Hellish PE Class (3)
Fortunately, no eyes focused on me as I stepped forward. Whether it was because they had tried lifting it themselves and figured even someone as outstanding as me couldn't possibly manage it, or simply because they had no energy left to spare for anyone else, I couldn't say—but I was grateful either way.
If I had to guess, it was probably the latter. The ordinary students were just clustered in little groups of three and five, doing nothing but gasping for breath. They looked as if they wanted to say something to each other, but given that they could barely breathe properly, I had no idea what they thought they were going to accomplish.
It wasn't that I was being sour just because I had a friend now. I simply couldn't understand the sight of them. Did gathering together actually make them feel any more comfortable? Why were they so obsessed with clustering like that?
By contrast, the ones who could use mana breathing techniques were in somewhat better shape. Unlike the ordinary students who had simply collapsed onto the ground, they were all still standing on two feet. They even seemed to have enough stamina left to trade words with one another. Of course, the only opinions they were trading were variations on what kind of teacher is this guy?
Each of them had their own reasons for paying me no mind—yet even so, there was one person who kept staring straight at me. That would be the golden sun himself. I didn't sense any hostility or wariness in it, just pure curiosity, and that interest was far too heavy a burden. I almost found myself thinking a gaze full of malice would have been preferable.
Looking back over both my past life and this one, I had never encountered anything this persistent. That was exactly why it frightened me more. What on earth did he see in me that made him stare like that? For all I knew, he might be the stereotypical blond, tanned thug who was ridiculously into women.
I think I'm pretty ordinary, though. Does "woman" just mean "fair game" to him?
The thought that a genuine thug who went around sleeping with every woman he could find was looking at me with those eyes sent a full-body shiver down my spine. Even if my body was female, my mind still wasn't, so the moment I imagined being pinned down I nearly gagged.
Don't think about it. There's no need to dig that deep. Better to focus on the cube for now. That should help me forget.
Judging by how smoothly the teacher had produced the cube, this wasn't the first or second time he had done this. The bandages wrapped around the handle were stained a dirty yellowish-black and dark red, as if they had soaked up the pain and despair of every previous victim.
Blood. That's definitely blood. The image of some student who had charged in out of sheer stubbornness and scraped his palms raw flashed through my mind. Leaving the stains like that without even wiping them off—the instructor had to be a real piece of work.
The moment I gripped it, I felt the malice of whoever had made the thing. The design was structured so that if you tried to lift it with both hands it would slip, making it even harder to raise. They had literally built it to say don't even try lifting this.
I put my strength into it and pulled, but it didn't budge so much as a millimeter. You probably needed to be at the level of the protagonist in the later half of the story before you could lift this with one hand. I shifted my stance a few times and tried again, but nothing changed. All it did was turn the thought that I couldn't lift it with my own strength into certainty.
"If it seems impossible, there is no need to force yourself, Student Baek Hoyeon. If you wish to give up, say so."
I couldn't lift it with physical strength alone. That was only natural—my body barely had anything that could even be called muscle. People said beastkin were stronger than humans, but the reason for that was simple: the weak ones had already died out. Even someone as ignorant of this world as me could be sure of that much.
Mother had told me that in the old days it was routine for one beastkin tribe to vanish and another to spring up every single day.
They had rounded up children who couldn't even be used for labor and disposed of them all at once. If Father hadn't founded the Empire, I probably would have been buried the same way.
Fortunately the Empire had been founded, so nothing of the sort had happened. Because of that, even someone as unremarkable as me had been able to grow up, and because of that I had discovered a talent of my own.
"I shall try once."
A look that said go ahead and try, then. I had spoken the words, but I had no real confidence it would work. Anxious imaginings even flickered past—what if I failed and only made a complete fool of myself? The teacher already clearly disliked me; if I handed him something to sink his teeth into…
I had to succeed. Failure was not an option. Gathering my mind, I sent a message down toward the deep places of the ley line.
—The child of Byeolbi asks the master of this land: Are you there?
No answer came. Some of the more mischievous gods deliberately refused to answer, only appearing after you had already used pure magic to scold you with who dares use pure magic without the land master's leave? So I called out once more to make certain.
—Hoyeon, child of Byeolbi, asks the master of this land. Are you there?
—……Who wakes this body? The faith that once turned toward me has vanished, and the ley lines have fallen still. Do you call upon me only to mock one who waits, unsightly, for disappearance, O human?
It took a fair while before any meaningful reply returned; the god really had been sunk in a long sleep. I had expected as much, but it seemed true that the gods of this land were all either dead or fading into oblivion.
