HTACS 26

Chapter 26

D/Z SAGA Act 1, Chapter 1.

Subtitle: Common Dormitory Ghost Commotion.

A truly meaningful episode that foreshadows the harsh Zephrin life to come.

The episode itself is simple.

Rumors spread among the first-year freshmen that a ghost appears in the dormitory every night, and Eve comes to the dormitory to investigate the truth.

Then something resembling a real ghost appears, and she joins forces with Kelterus to defeat it.

It’s a lighthearted Act 1, Chapter 1 that can be enjoyed casually, and compared to the stories that unfold later, it’s just a drop in the bucket—but it holds a very important branching point.

In short, the heroine’s future diverges somewhat based on the Act 1 choices.

Since the original work assigns heroines for each route and the ending changes depending on which route you take, Kelterus’s actions naturally affect the heroine’s future.

If things go well, affection reaches maximum, triggering final awakening and personal growth. Conversely, if he shows no interest at all, she may become twisted on other routes.

And Eve receives the direct impact of this.

If Kelterus takes the Magic Department route and becomes a knight for Eve, she becomes the Princess of Light—but if he takes the Knight Department or hidden routes, her colors shift, or in severe cases, she goes mad.

And Act 1, Chapter 1.

If the incident is resolved before Eve arrives, or if Kelterus is of no help to Eve—

“I remember Eve’s behavior pattern when entering the Knight Department route without managing Eve’s affection was the worst.”

Dark lord.

Tarnished light.

The slightly annoying and tiresome narrow-minded student council president route.

“Oh my, how could a person possibly get more annoying than this?” you might think—but it happens. Well, the annoyance just multiplies…

“That Eve was kind of a loser, wasn’t she.”

A narrow-minded person who can only judge everything in the world by stats.

That’s the ending of Student Council President Eve von Lohengrin—who didn’t take her own route and didn’t even have a catalyst for awakening.

I still remember.

“First-years at 12. Second-years at 13. Third-years at 14. If your average stats are below this, I’ll expel you all at once.”

Yes. She said that. And she didn’t just say it—she actually did it.

Because of that, from Act 4 of the hidden route onward, I couldn’t recruit a single late-blooming party member.

Third-years at 14. At this rate, all third-years below 14 would be expelled.

“…14?”

Huh?

—

Even now she’s annoying, but without Kelterus she becomes even more annoying—my Imperial family register mate and, unbelievably, legally designated as my younger sister, Eve von Lohengrin.

They say we’re siblings who couldn’t accept each other from birth, but in this state where authority and power are tilted toward my younger sister, her merciless blade cuts down her older brother.

“Awakening doesn’t necessarily have to happen in Act 1, Chapter 1—and by Act 4, 14 is a perfectly achievable stat.”

All stats at 14 is a bit messy, but it’s not an impossible range.

Even if other stats are low, if you get one main stat to around 16, Eve will spare you.

Yes.

Eve will spare me.

“…Bullshit.”

Beg for my life from my younger sister?

I’d rather choose death myself than grovel for a miserable existence from my Imperial family register mate!

Wolfram, you may have no stats, no stamina, and all sorts of other deficiencies—but do you have no pride?

Wolfram von Lohengrin, stamina 2, scraping by in hellish team fights.

A life where I spare lives? No—I won’t live a life where I entrust my life to others.

A life where I raise my stats to 16 and get permission to survive in the academy?

I have no intention of living such a pathetic life.

The path is set.

—

That evening, Aila came to the convenience store.

She stared intently at the signboard letter-writing I was doing, then tilted her head.

“So, Wolfram, what are you doing?”

“Training myself so I can live on my own.”

“Huh?”

“I need to raise one stat to 17.”

“Why?”

“So I won’t be pathetic.”

“………?”

Aila kept tilting her head as if she didn’t understand until the end, but soon lost interest and started drinking the energy drink she’d named “Rebellion’s Five-Pointed Star Beverage.”

“Anyway, so that repetitive work has meaning, right?”

“That’s right. It affects agility.”

