Chapter 6
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: The Classmate with a Suspiciously Perfect Figure (2)
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I'd shown up to the classroom early in the morning, but I hadn't exchanged a single word with Vivian.
You might think this is some pointless nonsense, but surprisingly, this is the textbook way to tackle Vivian.
If you try to greet her or strike up a conversation here to build affection, the Vivian route is over.
Of course, the first time I spotted Vivian during the morning commute event, I tried talking to her.
"...Yeah."
The conversation ended in a curt reply, and starting the next day, Vivian stopped showing up for morning classes.
After failing to build affection through talk, I figured I'd have to go with the gloomy girl's national standard route of "taming through sexual harassment," so I groped her chest the moment I got to school and got expelled.
After countless bad ends like that, I discovered the "silence" route.
Exactly what it sounds like: do absolutely nothing and just sit there quietly.
Honestly, I was pissed off from failing no matter what I tried, so I went with it just to see who would win...
But amazingly, this was the correct answer.
If you stay completely silent like this for about a week, the "small act of kindness" event triggers, and helping her out naturally leads into the standard route.
'And then there's the non-standard route...'
There was also a non-standard route using that erotic novel she's blushing while reading so intently.
If the standard route is pure love taming, the non-standard one is gaslighting brainwashing taming.
So, you asking if I'm going with pure love taming?
Nah, I'm doing both.
The classroom was buzzing with students chattering away, all of them seeming hyped up since it was the first day of the semester.
People usually think the academy's lowest class is full of dropouts, but that's a misconception.
"My dad said he'll give me a share of the trading company if I just graduate properly."
"Nice. Then come to my territory. I got my own independent fief too."
Look at them gilding each other's faces already.
Most of Class 5's students were kids of nobles or merchants who got in with money or influence despite lacking talent.
Naturally, a lot of them had known each other since childhood from social gatherings or tea parties.
I'm from the high noble Calliope family myself, but thanks to my complicated family situation, there are guys who lightly greet me, but none trying to build any real friendship.
'Better that way.'
I don't have enough time for the heroines as it is, let alone dealing with extras.
At that moment, the classroom door opened, and silence fell in an instant.
They'd probably heard a million times before enrollment not to challenge a professor's authority, and even if not, the atmosphere radiating from the professor standing there made it impossible to speak.
"It's Loreos."
A short murmur. But that was enough.
Any student good enough to get into the academy would know exactly who he is.
"...Let me say this upfront. I don't like brats like you."
Right from the start, an insult none of them had ever heard before.
"Bunch of talentless punks who rode their family's clout to get into Carnea."
Yet under the pressure pouring from the battle-hardened mage, not one dared voice a complaint.
"That said, I'll do my job as a professor. Follow what I teach, and you won't die like dogs on the battlefield. But..."
With each word from his mouth, the breathing in the classroom grew quieter.
"Forget all the preferential treatment you've gotten just for being born lucky. I couldn't care less about the fancy surnames tacked onto your names."
Loreos glared at the students with the eyes of a predator eyeing prey.
I'm used to that line from seeing it a million times in the game, but the other students probably aren't.
'Good thing.'
I'm relieved now. My lips curl up slightly at how Loreos' dialogue matches the game almost perfectly.
How beautiful is this? So what if the lines are rough—it's way more normal than having a heroine piss herself in excitement at first sight.
"...That's all."
With those words, the crushing pressure eased a bit, and the students let out short sighs of relief.
"Now, first lesson. Everyone change in the locker room and haul ass to the training field!"
Fuck.
Figures it'd be too easy.
Born a commoner but gifted in magic, he enlisted as a field mage.
Over the next twenty years, he made a name for himself. But six years ago, in the war, he took wounds too severe to continue as a soldier.
He'd never imagined retiring like that.
Having always assumed he'd die on the battlefield, he had no plans for afterward.
So he figured he'd just go back home and live out his days quietly until death.
