At Seventeen, Off to the Academy (2)
With less than two hours left before Bern Academy’s freshman entrance ceremony, there were only a few things that had changed from the original story.
First, Lia’s personality had changed.
In the novel, Lia should already have become a splendid villainess by now. But whether my seven years of effort had finally borne fruit or not, she’d grown into a lovely young lady—only a little tomboyish, perhaps, but kind to everyone around her, and obviously a child who had been raised with an abundance of love.
What kind of historical shift such a huge change might set off, I had no way of knowing at the moment.
But even if Lia was no longer a villainess, the overall flow of the original story wouldn’t change all that much.
After all, Lia von Elleves as the villainess was nothing more than an obstacle, a meddlesome roadblock trying to stand in the way of the Crown Prince and Stella’s love.
In a romance fantasy world, it was practically an unwritten rule that love grew stronger through hardship and adversity. But the First Crown Prince had fallen in love with Stella at first sight and looked only at her with unwavering devotion. Even if Lia didn’t step in and provide trials and tribulations, their love line probably wouldn’t suffer for it.
Well, of course, later in the story some strange woman would suddenly appear claiming to be pregnant with the Crown Prince’s child. But that came after they’d graduated from the academy.
It might sound a little selfish to say so, but why should we care who the Crown Prince married or had children with?
I wasn’t his closest confidant, and I wasn’t a major character either. I was just the third son of a swordmaster family based in some rural backwater. Lia was the same. If you stripped away her role as a villainess, she was nothing more or less than the cute eldest daughter of a rich household.
For someone as ordinary as Lia and me, who would be chosen as the Crown Prince’s consort was practically a matter from some entirely different world.
To be honest, I didn’t know what Lia thought about it, but as far as I was concerned, as long as she could graduate from the academy safely, nothing else really mattered.
Once she graduated and lost contact with the original protagonists, she’d never awaken as a villainess. And then I could finally focus on rooting out the cult in peace.
...The cult.
Yes, the cult. The second change: the cult’s existence.
Compared to the Crown Prince’s love life, which had nothing to do with me, this was a far bigger variable.
According to the seven years of investigation Lia and I had done, the cult’s followers—an ominous force never described in the original story—had already infiltrated the deepest parts of our society.
We didn’t even need to look far. Out of the three thousand students and instructors combined at Bern Academy, roughly three hundred—ten percent—were suspected cultists. That should tell you enough.
As I’d said before, the cult’s goal was to sacrifice the innocent and bring about the ancient evil god, Sisyphus, in order to plunge society into chaos.
If the evil god Sisyphus—who was itself a catastrophe of monstrous proportions—were to descend into the world, then my first goal in this life, living a peaceful life, would become impossible. And I’d be unable to see my second goal through as well: watching Lia grow into the most beautiful woman in the Empire, right?
So, to achieve those two goals, rooting out the cultists who had slipped into our society was absolutely essential. Capturing every hidden believer at the academy and turning them over to the heretic inquisitors would be the beginning of that work.
Mm.
Avoid unnecessary contact with the original protagonists as much as possible, use them if they could help me find cultists, and watch Lia become the most beautiful woman in the Empire with my own two eyes.
Having set myself what was, in truth, a rather modest plan, I rose from my seat—then paused.
“Ah, right.”
Come to think of it, there had been a third change too.
Compared with the first and second, this one was rather minor: the top freshman of Bern Academy’s 117th class had changed.
Originally, Stella, the novel’s heroine, should have taken the top spot. But because our Lia had put on such a dazzling performance in the entrance exam, she’d pushed Stella down and claimed first place for herself, with me following behind her in second.
That would have dropped Stella two whole steps to third—third place, I mean. But that would clearly have little effect.
The First Crown Prince, that devoted lover, wasn’t the kind of man who would ignore the heroine just because she hadn’t ranked first.
“If he doesn’t even look at her just because she didn’t come first, then he’s not some romance-fantasy male lead—he’s just a bastard who treats people differently based on their abilities.”
