Chapter 4:
Training
The following day marked the start of their practical training.
“All right, you lot! Time to start your training!”
Apparently, their homeroom teacher, Mr. Burgess, was also in charge of their physical education.
All the students wore leather guards over their gym uniforms, and unlike the uniforms themselves, these hadn’t been provided beforehand. Instead, they were shared by the various classes, and the stench of leather and other people’s sweat filled the air around Adele and her classmates. Although the students at the prestigi ous Ardleigh Academy no doubt received their own guards, as well as weapons and armor, the Eckland students didn’t have the luxury of complaining.
“I should start with the fundamentals of strength training and technique, but I get the feeling that that’ll bore you all to tears,” began Mr. Burgess. “So, we’ll start with a practice battle so that you all can grasp the importance of mastering the basics.
“Let’s get a good example… Those with prior experience, step forward!”
Several of the boys stepped forward at his command.
“One of you—go ahead and show me what you’ve got!”
However, no one seemed eager to volunteer.
Just when it seemed that Mr. Burgess would have to give up and pick someone himself…
“I will!” Kelvin, the baron’s fifth son, took a step forward.
“O-ho! Kelvin, is it? All right, let’s go! I’ll allow you to select your opponent.”
At the academy, rank was rendered irrelevant, so even the children of nobles were addressed by their first names.
As Kelvin looked over the pool of potential opponents, everyone carefully averted their eyes. Half of the children assembled were nobles who had already witnessed his prowess during the physical assessment.
After taking the time to leisurely assess each student, Kelvin pointed a finger.
“You there! Let’s go!”
It was Adele. She stared back, mouth agape. “Huh? Why me? I-I don’t really have any experience…”
She looked to Mr. Burgess, hoping for an out.
However…
“It’s Adele, right?! Okay—well, this should be an interesting one. Let’s do it!” Mr. Burgess grinned. Rumors about Adele had circulated among the teachers as well as the students, and he was pleased with this chance to test her abilities.
“Huh…?”
Adele, for her part, was bewildered. Suddenly both Kelvin and her teacher wanted her to fight?
She had only just learned the face and name of the boy who had called her out—the boy who she always seemed to catch staring at her. At first, she’d wondered if he were in love with her, but his attitude suggested the opposite must be true.
In fact, his sharp gaze seemed to label her as his rival.
But if he had to choose a rival, Adele thought, wouldn’t it be better to choose someone of exceptional ability—not an average, ordinary girl like herself?
“Please be gentle with me…” Adele pleaded, as she lifted her wooden sword, but Kelvin only readied his weapon, silent.
Adele steeled herself. Kelvin seemed quite serious. These might only be wooden swords, but if he hit her hard enough it would still hurt, even through the leather armor.
Her strategy was decided.
Fighting in Normal Girl Mode, at the level she’d been at before her reawakening, would mean an instant loss. What’s more, she would have to continue to perform at that level in future practice sessions, meaning she would never be able to train seriously. That would be a problem.
Although she might be fast and powerful, Adele had absolutely no knowledge of technique. Therefore, in order to prepare herself for life after graduation, she would need to do some serious training. In order to do that, it made sense to show some strength and battle—at least from time to time—with the strongest of the boys, so that she could benefit from the guidance of the instructor.
Even if getting hit would be painful.
Or maybe she could avoid getting hit?
If she could manage that and let her sword be knocked away at an appropriate point, then perhaps the battle could end before she suffered serious injuries.
With this in mind, Adele prepared for the fight.
“Begin!”
Just as the command left Mr. Burgess’s mouth, Kelvin rushed toward Adele.
In this world, there was no suri-ashi or okuri-ashi, the stepping techniques of Japanese kendo. Rather, the aim appeared to be simply to take out as many opponents as possible on the battlefield.
Sensing Adele’s hesitation, Kelvin moved quickly, swinging his sword down from above. Of course, it would have been frowned upon to aim directly at a girl’s skull, so he moved instead to strike her shoulder, which was covered in the leather armor. In kendo, such a move would have been a kesa-giri strike.
Victory was in sight—or so Kelvin thought. But his sword cut through only air, with an empty whiff .
“Huh…?”
As Adele easily evaded his swing, Kelvin’s confidence wavered. However, he wasn’t foolish enough to allow an opening. He quickly raised his sword again and swung it towards Adele’s right side, she herself having dodged to the left.
Thunk!
