HTACS 04

Chapter 04

Academy Fortress Zeppelin.

I loved this game so much that I’d become a fossilized veteran of it.

There were many reasons I enjoyed it so much.

First, the vast story. The 12-act, 45-chapter narrative covers protagonist Kelter’s journey from his first year to graduation in his seventh year, during which you choose your route, reach an ending, and graduate from this school.

Then there are the many branching points—and the resulting shifts in character positions, which can’t be overlooked.

A prime example: Wolfram’s younger sister, Eve von Lohengrin.

That young lady who kicked me out—she’s a heroine on the Imperial Route, but an ally on other routes. On some routes, she even becomes the final boss. The way a character’s position changes depending on the protagonist’s choices gives the impression that the characters are truly alive.

But the biggest reason I was obsessed with this game was that effort was always rewarded.

The 12-act, 45-chapter story might seem long, but once you start playing, it flies by. The time given to protagonist Kelter isn’t all that generous.

Each ending has its own final boss, and to defeat them, you need to gather allies. For that, Kelter must grow stronger himself, build friendships, and earn money through hunting or various jobs.

Sometimes, building friendship leads to companions gifting you equipment or awakening new skills. If you fail to build enough rapport, you might crash into a bad ending.

The given five years aren’t brutally tight, but they’re not generous either—to reach an ending, you must give your all to everything.

And if you give your all, you receive your reward.

With endings where everyone becomes happy, alongside countless “rewards for effort,” I cheered with a pounding heart.

That was what I loved.

This hopeful world where effort receives just reward, where you make companions and overcome adversity together. This unique medieval fantasy academy world—I loved it so deeply.

Now I am in this world full of dreams and hope. Even as Wolfram, who doesn’t even deserve to stand at the fringes of this world—Zeppelin is right before my eyes. I will survive here. In this world I loved so much!

“I’m sorry, but I can’t hire you.”

“…I’m sorry. There’s no disqualifying reason, but… well, you know how it is?”

“The Adventurer’s Guild—the Seekers have no openings either. I apologize.”

“……”

I want to survive.

—

Sitting on a park bench, I blankly gaze up at the sky.

Clouds drift across that blue sky, and with each breath, the scents of earth and trees—pleasant fragrances—brush through my lungs.

Zeppelin was no longer a game. It was my reality.

And reality was ruthlessly harsh.

“Who said I wanted a lot anyway?”

It’s not that there are no jobs—they simply don’t exist *for me*. In my bag are a sword and clothes worth eighty million rin if sold, but no one will buy them.

On top of that, the Blacksmith’s Guild, the Mages’ Guild, and even the Adventurer’s Guild refused me entry. Naturally, any jobs under their umbrella were also denied. Getting ostracized by the entire Academy Island of Zeppelin—isn’t that a bit much…?

“Or maybe—system-wise, my being in this game is treated as a bug, so no one will hire me?”

If that’s the case, there’s really no answer.

No—that’s not it. I shook my head.

The pressure and pain felt in my clenched fist, the park’s scents seeping deep into my lungs—they brought an overwhelmingly vivid sense of reality.

“Status.”

If that’s the case, I have to survive by my own strength. Even if it means holing up in the forest with a single axe, building a log cabin—I’ll survive.

I opened my own status window to check.

【Wolfram von Lohengrin】

【?T】

【Status:

Strength: 4

Dexterity: 6

Endurance: 2

Magic: 3

Willpower: 4】

【Acquired Skills:

Imperial Bloodline.】

After checking my stats, I let out a hollow laugh.

“Log cabin, my ass.”

I’d be lucky if I didn’t get my head sliced off in one hit by a goblin the moment I step into the forest. I’d love to leisurely chop wood with an axe, build a cabin, and make some jerky—but that’s utterly impossible for me.

“These stats are truly trash-tier.”

Next, I tried to check my skills, but that only made me sigh. “Imperial Bloodline”—what does this skill do? It forcibly makes you exude an overwhelming aura and speak in a pompous manner when dealing with others. It can give you some advantage in negotiations, but if Wolfram uses it recklessly, he’d probably get beaten to death.

“What now.”

The sky is clear, clouds are drifting, trees are green, and I’m unemployed.

“Seriously, what now.”

—

It’s not that I’ve despaired or been crushed by reality. My love for Zeppelin isn’t shattered by this much.

It’s just—I felt like I was about to pass out.

The reason?

Nothing special. I’m hungry.

“Ah, shit.”

Zeppelin’s education is benevolent. Uniforms, writing tools, textbooks, even meals—all free.

But at the same time, it’s strict—if you’re not affiliated with the Academy, all those benefits disappear.

So where does Wolfram belong?

Unfortunately, at this very moment—nowhere.

I was kicked out of the Magic Department, which I’d been attending under the authority of the Student Council President. My next enrollment will probably be in Cyprus, where commoners are mixed in.

Right now, I’m stuck somewhere between expulsion and re-enrollment. During the processing period, I’m officially not affiliated with any Academy department, so I need to find my own way to survive—yet the entire Academy is shunning me.

“Hoo.”

It’s not that D/Z SAGA lacks hidden pieces, but that’s its own headache. What this game champions is simple:

“Effort will be rewarded.”

“You’ll receive as much as you put in.”

In other words—if you want to suck up those hidden, sweet elements, even a veteran player needs proper preparation. Of course, that preparation doesn’t necessarily have to be combat power. It could be rhetoric.

