right. I couldn't train on the way here, so I'll keep it light…
With no one around, he didn't even have to worry about the order of machines. He was leisurely flipping through the dumbbells, intending to start with arms, when—
…What is this? Is this all? No, who are these even supposed to be for?
No matter how he searched, everything was far too light. This wouldn't do anything. So Kyle was rummaging here and there when—
Creeeak—.
The door of the indoor training hall opened, and someone stepped inside.