I Became the Academy’s War Hero Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Things Are Getting Interesting? (2) That morning. As soon as the clock struck six, Eric left his private room and headed outside. His destination was the nearest training ground to the dormitory. No matter how much he tried, he simply couldn’t fall asleep, and in the end, he’d stayed up all night. ‘I’ll probably be able to sleep if I work up a good sweat.’ That was the conclusion he’d come to after much thought. Since he was only thinking about tiring himself out, he didn’t even consider who else might be at the training ground. Whiiik! Crack! When he saw a training wooden pillar split clean in half and roll toward him, Eric was reminded of her presence. “…Of course that training maniac wouldn’t take a rest just because it’s Sunday.” Sensing movement, Francia turned her head, and Eric quickly turned his body away, pretending not to notice her. There was nothing good to come from getting involved with her anymore, was there? Just as he was about to leave the training ground, Francia’s voice caught him. “What's a training beggar doing here, Halenber?” Twitch. He could have ignored it, but the word beggar pricked his nerves. Maybe it was because it reminded him of the past. Before he realized it, Eric was already walking toward Francia. With a bored expression, he crossed his arms and muttered irritably. “I don’t think I’ve been stingy enough with training to deserve being called a beggar.” “You definitely haven’t been doing it.” “I’ve done just as much as necessary. Anything more than that is inefficient.” “There’s no such thing as efficiency or inefficiency in training. If you’re lacking, you do more.” “……” He’d thought that maybe her entire mindset had changed since she got involved with Eugene Carter, but apparently not. Well, people don’t change that easily, do they. He thought about just ignoring her and leaving, but since he was here anyway, he might as well achieve a small goal before going. Once Eric made up his mind and took out a practice sword from the barrel, Francia’s expression turned incredulous. Then, when he gripped the sword and approached a pillar, she even flinched slightly in surprise. “What, you that shocked to see me training?” “…No, it’s just, what you’re doing now is the complete opposite of what you said earlier.” “Not really. I still only do as much as necessary.” With that, Eric began swinging his sword carefully. Francia stared at him for a while before suddenly asking, “Back then… why did you let me off?” “Let you off? What are you talking about?” “Five days ago, at the training hall.” There she goes again, saying annoying things. Eric stopped mid-swing and shot her a sideways glance. “You think that looked like I let you off?” “Yeah.” At her straightforward answer, Eric thrust his sword between two pillars and shook his head. “Sorry, but I was dead serious back then. I was planning to crush you so hard you’d never recover. Shame it didn’t work out.” “…I guess so.” “…Then let me ask you something.” This time, it was Eric’s turn. “Why didn’t you finish it at the end?” His tactics had failed completely, and the rigid opponent’s strategy had gained unexpected freedom — the result was nothing short of disastrous. It was an overwhelming defeat. Amidst blood and violence, Eric had felt not just defeat, but death itself closing in. Of course, the instructor wouldn’t have stood by idly, but emotionally, that’s how it felt. The fact that it had ended with just bruises and a few fractures was almost unbelievable. If he couldn’t win overwhelmingly, he would have preferred to lose overwhelmingly and leave Karbenna behind. That would have been a better ending — even for her. But to end up with such an ambiguous conclusion… Sure, he’d gained a new opportunity because of it, but he hadn’t wanted to get one in this way. “Halenber is your mortal enemy. You had no reason to go easy on me.” Watching Eric lower his head slightly with his eyes lifted toward her, Francia let out a faint sigh. “I was going to kill you. That was the plan.” “……” “I thought that would wrap everything up… make things easier for me.” But in the end, she hadn’t been able to finish it. The surface reason was the sudden intervention of their instructor, Eugene Carter, but the real reason lay elsewhere. ‘Is this pitiful brat your revenge?’ ‘If this is where your vengeance ends, I won’t stop you.’ Eugene Carter’s final words had made her realize it — the truth she hadn’t even been aware of herself. “But then I thought it’d be a waste. To end my journey with someone like you.” Francia smirked, her eyes burning with fighting spirit. “Because it’d be nothing more than bullying a weakling?” “Exactly. You catch on quick.” For a moment, the two exchanged faint smiles as they looked at each other. Eric shrugged contentedly and lowered his sword. “Looks like you’ve learned arrogance from Eugene Carter pretty well. You’d better stop there — for your own good.” “Yeah, probably.” “…You could die if you’re not careful.” “Well, it’s not like dying’s the worst thing that could happen.” “……” What did she mean by that? The faint smile disappeared from Eric’s lips. He gazed upward and muttered quietly, “I wonder… if I can change too.” “Huh? Did you say something?” “No, nothing.” That was the end of their conversation. The boy averted his gaze and lifted his sword, while the girl clenched her fists as she watched him. After that, the two silently