Fine, I'll Do It Myself
The deadline for team formation was fast approaching. Yet, not a single invitation had come my way.
"...Why?"
An empty inbox. Unable to accept this reality, I stared blankly into space and muttered to myself.
I had clearly proven myself in the mock battle. Even if my rank wasn't at the very top, fourteenth was still respectable. Sure, I had used a few dirty tricks, but I had defeated Van, the lazy genius! So why wasn't anyone sending me a request?
"Yaaawn... Do you really not know whyyy?"
As I clutched my head in my hands and writhed in frustration, the person sitting across from me spoke up. Her name was Sharin Sazaris. Today, as usual, she had been teaching me the Magic Engraving formulas I had requested.
"I honestly don't."
I really didn't.
"Theeenn, let me tell you what the other kids have been saying."
Sharin pulled herself up from her usual slouched position on the desk. She cleared her throat with a soft *ahem* to adjust her voice.
"He looks like he wouldn't cooperate at all."
She mimicked a female student's voice.
"Isn't his fighting style a bit too dangerous? It might work in duels, but who knows how he'd fare in the Demon Palace."
This time, it was a male student's voice.
"His stamina might be decent, but honestly, his offensive capabilities are pretty mediocre."
Only then did the pieces fall into place.
"...So they think I haven't shown enough to back up my results?"
"Exactlyyy."
To secure a good result in the mock battle, I had fought using a style optimized purely for one-on-one duels. Unfortunately, that didn't translate well to proving my worth to the other students.
In the Demon Palace, one encounters two types of entities: the Apostles created directly by the Evil Sovereign, and the magical beasts controlled by those Apostles. Naturally, these creatures are far from human. As second-years who had already experienced the Demon Palace, the students knew this all too well.
This placed me in an incredibly awkward position. My evasion and durability were outstanding, but the general consensus was that those traits alone weren't enough to conquer the Demon Palace.
I clicked my tongue and swallowed hard. In the game, achieving a high score in the mock battle guaranteed invitations from top-tier teams. Obsessing solely over my rank had been my fatal mistake.
"Sharin, what about your team?"
"All full. I'm a hot commodity, after all."
Her smugness was slightly irritating, but she was the top student of the Magic Engineering department. There was no way her team had any vacant slots.
If I'd known this would happen, I wouldn't have bothered raising my rank in the mock battle. My mind grew chaotic. Another unexpected variable had thrown my plans into disarray.
"And what's this about me lacking cooperativeness? Where else would they find someone as cooperative as me?"
Sharin blinked slowly. Without saying another word, she offered a faint, knowing smile. Sensing a patronizing warmth in her expression, I grabbed her shoulders.
"Hey, spit it out. What's wrong with my cooperativeness?"
"I was juuust passing along what they saaaid," Sharin whined as I shook her back and forth.
I let go of her shoulders. Idiots, all of them, failing to recognize true talent. If they teamed up with me, I could make clearing the Demon Palace look like child's play!
What do I do? At this rate, I'd end up in a leftover team assembled by the professors. If that happened, I wouldn't be able to achieve my goals.
As I agonized over the problem, a metaphorical lightbulb suddenly went off in my head. Come to think of it, why hadn't I thought of this before?
"I can just build my own team."
I could assemble a dream team myself. At my declaration, Sharin stared at me with a peculiar expression.
"Sharin, explain that look. Why are you looking at me like I'm some friendless loser?"
"You can do it," Sharin said, weakly raising a hand.
"Don't come crying to me later, begging to join my team. I won't let you in."
"Mhm, that's fine." She didn't seem bothered in the slightest.
Next time, I'm scraping all the cream out of her cream buns before giving them to her. Now, the real problem started here.
Act 3, Chapter 1's second-year event and Act 3, Chapter 2's mock battle have passed without any major issues.
Next up was Act 3, Chapter 3: the second-years' first Demon Palace campaign. Lucas, having grown significantly since his first year, would head back into the Demon Palace. Armed with the experience of defeating the Apostle known as the "Newbie Killer" at the end of his first year, he would breeze through the early stages of this campaign, only to encounter a brand-new threat.
And soon...
The brother of Nikita, the Dragon Maiden of Calamity, would align himself with the First Prince and foresee a horrific accident that was bound to occur. This was a hard-coded, unavoidable event in the game—one that no player action could prevent. It was impossible to evade. Nikita's brother was practically destined to die due to the laws of causality.
But now...
The Flame Butterfly Chapter had become reality. Did Nikita's brother really have to die? While I questioned it, the death of her brother, Nia Cynthia, was an indispensable event if this world was to follow the original canon. That realization left a bitter taste in my mouth. Because I knew all too well that the end of Act 3 would culminate in Nikita's own death.
