My First-Ever Picnic
"Pluwitch Academy is the prestigious first academy—and I heard their curriculum includes all sorts of events, but they even go on picnics!!"
"Don't show your country bumpkin side, Wiyu..."
"But I am a country bumpkin. Coming to the city for academy enrollment was pretty much my first time."
"Well, someone has to stay home and feed the livestock. If everyone's gone, who's gonna raise the cows?"
I countered Grand Duke's point by saying that just farming would eventually hit a limit, so I was looking for a better job. If I earned more money, I could buy more cows, more land... buy all sorts of farming tools and live comfortably. That was the picture in my head. Lately, though, I'd been thinking that if I'd known life wouldn't have money worries, I might not have enrolled in the academy at all.
Anyway, I was getting crushed by academics left and right, nothing was going right, everything was a mess, and stress was piling up. My Spirit Tree Cultivation had failed spectacularly too, making promotion—which was already far off—feel even more distant. I was tossing and turning in my dorm bed, barely sleeping, fatigue building up—
And now a picnic to a new city with my friends!!
"I was so excited I couldn't sleep!"
"So you still didn't sleep..."
Beatus sighed and shook her head at Wiyu, whose eyes were hollow underneath. I had no idea what this picnic she'd been looking forward to so much would be like, but cities had sprung up around the first academy, so no need for buses or anything—just walk a bit from the academy and boom, a city. Everyone thought we could go farther for a proper picnic, but there were academy circumstances, of course. Especially this year, with the notorious troublemaker Wiyu Witchcraft enrolled, they had to choose the picnic spot carefully. The headmaster must be sweating bullets thinking one slip-up and the city could vanish—what's that feel like?
"This is Sword City Arista. People call it [The Flunkies' Village]."
"The official name and the nickname are polar opposites—it's hilarious."
It really felt like an ancient city. The gap of ages you could sense, like the whole place was preserved to keep that era's culture intact.
"Feels like I'm at a folk village..."
"That's a pretty cheap take."
"That's the real holy sword!! Look at that, Wiyu!!"
"It looks huge? Is it a greatsword? That's the one from when they beat the demon king 50 years ago?"
"Hah, this is why clueless idiots... There are tons of holy swords!! That's the Holy Sword Arista used by the second hero, Kashiro!!"
The greatsword fanatic was all hyped up, pointing wildly at the massive sword plunged in the plaza's center and yelling. I thought heroes reused the same holy sword... but apparently each hero has their own. Makes sense—with so many gods in the world, they'd hand out different holy swords, so tons of variations.
"It broke once, but together with Hero Kashiro, it sliced through the evil Demon King Benarez and brought light back from darkness—that legendary tale—"
"Eh, I'm not really into hero stories..."
Thud.
The greatsword fanatic's eyes went wide in genuine shock. Then, as I stared silently, she started sniffling, all gloomy.
"Wah... No wonder when I, the guardian, pulled out my replica, the reaction was so cold..."
"I was solving math problems instead of digging into hero lore."
"Zero romance, for real."
"Actually, zero dicks too, Mr. Self-Proclaimed Male Witch."
Beatus chided her for having dreams too small for her power, while Kali teased. Hero tales, huh... Mom's probably in some too, but probably the villain side, so I decided not to dig.
The greatsword fanatic said she could learn about Hero Kashiro's feats from now on and rattled them off, but I forgot them right away.
"The second hero was also the leader of a mercenary band and so popular with women they called her the Hero of Women—"
"But if you pull that holy sword, you become a hero?"
"Exactly!"
The greatsword fanatic answered my question with pull it and you're a hero! So why not pull it? But she recoiled, saying you need qualifications first, and no one would anyway.
"You can become a hero by pulling it—but it comes with the horrific duty that surpasses even the emperor!!"
What's a hero? Someone who saves the world, right? The moment you pull the sword, you're saddled with a hero's mission—sounds like a grim future. That's why the holy sword in the plaza became the city's symbol: everyone gawks but no one touches.
"There are people in different uniforms?"
"From other academies, probably. There are so many academies. It's close enough to walk for us, but this place is popular?"
Beatus said picnics here are mainly to let in academy failures who couldn't enroll anywhere else gawk at them, boosting self-esteem. I doubted my ears—was that a valid reason for a picnic?
"Why can't people just live loving each other?"
"I wanna say don't lose that kindness and purity, but the ones who say that always turn villain later."
Questioning if treating people like zoo exhibits was right, I toured the city with my friends. Everyone was buying this and that since we were out—less picnic, more group shopping. I thought about getting something, but Darkside Syndicate had better stuff, so I hung back.
Anyway, it was a picnic, so the Divination professor—who'd become the tour guide—enthusiastically shared hero stories.
"What can I say... Never lost once, super popular with women—too perfect, can't relate at all."
"That's why she's a hero."
Maybe the Divination prof's explanation—about it being the era with the most heroes, thus tons of disasters—was too boring, along with her hawking Hero Kashiro's autobiography. I dozed off, snapping awake at mocking snickers, turning with a dumb look.
"Her? A Witchcraft who's dead last at the academy?"
"A duke who can't beat commoners—disgrace to nobility."
"Didn't the first gen swallow her talent too? Pfft."
Elves with distinctive long ears were gossiping behind my back. I had fantasies about elves, but they were all arrogance, and this was their idea of fun...! I wanted to protest the injustice, but being dead last was reality, so I pouted.
"Hing, I didn't wanna be last..."