She blocked his blow with her sword.
He sent a swift attack toward her left side, hoping he might catch her off balance. Yet this blow was easily blocked as well.
Kelvin continued attacking, and Adele continued blocking.
Kelvin swore. How could this be happening? The girl had the stance and technique of an amateur. How could she move so quickly?! How could she block each one of his attacks?!
Kelvin was overwhelmed with confusion—but so was Adele.
Eeek ! His attacks were getting stronger. How could she gracefully lose the battle without allowing herself to get hurt?
Finally, Kelvin’s reckless side emerged.
If Adele was already blocking each move with her sword, he had no choice but to aim at her blade intentionally. Then, at least, he might have a chance of overwhelming her with his strength.
He bore down, aiming for the spot just above the grip of her sword. Drawing on both his strength and the blade’s momentum, he focused his energy on the third of his sword closest to the tip. Adele’s sword was stationary, and when he struck, he would hit it at the base.
He’s going to hit me!
Without thinking, Adele grew tense.
Cra-aaack!
Her sword made a terrible, grating sound.
Thwap!
Kelvin’s wooden sword struck Adele’s wooden sword near the handle. One sword flew out of its owner’s grip, going tumbling across the ground.
“Huh…?”
The one who was left staring down at his now-empty hands was Kelvin.
Rats , Adele thought. But it was already too late.
Just as with her magic and as she had seen with the door handle, it was clear that God had done something to impact her physical strength. And whether it was due to a mistake, a misunderstanding, or a deliberate choice, that did nothing to change the outcome.
In Adele’s life up to this point, she had always been able to hold back, almost subconsciously, carrying on her act as a normal girl with normal abilities. It was because of this that it had taken her until several days after the return of her memories to notice anything was off.
Now, if Adele exerted even a bit of strength, even unconsciously, her power would grow to a whole new level.
It was not unlike the gears shifting in an automatic car, the increase in horsepower creating an excess of torque.
What would happen if that level of strength were poured into a wooden sword?
Normally, when two swords exchanged blows, the force of one sword canceled out that of the other. However, if one sword remained stationery, the entire force of the second’s blow was reflected back into the arms of the swordsman.
It was as good as striking a lump of iron, and accordingly, there was an extremely high chance that one’s arms would go numb, causing the sword to fall. And this was exactly what had happened to Kelvin.
“That’s the match!” Burgess said.
“N-no! My hands slipped!” Kelvin protested as their teacher signaled the end of the match.
Burgess’s reply was exasperated. “Is that what you would you say if you dropped your sword on the battlefield? Would you say to your opponent, ‘Oh, just a moment please! My hand slipped! Would you give me a second to retrieve my sword?’”
“Er…”
This was not going well.
Even Adele, who was ignorant when it came to the subtleties of swordplay, could tell that this was not a favorable situation. She, a rank amateur, had bested a boy who was both confident and incredibly strong. Even though she had claimed it was her first time using a sword…
This was no good. For a “normal girl,” this was no good at all.
“U-um! I can keep going…” Kelvin said.
“Oh?” Burgess seemed intrigued as he turned to address Kelvin, who silently retrieved his sword. “What will you do?”
What will I do? Adele wondered. If she simply dropped her sword, it would be obvious she was faking. She would have to take a blow.
Adele readied her sword to fight again.
Kelvin’s stance changed, and the clash of blades began anew.
Although he hadn’t had enough time to recover from his previous exertions, neither had his opponent. And given that girls had little physical strength, it was only natural that she would be terribly exhausted. With this idea in mind, Kelvin charged again and again. Yet Adele continued to block each blow with precision.
As the fight continued, Adele showed no signs of tiring, and Kelvin began to grow impatient once more. Due to the violence of his assault, he was already reaching his limit. He could feel himself getting tired: his grip on the sword was beginning to weaken, and his breath grew ragged.
Why? he raged. Why can’t I land a single blow?! Against this girl—this amateur?!
Losing was not permitted—not by Kelvin’s standards.
***
As for Adele, she continued to block each of Kelvin’s blows almost reflexively, still lamenting the difficulty of losing the fight in a way that would appear natural and would not involve getting hurt.
She would prefer not to be struck anywhere without protection, or indeed, in any place where the leather was thin or weakened. Given that she had hardly wavered in the face of Kelvin’s earlier blows, it would look ridiculous for her to simply drop her sword casually. So distracted was Adele by these worries, that it didn’t occur to her that this level of speed, strength, and endurance was completely beyond the capacities of a normal ten-year-old. Nor that Kelvin, who was himself leagues ahead of the other freshmen, would be beginning to tire as well.
