Chapter 85
Chapter 85
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 85
Chapter Title: Butterfly Effect for the Writer (5)
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***
Academy raid incident had erupted, and two days had passed into the dawn.
Principal Himeena sat in her office, wrestling with a thick stack of documents labeled 'Damage Report'.
Treatment costs and compensation for casualties numbering nearly in the hundreds.
Massive damages from the battle and restoration fees.
Protests and persuasions pouring in from all directions.
The complex material and political issues seemed endless, no matter how much she processed them.
The principal set the documents down for a moment and rubbed her temples.
She hadn't slept in the past two days, her head throbbed, fatigue had built up making her eyes dry... but she couldn't even dream of resting.
Because the real problems hadn't even begun.
'...Damn vulture reporters.'
Even at this moment, journalists were swarming from around the world.
The Australian military stationed on the island and the U.S. Navy were controlling access and blocking information leaks as much as possible...
But the Academy wasn't some military facility; they couldn't censor every bit of incoming and outgoing communication.
Stalling parents and staff families with "We're assessing the situation..." had long reached its limit.
By the time the sun rose, the media, having grasped the situation, would flood the news with articles.
'I expected it... but it's exhausting all the same.'
The principal rubbed her temples again, thinking of the criticism that would rain down on the Academy.
It had to happen during a slow news season with no major stories.
Manchuria was drawing some attention, but even that seemed about to wrap up.
To the hyena-like media outlets, this Academy tragedy was an opportunity they couldn't miss.
Once public opinion soured... those who had long eyed the Academy would pounce.
Especially France. They'd been throwing tantrums for over ten years to elevate Grand École des Surhumains above Lord Howe Academy, and they'd bring up this incident endlessly to tear it down.
'Three months until the Superhuman Olympia... this is going to be a nightmare.'
The principal sighed and picked up another report.
'Analysis of Relationship Between Transfer Student and Holy Sword, and Response Measures'.
She read it slowly. Meticulously, not missing a single word.
The report written by the dwarf teacher after going all the way to Manchuria... wasn't long. Nor was it substantive.
How the Holy Sword and the transfer student met, what circumstances led to their bond, what their current relationship was exactly...
Nothing was properly uncovered. Just speculation upon speculation upon speculation.
Frankly, it fell short of standards.
But the principal didn't throw it away or tear it up.
It fell short of standards, but it gave her the information she'd hoped for.
[Confirmed that Cheon Yeomyeong possesses a secret relic related to the 'Comet Sword'.]
The principal checked that line several times, then reached for the phone prepared on her desk. Or tried to.
The moment she grabbed the receiver.
"Ahem."
A small cough came from behind.
The principal gathered her mana and checked the mirror on her desk. Seeing the reflection, she sighed.
"...What brings you here at this hour?"
"The task you commissioned is complete."
A woman wearing a blue mask covering half her face up to her lips, and a long blue coat reaching her calves.
"...I didn't expect President Morine herself to come report in person."
"You're an important client; I couldn't send just any employee."
As their brief conversation continued, the principal tried not to be conscious of the report she held.
She slowly, feigning naturalness, set the report down. Then deliberately turned her body to completely hide it from the other's view.
The gesture might feel excessive, but to the principal, even this seemed insufficient.
This was a report related to the 'Holy Sword' itself. She couldn't even let an outsider see the title.
Especially when the other was the head of a comprehensive information management company... simply called an information guild.
Did her acting work? Fortunately, the other didn't seem to notice the report.
The other extended a hand toward the principal without so much as glancing at the documents on the desk.
"First, please review the intelligence."
In the Blue Rat's hand were two sheets of paper slightly smaller than her palm.
No explanation was needed; the principal realized they were spell scrolls containing the Blue Rat's famed memory transfer magic.
"...You could have just given me a regular report."
"This is safer."
The principal accepted the scrolls without further argument.
The two scrolls were titled 'Current Status of Spies Within the Academy' and 'List of External Instructors for Special Training and Coercion Strategies'.
The principal glared at the titles, then after a moment, waved her hand dismissively.
"The fee will be deposited to our usual account. Good work."
It was a clear dismissal, but the Blue Rat didn't leave the room. She simply watched the principal quietly.
"...What else?"
"I have something to... request permission for."
"Permission...? What kind of permission?"
The principal felt an inexplicable chill at the word 'permission'. What on earth was she planning that required asking for permission?
"I'd like to have a conversation with a certain student. Unofficially, of course."
"..."
'Unofficially'. What a quaint way to say sneaking into the Academy.
Still, it wasn't as big a request as she'd feared. She nodded with a sigh.
"Do as you like. If a parent wants to see their student, what reason do I have to stop you?"
"..."
"Now go. Have a good time with your daughter."
But the Blue Rat still didn't leave.
Instead, wasn't she smiling awkwardly under her mask, staring at the principal's back?
"...You're not going to see your daughter, are you?"
The Blue Rat nodded silently. Affirmation without words.
"...Hoo."
The principal didn't ask who the Blue Rat was going to see. No point; she wouldn't answer honestly anyway.
"...Fine. As long as you don't harm the student, I permit it. Though I doubt you would... just don't get caught by the military."
