Elicia Frentz's First Step
"Why not?"
After class, the place I headed to resolve Yuri's situation was the faculty building.
It was little better than snitching, so it hardly sat well with me, but it remained one of the most orthodox solutions available. Of course, depending on the case, it could just as easily make things worse.
But it seemed I had misjudged from the start. Yuri's homeroom professor, whom I had expected to at least put on a show of concern, showed not the slightest intention of fixing her situation.
"The academy is an educational institution, not an orphanage. Why should we listen just because someone like you comes scurrying over to whine? You know full well attendance here isn't compulsory. If you don't want to be here, leave. Weak? Don't make light of the academy. This place exists to raise the finest talents on the continent. If someone's weak, that's their own fault. At least in the class under my charge."
"But...!"
"Enough. I recommend you stop overstepping. I've already said more than enough to someone who isn't even the party involved or one of my own students. If you want to talk further, go see your own professor."
Not that it would change anything—
With that, he spun his chair back around and began examining the documents stacked on his desk.
An ironclad refusal.
Any further words would not even earn the pretense of being heard, so I turned instead toward Ferent, the professor in charge of my own class.
"Then at least help me transfer Yuri into our class. The bullying would disappear on its own, and if any of it lingered, I could look after her myself."
Ferent listened in silence for a long moment before speaking.
"Regrettably, impossible. Elicia, I understand how you feel, but Professor Selen's words are sound doctrine. Affairs of Class 2 fall under the authority of its homeroom professor, Selen. Neither I nor even the headmaster may infringe upon a professor's educational policy."
As the continent's premier academy, every professor here was an authority in their field. Their pride in their own values needed no elaboration. With egos that high, backlash at any intrusion was only natural.
"Professor... do you also believe, as Professor Selen says, that weakness is a sin? That the weak deserve to be trampled?"
"Testing the chivalry of a former commander of the Imperial Knights, are we? As provocations go, that was rather decent."
Ferent stroked his short goatee and grinned.
"Separate from my personal opinion, it remains impossible. If you wish to help that child, bring me a justification persuasive enough to convince Professor Selen."
"A justification? Fine. Whatever justification you require, I will bring it without fail."
I bowed, opened the door to the faculty office, and stepped out. His voice followed at my back.
"I'll be looking forward to it."
March 31st. Already a full month since I had enrolled at the academy.
Before leaving for school, I stood before the full-length mirror in the corner of my room and slowly studied my reflection.
I still had not grown used to washing and drying it, yet the silver hair that first caught the eye was worth every minute spent on it.
Next came the face check. Just as the now-dead TS mage Sem Mogra had said, an appearance that needed no makeup at all was remarkably convenient.
On top I wore only a light uniform jacket over the gym clothes prepared for today's sparring. Normally the look would earn a reprimand, but today there was no need to care.
Bottoms were, of course, gym pants. I had no desire to wear a skirt today of all days.
I pulled socks from the drawer and slipped them on. Today's pair was white—matching the gloves.
Like it or not, the figure in the mirror was unmistakably a woman's.
On any ordinary day I would have let the sight pass without thought, but today, with my resolve firm, it was different.
Elicia Frentz.
A name I had borrowed only briefly for an assassination contract. Once it would have been nothing more than a name that brushed past me; now it was not.
The name of a girl who had died young. The name I now had to live under.
Honestly, I had no reason to care what she had been like. Yet because I had inherited her identity, she occupied my thoughts in ways I myself could not understand.
Few would still remember a mere young lady who had never even been head of the house, but perhaps I, at least, could remember her.
The true Elicia Frentz, whose face I had never even seen.
I never received permission, but I will take your name.
In return, I will pay the usage fee in full.
So do not feel too wronged. At this rate, you are the one who came out ahead.
"El~ If you're late, we're leaving without you!"
While I was steeling myself, Anne's voice—utterly oblivious to my mood—drifted in from outside the door. Of course I knew that, for all her words, she would never actually abandon me.
"Three, two, one! We're going~"
She counted down on her own and her voice began to recede. Wait—she was actually leaving me behind?
Thud-crash.
I jammed the remaining glove on, barely avoided a fall, and flung the door open—only to find Anne not disappearing into the distance but standing right outside.
Beside her, Cielian glanced my way and gave a light wave.
"You came out fast. Let's go, then!"
Watching Anne stride ahead without the slightest awareness that I had nearly sprawled flat, I could only laugh at the absurdity.
Which was why I jabbed her in the side and received a fist in return.
Griffin Academy was a vast institution, and as such it hosted a variety of events.
One of them was the monthly inter-class tournament held by the Swordsmanship Department. Neither the Administration nor Theology Departments had anything like it, and the Magic Department—busy researching all semester—certainly did not. It was the sole exclusive event of the Swordsmanship Department.
