Chapter 29 – In the Wake of the Storm

“Do the other students give you strange looks? I imagine they do.”

“They still keep their distance, yes. Seems I’ve acquired a bit of a ‘barbarian’ reputation along the way.”

“…I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I don’t think that’s quite right.”

Surely, no student would dare treat the Cradle’s hero like some sort of savage.

It was true that Deus possessed the rather uncommon black hair of an outsider.

And he did seem to embrace the physical side of things with almost excessive zeal.

Plus, let’s not forget that his expressions were a little…no, actually, quite intimidating.

But to call Deus a barbarian was simply absurd.

Even if they had, those glares would soon fade.

All it would take was that one battle, the one from that day, to change everything!

“You will become a hero, my junior. This is not a prediction, but a conviction.”

The Empire always yearns for heroes. From the initial appearance of the Gates until now.

They’re living proof that we might one day win this endless war.

Assurance that the sacrifices made thus far have not been in vain.

Decades ago, with the Grand Seven as pioneers.

Over time, coming to rest on the current hope, Shavel.

“A hero, I say! A hero! How does that feel? You can be honest with me, you know.”

“Tell me honestly. Then I’ll answer honestly, just as the Chairman instructed.”

“Ohohot! Of course. Brag about yourself all you want—”

“I’m about to die of frustration.”

…Huh? What was that just now?

“Everywhere I go. No matter where I am. Others are always circling around me. I know what they want. They probably want me to recount the events from then.”

“W-Well… Wanting to hear of a capable one’s achievements is only natural for a student of the Cradle, wouldn’t you say?”

“Because of that, I don’t have any time to exercise or train in peace!”

What is this? Is he being serious right now?

Or is this the image of a truly cold, composed man towards himself?

Or maybe highly calculated self-aggrandizement?

“Ah, um. What nonsense… ahem! That’s not it. Good luck, junior. I don’t really know what else to say beyond that.”

If I keep this conversation going, I’m going to start feeling strange myself.

Neferti, eager to change the subject, gives the Deus in front of her a swift once-over.

“Junior, you don’t seem to have a scratch on you. Senior Luciel told me you were attacked just as much as everyone else, if not even more so.”

“Each hit packed a punch, sure. But that was it. Nothing to die over, from the spiciness, I mean.”

More than anything, there was nothing to fear from someone wielding a weapon.

Even if he had used his bare hands instead, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

“Senior Luciel hasn’t fully recovered yet?”

—*Twitch!*

“Ah. Well. Um… that’s how it seems.”

Senior. It’s hard to pretend I don’t notice when you’re trembling that obviously.

Why not just stand up and say, ‘Ah! Junior’s here?’

Of course, Neferti didn’t actually say any of that.

The senior who likes her the most. And at the same time, the senior she likes the most.

If Luciel was suddenly acting like this, there must be a reason.

“Senior fought at the very front with Instructor Smith, after all. So I imagine the recovery is slower compared to mine. Explaining it like that should do the trick, right?”

“That must be it. They need to recover quickly and stride forth for that person’s romance, you know.”

“Romance? Ah. Ah, I see.”

Despite possessing Radiant Abilities, she has, from the very beginning, poured all of her effort into the sword.

Luciel called it romance, while others called it stubbornness.

And Neferti. She understands Luciel while also partially agreeing with them.

An ability-user’s strength ultimately lies in how well they can manifest their own ability.

Just like how she, being Wind-type, aims to create a stronger, faster wind.

Normally, Luciel, as a Radiant-type, should focus on using light itself with fluidity.

However, she focused more on maintaining her sword with that light rather than the Radiant Ability itself.

And with that sword. She dedicated all her attention to wielding the sword that was her dream.

One would mistake her for a weapon-type ability-user.

“What do you think, junior? Senior Luciel’s… stubbornness… ahem. That romance, I mean.”

“Are you even asking?”

Neferti nods, a smile curling on her lips.

Perhaps Deus would offer a similar sentiment to the others.

Just look at his physique—a concentration of pure, unadulterated efficiency.

Not for show, but a body honed solely for ‘battle’.

Though he wasn’t of the martial arts persuasion, he’d gleaned a thing or two from observing various ability-users.

He dared to wager that Deus wasn’t one to indulge in needless displays, like some immature ability-wielders.

This junior colleague was more like a finely sharpened blade, his being honed to the absolute limit.

Which meant. Here, in this moment, Deus’s answer would be…

“It’s magnificent.”

“I also think that part is… huh?”

“Beautiful, radiant. It fills me with respect.”

He blinked a few times, questioning if he’d misheard.

…Ah. Perhaps it was because the person in question was nearby?