The battle continued until…
Now!
Kelvin’s form was crumbling, and his swings now were considerably weaker than those that had come before. Seeing that any chance to lose the battle would soon pass by her, Adele purposely slowed her own movements, turning her body in such a way as to allow Kelvin’s sword to strike her right on the spot where the leather of her armor was thickest.
All she needed to do know was pretend that she had no time to protect herself.
She tensed her body and squeezed her eyes shut in preparation for the pain of the blow.
…Huh?
The attack never came, and after several moments, Adele opened her eyes.
There was Kelvin, red in the face and trembling with rage, and next to him, Burgess, with an expression that said something along the lines of “Now you’ve done it.”
“Stop messing with me!” Kelvin shouted, then tossed his sword down on the ground and stomped away.
Adele stood, slack-jawed, not understanding.
“You know, kid… You ought to be more considerate of a man’s pride,” Mr. Burgess said. Behind him, the other students nodded.
What happened? What had Adele done wrong?
“Well, it is what it is,” their teacher went on. “I don’t blame him for getting mad, so I guess we won’t punish him for skipping class… this time. Now, the rest of you pair up and try sparring.”
The students split up into pairs and began practicing, but with Kelvin gone there was an odd number, leaving Adele on her own. Even Marcela avoided meeting her eyes.
How did this happen? Adele asked herself.
The handle of the wooden sword that she had gripped for so long was now dented with an impression of her fingers, rendering it unusable.
***
It was the first day of magic lessons and Adele was determined not to mess up the way she had last time.
Among the class of thirty, about six of them showed a spark of true magical prowess, while maybe nine more would be able to achieve at least an everyday level of proficiency. Overall, the proportion of skilled users was a bit higher than the norm, but this was no real surprise. It was only natural that those who hoped to become career magicians would do whatever they could to get into a decent school.
“To start, why don’t we try a few of the tasks that you learned about in your classroom lessons? Remember, this goes for all of you, whether or not you are able to use magic. Understanding magical technique, even if only in theory, will be useful to you going forward.”
At the direction of their instructor, Ms. Michella, the students began to recite their spells.
Next to Adele, the Marcela Trio was putting in a good effort.
Marcela’s abilities were of the everyday sort, while it appeared that Monika and Aureana had no magical capacity whatsoever.
Typically, the strength of a magic user was determined by the power they could produce with a single spell, how long they could maintain that spell, and how much time they would need to recover before repeating it.
No matter how strong the spell you produced was, if it could only last a few seconds or if it took a long time for you to recharge before you could use that spell again, your abilities were not particularly useful. On the other hand, even if your output was weak, those who were able to cast continuously and recharge quickly often proved handy.
In other words, someone who could summon only five liters of water at once, but could do so three times in a row—or someone who could summon only two liters at once, but recovered in an hour—was in far greater demand than someone who could summon ten liters only once per day.
Battlefield magic was the only place where, depending on the circumstances, raw power might be useful. However, this was an exception, not the rule.
Hmm?
As she watched her three friends cast their spells, something strange occurred to Adele. However, they were in the middle of class, so she banished the thought from her mind—she would deal with it later.
After they practiced their incantations, Ms. Michella, who was the perfect sort of person to be a teacher, allowed all those who could use magic to do so, while those who could not looked on in order to “become familiar with the phenomenon.”
Although Adele succeeded in using only the most normal of magic, when class ended, she felt a tad disappointed, as though her aim had been off.
“Um, could I have a bit of your time after class?” she asked Marcela, who could not deny such an earnest request from Adele, and readily agreed.
***
After school that same day…
“I’m sorry to make you come all the way out here.”
Adele had brought the three girls to a grove a short walk outside of the capital’s north gates.
“Wh-what are we doing in a place like this?”
“Sorry. There’s something that I wanted to talk to you about… But first—can you promise to keep all of this a secret?”
“O-of course, that’s fine.”
Following Marcela’s lead, Monika and Aureana nodded emphatically.
“Um, well.” Adele began. “Don’t you think it’s odd the way that we all use magic…?”
The three girls looked at her, confused.
