I Bear No Responsibility
What a relief. What a genuine relief!
"So, about that massage?"
I'll do it. I'll give him one, you damn bastard. Seriously, this is the male lead? What a pain in the ass.
Kyle knew better than anyone that Ian was the type who would never give up. So he casually gestured for the other boy to sit somewhere.
What should I do? Just go easy on him like I do with the others?
That would probably be the smartest approach for now. Even if Ian was the protagonist, and even if his swordsmanship was supposedly impressive, his body itself wasn't a cheat code. Maybe it would become one later on, but not right now.
Still, his pride as a man made him hesitate. Just imagining Ian saying something like, "What's supposed to be painful about this?" if he held back...
I'm already getting pissed just thinking about it.
This was Ian. Not the kind of guy who'd keep his mouth shut. He would definitely spout something gut-churning like, "This is supposed to be a massage?" When Kyle was only going easy to keep from killing the guy, and he'd still say that without knowing? Just imagining it made murderous intent swell grandly in his chest.
After agonizing over it again and again, Kyle finally made up his mind. He would gradually increase the intensity—until the word "stop" came out of Ian's mouth. Ian was still human, after all. He would have no choice but to submit in the face of pain. He might hold out twice as long as the others, sure, but even that had its limits.
"I'm starting. I'll go easy at first, so..."
"No need. Do it properly from the start."
Yes, yes. But you might actually die if I do that, customer. Whatever you're imagining, it's even beyond that, you know? Does this bastard not know I shattered a sword with my bare hands? Even knowing that, he wouldn't be spouting nonsense about using real strength, right?
"Ian."
"What?"
"Regarding whatever happens from here on out, I take no responsibility."
"…?"
"I bear none of it, so you'll handle it all yourself."
It might seem ridiculous that this kind of conversation came up over a mere massage. But if the one giving the massage was a John Nassen, the story changed completely. He might as well have him sign a waiver transferring ownership of his own body.
"Understood."
With Ian's own permission granted, Kyle grabbed his shoulders. These were shoulders clearly different from those of the noble students he'd handled so far.
This bastard's been working out a bit. At this level, he could probably handle some decent weight.
"…."
Ian's expression didn't change in the slightest. If anything, his face was full of the question, Is that all?
I don't even know anymore.
Going easy was harder than going hard. He had been careful—so careful—not to dislocate any other students' shoulders. And this lunatic had no idea of all that effort and still demanded he go all-out. Irritation surging, Kyle gradually put more strength into his hands.
"…?"
For an instant, a flicker of fluster crossed Ian's face before vanishing. It had been somewhat bearable until just now, but something was off.
Strong.
And it hurt like crazy. That was what Ian thought.
"How is it? Want me to do more?"
At that moment, Kyle's voice reached his ears. It clearly carried a hint of annoyance and irritation. Not wanting to lose even then, Ian spat out words that weren't in his heart at all.
"Is that all? Weak."
Crack!
Right after, a sound of something breaking came from Ian's shoulder.
"It's okay. It's not Kyle's fault. You didn't do anything wrong!"
Even after finishing lunch, Tisha kept following him around, repeatedly saying it was fine. She was clearly worried that he might be fretting or feeling guilty about what had just happened, and so she kept insisting it wasn't his fault.
Guilt? What guilt? I feel nothing but refreshed.
If anything, he felt proud of contributing to the academy's peace. With this, no one would be getting beaten up by Ian—that master of drawing aggro—for a while. Both shoulders had hairline fractures, or so he'd heard. Honestly, he'd expected the shoulder bones to be shattered to pieces, but maybe the protagonist's luck had kicked in. Even so, for a while Ian probably wouldn't be able to swing a sword, let alone lift a fork. Naturally, even if someone picked a fight, all he could do was glare.
"Don't worry, Tisha. I'm completely fine. I told you earlier, right? Whatever happens, it'll be Ian's responsibility. He's not the type to completely lack pride, so he'll probably come up with a good cover story. Like, say he tumbled down the stairs and hurt both shoulders."
One might wonder how you could tumble down stairs and only crack your shoulders while the rest of you stayed fine. But that was for Ian to handle; it wasn't something Kyle needed to worry about at all.
"Are you really okay?"
"Why are you worrying about me? If anything, shouldn't you be worrying about Ian?"
"Why would I worry about that guy?! He kept asking for more and ended up like that!"
What an amusing situation, Kyle thought. The one who'd cracked someone's shoulders during a massage was getting all the concern, while the guy whose arms would be sealed for a while was getting nothing but "serves him right." This was exactly why people needed to manage their image and public favor on the regular.
Kyle continued reassuring the worried Tisha before sending her off to the library. They'd had lunch together, after all, so it was right for her to get back to her own business. If her shamanism abilities grew further and eventually earned recognition even from the mages, there was absolutely no downside from his perspective.
Now he figured he might do a light workout himself before the afternoon lectures...
...But what's this now?