For example, Settlerus’s letter delivery event—which lets you earn 10,000 rin—is a quest almost everyone does early on. You receive a letter from Settlerus and deliver it to the second floor of the Magic Tower.

Reward: 10,000 win. Sweet!

But I was kicked out of the Magic Tower two days ago. Sweet—my ass.

Hoo. No use cursing, I shook my head a few times.

This is Zone 8 of the Magic Quarter. Realizing I couldn’t even undertake Settlerus’s letter quest, I roughly sat down nearby. The Magic Quarter is always bustling, but strangely, there’s a place where people don’t gather.

“Hoo.”

That’s Zone 8 of the Magic Quarter. There’s just no one around. An area so devoid of people it’s almost excessive.

This was, by Zeppelin’s own admission, a failed development zone.

After all, the Magic Quarter doesn’t even need eight zones. Magic is a place where one genius substitutes for ten thousand mediocre minds.

A new city thoroughly failed in real estate development. Dormitories overflowing with vacancies. Empty storefronts. Streets with no one walking them.

That’s Magic Zone 8.

But I liked this silence. I even recalled a memory from the merchant route—buying up Research Zone 8 cheap and achieving the “Great Tycoon” ending.

Anyway, that’s ancient history. What matters is the present.

“There’s still a way.”

I’m a veteran of this game. I roughly know how things work and what will happen. I can put in the effort of thinking, the effort to survive somehow.

Even if the Academy abandons me—I can still think.

Even without a job, without money—I can still think.

If I give up even the effort of thinking, it’s truly over.

“…First, maybe I’ll hunt some monsters.”

I put the notes I’d written back into the suitcase and reached a conclusion.

There is one last thing I can do—even if it’s a long shot. I gripped the longsword inside the suitcase. First, let’s get outside the Academy.

With that, I rose from my seat.

“Uh?”

Strength drains from me.

But this—this is seriously bad. My vision is swaying. My body leans forward.

Why? I’ve only gone one day without food. No matter how much of a trash-tier loser I am, I shouldn’t collapse here.

“Ah…”

This bastard—Endurance 2, right…

In my swaying vision and spinning head, I recalled my own body.

I wasn’t a trash-tier loser.

I was a super-trash-tier loser.

“Wait—if I pass out here…”

This is Research Zone 8. A failed redevelopment area where no one comes.

If I collapse here—

I’m genuinely… in danger…

—

“…Ugh, ugh.”

What woke me, as I held my spinning head, was a smell.

“Coming to?”

“…Uh, uh. Who…”

“Looks like you’re alive.”

An aroma that guided my nose.

I looked ahead with dazed eyes and saw a human silhouette. A middle-aged man with a friendly smile and slicked-back hair.

“Want this?”

“…Uh, uh.”

Before my eyes was bread.

I took the bread with both hands and shoved it into my mouth. Delicious. So delicious it brought tears to my eyes. It was hard bread, but that didn’t matter at all.

“You okay? I’ve got a drink here too—have some.”

I wondered why I’d need a drink while eating tear-soaked bread, but the water he handed me moistened my throat.

“So how did a young kid end up starving like that?”

“…Well—”

“Never mind. I’ve got plenty of food here. Eat up.”

It was all the lowest-grade recovery items—”black bread” and “water”—but that was more than enough. Sweet enough to bring tears.

I forced it down for about thirty minutes. Once I’d completely quelled my hunger, I bowed my head.

“I must thank you properly.”

“Thanks? What for? Why were you even in that state?”

“……”

I had to hide my identity as much as possible. From his reaction, he didn’t seem to know I was Wolfram.

“Forget it. Even if you were the student council president, you’d have your reasons.”

“…You know me?”

“Of course. You’re the president who got kicked out by his little sister, right?”

Hitting me where it hurts.

So he doesn’t discriminate against me? The world isn’t all that bad after all.

“Even knowing that, you gave me food—I’ll repay this kindness someday.”

“Hah. Don’t worry about it. It’s just stuff I was going to throw out anyway since I can’t sell it soon.”

Throw out.

That word struck a familiar chord.

“I see. …So that’s it.”

“Yeah. So I just brought some dead stock and fed you. You’re not gonna have me executed for insulting the Imperial Family, are you?”

“…Ha. What are you saying. If I repay your kindness later, maybe I’ll think about it.”

I waved my hand, and the young man grinned.

“So, Mr. President, why were you holed up over there?”

“…Because I got kicked out. No one would take me in.”

“Ah…”

“Who are you?”

“I run a grocery store just ahead. Name’s Phil.”

“…I see. Phil. Mind if I call you that?”

“Of course.”

Phil nodded, and I responded with a smile.

“Good. Phil—any interest in hiring me?”

“…Sorry, can’t do that.”

“I see. Can’t be helped.”

“It’s not for any other reason—I’m closing up shop soon.”

“…What?”

Phil grinned at me, but there was a shadow behind that smile.

“You know what it means when black bread—the cheapest grade—goes stale? Black bread usually takes about six months to go bad.”

“Ah…”

“The location here is just terrible. Anyway, I’m planning to close this place and go back home. So I can’t hire you.”

“……”

That’s…

That’s truly an unavoidable reason.

Don’t stop thinking. What should I do here?

This failed convenience store. The ruined real estate. A location full of vacancies. A leaving boss.

And what do I have? What can I do?

No—what does Wolfram need most right now?

I didn’t stop thinking.

An answer came.

I reached a conclusion.

“Phil… would you consider transferring your grocery store to me?”

What I need right now is the smallest possible foothold to make a start.

Nothing more than that.