“Um, well, when I was watching everyone in class, it seemed like they were concentrating really hard on their spells…”
“Well, yes,” replied Marcela. “That’s because spells are the most important part of using magic… Aren’t they?”
“They aren’t,” Adele said.
“Huh?”
All three girls were stunned.
“Spells are nothing more than a way to assist you in forming the image of the magic you want to produce. It doesn’t really matter what words you use. As long as you can form the image, you can use magic without even speaking. Haven’t you noticed that people who use magic don’t all use the same spells—and some people can do it silently?”
“Th-that is true…”
Slowly, Marcela was beginning to understand what Adele was getting at.
“Honestly,” Adele continued, “what’s most important is forming a strong image in your head—an image of what kind of magic you want to use and how you want to use it. Then, you make that image radiate outside of you. In terms of spells, all you really need are a few words that suit your image.”
The three of them stared blankly. Adele’s explanation of magic was nothing like anything they had ever heard before.
“A few words?” Marcela exclaimed. “I’ve never heard of such a thing! Even in silent casting, we were taught that you must still incant the words of the spell before releasing the magic. What do you mean by ‘radiate,’ anyway?
Adele explained the concept of radiating a thought pulse. The three looked skeptical.
“And as far as images… When you want to produce water, just imagine squeezing it out of the air, like wringing a wet towel. Go ahead, give it a try.”
Among them, the most curious was Monika, the merchant’s daughter, who couldn’t use magic at all. She was the first to attempt it.
“Umm… Water, water, come on out, water squeezed from the sky!”
Ka-splash!
“Huh…?”
About ten liters of water poured down in front of Monika, muddying the ground. Monika, who was supposed to be completely without magical powers! And now, she was exhibiting not the basic magic of everyday convenience, but the magic of someone with real potential—assuming, of course, that she possessed the casting frequency and recovery time of a capable magician. And if training allowed…
“No way.” Monika was flabbergasted.
As it happened, water magic had a great deal of utility for a merchant.
Humans required, at bare minimum, two liters of water a day. When journeying in scorching heat, of course, this need became even greater. On top of all that, a horse required something closer to thirty or forty liters a day.
For example, how much water would a driver of a horse-drawn carriage with three guards need to carry to survive a twenty-day journey, with no water sources along the route?
The answer would be roughly 1,6 00 liters, or 1.6 tons. Combined with food for the humans and horses, that begins to encroach on the space one has for storing one’s wares.
However, if you had access to a magician who could produce ten liters of water every hour? That was a different story.
As a middle-class merchant’s daughter, Monika already had a number of advantages. Now, on top of those other assets, she was an attractive girl who could also double as a giant water cask. Her value as a merchant had just risen immensely.
More importantly, though she had older brothers and sisters, the chances of her ending up as the mistress to someone of influence had decreased dramatically. At the very least, she would most likely be able to land a man of some wealth—or, better still, the son of a higher-class merchant…
“This can’t… this can’t be!” Monika fell to her knees.
At this, Aureana cried out, “W-water! Water squeezed from the air, show yourself before me! Aqua sphere, appear!”
The words sounded as though she were reading them from an unfamiliar book.
Splish!
There was nowhere near as much water as Monika had produced, but still, it was something. Enough that she would never need to carry a water skin, or fetch water from the well for cooking and bathing.
“Ha! Aha ha ha ha!”
“I-It can’t…”
Monika had watched the other two in stunned silence, but as her senses returned, she made her own attempt at the spell. She had been able to produce water from the start. And so now…
“O, water! Squeeze from the air and become my spear…! Fly forth, to pierce my enemies!”
Ka-splat!
A jet of water struck a tree ten meters away with a splash.
It was not enough to pierce the trunk, but regardless, it was a fine attack spell, one that would at least be enough to disable an enemy.
“I-I did it! An attack spell!” Marcela’s voice trembled.
A mere ten percent of people had the magical skills necessary to put food on the table. Of these, most had civilian jobs, replenishing water supplies and replacing fuel. Only one in several dozen was equipped to use combat magic.
Unlike magic that simply conjured water or fire, combat spells came with a number of additional hurdles. Rather than simply producing the substance in question, one also had to condense it, imbuing your spell with enough kinetic energy to propel it forth with sufficient power and speed.
And for those with an incomplete knowledge of magic’s true principles, it required considerable talent to radiate a thought pulse silently, without using an appropriate spell.
