Overflowing First-Year Bonds
There's a saying called heaven and earth in harmony. It's the ultimate natural balance that creates and transforms all things through the yin-yang principles of the universe—shaking the great earth and summoning lightning from the heavens with nothing but sheer will. Reaching that realm makes one no different from a god, really. But does a being exist that can wield it consciously? Well, the first-years learned today that someone sure as hell wields it unconsciously.
The blue sky began clouding over with dark storm clouds, red lightning flashing ominously from within like thunderbolts were about to rain down any second. The ground trembled faintly at first, but now it was escalating—piercing the eardrums with faint screams that grew louder, as if connected straight to hell itself, stirring primal instincts. Flee or die, but there was nowhere to run, so it was pointless. It was the first stage of death that the body accepted and the mind acknowledged.
As their vision darkened and the light faded, what could the first-years do?
"Don't swing violence around so rudely!! Didn't your parents teach you manners? You barbarian!"
"This isn't some savage era—what kind of evil witch bullies elves who aren't even resisting?!"
Beating up elves who still hadn't grasped the situation? Regrettably, the first-years didn't even have the luxury for that.
"Hey!! Wiyu's getting bigger—is anyone gonna tell me it's just my imagination!!"
"She is actually getting bigger."
""
These damn pointy-eared shits—when trouble hits, I'll make sure to utterly destroy them!!!
Even the four heroes etched into history books with the "hero" title attached, plus the inaugural hero chosen by the goddess (per records). Would you believe that over two generations, heroes suffered like dogs because of past elves? Change, who had existed since those times, had thrown dignity to the wind, unleashing a torrent of curses and wailing that they should've allied with the lords back then to wipe them out. Not all elves are bad, sure, but a whopping 99.9% of the majority are rotten. Even the second-generation hero Kashiro formed a mercenary band but refused elves as comrades—proof enough of their character flaws, but let's move on. Hero tales from history books are mostly distorted, but if every story across a millennium screams "cut ties with elves", then...
With a greatsword nerd clinging to her leg, Beatus riding her back, and Kali gripping her waist, Wiyu Witchcraft still charged forward.
"I don't care if they insult my mom...! She did mess up a lot!!"
""
"But!! I won't tolerate them insulting my friends and Grand Duke (Change), you damn pointy-eared shits!!!"
""
How did such a kind-hearted, warm kid pop out? Did she inherit double what the first-gen lacked? That'd make sense. But when the second-gen, twice as dangerous as the first, was on the verge of berserk rage for that reason, it was a different story.
"Guys, put some muscle into it!!!"
A desperate scream from Yamucha Aranemu dangling from Wiyu's ankle. Twenty guys were pulling on his legs, but they were dragged along powerlessly.
"Man, it's really hard to hate her in moments like this."
"No, top student!!! Don't just watch—do something!!!"
In the chaos of boys and girls clinging to restrain the wild-eyed Wiyu, Ephemera rummaged through her pockets.
"Chocolate, you hear me?"
"Yeah!!"
"Quit acting like a friendless loser and cut the nuisance—can you?"
Ephemera hurled a dagger straight at her face—and hit. Everyone gasped at the dented blade that didn't even pierce, but Beatus shot her a crazy bitch glare when she realized aura had been infused. Still, it worked; Wiyu glanced at her clinging friends and deflated like a punctured balloon, shrinking and bowing her head.
"Sorry..."
"Nah, it's fine."
"Blame the elves' personalities."
"You think Beatus chose to be born like that?"
"Our first-years' bond is rock-solid, in every sense."
"Don't forget excluding the repeaters."
Some witch girl had been causing thrill-packed incidents since midterms and every lecture. The first-years, nobles and commoners alike, were all pretty chummy without distinction. There was a commoner rep but no noble rep—Ephemera, treated as one, even ran free gym and library access. Of course, the duke who grinned at everyone while handing out chocolate like a total ditz witch helped too.
""
"Yes, Grand Duke (Change)."
They eyed the pointy-eared shit who hadn't gotten dragged in, worried he'd yap more. [Change], locking him in a joint hold, signaled to haul him off quick. The first-years exchanged glances. That personality meant he'd be pissed but also feel guilty. Everyone knew he was a genuinely good kid at heart—so Meru Lume stepped up first.
"Hair matters even for guys, right? Come here—I'll do a samurai style for you~!"
"This is samurai style?"
"Yup~ It suits you so well~"
"Why not just slice it off with a dagger?"
Wiyu, awkward with the long hair, stroked her ponytail. Ephemera, who had urgently fetched a ribbon from a friend and tied it prettily, smiled in satisfaction and shook her head firmly.
"Do you know how expensive witch hair is?"
"Expensive as material? Should I share some with friends then?"
Witch hair's value varies by owner. Considering the power in Witchcraft hair, its alchemical worth could buy a castle. But Revo, the alchemy whiz, stayed silent out of tact. Instead, he exchanged looks with Beatus, spun his quick wits, and raised a hand.
"Then, guys only—let's go have fun!! There's stuff to do outside the academy!!"
"Revo, it's a field trip—is that okay?"
