For the first time in a while… no, actually, for the first time since the first day of the second semester, I showed up to class.
The moment I stepped into the classroom, I could sense a strange atmosphere.
This is…
“What’s going on?”
It felt exactly like when Melana and Jeff stirred up trouble back in the day.
What is this? Déjà vu? Does something like this happen every semester?
“It’s been like this lately.”
“What happened?”
“Hmm… something complicated?”
“Forget it. I’ll just ask directly. Hey, you, in the seat in front of mine.”
“Huh? What’s up, Johan? Oh! Do you want this seat or something?”
“No? Why would I? What do you take me for?”
“.…..?”
Huh? Now that I take a closer look, this guy’s the one who gave up his seat for me in the first semester. Looks like he was also one of the students who stayed behind in Class D.
“It’s just that I got caught up in a major terrorist incident recently, so I don’t really know what’s been going on in Class D.”
“Oh, that happened? Makes sense, then.”
“……”
“What?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
I should be used to it by now, but I still can’t wrap my head around how casually Cradle students treat terrorist attacks.
How messed up must their minds be to accept this as normal?
“So? What happened?”
“Eh, nothing much.”
“Still, I thought we were friends for the past six months. You’re gonna be like this?”
“Johan, it’s been a year and a half. We were in the same class last year too.”
“Oh.”
“But do you even know my name?”
“That’s not the point.”
“So typical of you, Johan…”
I’m not sure what’s so “typical” of me, but as long as he lets it slide, it’s all good.
“So what happened?”
“Well…”
The story this longtime nameless friend told me was simple.
They were ignored.
To sum it up in one sentence, that was it.
Well, there were several interwoven causes, so maybe it’s not quite as simple as a one-liner.
Tracing it back to the beginning, it seemed that the cause had been the class reassignment.
Even though it was called Class D, it was practically treated like Class F.
Of course, there was a difference compared to the last semester.
The Cradle was much more peaceful now than it had been the previous year, and students’ grades were being evaluated objectively. None of the second-years had any complaints about that evaluation.
They all understood that others had worked just as hard as they had.
They had come to accept that the difference in ability was, in truth, just a hair’s breadth, and so, even if someone was in Class D, the days of being looked down on unilaterally by the other classes were gone.
In many ways, they had matured.
That much could be said.
However, the first-years who had been promoted up a grade seemed to think differently this time.
“So basically, you’re saying those clueless little kids have nothing but inflated egos, and it’s annoying, right?”
“Johan, I never said anything that harsh. I mean it; I don’t have any hard feelings toward them at all.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s what they all say.”
All the first-year students who had been promoted had skills equivalent to Class A.
Well, that’s by the standards of first-year Class A.
Anyway, they were elite groups with high opinions of themselves from the start.
So, even though they had been promoted, they clearly weren’t happy about ending up in the lowest-ranking Class D.
“They really don’t know their place, right?”
“Johan, you don’t have anything against the first-years, do you?”
“No.”
I was just stating the facts.
Honestly, even if they were in first-year Class A, it didn’t impress me. They were probably only at a level where they could give me a decent fight.
Among this group, I was the weakest, sure. But compared to the first-years who led a peaceful life, I was firmly in the strong camp.
After all, I was someone who could already use two advanced-level spells.
What’s more, although it was still conditional, I was just about able to wield a complete sword technique as well.
To be honest, if it came down to a one-on-one fight, I didn’t think I could lose.
“Are the other transfer students the same way?”
“No, those kids… their personalities just stand out too much; that’s the problem. But when it comes to this kind of thing, they don’t really get involved. Ah! Although, maybe one of them is a little different?”
“Who?”
“You know that guy Raven. The one who came in after working as a mercenary.”
“Oh. I don’t even need an explanation.”
“Right?”
If he’d worked as a mercenary, there’s a good chance he’d been through countless battlefields.
With a record like that, it makes sense he was able to transfer into the Cradle midway.
And someone who’s lived such a blood-soaked life wouldn’t misjudge the second-year students of the Cradle.
Mercenaries, by nature, need a sharp danger instinct if they want to survive.
In that sense, this place probably feels no different than a tiger’s den.