Nikita's face flashed in my mind. She appeared cold on the outside, but she possessed a heart warmer than anyone else's. I had already witnessed her breaking down after losing her brother countless times in the game.
"Sharin."
"Yeah?"
"Do you think it's possible to change fate?"
With Lucas's death, the world had already veered off its intended course. I had merely grabbed a fraying rope and barely managed to splice it back together, but this world could no longer return to its original path. That was precisely why I was terrified. Every time a new variable was introduced to a path that had already strayed from canon, the road ahead grew rougher and more unpredictable. Eventually, the only advantage I possessed—my knowledge of the game's walkthrough—would vanish, and I wouldn't be able to guarantee which direction this world would take.
My mind was a tangled mess of hesitation. The bonds I had forged while living alongside them in this world were beginning to shackle me.
The reason I approached Nikita in the first place... was to establish a motive to confront her when she eventually awakened as the Dragon Maiden of Calamity in Lucas's stead. But what about now? The distant reality I had tried so hard to ignore was slowly rearing its head.
"Fate, huh..." Sharin pondered my offhand question more seriously than I expected. After sorting out her thoughts, she looked up.
"Fate is like a massive lump of destiny." A large, liquid-like mass materialized in her palm. She squeezed it tightly with her hand.
"No matter how much strong force you apply to compress it like this..." *Boing!* The liquid instantly bounced back to its original shape.
"It possesses elasticity, so fate itself doesn't change."
So, in the end, fate was immutable.
"However..." Sharin began to squeeze the lump of fate with even greater force. After a moment of intense pressure, the lump finally succumbed and burst with a sharp *pop*.
"Everything in this world has a limit to what it can endure."
If you couldn't change fate, it was simply because you hadn't applied enough force. Therefore, you had to crush it with a power so overwhelming that it would shatter fate itself. That was what she was saying.
"That's incredibly reckless."
"To break a massive shackle like fate, you have to be recklessss."
She had a point. A power strong enough to change fate... Could I ever obtain such power?
If I need it, I'll just have to forge it myself. That was the very reason I had returned to Jerion Academy under the guise of Hanon. Looking out the north-facing window, I could see the distant peaks. The Ancient Dragon Mountains. The time was drawing near.
A Demon Palace team typically consisted of five members. Although this world had become reality and strict game mechanics might not apply perfectly, the basic format remained. After all, entry into the Evil Sovereign's Chamber on the tenth floor was strictly limited to five people. While there was no need to obsess over the number if the chamber wasn't the goal, five was still the standard. Usually, it comprised two vanguards, two rearguards, and one healer.
For the vanguard, there's me. For the rearguard, there's Poara.
Poara was a contractor of the Spirit Sovereign. In terms of pure firepower, she was second to none.
In that case, having Poara as the sole rearguard is perfectly fine. It would be better to invest the extra slots into adding two more to the vanguard.
Now the question is where to find two more vanguards and a healer. I bustled around Jerion Academy, searching for candidates. First, I sought out the second-year martial arts students.
"Ah, s-sorry, I already have a prior engagement."
"My team is already set."
And, as expected, most of them had already formed teams. This was especially true for the top-ranking students.
"Are you insane? Who in their right mind would team up with a guy like you?"
As a test, I even asked the quartet of girls. They recoiled in disgust and hurled a barrage of insults at me.
Wait, it's not a quartet anymore. I realized one of the four was missing.
"By the way, where's your forehead girl?"
"Forehead?" The three of them looked puzzled at first, but quickly realized who I meant and snorted in unison. Their reaction was strange. I could sense a distinct air of hostility toward Seron from the three of them. Did something happen?
"She'll figure it out on her own."
"Why don't you mind your own business?"
Good grief.
"Why are you guys so utterly useless?"
"What?!"
"Why, you little...!"
I quickly turned on my heel and walked away. Not long after, I ran into a familiar face in the hallway.
"Van." At my call, Van, who had been strolling leisurely, turned around. He raised a hand in a surprisingly friendly greeting.
"Hey there."
"Looks like you're coming back from somewhere."
"I was doing some training."
Hearing his reply, the corners of my mouth twitched upward. "Planning on winning next time?" A faint smile played on Van's lips as well. "Yeah. Look forward to it."
The lazy genius had discarded his laziness. I was genuinely excited to see how strong he would become.
"By the way, Van, do you have a team for the Demon Palace?" Having him on my team would be incredibly reassuring.
