The tram brought me to the academy for knights and warriors.
The Ash-gray City. Ishtal of Steel.
Streetlights lined the paved roads in orderly rows, and blue flags fluttered from the spires and watchtowers that jutted up across the cityscape. Unlike the other academies, the Ishtal district was dominated by bleak, rigid, ash-gray architecture.
It also seemed to have a higher concentration of students who were massive, well-muscled, or possessed intimidating faces.
This wasn't just my imagination. Ishtal's very foundation was a city structure modeled after military barracks, and unlike the other academies, it had a high percentage of students who focused entirely on physical conditioning.
Screech—.
The tram came to a halt, and I finally set foot in Ishtal territory.
As I exited the rugged transfer station, which looked more like a military supply depot than a transit hub, a peculiar scene caught my eye.
"…"
It was the sight of a poor boy being harassed by a group of students.
"Hey, you prick. Where the hell are you looking?"
"My apologies, I am truly sorry."
"Shit. You wanna die? I oughta just…"
"Eek!"
The boy suffering at the hands of the brawny students was none other than Garfield. For some reason, it looked like he'd been targeted by a pack of delinquents.
"…"
I didn't particularly want to get involved, but in a situation like this, the right thing to do was to help him out. It seemed likely he'd gotten into this mess while waiting for me.
I left the station and walked toward Garfield, who was encircled by the muscular students. I lacked the physical strength to overpower them, but I possessed the authority and the words to make them back down.
Just as I was about to intervene…
Step—.
Someone else reached the group before I did.
"Gentlemen. Bullying a student from another academy is unbecoming. I must ask you all to stand down."
"Senior Jeremy!"
The gathered students, startled by the sudden appearance of the blond man, quickly showed him their respect.
He was a tall, handsome student with golden hair and eyes that shone like the sun. This was Jeremy Gilbert, a third-year student at Union. He was a year senior to me and the other student council presidents of the Four Great Academies.
If I had to describe Jeremy's appearance in one phrase, he was the very picture of a righteous prince from a fairy tale—the epitome of a knight. Not only was he a descendant of the Knight King Gilbert, but he also possessed outstanding talent in swordsmanship and a high aptitude for magic.
Alongside Freya, he was the pride of Ishtal, a man known as the Sword of Gilbert, the kingdom of knights. He was also the head of Ishtal's disciplinary committee, a fact proven by the blue armband on his sleeve.
He extended a hand to Garfield, who was cowering on the ground.
"Please, stand up. What is your name?"
"I… This one is called Garfield. Thank you for your help."
Garfield took Jeremy's offered hand, dusted off his rear, and stood up.
"Think nothing of it. On the contrary, I apologize that you had to experience something like this. My juniors can be quite hot-blooded. I ask for your generous understanding."
"Ah, no. It was I who bumped into them. I was too focused on my book to watch where I was going. They are not at fault."
It seemed Garfield really was the one who had caused the accident. He brushed off his clothes and finished picking up the book and writing utensils that had fallen to the ground. Then he looked up and suddenly broke into a bright smile.
"Lord Roen! You've arrived!"
Garfield spotted me from a distance and waved enthusiastically. We'd only met a few hours ago, so why was he so happy to see me? Then again, I was probably the first person he'd befriended at Union, so I suppose it made sense.
I shrugged and walked over to where the students were gathered.
"Roen?"
"What the hell is that bastard doing here?"
"Look at him, he's even wearing a sword."
The students of Ishtal shot me wary glances. The reaction was similar wherever I went, but being glared at by a group of hulking, muscular guys all at once made me feel inexplicably intimidated. It was an instinctive reaction that even my Trait couldn't fully suppress.
"Hoo."
I let out a small sigh, composed myself, and spoke to Garfield.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, it was nothing. A simple, unintentional squabble, but Sir Jeremy resolved it."
As Garfield glanced his way, Jeremy stepped forward and acknowledged me.
"It's a pleasure to see you, Roen. You haven't changed a bit since we were children."
His words, however, gave me pause.
'Since we were children?'
Did Roen and Jeremy know each other when they were young?
I suppose so. Although it was never explicitly mentioned in the story, it wasn't impossible given their family backgrounds. Gilbert, the kingdom of knights, was located in the north and had maintained a close relationship with the Gunhild family, who were responsible for the northernmost front. They were neighboring states and shared the common ground of being prestigious swordsmanship families.
Considering the Gunhild and Devalis families also had frequent exchanges, it was plausible they had met back then. It wasn't uncommon for the children of high-ranking noble families to build friendships from a young age or see each other at banquets.
Fundamentally, Jeremy appears as a "good" character in the story, but something felt off this time. There was something suspicious about him. I couldn't explain exactly what it was… but call it a gamer's intuition.
For now, I should just play it cool. I quickly assessed the situation and answered calmly, my expression emotionless.
"I see."
"…"
Jeremy looked at me for a moment, then offered a faint smile.
"By the way, Roen. What brings you to Ishtal?"
"I signed up for the basic swordsmanship lecture. I've been feeling the need to work on my physical fitness lately."
I gestured to the sword at my side, and Jeremy nodded.
