Chapter 15
It was miserable.
There was no other way to describe it.
I’d said I was leaving my fate to heaven, not that I wanted heaven to plunge me into the abyss.
Did none of them have any friends? How was that even possible?
I could understand it in my case, because of my Stigma. But... huh?
I glared at the three of them, trying to convey that thought.
Lydia lowered her head as soon as our eyes met,
Laura looked away as if she felt guilty,
and Aila smiled brightly at me as if she couldn’t be happier.
I had to admire how she didn’t even flinch, despite the cold sweat running down her face.
“…”
I considered running away, even at this late stage. But I couldn’t.
There was no particular reason.
The rewards were too good to pass up.
As you’d expect from a game event, the rewards for winning were incredible.
A ring that raised my VIT, of all things.
It was only one stat point this early in the semester, but still. How valuable was that?
It was hard enough to raise your stats as it was.
As if it were trying to be realistic, you needed to train and exercise to raise your stats, and even in the game, it wasn’t easy to find the time to do that.
On top of that, my standing within the academy would improve, making people more willing to grant my requests.
In other words, I couldn’t lose.
I’d suffered through enough in this game already.
I could put up with this level of bad luck, no problem.
Thinking that, I opened my mouth.
“Let’s work on our teamwork.”
As Albert had said, the reason we’d formed a team was simple.
We were going to fight as a team.
Like everything else in <Dark Fantasy Saga>, where you traveled in a four-person party, we’d need to form a party of four once we reached the combat sections.
You could think of this as an introduction to that.
As long as our teamwork wasn’t a complete disaster, we could win.
I used to think that.
-Ting!
A coin flipped through the air with a cheerful sound,
-Bam!
“Eek!”
and smacked Lydia right in the forehead.
Her head snapped back, and she toppled over.
“Damn it, just dodge on your own—Aagh!”
Laura shouted in irritation, but a gust of wind swept up right beside her, and this time she hit the floor.
“You have to be careful! It’s dangerous if you get within range of a punch!”
“Then you should’ve thrown it more carefully!”
“That’s true, but how am I supposed to throw a punch carefully? It’s not like I can flick a coin gently, right?”
Laura shouted furiously at Aila, who’d thrown the punch, while Aila smiled at her without backing down an inch.
“…”
I hadn’t asked for much.
I hadn’t dreamed of some fantastic combo.
Nor had I dreamed of them all getting along.
But this was too much.
Watching the chaos unfold, I spoke up.
“This is hopeless.”
The three of them stopped and looked at me.
“…”
What was I supposed to do about this?
It wasn’t easy to fix things when party members hated one another. Not without getting into a fight, at least…
Ah.
I crossed my arms, glared at the three of them, and spoke.
“I’ll beat all of you senseless. Come at me.”
*
In <Dark Fantasy Saga>, characters had a stat called Affinity for one another.
When they got along, they helped each other. When they didn’t, they might suddenly stab each other in the back.
That was how Aila could end up getting her head chopped off from behind by an ally’s ultimate move.
Anyway, <Dark Fantasy Saga> offered a very straightforward solution for getting people who didn’t get along to become friends.
-Crash!
“Eek!”
A gust of wind swept Laura off her feet, and she rolled across the floor. Aila immediately charged in.
“Now! Support me!”
“Y-Yes!”
Lydia cried out in a panic at Aila’s command and poured out her holy power.
A shield formed at her feet,
“Guh!”
and Aila tripped over it and fell.
At the same time, I kicked her in the side,
“Urgh…!”
Aila rolled across the floor, clutching her side.
“Y-You hit the same spot again…!”
I turned away from Aila, who was gasping for breath and clutching her side, met Lydia’s stunned gaze, and spoke.
“Again.”
The solution <Dark Fantasy Saga> offered was the most brute-force method imaginable.
If they didn’t get along, just keep them in the same party and fight together for a long time.
Then they’d start to get along.
How could such a solution be so simple and crude?
But it was exactly what I needed right now.
This was a bit of a trick, but Affinity still went up if you formed a party and fought inside the academy.
The only problem was that there weren’t any suitable opponents for us to fight.
So, early in the game, if you’d raised the protagonist’s physical stats to the limit, you could put characters with bad chemistry but good synergy in the same party, then raise their Affinity by having the protagonist beat them senseless over and over.
I was doing the same thing with them.
Normally, it would’ve been impossible, since I’d put every stat point into mental fortitude.
I lowered my gaze to my wrist.
My wrist was starting to ache.
This trick was only possible thanks to Cursed Swordsmanship.
It let me beat all three of them up and raise their Affinity somehow.
I had no choice.
If we went out there looking like that, we’d be laughed at instead of winning.
I swung my sword again, slammed Aila—who’d charged at me—straight into the floor, and spoke.
“You won’t beat me if you come at me one at a time.”