“The rest of them just seem indifferent about everything. Same goes for Miss Emily and Mr. Curtis…”
“What about Al… ice?”
I should’ve come to terms with it by now, but for some reason, saying her name was still hard.
Even though I’m sure she’s a completely different person, old wounds seem to linger deeper and longer than expected.
“I haven’t seen her since the day you stormed out.”
“She quit the Cradle?”
Well, considering why she came to the Cradle in the first place, it wouldn’t be that surprising.
We successfully took down Kult, so there was no need to rush me anymore.
Thinking that way actually brings me some peace. Man, that’s a relief.
“Quit? What do you mean, quit?”
Just then, the back door of the classroom opened, and the Oracle walked in wearing a school uniform.
Wait, why is this girl still here?
I grabbed the Oracle as she tried to enter the class and pulled her straight out into the hallway.
“What is it? Do you have something to say? If it’s about the Prophet, you don’t need to tell me. I already know without you saying anything.”
“I told you to cover your face.”
“I don’t see why I should follow that order. No thanks.”
The Oracle just shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.
Honestly, she wasn’t wrong, so I didn’t have anything to say to that.
“Ugh… Are you planning to keep attending the Cradle? Is there even anything left for you to learn?”
“Think of it as gaining life experience. I’m human too. You don’t expect me to live in constant hardship forever, do you?”
“Don’t lie. You’re living in luxury in the Imperial Palace.”
“You really think I can enjoy anything there? Every day feels like walking on thin ice.”
“…….”
Well, she’s got a point…
Suddenly, I started feeling sorry for the Oracle. Wait, this brat actually lives close to the Emperor and gives him advice?
How is that even a normal life?
“Tch. Then do your best to stay out of my sight.”
“And why exactly should I listen to you? Who even are you? You’re nobody, acting like you matter…”
“What did you just say, you brat? What were you doing while Kult was wreaking havoc? Do you even know where he was back then?”
“Ahem! Anyway, it’s clear we’re not fond of each other, so let’s just avoid contact as much as possible.”
“Fine. Get lost.”
“How childish…”
“Yeah! I am childish! So get out of my face right now!”
That’s what I said…but the truth was, the Oracle and I were in the same class.
So in the end, we walked back into the classroom side by side through the back door.
“…Are you two done talking? You seem like old enemies or something.”
“This is our first meeting.”
“Uh… right, if you say so, Johan.”
“……”
This is why I can’t stand these people.
They’re so annoyingly understanding, it makes you feel even worse…
“Anyway, you’re saying this awkward tension is because of the first-years, right?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Then why just let it be? Just show them the difference in skill.”
“That wouldn’t be very mature.”
“???”
“Feels a bit wrong to go around happily breaking a kid’s wrist, you know…”
Wow, this brat…
So these guys actually had a bit of pride, huh? I never realized because they were always acting so humble and kind.
So basically, the first-years had been getting on their nerves, but they were holding back out of maturity?
But… they weren’t holding back at all, were they? What was I supposed to do with this atmosphere?
If someone really lost it and swung a sword in a fit of rage, the first-years might end up dropping like flies.
No, seriously. The second-years still hadn’t fully shaken off the madness of the battlefield. They wouldn’t hesitate to kill.
“That kind of attitude is what pisses me off!!”
Just then, a girl behind me suddenly shouted at the top of her lungs.
Wow, what a voice. She reminded me of Ariel at the start of the semester.
“More than anything, it’s that condescending attitude that makes me furious!”
Judging by the distance, she must’ve been eavesdropping on our conversation.
I didn’t blame her.
I hadn’t planned to keep it secret anyway. If I had, I would’ve whispered or something. I wouldn’t have talked so openly like that.
“If you’re that confident, why don’t you just fight us already?”
“She said she wants to go at it.”
“…Which is exactly why we shouldn’t. If she’s like that now, going easy on her would just make things worse. But if we go all in, it’ll crush her pride completely.”
“You guys are really difficult.”
I mean, I could understand their point.
Basically, if they went all out, the fight would be over too easily, and it might end up hurting the other person emotionally which they didn’t want.
But if they held back to match the opponent’s skill level, it would be disrespectful. So they didn’t want that either.
I guess you could call that elitism, in a way.