The people of this world believed that, whether or not you opened your mouth, you needed “words of power” to work magic, and as a result, a great deal of effort went into putting the right words together rather than forming a concrete image of the spell’s desired effect. This meant that it was difficult to produce magic continuously or spontaneously.
Rather than casting spells by radiating the pulse of an image, they believed that the effect was contained within the words themselves, which were heard and granted by mysterious beings. And of course, these spells did work as they were intended, thereby confirming this belief. It was thus that the people devoted themselves to researching incantations, never thinking that the success of their spells might be due to other factors.
As for combat magic, those who could manifest it had one of two strengths: the ability to create a clear image or thought pulse; or the capacity to radiate that pulse with great power. In neither case was this a process in which the user of magic engaged consciously; rather, when they cast spells, their subconscious powers allowed them to succeed where so many failed.
Thus, those who could use the so-called combat magic were fairly few.
And now, Marcela had just managed to employ it—with ease.
How many beautiful girls of noble birth could add that to their list of accomplishments?
With Marcela as a wife, you would always have a defender by your side, even as you slept. Furthermore, her talent might be passed down to children or grandchildren.
How much value would someone like that have in the eyes of an aristocrat with enemies?
Marcela would be receiving many favorable proposals. Most certainly.
Her imagined future as the second wife of some old man or the mistress of an influential noble were vanishing swiftly in favor of new paths.
“Sniff. Waaahhh…”
Adele had only planned to help her friends as a small thank you for their kindnesses to her and had never thought of the immense difference this knowledge would make in their lives. As they wept, she looked on in complete bewilderment.
Perhaps this had been a mistake?
“U-um, actually, we need to keep this kind of confidential, so… The next time we have magic practice, maybe you could pretend that all of this is a surprise to you? Like ‘Whoa, how did I do that?’ And could you try, maybe, to leave the ‘from the sky’ part out of your spells, if you can? Maybe just think that part in your head rather than saying it…”
Eventually, when the three girls were calmer, they understood exactly what she meant.
It would be disastrous for a secret like this to get out. If it were known that the differences between those who could use magic and those who could not were actually negligible—as well as the fact that those differences could be erased with little effort and that magical ability could be increased with only a few simple techniques—there would have been an enormous uproar. Adele would possibly be imprisoned for telling the truth, pressured for information by royal agents, or worse still, killed by her father and jealous stepmother for thwarting their plans…
“N-naturally!” Marcela stuttered. “There is no noble who would ever betray their benefactor…No, their friend!”
“There’s no future for a merchant who breaks her bonds!”
“A-and, and… a peasant always keeps her promises!”
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!” They all laughed together.
Two days later, at magic practice, Ms. Michella was ecstatic to see the three girls’ magical talents suddenly bloom, one after the other. It was clearly the product of her good teaching.
In particular, she took an interest in Marcela, who showed a level of ability that would be impressive even for an adult magic user. Before long, her fascination with Adele, who could use only standard apprentice-level magic, dissipated.
***
It had been one year and two months since they first entered the academy.
During this time, Adele, now a second-year student, had managed to lead a fairly peaceful life without standing out from her peers. The majority of their classmates had remained in Class A after their promotion—just a handful had been transferred to other classes due to falling grades.
Adele, whose birthday fell early in the year, was now twelve years old.
In a little over a year, she had earned 144 silver pieces from her job at the bakery, half of which was banked away in her loot box. Were it not for Marcela’s generous gifts, she probably wouldn’t have been able to save even this much. Undergarments, after all, could be expensive.
As for her body, Adele’s chest was not as prominent as it had been at twelve years old in her previous life, but it was starting to grow a little…
The undergarments that Marcela had gifted her over a year ago included some camisoles and brassieres, but until very recently, these had slumbered away inside the loot box with Adele’s old clothing and her silver coins.
The thoughtfulness Marcela had shown in choosing padded garments made Adele’s heart ache.
Adele excelled in academics. In sports, her technique was lacking, but her strength and speed made her a strong backup player. In terms of magic, she was a perfectly normal “amateur with potential.” The only time she had produced anything the least bit remarkable was the piddling fireball she had silently cast during the initial assessment.
That was the state of things for Adele at school.
Marcela, on the other hand, had become something of a rising star ever since her magic had begun to blossom.
Once her family learned of her new abilities, they began sending frequent letters with advice such as, “Don’t be hasty,” and, “Take care to surround yourself with only the best.” Naturally, they hoped to ensure that she would make the best marriage possible. Marcela herself declared that she would wait until the right man struck her fancy and settle for “nothing less than a wonderful gentleman.” As a result, there had yet to be any talk of an engagement.