“Aha. The stat increase effect through repetitive actions. I know about that too. But no matter how much I practice magic, it never goes up for me…”

“Each stat becomes increasingly harder to raise as it goes up. You know that, right? Ten thousand mages with 15 mana can’t match a single mage with 19 mana.”

“U-uhm. That’s right. Haha.”

Aila looks oddly pleased. Why?

Ah. Is it because her own stat is 19?

Anyway.

“But when stats are low, increases through repetitive actions come relatively easily.”

“Oh my, so you do know how to put in such humble effort?”

“Stat 1 built through repeated effort and Stat 1 built through talent may have the same number, but the user’s proficiency level is different. Because they’ve used it that much more.”

“Yes. That’s true.”

Saying that, I resumed my repetitive work, and Aila, like Nephti, watched my work with a gentle smile.

Why are they both like this, really.

—

But no matter how much I wrote and erased signboard drafts, and no matter how neatly I made them as if using a ruler, agility wouldn’t rise that easily.

In D/Z SAGA, the conditions for stat increases through repetitive labor are either the user does it an enormous number of times, or they do high-difficulty work—one of the two.

So the system probably judged my signboard drafting as not particularly difficult work.

If so, I need to do something more high-difficulty…

“Ah, Doughnut Senior! Thank you!”

“We’ll enjoy it! Thank you!”

“Yeah.”

While making doughnuts ordered by first-years, I was lost in thought.

How can I make my work significantly more efficient?

It’d be nice to earn more money too, and if I think of it as stocking the convenience store…

As I was thinking while frying doughnuts, I heard strange screams from behind.

“Eep. Eeeek!”

“W-what?!”

A monster inside Zephrin?

We’re not at the stage for that kind of episode yet, are we?

I hurriedly turned around, and there were terrified first-years. And at the end of their gaze—it was there.

Disheveled hair, tattered clothes, trembling hands.

I let out a deep sigh.

Why did this appear here?

“A m-monster? Senior, is that a monster?”

To the first-year’s urgent question, I shook my head and reassured them.

Don’t worry. That’s not a monster.

That’s—

“A graduate student.”

—

The first-year fledglings left, saying things like “That’s a graduate student?” and “How can a person…” while trembling with fear.

Soon, only me and the graduate student remained at the cart. After finishing off four doughnuts and a shake in one go, he let out a big breath.

Fortunately, I wasn’t meeting this graduate student for the first time—otherwise, I might have called the guards. Anyway, this was the person who normally shuffled toward the cart like a zombie at dawn, but I’m not sure why he was in front of the freshman dormitory at this hour.

The graduate student’s name is Zolf.

He kept expressing his gratitude toward me.

“Th-thank you. Thank you so much.”

“That’s fine. But why are you here? Isn’t it time to be in the lab?”

“…Y-yes. Yes.”

Zolf flinched at my words and just kept nodding.

Hmm.

Come to think of it, Nephti, who had come back from selling with the cart a while ago, said something like that.

【Another one regressed to infancy yesterday and fled the lab, saying he was going back to his freshman year.】

“Did you run away from the lab?”

“…How did you know?”

“The rumor’s already spread. A graduate student regressed to infancy and fled, saying he was going back to his freshman year.”

“Th-that’s not it. I’m perfectly sane. I just, I just want to go back to my first year.”

That’s what they call being crazy.

Anyway, if a graduate student appears where someone is doing business, the first-years will be too scared to come near. Besides, in “this world’s” setting, having a graduate student here isn’t good either.

“You’re from the Magic Department graduate school, right? This isn’t a good place for you to be.”

“Ah, I know. I know I’m dreaming a stupid dream.”

“That’s not what I mean. It’s not good for the children’s education.”

“Huh?”

“What’s your mana stat? No need to ask. As a graduate student, it’s at least 16.”

“Yes.”

“And as a graduate student, the manifestation, willpower, and control of your mana are beyond what fledglings could even dream of imitating.”

“…Yes.”

“Aside from mana color, you know what happens when a mage with strong will lingers around freshmen with no mental barriers or magical techniques, right?”

“…Infection occurs.”

That’s right.