"Of course. Profs will allow it."
Knowing profs greenlit anything, Revo brazened it out. While the medical team(?) dragged away the ragged Yamucha and greatsword nerd, they bought time. The boys banded together to keep Wiyu from guilt-tripping into more chaos.
"Behold! My killer singing skills!"
"Duo okay?"
"Two dudes with boobs—feels weird."
"Trash, eat your fries."
"Heh... deep..."
"First time at karaoke."
What did Wiyu's rural village even have? Zard the orc flicked Multrenung's forehead for ordering piles of food cluelessly, but passed it off seeing Wiyu devour it happily. Norris, once-a-goblin guy, sat by Wiyu explaining stuff chattily—a heartwarming scene. Outwardly, two absolute beauties, so eye candy for onlookers.
"Way prettier than your usual sloppy 5:5 part."
"It's samurai hair, idiot."
Everyone laughed when kind-to-all Revo whacked Multrenung's crown with a tambourine for his blunder. Then Radusu belted tunes nonstop to hype the mood. Wiyu hesitated on non-anime songs, so Zard boldly picked anime OSTs to duet. "No coffee discounts for friends' bonds?" Multrenung's tactless line got him mic-smashed by Norris.
The guys' heat kept rising endlessly.
"Hungry, Chocolate?"
Ephemera approached with a master-to-pet vibe. Dogs don't get owners, and owners don't get dogs—no matter Wiyu's reply, she ignored it, knight-esorting her from the boys like a noble lady.
"Eat without holding back, Wiyu! Top student's treating!"
"Yeah, don't skimp or I'll get mad."
"Belly or boobs—which'll pop first? I'm curious, so eat up."
"Y-Yes, ma'am!"
Obviously pricey spot, but Ephemera ordered like a regular.
"Boobs blocking the view down there?"
Genuine curiosity as Wiyu's chest invaded the table—noble etiquette be damned, she judged.
"Listen while eating—it's about the seniors too."
"Might choke."
"Academies hold exchange tournaments like the Academy Honor Exchange Olympia and Intermidle (National Academy Martial Tournament)."
Rankings to decide superiority, but Ephemera called it honorless. Pluwitch Academy skipped as "pointless". Pursuing glory was fine, but higher ranks meant more discrimination, snobbery, arrogance. Top academies were trash heaps, she spat.
"Know why we lack a discipline committee or vigilantes? No need—from first to third-years, we mingle, shatter commoner-noble pretenses, teach harmony."
Issues exist, but laughable compared to others, she grinned. Deaths? Victim's fault for incompetence. Bullied for inferiority? Natural. Low grades? Dumped in inferior classes as laughingstocks. She cackled at such places.
"They discriminate by race, house, commoners—worse the higher up."
No reason for the first academy to bother with them. Mocked as scared of weaklings and failures? They held firm. But now, pride be damned—they entered to graduate the Witchcraft kid.
"Sorry..."
"Why apologize? I was about to say how fun it'd be crushing those vermin's noses."
Ephemera popped sushi in my mouth sweetly, smirking foxily.
"Fighting the Witchcraft spawn no less. And that spawn's the weakest, most incompetent ditz ever—they're underestimating endlessly. Aside from 'first academy' prestige, they'll prove us outdated relics. Those smug academies are fired up."
Worried she'd fumble there? But with their blatant insults, she'd snap and pummel—exciting, right? Everyone shot her you're evil looks at her tale.
"Desperate relics itching to tarnish your mom's legend. No win confidence, so target the easy kid—pathetic, no?"
"Y-Yeah? But wouldn't Mom watch such a tournament?"
"Ah."
""
"Yeah! Super fun!"
"Thought it was fine, but some fainted mid-walk—minor stuff. Fun's what matters..."
Wiyu's rampage didn't hit anyone, but 70% of first-years got mana-blasted into fatigue comas. They toughed it out pretending fine, but greatsword nerd and Kali passed out eyes-open. Beatus, energy-drain succubus specialized, just ragged out—and treated friends to sweets, checking reactions. [Change], drained ghost-white, slumped puppet-like, silent. Beatus inwardly mourned the Grand Duke who'd passed out eyes-open after total exhaustion quelling the mess.
Her final duty: guard against elves tattling to profs/seniors. If they returned for beef, she'd bolt with the loot.
"Hehe, yummy. Want some, Beatus?"
"Nah... full..."
Thanks to whose mana overdose ballooned her belly pregnancy-style... Breathing hurt, but that mana fueled her escape confidence.
But it's too quiet?
Expected instant revenge for elf honor-shaming. Long wait, nothing—odd. Really no one came; others crashed, Beatus solo-guarded.
—No elves griped till end.
"Our Divination prof smoothed it somehow?"
Meat shield pushed forward, but lead prof was capable. Beatus chalked it up and relaxed.
"<....>"
[Change] zipped it for the sweet kid. No elf revenge incoming—their lead prof en route to scold "improper force" met an "accident".
One elf, vengeance-eyed, opened dessert shop door spotting them.
Quietly, she vanished like never there. Bell didn't even jingle.
Familiars serve masters per contract.
Even outer gods.