“This is all thanks to you,” she told Adele. “I would never have thought that I’d have the power to choose my fiancé.”
“No, no, I should be the one to thank you. You were the only one who could draw the boys’ attention away from me.”
Marcela and Adele grinned at one another.
As soon as others became aware of her aptitude for water magic, Monika also began receiving proposals from the sons of her father’s trading partners and a clerk in the family’s business, an ambitious young man who hoped to begin his own enterprise.
Yet she chose to wait, also, declaring, “The life of a merchant is risky! Five years from now, my betrothed could be bankrupt, and then what would I do?!” In this, too, Monika was truly a merchant’s daughter.
Meanwhile, Aureana, having received a scholarship, would be required to work as a civil servant or teacher in the future. Though the magic she could use was still very much of the “everyday” variety, suitable for housework and other small tasks, the fact that she could use magic at all continued to delight her.
She would never have to worry about water again, for even if she were stranded somewhere, she would always be able to summon enough to drink. In addition, Adele secretly taught her how to use magic to make water colder, which was quite useful as well.
Of course, chilling magic had always been around, but the method Adele taught Aureana was far more efficient. Even with her relatively modest abilities, she was able to make drinks colder, as well as preserve meats and fish. All of this was very useful.
***
“Hey! You already know, right?”
“We know. It’s match day.”
At Adele’s response, Kelvin, who had approached the girls aggressively a moment before, turned back with a flat expression.
“There’s no deterring that one, is there?” asked Marcela.
“I guess not…” Adele replied, her smile bitter.
Ever since their practice bout at the start of their first year, once a month, Kelvin had challenged Adele. He even made arrangements with Mr. Burgess to hold a practice match during their physical education lessons, so time was no problem. Still, as far as Adele was concerned, the whole thing was an ordeal.
She knew that he was putting in an enormous amount of effort, and it wasn’t as though she didn’t understand his feelings, but she hated seeing the way his eyes burned with animosity, or his blank, speechless face when he inevitably lost. They were classmates, so Adele put up with it, accepting his challenges each time, but she certainly didn’t enjoy them.
Besides all that, however, Kelvin seemed like a decent sort of boy who got along easily with his classmates. Adele often wondered why he treated her the way he did, and the longer she pondered this, the more her discomfort increased.
She could no longer lose on purpose, not after Burgess’s lengthy private lecture on the “fragility of man.”
“Come on now, you can’t just fake it!” her teacher would tell her. “If you keep doing this, he’ll know for sure. Honestly, try to consider the man’s pride…”
It was hard to meet Kelvin’s eyes each time one of their bouts ended.
However, Burgess’s lectures on “the nature of boys” had helped Adele—indeed, had helped her quite a bit.
***
It was time for combat practice.
As always, the class began with Adele and Kelvin’s match, and as always, the victory went to Adele.
In terms of technique, Kelvin was leagues beyond her, but that meant nothing in the face of the overwhelming difference between them in terms of power and speed.
Of course, the strength she showed wasn’t truly superhuman, but now that Adele had abandoned her “normal mode”—in other words, the amount of power that might be expected of a girl her age—there was no way a preadolescent boy could best her, no matter how talented he was. Not unless she lost on purpose.
Yet not only had Burgess forbidden her from doing that, but Adele had, by now, become painfully aware of her own lack of acting skills.
Kelvin’s expression was unpleasant, and that day, seeing him glare at her the way he always did, Adele began to grow agitated. Why did he have to look at her like that? She had never done anything to deserve it. They had been through this routine at least ten times now, and every time, he had made that face and given her that look. This time, somehow, it angered her—as though the rage had been accumulating inside her and now escaped all at once.
“I’m not going to fight you again,” she said. “We’re through!”
“Huh…?”
For a moment, Kelvin stared at her blankly, as though he could not comprehend her words. Then, he flew into a red-faced rage.
“Wh-what are you talking about?! Until I beat you, I…”
“Can you not see how selfish that is?! What does that have to do with me ?”
Kelvin opened his mouth to reply, but Adele cut him off before he could do so. “After all these times, are you really going to be satisfied and think, ‘Oh yeah, I’m the strongest!’ after winning just once? If you’ve got one win to twelve losses, are you really just going to stop? Are you stupid?!”