"Yeah, Isabel came by the other day and asked me to join her team." But he already had a prior engagement I hadn't anticipated. To think Isabel had recruited Van.
Lucas was originally supposed to be on Isabel's team. It seemed she had filled his spot with Van. If she needed a substitute for Lucas, Van was indeed the only logical choice. It wasn't a bad decision.
"I see. Good luck." Without lingering, I bid Van farewell and went on my way. In the end, I had gained absolutely nothing from the second-year martial arts department.
Should I look into the first-year special class? Since Poara was in the special class, maybe I could ask her for a favor. With that thought in mind, I headed toward the first-year floor.
The moment I rounded a corner, someone's face popped up right in front of mine. A broad, pale forehead filled my vision. Reflexively, my hand flew out and smacked it. *Smack!* What a remarkably crisp sound! I stared down at my hand in shock.
"Kyaaa?!" The victim of the forehead slap shrieked.
"A-Are you insane?! Who is that?!" a shrill, venomous voice echoed. She certainly had some powerful lungs.
"It's me."
"...Sweet Potato?" She was still calling me that.
"Why did you jump out of nowhere like that?!"
"You're the one who jumped out, you bruised tomato."
"Who are you calling bruised?!" She had already forgotten the slap. Did I need to jog her memory?
Leaving the huffing Seron aside, I glanced in the direction she had come from.
"What were you doing on the first-year floor?" Seron's shoulders flinched. She crossed her arms as if to shield herself and grumbled.
"...None of your business. Why do you care where I go?" That was true, but...
"You got kicked out of your little clique, didn't you?" Her eyes widened. Her face flushed a deep crimson as she shrieked at me.
"W-What did you say?! Do you think I'm a loser like you? I'm doing perfectly fine, thank you very much!"
A vehement denial is often a vehement admission. As I stared flatly at Seron, her lips trembled before she bit down on them.
Seron had a fiery temper. To put it bluntly, she had a terrible personality. Because she was the type to clash with anything she found unreasonable, her interpersonal relationships were generally a mess. Consequently, she often ended up taking the lead when she was with other girls. While this kind of personality made her useful to have around, it was a completely different story when she turned that hostility toward you.
"You had a fight."
Whatever the reason, Seron had definitely clashed with them. Proving my guess correct, she clamped her mouth shut and glared at me.
"It's all your fault."
Me?
"They said because I lost so miserably to you, you got cocky and started looking down on them."
"But they got beaten up by me just the same."
"...I was the first one to lose."
Ah, I see. They needed a scapegoat to take all the blame, and Seron happened to fit the bill. She had been sacrificed as a punching bag to relieve their stress. Seron pursed her lips, then slowly hung her head.
"No, actually, it's my fault." Although her head was lowered, I could see her shoulders trembling. "I lost because I wasn't good enough. And besides, I was never really close to them anyway because of my personality. They probably only hung out with me because I was somewhat useful."
So she was aware that her personality was the problem. For her to confess this even to me, she must have been carrying a heavy burden.
"Yeah, you hit the nail on the head." So, I agreed with her. They say people grow when they receive validation.
Seron slowly lifted her head. Staring at me in disbelief, her anger flared up once more. "...You jerk, what do you know?!" What a bulldog. Even when I agreed with her, she threw a fit. Come to think of it, wasn't she the one who pointed out that I had no friends and no girlfriend? My eyes narrowed.
"I know more than you think. I also know you don't have a team, which is why you were lingering around the first-year special class to see if you could squeeze in."
Seron froze. Her exposed forehead flushed a deep, embarrassed red. She pressed her knees together and clutched her skirt tightly with both hands. Unable to contain her humiliation, a ragged breath escaped her tightly shut lips. Before I knew it, tears were welling up in her eyes. Oh, wait. She's crying.
"Are you crying?"
"So what if I am?! What do you want me to do?! All the second-year slots are filled, and the only ones left are the people I've clashed with! I can't exactly beg them to let me join!"
She screamed, burying her face in her hands as she collapsed to the floor.
"Ugh, seriously... of all people, to be humiliated like this in front of a burnt sweet potato..."
I quietly looked down at Seron as she began to sob uncontrollably.
"Seron."
"What?"
"I'm making a team."
Seron peeked at me through her fingers, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Just thought I'd let you know."
Leaving her with those words, I turned and continued down the stairs. I was sorry, but no matter how desperate I was, I had no intention of inviting Seron first. Given her personality, if I made the first move, she would undoubtedly try to walk all over me.
If she wants to join my team, she needs to be properly trained first. Seron had a nasty personality. But guess what? Mine was even worse. Let's see who wins this clash of pride between two rotten souls.