HTACS 15

Chapter 15

---

For example—

Imagine you have a lunch appointment at 2 PM, and as you head there on an empty stomach, you catch the scent of ballymanju wafting from the subway station.

Everyone would agree:

“Possible.”

Of course, we know that smell, we know that taste—so we can resist the temptation. But in a place with garbage-tier infrastructure like this, snacks are a luxury.

So what happens when you spread the smell of ballymanju in a place like that?

“Snff. Hah. *Inhale!*”

“Hoo. Hoo. *Hooooo!*”

They just stare at you with burning eyes and howl like zombies.

The freshmen are still in the Colosseum—I mean, the plaza. Only the students preparing nearby stalls are looking this way, drooling.

“Ughhh… …ghraaaa.”

“…Ghhhh.”

Get lost, you bastards—I’m not selling to you, I’m selling to those cute freshmen over there.

That aside—this is practically a zombie apocalypse in the making.

“They’re done.”

“…Hmm. Start the next batch.”

“Yes.”

I placed the freshly baked ballymanju on the tray in front of the machine and took a moment to smell them.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

I shook my head at Nephti’s question.

It’s nothing, really—I was just wondering if what we baked was ballymanju or marijuana.

I baked the next batch of ballymanju while simultaneously pulling out doughnut dough.

A stone that can be used as a magical power source—the magic stone, or “magistone,” can do anything. Embed it in a weapon and you can split a person in half.

For this event, I spent a fortune renting a freezer powered by magistone. 150,000 rin for a single day—are you kidding me?

Anyway—inside were doughnut dough and chilled cream prepared since yesterday. Finally, beans chilled and ready to make “Mixed Beans” at any moment.

After finishing the prep work and slowly baking ballymanju and doughnuts, Nephti spoke up.

“Come to think of it—I recall that this year’s ‘demonstration’ opponent is Lady Aila.”

“Hmm. Right.”

“I hope she doesn’t go too hard on him…”

“She’ll probably be reasonable.”

“That would be best. When I was the demonstration opponent, it was quite intense.”

“Hmm.”

I nodded knowingly.

I was thinking, “Wasn’t she the top freshman in her second year? Wasn’t it Eve?”—but if Eve had been the top freshman and had to undergo the demonstration, that would’ve been treason against the Imperial family—a crime punishable by annihilation. What kind of madman would spar with a princess in front of 100,000 people?

So Nephti, who had top admission scores, was a commoner, and had no notable backing, was chosen.

“I don’t remember well—who did you fight?”

“Senior Izolde of the Jeweled Sword.”

“I see. How many swords did she summon?”

“I believe up to Ruby.”

“You did well.”

Honestly, I was a bit surprised.

Izolde of the Jeweled Sword. Her personality is trash among trash—maintaining tension and favorability is a nightmare—but her skill crushes all of that. An absolute cheat character. She starts by summoning weak, soft jewel swords, and when they break, she summons the next tier—and it gets insane later on.

Anyway—Ruby is the third sword. If Nephti, as a first-year, made her draw that far, she’s also a monster among monsters.

But even Nephti and Izolde of the Jeweled Sword pale in comparison to one person.

The Hero of Light—Kelter.

‘Light is light because it cuts through all darkness and can penetrate anywhere in this world equally.’

Literally—Kelter’s greatest talent is that he “can become anything.” He can be a grand archmage, a great merchant, a magnificent knight, or even the deepest assassin.

And considering the performance of the weapon Kelter is believed to have… even Aila might not have an easy time.

Wait.

I clearly assured Aila that she would win.

If Aila gets pushed back…?

She’d probably say, “Wolfram’s eyes are nothing but knot-holes—let me just shove my Black Crystal in them!” and stick a Black Crystal Spear in my eyes.

Hmm.

The only countermeasure I can take right now is to prepare a bribe.

“Nephti—if we don’t sell everything today—”

“I’ll mobilize the Knight Department students if I have to, but we will sell everything.”

“Is that really okay?”

What happened to the Sword of Conviction?

“Fry up a full set right now. Quickly.”

“If you’re going to give them to me, you don’t need to do that.”

“I’m not giving them to you—…never mind. Set aside two sets for you to eat. No—a few sets. For lunch.”

“Yes! Understood!”

Nephti, who had been sulking with her head down, brightened up and nodded. You’ve already eaten so much to “perfect the flavor,” and now you’re eating more?

Anyway—as we baked, and baked, and baked some more, I heard footsteps from afar.

Coming this way—

The scent bomb. The hungry ghosts drawn by the ballymanju.

The fresh-faced freshmen.

“…Now, Nephti. The war begins.”

“My loyalty is yours. Trust me.”

Trust you? Of course I do—

If I can’t trust you, I’m dead either way.

—

Aila Trista possesses outstanding talent.

But she also knows that the world is vast, and that there are countless people greater than her.

The greatest talent of the Trista family—a girl who can already use the Tier 7 buff spell [Maximum Enhancement]. She soars high as the 3rd-year vice-president of Zeppelin’s Magic Department.