“Wh…”
“What, exactly, is it that you would gain from beating me? From beating someone who’s not even aiming to be a knight? What would you say to them? Yes, that’s right, my three years at the academy were occupied by attempting to defeat a little girl who works at a bakery. And now, that girl is preparing to be a bride.’ Is that really what you want to say?!”
“Pfft!”
A number of their classmates burst out laughing. Even Mr. Burgess had to hold back his laughter. A conscientious teacher mustn’t be seen laughing at such a thing. Certainly not.
“You’re aware that I’m a magic user, aren’t you? I’m not great with swords. Are you going to tell them that, too? Just proudly announce, ‘Oh yes, I had fourteen sword battles with a mage who sucks at swords, and on the fifteenth try, I finally seized victory!’?!”
“Gaha! Bwah ha ha ha ha!” The conscientious Burgess finally caved.
“Wh-what are you…?”
“That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?! You’ve never once battled me at magic, which is my specialty; you only come at me when we’re practicing something you’re good at. What’s so great about beating a mage at a sword fight?”
“Uh…”
“Uh?”
“Uh-I, I…… Waaaaaaaahhh!”
Kelvin went running.
“Adele, my girl…” Burgess looked troubled. “Can we chat a minute? There are some things in this world you shouldn’t say to someone, no matter how justified you are…”
The remainder of the class turned into another one of Burgess’s lesson for Adele about “being considerate of boys’ egos,” with the other students piping in now and then.
“So, I was wrong?” she asked.
“I’m not going to bother punishing Kelvin for leaving. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to bear that dressing down.”
Everyone in the class nodded in agreement with the ruling. Except for Adele.
“After that though, hmm…” Burgess turned to Marcela and company. “Wonder Trio, follow me.”
“W-wonder Trio? Do you mean us? What is that…?”
The girls look perplexed at their new title.
“Aah, sorry. That’s the nickname we teachers have for you all. A commoner, a merchant’s daughter, and a noble—despite coming from three very different backgrounds, the three of you get along wonderfully. More unbelievably, all three of you have seen your magical abilities blossom. It’s like you caught the attention of the spirits who control magic, or the goddess was smiling on your friendship. So yes, Wonder Trio, Miracle Trio, Magic Trio… We have a lot of different names for you three.”
“Huh?” The three were stunned and began to blush.
“But that’s not the point. There’s a certain delicate boy who needs comforting, and I’d like to enlist the help of the Three Popular Beauties of Class A, Plus One.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The three were surprised, but seeing the state that Kelvin had been in, they couldn’t possibly refuse.
“I suppose we must—if there’s anything we can do to help…”
Yet as one might expect, these three girls still hoped for something in return, even if their actions were for the sake of a classmate.
“Oh, all right,” Burgess conceded. “Next time something comes up, I’ll take care of it for you.”
“That’s a promise then. And by the way…”
“Hm? What is it?”
“What did you mean by ‘plus one’?”
“Oh, that.” He pointed to Adele. “Though I guess, for now, we had better keep the culprit out of this.”
***
And so, as though the three girls had worked some kind of miracle, Kelvin showed up for afternoon lessons.
After the final class was over and the teacher left the classroom, he approached Adele’s seat.
At the sight of this, Adele wrinkled her nose, knowing trouble was brewing.
I wish he’d just leave me alone already!
“I won’t lose! I am the fifth son of Baron Bellium, and on my name, I…”
“ Oh ?” Adele’s low voice echoed through the quiet classroom. Her anger had begun to build again as soon as Kelvin started speaking.
It was then that her classmates knew: the morning’s long talk about being considerate of Kelvin’s feelings hadn’t exactly sunk in.
“Who are you?”
A series of gasps echoed around the classroom, as everyone else was shocked right alongside Kelvin.
“Wh-what…? Are you…?” Kelvin was flustered but tried to save face.
Adele ignored his babbling.
“The one I’ve been fighting is a boy named Kelvin, a classmate who, no matter how many times he loses, keeps forcing me into one challenge after another. The one who I put up with time and time again, in spite of his mysterious grudges and creepy glares.
“And now? You aren’t the one called Kelvin, my opponent and classmate, the one who keeps fighting and wants to be a knight, you’re some creature called the ‘baron’s fifth son’? What business do I have with a thing like that?”
“Huh…?”