It was incredibly irritating. So irritating he thought he might go crazy. Whoever it was thought they were tailing him without being obvious, but they were being way too obvious. It wasn't Elga, at least. Not Leto either. Definitely not Ian—that guy was a hundred million light-years away from anything resembling stealth. Tisha had gone to the library, so she wouldn't be out until the next lecture. He had no idea who was showing off such pathetic tailing skills.
Unable to take it anymore, Kyle stopped walking and turned around. At that, whoever was following him hastily tried to hide.
"Hey. How about you come out already? I'm starting to get annoyed."
"…."
"You've been completely found out, so just come out."
Who on earth could it be? The most likely candidate was someone from the academy side. For whatever reason, he'd given an academy student's shoulders a rather improper treatment. Even if he didn't get dragged to the headmaster's office, a verbal warning would be justified.
"Um..."
But the one who poked their head out from behind...
"...Nell?"
The freshman from earlier who'd been by Ian's side, going on about serving him and needing to become a knight. That Nell whose gender was impossible to tell at a glance.
"What is it? Why are you following me?"
"Ah, well!"
Their eyes rolled this way and that, clearly deep in some internal conflict. Then, as if reaching a decision, Nell suddenly dashed right up to Kyle.
"Please!"
"...Huh?"
"I want to get stronger too! So please, guide me!"
"All of a sudden?"
"Yes!"
"What about that Ian you said you wanted to serve..."
At Kyle's words, Nell stared straight at him. Reading the look in those eyes, Kyle immediately caught on and let out a sigh.
"Ah... ahh."
The one who'd smashed Ian's shoulders so he couldn't do a thing was none other than himself. So of course this student named Nell had come to him with a request like this.
"Don't worry! Lord Ian will teach me swordsmanship! But I heard that swordsmanship alone isn't enough! If your body can't support it, you're not wielding the sword—the sword is wielding you!"
"Ah... yeah, there's a saying like that... I guess?"
"The moment I saw you, Lord Kyle, I realized it! There's no reason a master has to be just one person! I want to learn swordsmanship from Lord Ian, and physical training from you, Lord Kyle! So please!!"
At this rate, they looked ready to drop to their knees and shout, "I pay my respects to Master!"
Why is there not a single normal person in this damn world? Kyle muttered to himself, even as he diligently looked over Nell's body standing before him.
Too delicate for a guy? But it doesn't seem like they haven't exercised at all, either.
True to the name John Nassen, he'd reached the point where he could gauge someone's level at a rough glance. How much they could squat, how much they could bench—that was basic—and even overall combat power, all of it. By those standards, Nell at least had the basics down. Of course, that was only "basics." Far from satisfactory.
"You said you wanted to become a knight, right, Nell?"
"That's right!"
"Then you've got the wrong address. I don't know how to handle a sword."
"What? Ah! That's fine! Swordsmanship from Lord Ian..."
"That's exactly the problem. You said Ian would teach you swordsmanship, right? Then while learning from him, you'd naturally pick up the stances too, and that would determine which areas need training. But I don't know the physical conditioning needed for swordsmanship, so that's an issue. I might end up teaching you something weird."
Of course, looking closely, Kyle's words had no real persuasive power—they were pure excuses. Raising overall physical ability would naturally be a huge help in learning the sword. Was he saying not to touch the lower body at all when training the upper? No. You had to do it all, comprehensively. You had to build it up step by step while maintaining balance for it to truly become your own.
So why was Kyle dodging with such nonsensical reasons?
It's a pain. I'm already properly playing personal trainer for Tisha and the Saintess, even though I never wanted to.
His own training time was already tight—where was he supposed to find time to look after someone else? At least Tisha was Tisha, and the Saintess was the Saintess—important figures, so he looked after them. In contrast, this student standing in front of him right now had no connection whatsoever. On top of that, he didn't even know this Nell, and of all things, they'd started as "someone who serves Lord Ian!" How bad at reading people did you have to be to ask Ian to teach you something? From Kyle's perspective, they naturally belonged on the "keep far away" list.
"I beg of you!"
But Nell's lower-body attack of dropping to their knees right there on the street was extremely powerful. Thanks to that, they'd perfectly drawn aggro from every direction.
"What? What's going on?"
"Isn't that Kyle John Nassen?"
"Yeah. Looks like someone else got on his bad side."
"Poor thing. Looks like he's planning to send another one packing."
True to being someone who wanted to serve Ian, the master of drawing aggro, Nell had succeeded spectacularly in attracting attention. And the one left awkward—no, the one left wronged—was Kyle.
What bad side? And send who packing?! When have I ever sent anyone packing?!
The guy who'd brandished a sword and talked duel was back attending the academy just fine. The seniors who'd gotten physical therapy were loosening their shoulders after a few days, saying they felt even more refreshed. So who the hell had he supposedly sent packing?! This was truly unjust...
Ah, right. I just came from sending Ian packing.
Letting out a groan, Kyle first pulled Nell up from the ground. Then he tossed a "screw it!" kind of line into Nell's ear.
"For free?"
"...What?"
"You should pay a proper price if you want me to teach you anything, don't you think?"
For reference, a professional trainer's PT fees are John Nassen-level expensive, you know?
At Kyle's words, Nell made an "uhhh?" face of pure fluster.