focused on training. Yet on their faces, there was no trace of the old resentment or bitterness anymore. * * * After concluding that training in area C-3013 was impossible, we spent the entire Sunday working out an alternative plan. Operation Zone C-1997. Likewise, although it was an area within Benamaur, it had only been incorporated two years ago. As such, it had been managed far longer by the Special Task Force than by the Defense Corps. However, there was one major drawback — there were no nearby villages, so they would have to establish a base themselves. Colonel Belfor’s conclusion on that matter was firm. “That’s what the kids are for.” “You’re seriously going to use high-class personnel like the Special Task Force for base construction?” “Do we have any other options? What, should we ask the 2nd Corps for help?” “…That’d be impossible.” More than anything, time was the issue. Bringing in the Special Task Force itself had already been quite a gamble — though there had been reasons to justify it. If another faction got involved now, the operation would grow far too large in scale — far beyond what a washed-up hero like me could handle. For now, it was best to resolve things within our own means. “If you were that worried about it, you shouldn’t have planned this whole field exercise in the first place, you brat.” Belfor grumbled as he tapped the map with his finger. Beside him, Walter raised another question. “But compared to Area 3013, aren’t there way fewer beasts here?” “Then we’ll just draw them out.” Driving beasts away was hard, but luring them out was easy. A little stimulation to their instincts, and they’d come bursting out from all directions as if waiting for the cue. If too many showed up, that would be a headache in itself, but that was the one variable impossible to prepare for in advance. We’d just have to adapt to the situation as it unfolded. “We’ll discuss the rest on-site that day. You two can show up early, right?” Neither of them gave a clear yes or no. I stood up and nodded. “Okay then, I’ll take that as a yes.” “Damn kid does whatever he wants.” “Agreed.” Leaving Belfor’s grumbling behind, Walter and I exited the Special Task Force headquarters. Except for two, all of the artifacts had already been handed over to the Task Force. By the time we reached Karbenna, the sun was already setting. “…Phew.” A sigh of relief escaped me — a small moment of reassurance at having returned safely. Once we arrived, we each went our separate ways as if nothing had happened. “Try not to get falsely accused of anything, Professor Walter.” “You be careful too, Carter. You never know when or where an assassin might come knocking.” That last comment was more of a bonus warning. Walter headed toward the Herbology Department, while I made my way to the dormitory. It was Sunday evening, so hardly anyone was outside. As I was about to enter my private room on the 4th floor of Building G, something caught my eye. “…What’s this?” In the personal mailbox next to my door, there was a large document envelope. After a quick shower and a change into comfortable clothes, I leaned against the bed and checked the contents of the envelope. It was a scrapbook — a collection of newspaper articles from across the Empire. The contents were extensive, and it took quite some time to read through them all. After carefully reviewing the key parts once more, I brushed my lips with my hand and chuckled. “Things are getting interesting.” It was a scrapbook summarizing the Empire’s recent developments over the past year. The main keywords were: trade, beasts, refugees, and drugs. Among them, the one that caught my attention most was drugs. “Halenber took over the western port’s trade rights from Bernhardt, and soon after, smuggling activity skyrocketed…” Naturally, the primary contraband was the drug Hockma. “…So the goal is money, huh?” I didn’t know who the trading partner was, but they certainly had guts. Even for a mighty Empire, forming shady international ties like this could only lead to trouble. “Or maybe… that’s the goal in itself.” By using Halenber to reap economic profits while creating a legitimate reason to pressure the Imperial Family — there could hardly be a better strategy. Still, the Hockma addiction spreading throughout the Empire couldn’t be ignored either. Most likely, the one pulling the strings was Bernhardt, but even they probably didn’t intend to keep things like this forever. The Empire’s downfall wasn’t in their interests either. Once they established their puppet leader, they would abruptly shift to a hardline stance — as if nothing had happened. And countless sacrifices would follow. “An Apocalypse Mode that focuses on beast extermination… and now a drug episode on top of that. Just my luck.” Scratching my throbbing forehead, I pondered who could have sent the envelope. “…Either Michel or Edel. One of the two.” It was hard to discern their true intent from this alone. If it was merely to share information about the current situation, that would make sense — but the odds of that were slim. Why had they sent it to me? What hidden motives lay behind it? How should I act moving forward? Everything was still uncertain. “Looks like next week’s going to be another busy one.” Well, this was what it meant to be MAGA, wasn’t it? I let out a faint smile. For a brief moment, their faces crossed my mind. Then fatigue and hunger struck at once, my eyelids growing heavy. Thus ended another long week.