-Knock, knock.
“Cain, what are you doing? The carriage is leaving soon!”
“Ah, my apologies. I’ll be out shortly.”
I closed the notebook where I’d written down all the changes from the original story and put it back on the shelf. Then I stepped out of my room and came face-to-face with Lia, who had been urging me on.
“Lady Lia, are you all ready?”
“Ready. I memorized the freshman representative speech, and I even practiced how to turn around coolly!”
“Pardon? How to turn around coolly?”
“Yeah, want to see?”
Using her left foot as a pivot, Lia spun in place, making a graceful rotation before completing a full turn.
It was a rather elegant movement, almost like a modern rhythmic gymnast. But it was also very different from the formal drill I knew, and, most importantly, I could see a speck of dust stuck on the crown of her head, which only made her look adorable.
“Lady Lia, there’s dust on the top of your head.”
“Huh? Where, here?”
“A little higher.”
“Then here? Is this it?”
“No, not there.”
She kept reaching in the wrong direction, and I couldn’t stand watching anymore, so I extended a hand.
I plucked the dust off the top of her head with my fingers, then gently smoothed down her hair, brushing away the flyaways so it would sit neatly. After that, I held out my hand a little.
“Right here. On the crown of your head.”
“...Ah. Mm, thanks. Cain….”
“It’s nothing.”
I brushed the dust from my hand and looked at Lia. Her cheeks were inexplicably red, and she kept sneaking glances up at me while mumbling under her breath.
“B-but, you know. Cain, compared to when you were little, you’ve gotten really tall…? I’m pretty sure I was taller than you when you were ten.”
At seventeen, Lia was around 160 centimeters, while I was around 180, so there was obviously a height difference.
By now I was tall enough that I didn’t even need high-heeled boots anymore, so I answered without much thought.
“Yes. I am a man, after all. And my family has always been rather tall.”
“Must be nice being tall, Cain. I want to grow, like, five more centimeters at least.”
Five centimeters would make her about 165, which would put her slightly above the average height for women, 162.
I was just idly trying to picture how high I’d need to look to meet Lia’s eyes if she grew to 165 when, for some reason, she bristled.
“Wait a second, Cain. What’s that look supposed to mean?”
“What look?”
“Don’t play innocent. That look you get when you’re smug about being tall and thinking you don’t have to worry about any of this! You’re looking down at me right now, aren’t you!”
“...Pardon?”
I had never once had such a thought, so why was she suddenly assuming things?
Was this that thing people called short-person insecurity or whatever?
I was about to explain that it wasn’t like that at all, that I’d only been looking at her, when Lia—who had been growling at me as if she were trying to threaten me in her own way—stepped forward.
Then she stumbled. Her foot slipped, and her body tilted. I immediately reached out with both arms and gently caught her before she could fall.
“Lady Lia, are you all right?”
“...Hwah! H-hk, hic!”
Apparently more shocked than I’d realized, Lia made a strange noise while still in my arms, then scrambled away from me at once.
Her face was bright red. She checked her academy uniform all over, as if inspecting herself, then took two steps back.
“I-I was just being a little nice to you, and now you’re going to pretend that teasing me never happened! I remember everything! I’ll get my revenge for this humiliation later—later, I swear! Just you wait, Cain!”
“Ah, yes….”
She still remembered the promise we’d made seven years ago, so her memory was certainly good. But wasn’t that line a little too straight out of a generic villain’s script? People who said “just you wait” never seemed to actually manage any proper revenge.
I almost said that, but it felt like I’d lose energy before the entrance ceremony even started, so I just nodded.
Lia, having sworn revenge on me, shot me a blatant glare and left in quick, stomping steps.
“Uh, Lady Lia!”
“—Why, what! Even if you apologize now, it’s already too la—!”
“We’re taking the same carriage anyway, so why don’t we just go together?”
“—...Ah!”