So they really did force their faith and ley lines onto the gods they themselves invented. Now I understand why I always felt more disgusted every time I passed near a church or heard people going on about their god.
The merciful and just deity they cried out to was nothing more than a bandit who had stolen the faith and pure magic that should have gone to other gods.
…This wasn't the time to dwell on that.
—I am called Hoyeon, child of Byeolbi. I wished only to ask the master of the land whether I might use pure magic. If I have disturbed your long sleep, I offer my apologies.
—A child of Lady Byeolbi… I have committed a discourtesy toward an honored guest.
Lady Byeolbi. Did this one know Mother? I wanted to ask, but the instructor was starting to look at me strangely, so I hurried things along.
To anyone watching, it would just look as if I had declared I would lift the cube and then closed my eyes and stayed frozen in that pose.
—You may find me rude, but the matter is urgent, so I must ask. May I use pure magic?
—Pure magic, is it. Were it only up to my heart I would pour it out freely, child. But you have seen, have you not, what has become of this land. Every ley line has been sealed and defiled. With the mere handful remaining to me, the most I could manage would be to split the earth. I am sorry.
—No—rather, I am the one who feels more sorry. You already look hard-pressed, yet asking for your help is no different from leaning on someone in that state. But I do not need even that much pure magic. Just enough to lift the thing I am holding will do.
—What do you mean to accomplish with so little pure magic? You cannot overturn the earth, nor create a lake. Do you truly say that amount is enough?
It was exactly like a grandfather who wanted to give his grandchild pocket money but had nothing left in his pocket to hand over. Whether you called it an ability or a talent, the only thing I could claim as special was that I enjoyed the favor of the gods.
Considering that other shamans and priestesses broke their own fingers or sacrificed living people or danced themselves half to death just to catch a god's attention, I had once thought this was a pretty good deal. I soon realized that thought was wrong.
Having someone staring at you twenty-four hours a day is not a pleasant experience.
Even if the gaze is a kindly one, an outcast like me just starts wilting under the sheer weight of being watched. When I was younger I had even resented Mother for passing this blood down to me, but later I came to accept it. This, at least, was something special that belonged to me alone—something no one else had.
—Yes. That will be enough.
—Unlike a certain someone, you speak so prettily. Is it because human blood is mixed in…
"…Student Baek Hoyeon. How long do you intend to stand there like that?"
—I am sorry to ask, but I must request it of you.
—Very well. Do so.
Georg's educational philosophy was unshakable.
In the matter of receiving instruction, there was no such thing as high or low birth. There were only those who taught and those who learned.
That, at least, was a conviction he would yield to no one. Of course, as a pure-blooded elf he still stood above every student absolutely. Even when his long-dead benefactor and comrade the Hero had told him to fix that nasty habit, he had never listened.
To a man like that, Baek Hoyeon had been an unpleasant student even before he ever laid eyes on her. The mere fact that a beastkin was transferring in had already been enough to rankle him—and then they had the gall to ask him not to offend her, because if he mishandled things this continent would once again be plunged into the flames of war?
Even if the Academy's headmaster himself had made the request, Georg could not easily accept it.
The very man who had rolled up his sleeves and rooted out the status-based discrimination that had once run rampant through the Academy was now gathering every faculty member and pressuring them to give special treatment to one single student.
I thought he was a decent enough human.
The longer Georg watched Hoyeon simply standing there with her eyes closed in front of the special kettlebell, the greater his dissatisfaction with her grew. She showed no courtesy toward a superior, and no respect toward her fellow students.
It was the same even now. When it had already been confirmed beyond doubt that she lacked the ability to lift the thing, what difference was there between stubbornly insisting she could and just standing there with her eyes shut?
"…Student Baek Hoyeon. How long do you intend to stand there like that?"
Just as his patience was about to hit bottom, the anomaly occurred. An ominous aura—one he had believed he would never feel again after the Demon King had been struck down—wrapped itself around Baek Hoyeon.
Impossible. Unless the Goddess had suddenly vanished, that aura should never have been able to surface on the earth again. Yet regardless of what he thought, he knew better than anyone what it was.
It was demonic energy.
The Demon King had not revived, and the seals were intact—so where in the world was this demonic energy leaking from? While he stood there in confusion, she paid him no mind at all and slowly raised the kettlebell. More precisely, the earth itself was rising along with the kettlebell.
She lifted it past her knees, past her stomach, and finally to chest height, then spoke to Georg.
"I have lifted it. I shall take my leave."