The Storm Strikes Twice
“Did you hear? There’s a new student this year with the John Nassen name.”
“That’s ridiculous. How could they possibly let another one in?”
“It wasn’t Leah. They said it’s a guy. Probably her little brother?”
Listening to his classmates whisper, Thomas—now a third-year—felt a cold jolt of no way.
The Imperial Academy was under the direct jurisdiction of the Imperial Family. No noble, no matter how high, could act with impunity here. Even the great ducal houses watched their manners within these walls.
And yet, the daughter of a mere baronial house had gone on an absolute rampage inside that very academy. She claimed she hadn’t used a sword or a single spell, but who would believe that? In the end she was expelled for the reckless handling of mana—leaving behind a storm worse than any nightmare, one the academy and everyone in it would never forget.
But how is a John Nassen coming back? The Ministry of Education would never allow it.
The fallout hadn’t stopped at the academy or its students. Sparks had flown all the way to the Ministry of Education and the Ministry of Finance. Finance officials had looked ready to devour Education staff on sight.
Of course, jokes about another John Nassen storm had been making the rounds for years—half-serious, half-teasing. Thomas had assumed this was just more of the same bad humor.
“Kyle John Nassen.”
“Present!”
The professor was calling roll. Right up until the moment Thomas laid eyes on the young man said to be the second son of the John Nassens, he still didn’t believe it.
He actually enrolled?!
Is he insane?! Oh, for the love of— Gods above. Protect His Majesty the Emperor.
Thomas found himself praying to a deity he had never once sought before. The memory of that girl Leah tearing the academy apart was still burned into his retinas. That overwhelming martial presence no ordinary human should possess. He had been certain he would never again see a fist punch clean through a building wall.
The academy’s permanent security detail was supposed to be elite. Leah John Nassen had handled them like puppies. One grab, one casual fling—and they went sailing. No masterful swordsmanship. No world-shaking magic. Just pure, raw physical power against grown men-at-arms.
A storm. That day, an unstoppable storm had struck the academy.
And now that storm’s little brother has enrolled! What the hell is going on?!
At a glance he didn’t look like a John Nassen. Solidly built, yes, but not the grotesque, aggressive musculature one might expect. Objectively speaking, he simply had a very good body—nothing more.
But Thomas remembered. Leah had looked like a slender young woman too. And that slender young woman had shouted a battle cry and smashed everything in sight.
“We have quite a few new faces this term. Shall we have everyone introduce themselves briefly?”
The freshmen’s greetings and bold ambitions followed—each of them promising to do their best under the professors and seniors. On any other day Thomas would have found them endearing and smiled. Today he had no such luxury.
He’s not going to say something like ‘I’m here to avenge my sister,’ right?
A quick glance around the room told him everyone who had been caught up in that incident was frozen solid. Only the students who hadn’t been directly involved were still clapping. And of course the professor at the front had joined the faculty after the whole mess.
“Next… Kyle John Nassen.”
Right. Surely he wouldn’t actually say anything terrible. It’ll be fine. Just because his sister was a storm doesn’t mean the brother has to be one too.
Thomas forced his tensed body to relax and waited for the junior’s greeting.
Crrrack!!
“…?”
The instant Kyle stood, the desk split cleanly in two. A phrase Thomas had once read somewhere floated unbidden into his mind.
The storm strikes twice. The storm strikes twice.
…Maybe I should take a leave of absence.
What the hell? Why did it break into two pieces? And of all times, now?
The moment anxiety settled into his body, his movements grew even more abrupt. He had planned to say it was nothing—just a fluke, that the desk must have already been cracked and simply gave way when he pressed down. Instead, from everyone else’s perspective, he was standing there holding the two halves of a desk like some kind of strongman pose.
“Uh… uh…”
“W-what…?”
The seniors who had been clapping for the freshmen froze solid. The ones whose expressions had already been grim went ashen.
Damn it all…
First impressions mattered everywhere—another country, another world, it made no difference. He knew that perfectly well and had been determined to make a good one. Instead, on the very first day of lectures, he had become the lunatic who snapped a desk in half.
“Ah… r-right! A-applause! Applause, everyone!”
Why are we clapping right now, Professor? I didn’t just put on a circus act instead of introducing myself.
Clap-clap-clap!
And why are all of you clapping with those frozen faces?!