“What is a ‘baron’s fifth son’ anyway? Is that impressive? Is that supposed to mean something? All it means to be a noble is that a long, long time ago, your ancestors did something the king liked. Until then they were just normal peasants like everyone else.
“Sure, maybe that person was amazing, but just being their descendent doesn’t make you special. Or does your blood run a different color than a commoner’s?”
There was an intake of breath as Adele and Kelvin’s classmates reeled at this scathing critique.
“Um, actually, being a noble doesn’t mean that you were born a noble,” Kelvin said. “It means that you were born to become a noble. You’re raised with your parents’ example, and educated as a noble, and your heart is filled up with a noble’s spirit— noblesse oblige , a ‘noble’s obligations.’”
The tables were turning! The classroom breathed a sigh of relief, but Adele continued. “What are you right now? You’re studying among commoners, you haven’t been trained as a noble, you haven’t contributed anything to this country or its people. You haven’t done anything but live off our taxes. What right have you to declare yourself anything at all?
“You think you deserve to call yourself a noble, when your only qualification is that special family name? Really? And you’re willing to take the chance of sullying that name?”
“Uh…”
This was not going well. Seeing Kelvin backed into a corner, the students began to panic. It was beginning to feel like a repeat of that morning.
“…Is your heart burning?”
“Huh…?” Kelvin stared blankly, unsure of what she meant.
“Was all the passion you’ve poured into practicing combat really born of your own desires? Or was it something you were duty-bound to do, to protect your pride as a noble’s fifth son?
“Did you even enjoy your training? Were you glad to grow stronger? Or was it difficult and painful—did you have to force your way through?
“And when you did, did your heart grow dark and cold? Or did you burn hotter and brighter, believing in a future when your own strength would shine through, regardless of your family name?”
Kelvin was silent, his face bright red again.
“To me, you aren’t just a noble or a ‘baron’s fifth son.’ You’re a boy, one who believes in his own power, who keeps training because of his own will, and who keeps on fighting to improve himself, regardless of his upbringing. That was what I believed, and that is why I always answered your challenges.
“Did you know that there’s a place where the word ‘Kelvin’ is used to measure the temperature? It isn’t a nice little scale, where water freezes at zero degrees, and boils at 1 00 .
“In Kelvin, it’s 273 degrees below zero. That is the temperature at which all matter freezes solid—even the motion of time. It’s a terrifying sort of scale that fixes that point as zero degrees—or as they call it, ‘absolute zero.’
“As for high temperatures, they’ll give you a blazing world where even rock and iron melt and evaporate!”
With a snap, Adele pointed a finger at Kelvin.
“Are you a meaningless child with no merit outside of your position as a ‘baron’s fifth son’? Or are you a man who lives beyond that family name, who has a heart that blazes fiercely and a soul that shines with brilliant light—’Kelvin, the Inferno’?!”
“Uh—I… I…”
Seeing Kelvin’s eyes beginning to well with tears, Adele snapped back to her senses. She looked around her to see her classmates gazing in awe, as though they had just witnessed something unbelievable.
Oh dear. Had she overdone it?
Flustered, Adele looked to Marcela, but Marcela simply shrugged her shoulders and pointed silently toward the door.
Following that admirably succinct advice, Adele hurried out of the room.
***
The following day, Adele entered the classroom timidly to find an atmosphere of unexpected calm. The other students greeted Adele normally, as they always did.
She was relieved.
However, the strange part came later.
Not that it was a bad thing.
It was just that everyone seemed to be putting forth an exceptional amount of effort.
During their classroom studies, during physical education, during magic practice…
They worked enthusiastically and asked productive questions. The noble students’ efforts were particularly noticeable.
This was a good thing, surely. However, their attitudes were completely different from those of the previous day. Adele was greatly confused.
Even Kelvin had an oddly calm demeanor and seemed perfectly normal as they sat for lessons. There wasn’t a fragment of the irritation or agitation he had shown every day for the last year.
Mr. Burgess was convinced that this was due to the efforts of the three girls, and news spread amongst the teachers that these three were particularly useful. More and more teachers began to put various requests upon them until it began to be a bit of a bother.
Adele couldn’t help but comment on the changes.
“You know, Marcela… You managed to draw all the boys’ attention away before, but lately it seems like it’s started to turn back toward me, hasn’t it?”
Marcela shrugged and replied, “Miss Adele, have you ever heard the expression, ‘You reap what you sow’…?”
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