"I see. Indeed, physical training is necessary for everyone. Mages are no exception. That is an excellent idea."
Jeremy then offered to guide me.
"Although I am not taking the basic swordsmanship lecture myself, I can show you to the training grounds where the class is held. What do you say, Roen? I understand this is your first time in Ishtal."
"Thank you, but I decline."
I refused Jeremy's offer and immediately called out to Garfield.
"Garfield. Let's go. We'll be late."
"Uh, um."
I gave Garfield a look that said follow me, then turned my back on Jeremy and the other students and started walking.
"Ah, right!"
Garfield swept his fallen belongings into his bag and hurriedly followed after me.
*
"…"
Roen walked away with the chubby boy.
As his back disappeared beyond a building, the members of the disciplinary committee, who had been suppressing their anger, spat out curses.
"Tch. That arrogant bastard has some nerve."
"Sir Jeremy, are you just going to let him be? It seems he's finally extended his vile reach to Ishtal."
"Who knows what kind of trouble he'll stir up here… Haa."
As the ones responsible for maintaining order, the disciplinary committee members radiated a strong animosity toward the scoundrel Roen. Despite their furious reactions, Jeremy's expression remained unchanged. He didn't seem to mind Roen's cold attitude as he placated the other students.
"I am fine. Please, do not be so incensed. Besides, we cannot lay a hand on someone who has not yet done anything wrong. That is not the role of the disciplinary committee, nor would it be just."
After calming his subordinates, Jeremy quietly closed his eyes.
"However, if his misdeeds do end up spreading here, we certainly cannot stand idly by. When that time comes, let us all work together."
"Yes, Sir Jeremy."
Then, Jeremy added one last remark.
"And they say justice will always prevail. Even if the disciplinary committee does not deliver judgment… someone else may step in to right his wrongs."
*
Once we were far from Jeremy and his disciplinary committee, Garfield finally asked me why I had acted that way.
"Lord Roen, what was the rush? Sir Jeremy kindly offered to guide us, yet you rejected him so coldly."
"He's busy with his duties for the disciplinary committee. And as a third-year, he needs to focus on his studies. It wouldn't be right to hold up someone like that. It's not like we don't know the way."
Even with my reasonable excuse, Garfield still seemed skeptical.
"Well, I suppose that's true, but wouldn't it have been better to accept his kindness? Sir Jeremy has a stellar reputation. Being with him could have had a positive influence in many ways, don't you think?"
"I didn't know you cared about reputation."
"What a hurtful thing to say!"
Though I hadn't said it aloud, Garfield seemed to have understood my intent just from the look in my eyes.
"Besides, if you cared about reputation in the first place, wouldn't hanging out with me be a disadvantage for you?"
"Well… that may be so, but won't that depend on what we do from now on? Besides, judging a person based on rumors alone is a bad habit. It's not too late to decide after we've spent some time together."
"Hmm."
It was a rather touching statement. If only it hadn't come from Garfield.
After that, Garfield and I continued to chat about this and that as we headed to the lecture hall.
*
A short while later.
"Looks like we're here."
We stopped in front of a temporary structure that was open on all sides with only a roof overhead—a building known as an all-weather training ground.
Although it wasn't time for the lecture to start, many students were already standing in neat rows and columns. Garfield and I stored our belongings in the lockers provided nearby, took only our swords, and joined the formation.
'This feels strange.'
It was like being back at a military training depot. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but it did stir a certain nostalgia. I could feel sharp gazes on me and Garfield as we appeared. However, perhaps because the lecture was about to start, there was no murmuring or commotion. They were well-disciplined.
'Freya is… over there.'
At the very front of the formation stood a girl with strikingly beautiful white hair, her expression serene. As always, she was focused on meditation with her eyes quietly closed.
Thud—.
As I waited in the formation with the other students, a professor soon stepped up onto the platform. She wasn't wearing the usual gown professors wore, but rather comfortable, everyday clothes with a light breastplate. Her pure white hair and distinct features somehow resembled Freya's.
"Gentlemen. It is good to see you again. As you may already know, we have a new student joining us, so I will introduce myself."
Thump—.
She slammed a wooden sword down on the platform.
"I am Instructor Verdandi Gunhild. I am the professor for Basic Swordsmanship, and you will refer to me as Instructor during this lecture."
Commonly known as Verdandi, the "Devil Instructor." She was a professor famous for pushing everyone relentlessly without exception.
"The purpose of this lecture is to cultivate the basic physical fitness essential for your studies, to teach the fundamental combat skills necessary for self-defense, and to educate you on the proper stance and martial techniques for handling a sword."
Her gaze briefly fell on me in the back row before she continued.
"Even if you have had no interest in physical training and have been ignorant of combat until now, you will gain basic knowledge and confidence through this lecture. For those already walking the path of the martial artist, it will be a good opportunity to once again review the fundamentals."
After a clear and concise introduction, Verdandi gave a command.
"All of you, place the swords you brought down by your right foot."
Clank. Clank—.
The students unbuckled the swords from their waists and placed them on the ground. Next, Verdandi pointed toward the training field and ordered.
"Run."
"…!"
She added one more thing in a cold voice.
"Everyone except the first ten to finish will run again. Begin."