"Sigh, ignore those assholes yapping loud enough to be heard, our little witch missy."
Beatus handed me candy, saying we all know how hard you're trying, no need to cry. Kali clicked her tongue, saying they must be from Nature Academy since elves stick together.
"Long-lived race, born with talent. Makes 'em arrogant."
"They used to eat people back in the day."
"Eek, really?"
"From their view, what's the difference between humans and dogs?"
I needed to study history. Elves used to hunt and roast humans... Kinda makes sense? The greatsword fanatic growled and told them to scram, but the elves just laughed like what's this dog barking? Mocking like they didn't know leashes or muzzles—super unpleasant.
But it didn't stop there—they spotted Beatus and kept mocking.
"Look, one of those inferior races' dirty lust spawn."
"That's her? The byproduct of a horny incubus banging a goat?"
"Beastkin get treated like animals without rights, but that's actual livestock."
Elves pinching noses like smell shit? Beatus ignored it casually, digging her ear—but
"Hahahahaha!!"
I burst out laughing without thinking—what the hell did I just hear? It was Mom's habit—our family quirk: laugh when angry. So yeah, it had been a while since I got mad.
"Fuckin' pointy-eared shits. What'd you say???"
My eyes flipped, fist clenched, charging—Kali grabbed my waist to stop me. She tried lifting, but I stuck like glue to the ground. Instead, her massive frame dragged like a doll with my monstrous strength, paling the Pluwitch Academy first-years.
Wiyu doesn't realize it, but she exudes that witches' aura everywhere. It usually stops at sweet scent—but the "hostility" surging with rage made everyone gasp.
Wiyu was so good-natured she'd understand even if a repeat-year swung a sword at her. No one had seen her mad, so the extreme reaction hit hard. They clung to stop her, but even the greatsword fanatic grabbing her arm got dragged. Plus, her witch power—usually suppressed to avoid hurting anyone—gushed out. Hair lengthening, screamed.
"No, fuck!! Even first hero Radamu became the demon king 'cause of elves!!"
"You pointy-ears again?"
In long history, elf (long-three) caused most problems. The four who invented heroes, including first hero Radamu, suffered fixing elf messes—famous fact. Felt like history's page would read "Second Witchcraft awakened by elves"—first-years clung futilely.
"What, the flunkie with bottom duel scores—a useless witch throwing a tantrum without knowing her place?"
"Goat and witch make a perfect set. Their inferior bits match right up."
"Don't these idiots sense danger?"
"Elf trait—noses so high they don't grasp till heads crack."
Elf students mocked with "facts"—Wiyu Witchcraft was dead last, flunkie, worst in practical duels, can't use magic right. (Hearing that alone, you'd wonder if such a useless witch should exist.)
"Wiyu!!! Wiyu!! I'm fine, okay!!! Please hold back!!!! Can't you hear me?!"
Beatus grabbed her shoulders, pleading desperately—Wiyu Witchcraft panted, forcing emotions down. She just gave off a vibe where you'd avert eyes and back away if you saw her on the street.
"No need to tangle with those slanderous mongrels! Not fighting is winning, got it?"
"......"
The warlord groveled desperately, licking shoes. He could toss pride for world-saving—lordly trait. Friends begged her to hold back, Grand Duke too.... Wiyu decided not to ruin everyone's fun picnic.
"What're you glaring at? Gonna tattle to Mommy?"
Bam—
An elf embedded in the wall—pitiful sight. Elves' heads smashed into floor and walls everywhere, limp. Chests rising/falling meant not dead—Beatus sighed relief.
"What just happened...?"
"Dunno, just thought they'd shut up if they ate dirt."
Beatus casually untied her ribbon, replying yeah? to Wiyu's overwhelming pressure, each word dripping mana. Good no one died... but outwardly, it looked like Pluwitch Academy picked a fight with Nature Academy.
"My guess: they armed up heavy for 'self-defense' on a picnic, picking a fight on purpose."
Kali inferred from the over-armed elves—no need for weapons on picnic.
"So, how do we clean this mess?"
"Dump it on the supervising prof."
All eyes turned to the prof. Contrary to fears of scolding, the kindly sage smiled, accepting all.
"I foresaw this unfolding. That's why I came."
The Divination prof wailed again about being meat shield due to handling Witchcraft. Come to think, she was elf too—pitying looks all around.
"Hah, an academy that accepts commoners must be low-quality down to its level. Well, using violence like flunkies—doesn't take imagination to guess their character."
The elegantly dressed Nature Academy supervising prof spoke with "respect" as a fellow elf senior prof. Anyone hearing would question if that's respect—but that's elf speech for ya.
"Preemptively crushing students with no intent to fight... How low-class. Pitiful how they get excited like beasts."
The Divination prof silently watched the elf prof call inferiors typical.
"Still, Pluwitch Academy joins the honor exchange matches for the first time this year, right?"
—Yes, they'd decided to graduate Witchcraft by any means. As the first academy valuing honor and respect, treating commoners equally—that was Pluwitch. They'd skipped needless inter-academy exchanges to focus on student growth. Some academies mocked them as cowardly has-beens without honor. Aiming to crush the "first" title as empty hype in debut.
Nature Academy was one, provoking on purpose.
—What they didn't know: even elf academies had mostly "young" students.
"U-Um, Prof? How old this year?"
"Pardon? Hah... Planning to mock my youth? I'm... 40."
Not mockery—pure amusement. Elves from first Witchcraft era just smiled. Damn species: won't respect inferiors till heads crack.