But the world wouldn't leave him alone.
Now they wanted him teaching at Carnea Academy instead of the front lines.
He refused at first.
But worn down by their persistent visits, he agreed to lecture for five years on the condition they never bother him again—and that's how he became a professor.
It was a forced job, but when he first stepped into Carnea Academy, he still had some expectations.
He thought the empire's future—the one he'd fought for—was gathered here.
He was wrong.
What he felt at the academy was disgust.
Nobles ignorant of battlefield terror brushed off his words as jokes, and talented commoners saw their gifts not as tools to protect nation and people, but mere ladders for climbing socially.
Even his faint passion burned out.
So he took on Class 5's rejects for the remainder of his contract.
The least passionate professor handling the least passionate students seemed fitting.
Instead of expecting anything from them, he'd just teach basic survival.
But...
This time, something was different.
These prideful nobles enduring insults wasn't just out of respect for an academy professor's authority.
He'd laced every word with pressure that even seasoned soldiers would struggle against, establishing dominance from the first meeting.
And yet...
'One slipped through...'
Vivian Beatrice instinctively twisted the flow of mana just enough to evade the pressure.
Impressive enough on its own, but the real interesting one was someone else.
-Eugene Calliope
This was a first.
Students had escaped pressure with abilities before, but enduring it purely with mental fortitude? Never. And not only that—he even smirked like he was daring for more.
'This could be fun.'
Recalling Eugene's relaxed face, Loreos' lips twitched upward.
A spark threatened to reignite in what he'd thought was cold dead ashes.
'...F-Fuck, I'm gonna die.'
I was running laps on the dusty training field.
Academy training divides into knights, mages, and unique ability users, but that's after some time passes.
Newbies mostly do physical conditioning.
Sounds weird, but on the battlefield, no mage just stands there casting.
You can't stay put when a monster charges. Run first to buy time for spells or backup.
So basic stamina is essential, even if not knight-level.
And let me repeat: my stamina is 10.
Average worldwide, but bottom-tier among academy students.
Naturally, I'm lagging behind everyone else.
Proof? The others finished their laps ages ago and are resting, while I've still got half a lap left—solo.
"Hah... hah..."
Wait, not solo. Vivian's with me.
Having dumped all her stats into spirit and mana, she's even slower than me.
Plus, picking a gym uniform sized for her chest left the sleeves way too long, flapping around and making it worse.
"Don't slack off, Eugene! Pretending to be tired from this?"
Professor Loreos glared at me.
He's running with us, over fifty, yet not a drop of sweat or a hitch in his breath.
"...I see. Already showing camaraderie, huh."
He muttered to himself like he got it and chuckled.
What the hell is he on about? No energy to respond anyway, so I ignored him and kept running—then he yelled.
"Fine! I'll watch. The last one in does three extra laps!"
Spouting nonsense, then suddenly three more laps...? He's lost it.
No joke—keep this up and I might actually drop dead.
Sorry to panting Vivian behind me, but survival first, so I poured every last ounce of strength into sprinting.
'...Almost... there...'
About ten meters to the finish line. Keep this pace, and she's last.
Thud, thud, THUMP-!
Right as I neared the line, my foot caught on nothing and I tripped.
"..."
Ah, fucking embarrassing and painful.
What kind of moronic bullshit is this? I hear the class murmuring as they watch.
"Hah... haht..."
Then Vivian passes me. From below, even through the baggy gym clothes, her breasts bounce clearly.
"..."
"..."
Our eyes met as she went by.
I shot her a "please, just once" look, but it didn't work—she crossed the line, sealing my last place.
Since I'm last anyway, might as well catch my breath lying here—then Professor Loreos' low voice rang out.
"...Going this far. Unexpected. But get up now."
"...Hah... just... a moment... to rest..."
"Enemies on the battlefield won't wait! Get up and run!"
Ah, what a shitty world.