The reason Zephrin’s first-years attend the common department is, in short, for careful greenhouse cultivation. Except for a few exceptionally talented ones, first-years have weak magical techniques.

What does this mean?

The simplest example: they don’t know how to use their own mana, so they constantly emit it and push it back into their bodies—it’s a mess.

And while emitting and pushing back, if mana with a different will enters their body, it’s bad for their health. In other words, the fledglings could become infected by the graduate student’s darkness.

In that regard, cheers to the Zephrin leadership for making a monster like Aila fight Kelterus. Look at how they treat commoners. They’re insane, really.

“I understand. I’ll go back. Yes. If I run away now, all I’ll have left is the 33 million rin in student loans I borrowed. I’ll go back to Professor Lantis’s lab. Yes. She said she’s starting new experiments too. Ha, haha…”

So he’s from that professor’s lab.

She’s starting new research too.

My heart aches a little.

That’s, um.

Sorry.

“……”

“Haha. First-years are so dazzling. I gave up on the graduation ring they’ll receive four years from now. Haha… And I studied three more years to achieve academic success… I just wanted to receive my doctorate. …Heu, heuheu.”

This is genuinely heartbreaking, but it’s also true that it’s bad for the children’s education, so I have nothing to say.

“Well, you know. What I mean is.”

“Yesss?”

“I’ll, I’ll give you a doughnut set. Hang in there.”

“…Thank you.”

—

That evening.

On my way back, I stopped by Maestro to buy some materials, then shut myself in the convenience store and busily made something.

【Activating Accessory Crafting Lv.1.】

【Identifying the craftsman’s intent.】

【Attempting to craft Imitation Graduation Ring (Inferior).】

【Success!】

【Agility is affected to an extremely minor degree.】

“Oh.”

Minor effect on agility. That’s a pretty good message.

From what I remember, when this message stacks up, it guarantees a +1 stat increase.

Probably between 0.01 and 0.1—exactly how much goes up is a random value only the system knows, but the range is roughly that.

“Not bad.”

What I bought from Maestro was a beginner accessory crafting kit and some fancy paper with a watermark.

I immediately took out the kit and crafted an imitation graduation ring, then took out a brush and began writing something on the fancy paper.

【Certificate of Academic Achievement】

【The above person has completed the doctoral program at our graduate school…】

Hmm. Even as I’m writing it, it’s coming out splendidly in one smooth stroke.

Anyone would believe it’s an actual official document.

“…I came to see what you were up to, and you’re forging official documents?”

An unpleasant voice suddenly rang out.

I looked up to see Eve staring at me in disbelief.

“Forging official documents? I have no intention of doing such a thing.”

“Then what is it? Are you trying to pass yourself off as a graduate school graduate and commit fraud to get a job? You’ve even made a fairly convincing imitation graduation ring.”

“…Hmph. I’m just making this as a hobby.”

“What’s the reason?”

“Eve, you know how harsh Zephrin’s graduate school is, don’t you?”

“…Hmm. That’s true.”

Low pay, slave to the professor. The specter of the lab.

“I plan to sell these as accessories—as a sanctuary for their hearts.”

“Huh?”

“When they look at this, it feels like they’ve graduated, providing comfort for their hearts. In the long run, it’s a foundation for the academy.”

“Hey, Wolfram.”

Eve shook her head and continued.

“That’s what they call forgery of official documents.”

“……”

Is it?

I suppose it might be.

I shrugged and pushed aside the completed doctoral certificate and graduation ring.

“…Phew. Anyway, I came today because I have something to say to you.”

“What?”

“As student council president, I’m going to exorcise the ghost that’s supposedly appearing in the first-year common dormitory tomorrow—did anything like this happen during your term, former president?”

I kept silent for a moment, then casually shook my head.

“Not at all. This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Is that so. Got it. I’ll trust you.”

“Good luck.”

“Yes. This really is a pain. A ghost—there’s no way such a thing exists.”

Eve shook her head and left the convenience store. I let out a small sigh as I watched her retreating figure.

“It’s really starting.”

By tomorrow night at the latest.

Act 1 of the main story begins.