Infiltrated the Academy (3)
On the morning of the academy’s opening day, Zeron rolled off his bed and thudded onto the floor. Without bothering to pry open his heavy eyelids, he crawled on all fours toward the bathroom and somehow managed to wash himself. Once the water hit his skin, his body finally felt willing to move. He threw on some clothes, buckled his sword at his waist, hesitated for a moment, then allowed himself exactly one drink.
“Hoo…”
Spring. The air was still cool, and hazy cigarette smoke drifted through it. Leaning against the windowsill, Zeron stared down at the bustling scene outside, lost in thought. The recent dreams were too unsettling to dismiss as mere nonsense. The bandit attack had happened in the exact same location as the one in his latest dream. If he hadn’t gone to pick up the kid, would the scene have unfolded exactly as it had in the vision?
He clicked his tongue and ground the cigarette butt into the ashtray. It might have been nothing more than overthinking, but it wasn’t something he could simply shrug off. A warrior of Zeron’s caliber possessed instincts that were never empty delusions. They tended to be accurate two times out of three—a fairly reliable brand of guesswork.
Suddenly he remembered the dream he’d had before arriving at the academy. What the hell had that been? Who was the woman crying in front of him? And who had been killing him?
All sorts of thoughts tangled inside his head.
“Whatever… it’ll sort itself out.”
In the end Zeron simply brushed it all aside. Thinking about it now was pointless. Even if he died… he wouldn’t have many regrets. Although, not getting to see the daughter who took after him might sting a little.
He let out a dry chuckle, tossed the cigarette butt into the ashtray, and started moving. The entrance ceremony was starting soon. He had spent too long organizing his thoughts and would need to hurry.
Zeron sauntered toward the magic department building. When he stepped into the auditorium, students were already fidgeting and buzzing with nervous energy. He swept his gaze across them and immediately spotted a head of vivid red hair in the distance. Already made a friend? The kid was chattering away with another girl.
Ah, eye contact. The brat stared at him for a second, then stuck her tongue out. Still as rude as ever. Zeron casually raised his middle finger in reply and headed for the platform.
“Oh my, are you the new instructor we’ve been hearing about?”
An unfamiliar woman approached him. She had flashy pink hair and matching pink eyes. Despite barely reaching his chest in height, her breasts were so large they looked impossible to hold with one hand.
“Yeah. Who are you?”
“I’m Iris, homeroom teacher for the swordsmanship department. Iris de Polhuian.”
She offered her hand, so he shook it. Her hand was soft overall, yet covered in calluses in several places. He was surprised by how well-trained it felt.
“Zeron.”
“Nice to meet you. By the way, I saw your lesson plan… Are you serious?”
“Hm?”
What had he even written on that thing? He’d been too lazy to put any real effort into it. After thinking for a moment, he vaguely recalled. He had basically said that since none of the students would have proper fundamentals, he would start by teaching the basics. Nothing strange about that.
“I am serious. Is there a problem?”
“The students are going to revolt. You might even get complaints from the parents.”
Zeron let out a disbelieving laugh and dropped into a nearby chair. Revolt? Complain? What the hell could they actually do about it?
“Well, once they’ve got the basics down I can teach them other things. Not that I expect it to happen.”
“Hmm…”
Iris’s eyes narrowed in a strange way. Then she smiled brightly and took the seat directly in front of him.
“All right then. Let’s both do our best for the next year.”
The academy’s entrance ceremony was nothing special. A middle-aged man with a cold, stern face—the dean of the magic department and headmaster of the entire academy—simply droned on and on. The Jeferon Kingdom this, Jeferon Academy that, the boundless grace of His Majesty the King who also served as the school’s patron, and so forth. Like most ceremonial speeches, it was a long, empty lecture with zero nutritional value.
“Haaam…”
Zeron yawned while scanning the sea of student heads packed together like bean sprouts. Red… red… There she was. The kid was sitting with her eyes wide open, listening to the headmaster’s speech with surprising focus. Not that listening hard would do her any good.
Next came the introduction of the faculty. When it was Zeron’s turn, he stood up, thought for a second, and realized he had nothing to say. He didn’t even understand why they bothered with this ritual in the first place.
“Um… I’m the temporary instructor, Zeron. Students from the combat department might see me again. That’s it.”
He sat back down immediately. A wave of bewildered stares rained down on him. What more did they want him to say? The course description had already been written in the syllabus anyway.
While the students were debating whether they should clap or not, a small pair of hands began applauding from somewhere in the crowd. Clap clap clap. A cute, reluctant sound. It was the kid, glaring at him with axe-like eyes as if she had a serious complaint. The mechanical applause of the rest of the students followed her lead.
Having safely passed his turn, Zeron felt the back of his head prickle and glanced around. The professors were staring at him with clear displeasure. Well, that made sense. Most of them were nobles. A mere commoner acting so arrogantly wouldn’t sit well with them. On the other hand, the fact that Iris was smiling brightly at him was the truly strange part. Not that it was any of his business.