But aside from that, she was finding this pre-ceremony truly tedious.

‘How boring.’

Honestly, she didn’t even know why she was here. Being called the 3rd-year vice-president was less a source of pride and more of a humiliation to her.

So—that arrogant Eve von Lohengrin’s speech, and those first-years below who knew nothing, gazing with bright eyes at their blue futures—all of it was annoying.

According to Academy regulations, the 3rd-year vice-president educates the 1st-year top freshman. It’s a garbage task—but for now, she had to endure it.

‘Honestly—watching Wolfram’s wings of rebellion would be far more enjoyable.’

Aila let out a deep sigh.

Wolfram von Lohengrin.

Her fiancé.

Unlike Aila herself, he has no talent whatsoever, and he’s been thrown to the very bottom—but even so, his eyes shone brighter than anyone else’s.

From the lowest place, he gazes at the highest. She could even feel his will to walk toward the sky alone. She was already starting to anticipate what path he would walk—and if she could stand on that stage with him, she wanted to be the leading role by his side; or if she were a spectator, she wanted to sit in the very front row.

Rebellion shines most brilliantly when the lowest reaches for the highest.

To Aila, Wolfram’s rebellion was truly beautiful.

At least there was one thing worth watching—the speech of her detested rival, Eve von Lohengrin, as Student Council President.

【This year, under the banner of fair distribution and proper evaluation for all students, the Student Council will do its utmost to ensure a better Academy life for everyone.】

Curiously, Eve did not mention Wolfram.

Except for the freshmen chicks here, everyone in this hall knows exactly what kind of student council president Wolfram was. Declaring his downfall would have been the easiest way to corner him and boost her own approval.

The best political tools are always division, villain-making, instigation, and incitement. Just by invoking Wolfram’s name, she could have done all of that—but she didn’t. Whether it was for the honor of the Imperial family, or for some other reason Aila didn’t know—

Just by not slandering Wolfram, Aila found Eve’s new student council manifesto surprisingly tolerable.

【Next, we will have a sparring match between 3rd-year Magic Department’s ‘Black Crystal’ Aila Trista and freshman ‘Kelter.’ This event is a traditional welcoming ceremony—】

Her reverie was brief—as Eve called her name, Aila let out a small sigh. The most garbage part of the whole affair.

—

“Please take care of me! I’m Kelter!”

“…Take care of you. I’m Aila Trista, 3rd-year Magic Department vice-president.”

They exchanged light greetings, and Aila looked at the boy.

Sparkling eyes. A fire that refuses to lose.

Normally, she’d have no desire to crush such a boy—but Wolfram had told her to show her “class” and completely break him. Only then would he have the qualification to follow her.

‘…Then I suppose I just need to prove that qualification starting now.’

Aila stared intently at the boy named Kelter—and said something she normally wouldn’t—a cheap provocation.

“Fine. Let’s make a promise.”

“Y-yes?”

“I’ll only use my Black Crystal offensively once. If you block that, it’s your victory.”

“Understood, senior!”

Did he feel insulted? The boy’s eyes burned even brighter.

Whether he did or not—

Following the referee’s instructions, they took distance. Aila assumed her stance, and the boy also drew the greatsword from his back.

If she planted a Black Crystal right between his brows, he’d be knocked out of the ring in one shot. Adjusting the output to that degree was her specialty. Then the boy would fly back like a dead frog, and Aila would gracefully descend from the stage.

But one thing troubled her—the advice Wolfram had given her.

Wolfram.

Her one and only acknowledged comrade in rebellion.

He seemed to know that boy and was wary of him—even giving her advice.

‘He said to watch out for the charge.’

If he said that, there was no harm in being cautious.

“Come at me first, boy.”

“…Yes!”

The moment she yielded the first move—Aila’s eyes widened.

‘Indeed—he’s got at least one trick up his sleeve.’

A remarkable charging speed. It wouldn’t be out of place even in the 2nd-year Knight Department. A straight line—the shortest distance, resolved to cut her down—the charge carried that much force. The strike aimed at her waist from a low stance was fierce and wild.

A spirited strike befitting a freshman.

Then—as a senior should—she would gracefully block it.

“[Black Crystal: Single Shot: Barrier Formation]”

In an instant, a barrier of black crystal rose between Aila and Kelter. Blooming like a flower of crystal, it completely separated the two.

An ordinary human body cannot pierce this crystal wall.

Now the attacker has two choices: vault over the Black Crystal, or go around it.

The boy who had been charging low moments ago would—nine times out of ten—go around.

That’s common sense.

But—

“[Nameless Sword: Slash: Breakthrough]”

The boy’s voice from beyond the wall still signaled a charge—and with a *CRACK!* the Black Crystal barrier shattered.

Scattering black crystal.

The two, now unobstructed.

A knight who closed the distance—and a mage who let the distance close.

In that fleeting moment—

Aila saw two things.

One—the boy’s red-glowing sword.

The other—his eyes, charging forward without surrender.

The breakthrough didn’t waver, and the boy’s sword swung with full force to strike Aila.

