I Want to Bully the Protagonist!
I want to bully the protagonist!
As I approached Ern, the crowd parted like animals fleeing a tiger.
Seriously, I have no idea why they're acting like this. I've never done anything to earn a notorious reputation.
Maybe they're worried I'll challenge them to a duel over some careless word?
Pfft. Even I wouldn't pick a random person and demand a duel.
Duels need to be worth something. I'm not some lunatic who declares one just because my honor's slightly tarnished.
...Lorenzo's case was an exception for image-building purposes. Special circumstances.
Lost in thought for a moment, I waited, but Ern spoke first.
"Do... do you need something from me, Lady Ilisha?"
He'd called me that during our first meeting with Reinhardt too, but why keep the distance with me alone? Was I different in his previous timeline? Or does he think I should act more like a commoner?
"No need for 'Lady'—just call me Ilisha."
Either way, I didn't like how he was keeping me at arm's length.
Because...
I wanted to see that handsome face of his twist and crumble because of me.
If I had to pin it down, maybe it's jealousy.
Ern's the protagonist of this world, after all.
Everything he does succeeds, everything works out, his efforts are always rewarded, and even luck smiles on him. The perfect hero.
And that... kinda pisses me off.
I wanted to shove a bone-deep failure into his endless string of victories, just once.
Not to utterly destroy him—just give him a moment he'd regret forever.
A memory he could never shake off.
Of course I like him. How could I not adore the protagonist of the novel I loved?
Maybe that's why I want to tease him even more... because I care that much?
I think I get the mindset of boys who bully the girls they like.
"In that case... alright. Ilisha... it is."
"And you... 'you' feels a bit off too. Mind if I get your name? You seem kinda familiar, somehow."
Oblivious to my twisted motives, Ern gave his name while still eyeing me warily.
"Ern... nice name. I'll remember it."
"Pardon? Oh, uh... thanks...?"
He was still scanning me, trying to read my intentions.
Can't blame him. Scary, right?
Last time around, this girl stayed meek till she died. Now she's wandering around and zeroing in on him of all people.
He'd be thinking, 'What the hell is this girl's deal?' Totally understandable.
But what can you do?
I just came over to break the ice today. No big plans.
No trials to throw at him right now, anyway. Nothing comes to mind.
"If you keep being so stiff, I'll get embarrassed."
I pushed a little harder, and he reluctantly took a step back.
"Like... this, then?"
"Yeah."
I gave permission, but wasn't his switch to casual speech a bit too quick?
Even if nobles and commoners died equally in his past life...
Normally, a noble speaking casually would get a 'No, this is fine for me too' from commoners—that's the standard play. Sure, the academy preaches equality, but class lines still exist subtly. Between nobles and commoners, low nobles and high ones, and so on.
I figured he'd refuse at least once, but he accepted right away. Protagonist perks, huh? One of a kind.
"So... what brings you here?"
He'd already guessed there was a reason, but I didn't want to end it there, so I made one up on the spot.
Bonus: get to see him squirm.
"Well, you've been glancing my way during class, and it was bugging me. Mind telling me why?"
"Oh, that..."
As expected, he couldn't answer straight.
Obviously. He couldn't say, 'You weren't here before I regressed, so why are you now?'
I smiled sweetly, waiting for his reply.
How would our hero dodge this one?
"...I was just curious how you got into the academy. You didn't seem like you'd be in this class. But now I get it—you wield an Aura Blade, right? Didn't peg you for Sword Master level."
After a beat, he pulled off an amazing evasion, swerving like a pro racer.
I could've pressed harder, but I applauded his effort inwardly. Clap clap clap.
Good boy. That twist deserved a pass.
"Just a split-second flash, though. Wanna see?"
If he said yes, sorry Ainshel, but I'd draw it again. My arm would freeze solid, but that was the point.
I was dying to see his face when his request made my arm ice over.
"Nah, I'm good. Saw it during the duel. And... that power. It looked like your body can't handle it. Right?"
His instincts are razor-sharp.
Now he was grilling me, but I was enjoying it anyway.
Chatting with the protagonist is always like this.
Push or be pushed—either way, it's fun.