Still, what was with them being all casual when fighting me but insisting they couldn’t treat her the same way?
How exactly did they see me, anyway?
“So, Johan, what if you just handled it? I mean… it sounds bad, but we’re kind of, uh, specialized in killing people…”
“….…”
Those horrifying words delivered with such an awkward smile.
Ah, right. I had forgotten. These guys were the ones who, over the past year, had mastered the art of killing people better than anyone.
If they didn’t want to show that messy, brutal side to ordinary people, I couldn’t really blame them.
Weren’t they basically like war veterans struggling with a form of PTSD?
“Alright, then. I’ll try talking it out. This kind of thing is my specialty.”
“Thanks.”
“Knew we could count on you, Johan. I had a feeling you’d step in.”
“Yeah, Johan’s the best at handling this kind of stuff.”
In that moment, praise started pouring in from all directions.
These bastards…
Pretending they weren’t listening….turns out they’d been eavesdropping the whole time.
Well, considering their level, it would’ve been harder not to hear us.
“ Ahem! So that’s how it is. If you’ve got a problem, let’s try solving it through a conversation first.”
“Ha! Are you scared?”
“What house are you from?”
“Johan?!”
“Ah, my bad. That slipped out.”
I almost lost my temper and ended saying the same words as a disposable background character.
“So, which house is it? You’re a noble, right? Let’s hear it.”
But I was always the type to stay in the background anyway, so I didn’t really care.
Think about it…why did so many background characters in stories always throw around noble house names when picking on the protagonist?
It was because, up until then, that tactic had worked. It was efficient.
Just because it failed once didn’t mean it had become ineffective.
“Uh, well…”
“I may not look it, but I’m from a count’s family. Let me ask again: which house are you from?”
Of course, it was a count’s house in name only.
Still, what did that matter? A count is a count, even if it’s just in name.
It still meant I was part of the high nobility.
“Three, two…”
“C-Cradle!”
“……”
“Wasn’t the Cradle supposed to be a place that doesn’t care about social status?”
“Oh, are you a person who stands for principles? Well, in that case, I’ll let it slide.”
Let’s think about it again.
Did all those one-off villain extras in stories do what they did because they didn’t know any better?
“So, what are you going to do once you leave the Cradle? Are you planning to live there forever?
If you are, then fine; I’ll give you that. But if you can’t act the same way outside, then what does your ‘status-free’ principle even mean?”
That should be enough.
I made a show of solving everything through conversation.
How nice is that? I resolved the entire conflict without resorting to violence.
“Johan, you…”
“What? What about me? You didn’t know I was like this? Isn’t that why you put me up to it?”
“Well, yeah, we did know, but…”
Know what, you jerks? What do you even take me for?
It’s not like I wanted to act like this.
This was just the fastest way to get things done.
Anyway, the problem’s been taken care of.
Why settle things through duels? Why go all the way to negotiations?
When you’ve got social status as a weapon, why not use it?
This is exactly why I’m so nervous around Lobelia.
Because social status is a weapon more powerful than anything else.
Of course, if someone with a status equal to or higher than mine shows up, there’s nothing I can do.
But here, there’s no student with a higher status than mine.
Even if the Empire’s been mass-producing nobles lately, a count title isn’t something they hand out to just anyone.
“If you understand now, then stop stirring up unnecessary conflict from here on out—”
“I’ve heard enough! I can’t stand to listen to this any longer!”
Just as I was trying to wrap things up,
A student suddenly stood up in outrage, glaring at me.
I slowly turned my head toward the student, who was fuming and staring daggers, and asked the classmate I’d shared a class with for over a year and a half whose name I still didn’t know.
“Who’s that?”
“Raven… a transfer student.”
“Oh, the mercenary? But didn’t people say he was friendly toward us?”
“Yeah, toward us.”
“Huh…?”
What the hell?
Why are you talking like I’m not included in this “us”?
I’m in Class D too! We’re friends, aren’t we?!
“To use your status as a weapon to oppress a fellow classmate….how vile and despicable! I hereby challenge you to a duel!”
“……”
Status could be a powerful weapon.
But the thing about weapons is, fists often come before laws—
And when a lunatic like this shows up, that weapon loses all its power.
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