“Ah-ha.”

So this is why he told me to watch out for the charge.

A fitting piece of advice. As expected of Wolfram.

“[Black Crystal: Rapid Fire: Recombination]”

Aila smiled lightly and waved her hand.

If Wolfram had been there, his eyes would have gone wide with shock. In the original as he knew it, Aila would have allowed this attack and resented Kelter until she fell in Act 3.

But now, the noble Black Crystal twisted that fate without a care.

*Crackle. Craaackle. SHRRRRRR!*

The shattered Black Crystal barrier clung back together, filling everything between them—as if turning back time.

The swinging sword.

The body lunging forward.

The legs pounding the ground.

A charge that no one could stop.

All of it was buried in Black Crystal.

On this stage, the only one who could move now was Aila.

She elegantly crossed her arms and looked into Kelter’s eyes.

He desperately tried to reach out, but couldn’t move an inch.

His eyes blazed—but rather than fire, it was something lukewarm.

Wings of rebellion?

No—

Wings like that can’t take flight.

They can’t make her heart race.

“[Black Crystal: Single Shot: Maximum Enhancement]”

Without uncrossing her arms—

Aila loaded a single Black Crystal and fired it.

“Gwah!”

A single shot, as promised.

A flawless victory that no one could dispute.

“I hope Wolfram’s doughnuts haven’t sold out. That was what I was most looking forward to today.”

Without even glancing at Kelter, who had been sent flying like a frog—

Aila turned to find her fiancé’s stall.

—

To put it simply—the store was swamped.

“One cream doughnut and one vanilla doughnut!”

“Three ballymanju here!”

“Two smoothies!”

The bread and drinks sold endlessly.

Nephti started selling at an unbelievable speed—she was a machine. Amazing. The 20% cut is absolutely worth it.

“Three ballymanju, please!”

“One cream doughnut and two strawberry doughnuts!”

“A strawberry shake, please!”

“Nephti—hiring you might have been a good decision after all.”

“If you’re going to say that, could you please help me out!?”

“No—I need to prepare for the coming final battle.”

“Isn’t this already the final battle!?”

“Three ballymanju here!”

“Coming right now!”

It’s going well.

It’s going ridiculously well.

Leaving Nephti—who kept glancing between her sword and me—to bake the ballymanju, I contemplated whether to accept my death or slip away and somehow survive.

If Aila lost to Kelter—and if Aila, now ticked off, came looking for me—and if she casually stuck a Black Crystal Spear through my gut—

“No—she won’t kill me outright. I just need to offer tribute and curry favor.”

“Whose favor are you trying to curry?”

Death suddenly spoke to me.

“A-ah, Aila?”

“Yes. Business is doing well, Wolfram.”

I glanced at her—she was smiling strangely. I couldn’t tell if that was a happy smile or a death smile counting down my remaining time.

“Of course. This is basic.”

“Right. I thought you’d say that.”

Damn. Which one is it? Did she win or lose? Where should I bet?

Maybe I should pretend to be busy and brush her off—

“I’m busy right now. Let’s talk later.”

“Weren’t you just standing around doing nothing? That’s why I called you.”

Ah.

“Hmph. It was a short break. I’m about to get back to work.”

“Aha. Hehe. It’s nice to see things going well. Is this also part of the plan?”

“Needless to say. This makes my plan even more perfect.”

“Oh my.”

My eyes were screaming “I want to live!” like a flame—but Aila, oblivious, just kept smiling at me.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. I just thought it was a good look—oh.”

“Hm? What did you say?”

I couldn’t hear well over the noise—did she say she’d gouge my eyes out? Please tell me she didn’t.

“Nothing. Ahem. Never mind. Anyway—since it’s selling this well, you’ll sell out soon. I wanted to try some, but I suppose that’s a shame.”

“…No, not really.”

“Huh?”

I pointed with my chin at a separately wrapped bag.

“Take it. It’s your share.”

“Why? You look like you’re running low on stock.”

Why? Because I set it aside as the price of my life!

No—that’s not it. I can’t say that. If I do, she might actually take it as payment.

Here, I need to use as ambiguous a phrasing as possible. Something open to interpretation.

“It must have been a boring match, right? Take it and cheer yourself up.”

“…You really know everything. Yes—it was a truly boring match.”

“I thought so.”

“You did.”

“Indeed.”

“Yes.”

So did you win or lose? I need to know so I can adjust my story, dammit!

“H-hmph. Good. So take it.”

“Yes. I’ll use this to cheer myself up.”

“Good.”

“Oh, right—can I come to the convenience store later?”

Why? Why are you suddenly saying you’ll come here?

I suppressed the rising fear and barely managed to nod. At my reply, Aila smiled more brightly than I’d ever seen, and walked away with light steps.

Anyway—I survived another day.

“Hoo. I survived.”

“I feel like I’m about to die. Could you please help me a little?”

“…I’ll help. So stop glancing between your sword and me.”

“…I’ll try.”

Though I’m still walking alongside death—I survived today as well.