* * *
Two hours later, the entrance ceremony at which Lia would take the oath as the freshman representative began.
Class 1-A of Bern Academy, where the major figures of the story—including Stella, the novel’s heroine—had gathered together.
At the center of that enormous whirlpool, the people most often talked about by the first-year students were unquestionably Lia and me. And Stella.
Even before the entrance ceremony had begun, and before anyone had shown any real ability, we were already the center of attention because the class roster had been announced: the freshman top rank, second rank, and third rank were all assigned to the same class.
Normally, they would have been split across different classes to keep things balanced. But whether by chance or fate, the three of us—the highest-ranked freshmen—had all been assigned to Class A.
And because Bern Academy’s curriculum involved a great many classes conducted by class competition, we had to endure the wary gazes of countless first-year students before the day’s entrance ceremony even truly began.
Mm.
Some of them were practically glaring with murder in their eyes. For students who were only seventeen, the amount of rivalry on display seemed excessive—but at the same time, I supposed it made sense.
Bern Academy was both an officially sanctioned social arena in the Empire and a formal stage on which one could prove one’s ability among peers.
In other words, students who had yet to enter society were constantly competing with one another using whatever abilities they had, fighting a preemptive battle to separate the gems from the stones. So if you felt as though you were starting at a disadvantage, it was only natural to stare back with fierce determination and charge in.
...Yes, that was natural enough, but I had no intention of playing along with these youngsters’ little contests.
Not only that, even at this very moment there might be cultists somewhere inside Bern Academy—and somewhere else in the world—engaged in dangerous schemes.
With these heretical believers being little more than ticking time bombs, who knew when or where they might harm innocent people?
There was no way I could waste precious time with schoolyard feuds and power games between children who still had milk on their upper lips.
So as soon as Lia, as the freshman representative, finished taking her oath, I stepped up onto the platform under the pretense of offering a few words of encouragement to my fellow freshmen. Normally I wouldn’t have had the chance to speak, but being the freshman second rank made it possible.
“Good day, freshmen of the first year, and seniors of the second and third years. I am Cain Reinhardt, the third son of the Reinhardt barony, and the freshman second rank.”
I began with a brief introduction and looked over the crowd. The students’ reactions upon hearing I was the third son of a baronial house split neatly into two categories.
Admiration, or jealousy.
Maybe thirty percent admiration, seventy percent jealousy.
The reason there was more jealousy than admiration was because I was the third son of a barony. After all, the academy was full of the children of high-ranking nobles, including the First Crown Prince himself, who was the direct bloodline of the Emperor.
When some bastard standing on the platform says he’s the third son of a baron’s house, you can’t help thinking, What exactly do I have that’s worse than him? and your shoulders naturally tense up.
“I have something I’d like to say to all of you gathered here, so I’ve taken the liberty of speaking briefly.”
I could feel the hall rustling. Someone muttered beneath their breath.
-What the hell is he on about? Some hick baron’s brat.
-What, is he swaggering around just because he knows how to swing a sword?
-He’s probably just trying to make his face known now, before his ranking drops once the hype dies down.
Regardless of what they said or how they cursed me, I kept going and turned my words toward the cultists hidden at Bern Academy.
“As student council members, the freshman second rank and the freshman top rank will make use of the council’s authority to inspect and investigate. We will thoroughly examine the budget execution of every club and organization within Bern Academy.”
-What? Investigate what?
-What the hell is this bastard talking about now?
Whoever wanted to bad-mouth me, whoever wanted to curse me—I ignored them and continued speaking.
“If any budget is being spent in a way that does not match the proposal you submitted—if we uncover evidence of corruption, of diverted funds, of so-called ‘easy money’ siphoned away for personal use—”
-Hey, freshman! Have you lost your mind? You arrogant little shit, know your place and stop spouting nonsense!
-Someone in the front, drag that first-year brat down from the platform—now!
“—I will punish it without mercy.”
I declared war.