Right after the entrance ceremony, classes began immediately. Countless students let out groans of despair, but rules were rules. The students split into the swordsmanship, magic, and academic departments and headed to their respective buildings. Once there, they found their assigned classrooms and took their seats.
Medeia was in Swordsmanship Class A. Despite being named after a great archmage, her talent for magic was so close to zero that it might as well not exist. In truth, the swordsmanship department was basically the combat department. Swords, spears, axes, whips, firearms—any subject even remotely related to fighting fell under its umbrella. Firearms were taught as a general education course across all three departments, but that was beside the point.
“Hey, did you see that instructor earlier? Wasn’t he just sleeping?”
“You mean that Zeron guy? Yeah, I saw him. Pfft. He’s a commoner. Does he even have the skill to teach anyone?”
Medeia sat in the front row and did her best to ignore the whispers coming from behind. They didn’t know anything about him. Sure, he probably had been dozing off, and she wasn’t entirely confident in his teaching ability either… but Uncle was still a decent person. That was just how it was.
She was sulking and chewing on her lip when someone spoke to her.
“Oh, we meet again. Medeia, right?”
“Flone. You’re in Class A too?”
“Hehe, I got lucky and did well on the entrance exam. Anyway, nice to meet you again! Let’s get along!”
While she was chatting with Flone, the classroom door opened. A beautiful woman with striking pink hair walked in.
“Hello everyone! I’m Iris de Polhuian, and I’ll be your homeroom teacher for first-year Class A!”
She was a lively homeroom teacher. She talked so smoothly and cheerfully that thirty minutes passed in the blink of an eye.
“Oh dear, time already flew by. Did everyone complete their course registration in advance? From now on, please head to the locations listed in the notice and attend your classes! Let’s all do our best together for the next year!”
Iris spread her arms wide, asking for applause and cheers. A mix of goodwill and utter bewilderment rained down on her in the form of clapping. Medeia also smirked and clapped before gathering her things. This was second period… a general education class called Practical Swordsmanship. She needed to head to the training ground behind the swordsmanship building. The instructor was… Zeron. Uncle.
Zeron walked with a deep scowl on his face. He had taken a short nap during his spare time, and sure enough, he had that same fucking dream again. The one where the sky split open and all kinds of horrific monsters poured out. Countless people died. He had casually said the world was ending, but maybe it really was going to end?
Or maybe it really was just a meaningless nightmare.
“Oh.”
When he arrived at the training ground and looked around, the facilities were surprisingly decent. It was spacious, and both indoor and outdoor arenas were available. He had dreaded having to teach in the rain, so this was perfect. Nodding in satisfaction, he headed toward the spot where the students were gathered.
Let’s see… Only five people? As a brand-new instructor who didn’t know anyone and had zero accumulated data on them, he found it surprising that five students had signed up at all. Maybe they had failed to get into their preferred classes and picked this one as a last resort. Either way, fewer students meant less work, so Zeron considered it good fortune.
“Oh, what’s this? The kid’s here too.”
“…Don’t act like you know me during class.”
For some reason the kid blushed furiously and hung her head. Zeron briefly considered ruffling her hair just to see her reaction but decided against it. She might get sulky.
“Let’s see here…”
The class composition was the kid, one sneering girl who looked like a pain in the ass, one dead-eyed male student, one loud laughing idiot with an empty head, and one shady-looking bastard. Two girls and three boys. Not bad. Since they were all just kids anyway, their gender didn’t really matter.
“Right. Class. I have to teach class.”
Zeron unfolded the folding chair he had picked up on the way and sat on it like it was a recliner. He stared blankly at the sky for a moment, stuck a cigarette in his mouth, and spoke in a voice dripping with obvious annoyance.
“For now… just do a thousand vertical cuts.”
In the regressor’s eyes, dark emotion flickered.
Out of the thirteen lives he had lived, Zeron had personally slaughtered the majority of humanity four times. There had been four additional instances where he had witnessed Zeron’s rampage before dying himself, so the actual number was likely higher. Of course, Zeron’s sheer martial prowess had proven quite useful in the battles against the Void.
But that was all. Even if they won the war against the Void, Zeron was no different from a bomb that could detonate at any moment. In the twelfth loop, they had successfully eradicated the Void. Yet later, after Medeia was assassinated and David committed suicide from the shock, Zeron fell into darkness. Humanity was wiped out.
Even if Medeia had not been assassinated, it would have happened eventually. Zeron’s descent into madness was practically fated. In other words, the conditions for a peaceful ending were twofold: eliminate every last Void, and eliminate Zeron.
However, removing Zeron quickly was no easy task. The regressor had already failed four times trying to kill him and had been killed by him ten times. He had long given up on defeating the monster through direct force. Zeron was a monster. He did have one clear weakness… but he was the kind of madman who overcame it with sheer willpower. At the same time, his mental state was surprisingly fragile; the slightest trigger would cause him to fall into darkness like a glass cannon.
If that man were to accept the power of the Void… there would be no future at all.
The regressor’s eyes gleamed. A red aura flickered between his irises.
This time, for a happy ending.
It was a blood-red resolve.