Each class selected its top students for sparring matches. The results barely affected grades; it was pure spectacle. Yet for students who spent every day studying and training, such events were rain in a drought.
The rules were simple. Five participants per class. Winner-stays format: the victor continued against the next opponent. The sole exception was that each class's top student, as captain, had to be placed last. If the captain came out first and swept the field, the event would lose all meaning.
Our class's lineup was me, Cielian, Anne, Ian, and the class president with whom I had exchanged a few words. Naturally Cielian was captain.
The first opponents, Class 2, fielded four boys and one girl. I already knew that the ringleader of the group that had been tormenting Yuri stood as their captain.
"If none of you mind, may I take the vanguard?"
I put the suggestion to the others. The order of appearance was strategy in itself; I could not simply decide alone. But today marked the first step of "Elicia Frentz." To paint the picture I wanted, stepping out first was best.
"Do you really need to go first? Wouldn't it be better if the weakest of us—me—went out for reconnaissance?"
The class president pushed up his glasses. The point was not wrong, and I could have accepted it, but—
"What's the harm? She wants to go."
I had already coordinated with Anne, Ian, and Cielian, who were close to me.
I felt a twinge of guilt toward the president, but it could not be helped.
"If that's the case, then fine."
In exchange, every subsequent slot was decided with as much weight given to the president's opinions as possible.
"Then let the first contestant from each class step forward."
And so the tournament began.
At Ferent's call I rose and climbed onto the sparring platform. My opponent was the sole girl among Class 2's five—the same one who had ordered Yuri to buy her chocolate bread last time. Honestly I had not expected her, yet meeting her here felt almost welcome.
We faced each other. A brief exchange of courtesies, and the match began.
I had no intention of dragging it out. The instant it started I exploded forward.
As a top student in her own class she retreated skillfully, trying to parry the wooden sword I thrust at her.
What I intended to show her, however, was overwhelming strength.
Wielding Aura in a spar was forbidden, but reinforcing the body itself did not violate the rules. Becoming a woman had weakened my raw muscle, yet my Aura had not diminished.
Unless the opponent was a monster on the level of Anne or Cielian, there was no reason for me to lose a contest of power against another girl.
Clang!
A single clash sent her wooden sword flying far across the platform.
For a swordsman, gripping the blade was the most fundamental of fundamentals. One might be driven back with the sword still in hand, but dropping it almost never happened—
unless the disparity in strength was absolute.
Which was why she, too, made the mistake of staring at her empty hand in shock.
The match was not over. Even after losing the weapon she should have acted at once—rolled across the floor, used simple hand-to-hand techniques, anything to slip past my attack and reclaim her sword.
That she failed was proof she was still an immature student, and that she had felt the gulf between us.
That was enough. I halted my wooden sword above her shoulder.
Ferent, acting as referee, seemed to know I would stop; he ended the match without special intervention.
I brushed the wooden blade lightly across her neck as I withdrew it from her shoulder.
Then, smiling brightly, I turned to Ferent.
"Shall we move straight to the next?"
In short, three more times after that. One after another I sent the Class 2 students who climbed up tumbling back down off the platform.
I was never the sort to lose to kids like these. Having a monster like Cielian in the same class made it easy to forget, but I had once aimed to become the youngest Sword Master.
The final student—the captain of Class 2—mounted the platform. He seemed unbothered that I had toppled four in a row; he even smirked as he came up. Fine. Keep smiling.
"I wondered what you were relying on when you acted so cocky last time. Turns out you actually had a card up your sleeve."
"You're too kind."
"Well, a commoner swinging a sword well only goes so far."
"My, you must be quite the swordsman yourself. Forgetting even the simple academy rule that no distinction is made between commoner and noble—your written scores must be abysmal, yet somehow you still made captain."
A light provocation.
"Ha. You actually believe that empty rule? Girls like you end up spreading your legs underneath eventually."
His retort was sharp. Ferent looked ready to intervene, but I moved first.
I peeled off the gloves I had scraped together every last coin to buy for this day and flung them at his face. I never wore gloves anyway.
Smack!
Thrown with sudden emotion, the gloves struck his cheek before he could dodge and dropped to the floor.
Click, click. I walked slowly off the platform, retrieved the real sword I had left with Anne, and returned.
Shing.
The keen blade slid free of its scabbard. Unlike the wooden practice sword, a chill radiated from the steel. Its tip pointed straight at the opponent before me.
He had responded to my provocation better than expected. Lacking a justification? Then I would manufacture one by force if necessary.
"'Elicia Frentz.' As representative of House Frentz, I challenge you to a duel for the insult you have offered."
His face flushed purple. Being slapped out of nowhere would enrage anyone. So—
"If that pisses you off, come at me, you piece of trash."