Yes. That had to be it. He’d phrased the question poorly. With Luciel present.

Even if he harbored different thoughts, he’d have to say something agreeable!

“Romance, I believe, is the most ultimate goal a human can possess.”

“….”

“And those who strive to achieve it deserve our utmost respect.”

“Is that…so.”

Or perhaps this man, too, was the type to be captivated by ‘romance’?

‘Unexpected. I fully anticipated him questioning its very purpose.’

Without realizing it, his gaze flickered towards the bed beside him, still occupied by a figure buried beneath the covers.

Feigning sleep, but undoubtedly awake.

‘Fortunate, isn’t it? Senior. So fortunate. Your Highness.’

Luciel had shared that her teacher was the only one who understood her romance, her dream.

Shabel Saber. The Empire’s foremost ability-user, revered as the strongest blade.

That the formidable ability-user understood Luciel was likely due to her being her mentor.

As she, too, was a swordswoman. It was only natural for a swordsman to offer their support.

In other words, no one else, from any other perspective, understood Luciel’s romance.

Aside from Shabel, the others, even the Imperial Family, furrowed their brows at Luciel’s endeavors.

Yet here, among them. A junior colleague who wielded no sword.

Even one who seemed to prioritize extreme efficiency.

Was lavishly praising that very romance, even going so far as to call it beautiful.

And so, it was a relief. And… a touch, envious.

‘How nice for you. Senior.’

To have someone offering unwavering support by your side.

To have someone with whom to discuss the same dreams and romances.

That was a fortune not easily earned.

“A-ahem! Cough, cough!”

Suddenly, Luciel’s formerly still bed began to shake violently.

Whether it was a sudden coughing fit. Or something else entirely.

Regardless, the definitive thing was that I couldn’t just lie there obediently any longer.

Eventually, I stealthily pushed the blanket aside and sat up.

“Ah. Senior Luciel. Was I perhaps too loud? If I was…”

“That’s, that’s not it. Ahem. Oh, when did you arrive? Junior Deus?”

“Just a moment ago. But. It truly wasn’t my voice that woke you?”

“In a dream. Yes. I think I woke up because I heard some strange story in my dream.”

In that instant, Luciel’s and Nefertiti’s gazes tangled in the air.

“Pfft!”

“…!!”

Wow. Our senior. You’re a surprisingly good actor. You really seem like you just woke up!

D-Don’t tease me! President! I know my acting is incredibly awkward!

“Um.”

Deus, utterly unaware of the women’s intense sparring,

“Still, both of you are princesses and duchesses. Even if news of your injuries has arrived, how can it be so quiet? Honestly, I thought there would be more people, so I came later.”

He decided to ask about the question that had been nagging at him.

“Ah. That? It’s only natural. I, for one, told my family! From the moment I set foot here, treat me not as the daughter of the duke, but as a student and an ability-user of this Cradle! Hehehe!”

—*Swish!*

“This is precisely the attitude that a student council president must possess!”

“…”

Her skill in unfolding that fan…no matter how I look at it, it’s like a noble’s daughter. Or a madam.

Deus swallowed those words down and looked at Luciel.

“I have a similar reason to the President, Junior. There is still a hierarchy of status in the Empire, but at least this Cradle cannot enforce it. Whether you’re royalty, nobility, or commoner. If you possess an ability, you all shoulder the duty to protect the Empire.”

“…”

“The Empire’s conclusion was that making some bow their heads and others raise theirs based on their status would only dampen morale.”

At least within the Cradle, they were all fellow ability-users, and all the Empire’s hope.

Deus, hearing the two female students’ shared opinion, slyly crossed his arms.

And then, “Hmm,” he said, examining them with what he considered a sharp gaze.

‘Could it be. Are these two the protagonists or something?’

Surely not a female protagonist story? Please no gender-swap plot?

I can handle almost anything, but I’m immune to that genre.

Whether Nefertiti and Luciel looked at him strangely or not.

Deus was seriously pondering, “Who exactly *is* the protagonist?”

Why do this, you ask? To follow the original story’s flow?

Or to stick by the protagonist’s side, experiencing various events while looking for a way back home?

‘That’s all wrong! At the very least, I need to know what kind of person the protagonist is so I can at least guess the genre!!’

If something’s lacking, it’s a coming-of-age story. Conversely, if they’re strong, it’s overpowered.

If it’s serious, it feels traditional. If something’s off, it’s a comedy.

If there’s only one girl, it’s a pure romance. If there are several, it’s a harem.

Just knowing the genre will let me predict what will happen!

I don’t expect anything else. Please, just let me properly understand the genre.

That was Deus’s sole desire, as things stood.