"Spot on. Sharp eyes, huh?"
I admitted it freely and clapped for him.
Hearing that, he frowned faintly and asked,
"Then... how the hell did you even train swordsmanship?"
Oh, that's what he wanted to know? Well, not sure it'd help even if I told him.
"Imagination, mostly? Sometimes sparring with Father. Occasionally channeling aura into the blade and swinging."
"A sword forged at the cost of your body..."
His furrowed brow softened into pitying eyes.
And those eyes were on me.
Fireworks exploded in my head at the realization.
My body swayed.
I barely kept from collapsing, but it was close.
Who knew the protagonist's worry could feel this good? If I were healthier, I might've started drooling.
"Ilisha!"
"I-I'm fine. Just a little dizzy."
He lunged to grab me, but I stopped him with an open palm.
If he touched me now, I might really collapse—no joke.
"That doesn't look fine...!"
Oh, do I look that bad? I'm gritting my teeth to hold back the grin.
"...Really. This is nothing."
Even now, I picked words to stoke his misunderstanding, drawing out more reactions.
As hoped, he looked at me with heartbreaking pity.
From unknown threat to someone worth saving—perfect.
"Whew... talked too long. Sorry for taking your time."
"No, it was... enlightening. Got to practice casual talk with a noble... you sure you're okay?"
Even then, he fussed over me.
"...I'm frail, but not that frail."
"Good... if you say so."
"Gotta get back to training now. Should greet the professor too. See you later, Ern."
"Yeah, Ilisha."
He started to say more, lips parting, then closed them—probably thought better of it.
Great choice coming to the Swordsmanship Hall!
Grinning inwardly, I approached the professor guiding students. His face was scowled tight.
Not worried—angry.
"You're late. Greeting and arrival."
Compared to other instructors who'd avoided my eyes, this was refreshing.
What to say?
'Didn't know?' 'Sorry?' 'Problem?'
I chose carefully.
"...Hello, Professor."
No matter how late, no matter how annoying—gotta do what I gotta do.
I clasped my hands and bowed politely. He returned it, barely.
"They said upstairs to accommodate you, but don't expect that from me."
Aha. That grumpy face was because of my special treatment.
To his threat—or warning?—I replied calmly.
"I'd appreciate being treated like the other students."
"Fine... basics are there, at least. Come. Simple measurement first."
He led me to a wooden dummy.
"Hit it full force. Rumor says you wield an Aura Blade, but I won't believe it till I see it. Want treatment fitting your skill? Prove it."
The professor demanded proof.
I could, but then it'd be back to Cecilia—problem.
So, compromise: aura only, no blade.
Yesterday's blade had strained me anyway; this wasn't the place.
Just prove I can swing a sword properly.
"Excuse me, then."
Activating my frozen ether tore inside again, but toned down, it was bearable.
I channeled ether from my hand to the sword, assumed position.
Knees bent. Torso low. Eyes on target.
Careful breaths to stifle coughs.
One flash-draw.
The blade sliced the dummy silently, invisibly.
Sheathing and stopping the flow, the dummy finally slid apart at an angle.
-Aura only, and that clean?
-Didn't even see it...
-What technique is that?
Didn't notice the crowd gathering while focused.
Whatever—no need to shoo them.
"...Ngh."
Using ether still stung inside.
Perfect excuse for Cecilia.
Smiling at the professor.
"How's that?"
He eyed the bisected dummy and me, grunting bluntly.
"Not all talk, then."
Still sour-faced, but the open hostility was gone. "You can wield aura, so train freely."
No longer an annoying pampered noble—now someone who could hold a sword right.
"So... that's why you chose Quick Draw Sword Technique."
Then—a voice, listless yet piercingly clear.
I turned. A girl in Eastern garb stared straight at me.
Dissecting me with her eyes.
First time feeling this, I was flustered when she approached.
Then I recognized her.
Ern's senior, Eastern exchange student, the Sword Ghost.
Yeon.
She was interested in me.
Dead seriously.
Like she'd decided something the instant she saw my sword.
She strode up, bowed, and asked.
"Could you teach me that sword technique?"