The moment permission was granted, the Blue Rat's figure vanished smoothly from the room.
The principal glared at the spot where she had stood for a moment, only turning back to her desk once she was certain no presence remained.
"Layer upon layer of mountains..."
The principal made a bitter face as she looked at the scroll titled 'Current Status of Spies Within the Academy'.
But she didn't use it right away. There was something more important now.
'Special Training External Instructors List and Coercion Strategies'
Lifting the scroll that could alter not just the Academy's fate but each student's destiny, the principal pondered briefly.
Her deliberation didn't last long.
"If there's no path, climb the mountain."
The next moment, she infused mana into the scroll.
***
Five days after the large-scale terrorist attack.
The Academy was struggling to regain normalcy.
The principal prioritized repairs to the students' dormitories and the main building above all.
Fortunately, the construction didn't take long.
Unlike other areas struggling to clear thousands of zombie corpses, the dorms and main building were surrounded by areas where the Holy Sword had turned every zombie to dust.
In any case, the main building repairs finished in three days.
They could have started classes immediately, but the principal didn't force it.
She labeled all classes as 'temporary sessions' and left attendance up to the students.
Some students tilted their heads at the decision.
But the faculty, especially those from military backgrounds, strongly approved.
The students' ordeal was too severe to resume normal classes right away.
The sudden terrorist raid, hordes of zombies overwhelming everywhere...
Even one would be traumatizing for life, and they'd endured both in succession.
Even second-years who hid safely in shelters reported mild stress, and among third-years who suffered direct casualties, students inquiring about withdrawals surged.
Of course, not all students were sunk in trauma. Lord Howe students were different from ordinary ones.
They were superhumans who handled mana, each overcoming trauma in their own way.
One priest-aspirant built a memorial for the fallen staff and held prayer sessions to ease the grief.
Another holed up in the training room, immersing in practice.
First-years who witnessed the battle firsthand were especially driven to improve.
Some even skipped classes to pester upper-year combat instructors, troubling the teachers.
As a result... the Academy still hadn't fully regained normalcy.
Especially classes labeled 'temporary sessions' had a vastly different atmosphere from usual.
Subjects like ethics or world history had low attendance, and even magic or faith education saw most students unable to focus.
The sole exception: combat classes.
***
In front of the first-year Academy main building, outdoor training ground.
"Students, it's been a while."
In the vast space accommodating nearly a hundred students moving at once, the dwarf teacher addressed them.
"I'm Margan, in charge of today's interpersonal combat class. Since the previous instructor, Mr. Antoine, is hospitalized, I'll be handling temporary interpersonal combat sessions for the time being."
It might seem odd for Margan, who taught ethics, to handle interpersonal combat, but no student complained.
They remembered him on the day of the terror, covered in zombie blood and flesh outside the shelter.
Unaware of this, Margan sighed in relief seeing their reactions.
"As this is a temporary class, I'll focus on fundamentals rather than the regular curriculum. I appreciate your understanding."
Like a seasoned teacher, he proceeded with the lesson.
"As you know, interpersonal combat encompasses superhuman vs. superhuman and superhuman vs. civilian engagements. So first, you must learn to properly control your power as societal members..."
Standard class: explaining theory of mana and martial arts as superhumans, then demonstrating briefly to teach combat techniques.
As the lesson continued for a while, one student interrupted.
Aren't there any practical techniques for real combat, beyond the basics?
Whether because it was too simple for martial arts specialists or due to the recent terror, every student on the training ground shared the sentiment.
Any way to counter guns?
How to fight zombies?
Isn't this just 'interpersonal combat' as in controlling strength so you don't kill civilians?
Margan didn't ignore the gazes and questions directed at him. He listened briefly, then replied earnestly.
"I understand your desire to learn practical combat methods after the recent unfortunate events..."
The dwarf teacher met each student's eyes as he continued.
"But especially now, fundamentals are crucial. Teaching a toddler just learning to walk how to run is no different from deliberately tripping them."
His words were sound logic. Not everyone agreed, but none could easily refute.
The students fell silent, brief quiet filling and fading from the training ground.
"Ahem. Then, back to the lesson..."
As Margan cleared his throat to resume, another interruption.
What about sparring then?
This time, a different voice from the earlier interrupter cut him off.
A soft boy's voice.
One Margan knew well... no, everyone here knew.
"...Jeon Yunseong. Sparring? What do you mean?"
Margan and the students' gazes turned to Jeon Yunseong at the training ground's edge.
He flinched briefly under the sudden attention, but soon continued with a resolved expression.
"Sparring between students, and watching it— isn't that all part of interpersonal combat? Especially in a temporary class."
"...Jeon Yunseong."
"And we just happen to have a student who can share real combat experience."
Jeon Yunseong said this, turning his head to the opposite side.
At the end of his gaze, in the very back row of students, stood the golden-eyed transfer student.
Cheon Yeomyeong. The one who saved the entire first-year class.
Jeon Yunseong addressed him solemnly, as he quietly listened to the lesson.
"Cheon Yeomyeong."
"?"
"...Let's have a match."
As Margan sighed and pressed his forehead, excited murmurs erupted among the students.
***