It wasn’t as if he had threatened them with ‘If you don’t clap, I’ll rearrange your bodies and heads just like this desk.’
He was done for. Whatever the reason, he was finished. There was no recovering from this. The carefully prepared, sincere greeting and witty one-liners he had practiced were now scrap.
Rather than draw even more attention, the smartest move was to sit down as fast as possible.
“…I’m Kyle of the John Nassen baronial house. I look forward to working with you all.”
He kept his voice as flat and formal as possible, hoping to minimize the spotlight. In his mind he was praying the whole situation would just blow over. What the freshmen and upperclassmen actually heard was something closer to:
I look forward to working with you all… so please don’t make me do the same to people.
Exactly two hours after the general education lecture ended, a rumor began circulating through the academy: the second John Nassen storm had arrived.
“Student Kyle John Nassen. The Headmaster wishes to see you.”
How long had it even been since the last summons, and already another call from the Headmaster? The first one had technically come from the Minister under the Headmaster’s name, but still—a freshman hauled into the Headmaster’s office twice already.
Escorted by the men, Kyle entered and found the Headmaster wearing a forced smile. He had known instantly the smile was fake, of course.
“Student Kyle.”
“Yes, Headmaster.”
“I’ve heard the report. You broke a desk clean in two?”
“It was an accident. A genuine accident. I never intended to do that, Headmaster.”
“I see. Before you explain it to me, however, please explain it to this gentleman first.”
What the Headmaster held out was a magic communication orb. The sphere flared with light, and a familiar face appeared inside.
“Starting off with a warning shot, were we?”
“Absolutely not. I’m truly the one who’s been wronged here.”
“Did you not promise to keep a low profile?”
“I’ll say it again—I’m genuinely the victim here, Minister.”
Does this Minister have nothing better to do? How had word reached him so fast? At this rate he might as well have spies planted throughout the academy.
“I just put a little force into it without realizing and the desk shattered. I wasn’t trying to do anything.”
“I sincerely hope that is the case. You are under close scrutiny right now. Since there were no victims this time we will let it pass, but the moment even a minor conflict arises, no one will be able to take your side.”
Kyle swallowed a sigh. His sister’s rampage had been so catastrophic that he had no choice but to keep his head down and stay silent. It wasn’t only the nobility who were still furious—the Ministries of Education and Finance were as well. The only reason anyone was holding their tongues was the imperial letter of recommendation the Emperor himself had granted.
“I will say this once more. No—please, I am begging you. Keep your family name out of the reports. Every time I hear ‘John Nassen’ I feel ten years of my life vanish.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I was trying to quit smoking, yet thanks to you I’ve been chain-smoking again.”
After several heavy sighs the Minister declared the conversation over and cut the link. The moment the face vanished, Kyle found himself facing the Headmaster once more. He, too, was wearing a smile that was not a smile.
“I’m sorry, Headmaster. I’ll be extremely careful from now on.”
“Please do. I’m already overwhelmed just dealing with tonight’s freshman welcome party.”
“The party is tonight?”
“Yes. We had originally planned it for the weekend, but this weekend is the Empire’s Victory Day. We had no choice but to move it to the first day of term.”
One of the academy’s long-standing traditions: the freshman welcome party. A chance for the upperclassmen to cheer on the new students who would soon be ground down by professors and grades—and a place to form valuable connections with classmates and seniors alike. Attendance was optional for current students; for freshmen it was effectively mandatory.
“…You will be attending as well, Student Kyle?”
The Headmaster’s tone somehow sounded like Please don’t go. Whether that was imagination or not, an academy tradition this old could not simply be skipped. More importantly, the freshman welcome party was a major event. Missing something that significant was out of the question.
“Absolutely. Without fail. I will not cause any trouble.”
“I truly, truly hope so. I’ve already seen the Minister several times these past few days and my heart can’t take much more.”
The man’s haggard face looked more like a graduate student’s than an academy headmaster’s. Between the usual chaos of a new term and being hounded by the Minister on top of it, Kyle could clearly see how hard the Headmaster was having it.
“I’ll do my best, Headmaster.”
“Please don’t be the sort of person who only ‘does his best.’ You may go.”
After offering a polite farewell, Kyle left the Headmaster’s office and headed for his room, praying with every step that tonight’s party would pass without a single incident.