“...”
Laura Crown, covered from head to toe in dirt, barely managed to get back up.
Lydia got to her feet too, breathing hard.
“...Let’s work together.”
Aila rose as well, clutching her side, and looked at me.
At last, someone was talking sense.
“Come at me.”
I gestured to the three of them with my wooden sword.
My own body was aching, but they must have been exhausted, too.
I’d train them to the bitter end. Now that it had come to this, we were winning.
*
The sparring continued until the sun went down.
Laura started gagging from hyperventilating, so we called it a day.
“...We’re doing the same thing tomorrow.”
I watched them, then turned and left first.
That was how it usually worked.
Now those three would get close while talking about how much they hated me, right?
Then they’d get along, and, well, eat together… and work as a team…
Surely they wouldn’t each go their separate ways the moment I left?
I turned around, thinking that—but, to my surprise, the three of them split up without saying a word and went their own ways.
Lydia limped off, Laura retched as she walked, and Aila headed away with a hand pressed to her side.
They didn’t even say “good work,” let alone have a conversation.
“…”
Were girls in this era really like this?
Was this what they meant by individualism?
Thinking that, I started walking,
“…Tsk.”
then frowned as a dull ache throbbed through my wrists and ankles.
At the same time, my status window came to mind.
For this kind of thing, all I needed to do was rest and drink a high-grade potion or better.
The problem was, I didn’t have any potions.
Regular potions barely worked, no matter how many I drank, and a top-grade potion was too precious to waste.
Couldn’t I find a high-grade potion somewhere?
Thinking that, I stopped in front of my dorm room, and something solid bumped against my foot.
What’s this?
I bent down to check the object,
“…A potion?”
It was a high-grade potion.
As if someone had read my mind.
“…”
In the darkness, long after sunset, I narrowed my eyes at the potion and noticed a note attached to it.
<For my friend, whom I don’t remember.>
The handwriting was neat, with a charming touch.
“…”
A friend I don’t remember?
Maybe she was Aiden’s childhood friend, or something.
That’d be a problem. I didn’t know anything about Aiden’s childhood friends.
But if that were the case, this handwriting was far too familiar.
Why did it seem like I’d seen it somewhere while playing <Dark Fantasy Saga>?
Maybe at the shop.
“…”
The shopkeeper was his childhood friend? Why not? Maybe the shopkeeper was a spy, too.
With a hollow laugh, I drank the potion right there, then tied the empty bottle to the doorknob.
I didn’t know who it was, but I had no choice but to accept their kindness for now.
I couldn’t thank them in person, so I’d have to get the message across this way.
After making sure the empty potion bottle was securely tied in place, I went into my room, my body feeling noticeably better.
The next day, another high-grade potion hung from the doorknob.
<Keep it up today, too.>
Along with that neatly written message.
*
A week passed.
And the first skill test began.
“…”
“…”
People exchanged glances.
Some looked nervous, others determined, and some confident.
They discussed how they were preparing for the test, each in their own way.
“I heard the four from the ducal houses formed a team together this time.”
“Really?”
“I also heard the children of Stigma-bearers formed a team…”
Naturally, they were all talking about the favorites to win.
And one name that couldn’t be left out of the conversation came up, too.
“…Aiden Starfive’s party seems pretty impressive, too.”
“…”
At someone’s murmur, the others fell silent.
“Impressive” wasn’t quite the right word. “Brutal” fit better.
For a week, Aiden had done nothing but beat the three of them senseless.
One day, people saw Aila Seed fighting with a vivid black eye. Another time, they saw Lydia Straw flung into the air before crashing back down. Anyone could see the fights were little more than one-sided bullying.
“…Aren’t they supposed to be working on their teamwork?”
Why did they just let Aiden Starfive beat them up?
That was what everyone was wondering.
But those questions were
-Clop.
silenced by the ominous sound of approaching footsteps.
The subject of all the rumors had appeared.
Aiden Starfive walked forward without a change in expression, with the three of them following behind him.
“…Isn’t this weird?”
Someone murmured, and the others couldn’t help but agree.
They looked like battle-hardened heroes.
Perhaps it was the bond of those who’d crossed the brink of death time and again—or maybe it was just their pent-up resentment.
With that bizarre atmosphere surrounding them, the four arrived and began getting ready.
Aiden Starfive polished his sword, Laura Crown prepared her coins, Lydia Straw meditated with her eyes closed, and Aila Seed fiddled with her gloves.
If they had anything in common, it was that none of them spoke.
No jokes to ease the tension, not even any sign of discord—just complete noninteraction.
“…”
The students couldn’t take their eyes off the sight, so utterly strange to them.
[It seems everyone is here.]
The voice of Headmaster Gildar, magnified by magic, rang out.
[We will now begin the first practical test.]
The test began.
