Part 22: Final Exams (6)

The practical final was over. In other words, every exam determining our first-year, first-semester rankings had concluded.

I imagined the results of the practical had come as quite a shock to the teachers. The mission was originally intended to teach the first-years about defeat. Instead, the students had succeeded—and I, the Human Sloth, had played no small part in that success.

As a result, grading took longer than planned. Originally, they had intended to score the students on how they responded to impending defeat. But the students had won, so the grading criteria needed to be revised. That caused some minor disputes, but the expected outcome was certain.

“... I did it.”

My name was at the very top of the bulletin board displaying the final exam results. I had the highest score on the individually graded practical, and a perfect score on the written exam.

“What a relief.”

I murmured quietly. Somehow, I had managed to meet Ampere’s condition.

The students nearby must have heard my quiet voice, though, because they flinched and walked away. What was that about? How had they taken my words to react like that?

“Congratulations.”

While the other students moved away, someone approached me instead. It was Elodie. She held out a can.

“You like hot chocolate, right?”

“... Oh, right. I do.”

“What? You sound like you only just remembered.”

Elodie smiled, apparently thinking I was joking. So Frondier liked hot chocolate. I would have to remember that. It did seem rather fitting for a sloth.

“You kept your promise. Now you won’t be disowned.”

“Yeah.”

“Still, would he really disown his own son? It was just a drastic measure to make you work hard. And thanks to that, you even came in first.”

“... Yeah.”

With nothing to say to that, I gave her a flat reply.

I opened the can and thought about what came next. As Elodie said, I had avoided being disowned. For the time being. According to Malia, Ampere seemed to want to disown me.

But at least Ampere wasn’t a man who went back on his word, much less one who broke a promise. Now that I had made the top ten, he wouldn’t disown me. On the other hand, that meant he really had intended to do it. Placing among the top ten in his year would have been nearly impossible for the original Frondier.

“So what are you going to do now? Summer break’s almost here,” Elodie asked.

With the first-semester finals over, summer break was just around the corner. It lasted a month, much like in my old world. During that time, Constel was a little busier than ordinary schools. The sheer amount of supplies and facilities required for the next round of lessons and training was different, and above all, the field needed to be configured.

... And the biggest difference from my old world? Constel students hated vacation.

“Not sure. What about you?”

Elodie’s first response was a sigh.

“Well, I’ll have to go back to the Mage Tower. When you’re at the bottom, running errands left and right, vacation goes by in no time.”

Weariness radiated from her as she spoke. Like Elodie, most Constel students didn’t rest during vacation. They worked on weaknesses they had discovered over the first semester, refined their own styles, or, like Elodie, toiled under someone at a higher level.

Constel’s training was by no means easy, but it was still conducted in groups. Vacation, by contrast, was nothing but intensive private instruction. It was hardly surprising that the students dreaded it.

Elodie opened one eye to look at me.

“The old you would’ve spent the break playing, eating, and sleeping. But this time will be different, right? Constel stays open over vacation. Are you going to keep working out in the training room like you have been?”

I smiled at her words. It was good that her opinion of me had improved. Her prediction was wrong, though, so I opened my mouth to correct her.

“No, I’m—”

I gave her my answer, and Elodie looked more shocked than I had ever seen her. No, shock alone didn’t cover it. Her expression was almost one of anger.

* * *

Wild Amuse, a renowned restaurant in Yeranhes, the Roach family’s territory. Ampere, Malia, Atzier, and I were dining there to celebrate my first-place finish in the finals.

“Honestly, my son taking first place! I’m so happy. Aren’t you, darling?”

“Mm.”

Malia was making a fuss, even using the uncharacteristic endearment “darling,” while Ampere was even more taciturn than usual. Beside me, Atzier simply continued eating at a leisurely pace.

Was this really supposed to be a celebration for me? The atmosphere was terribly heavy. When Ampere gave her no real response, Malia’s gaze sharpened.

“Darling, you aren’t going to bring up disowning him or anything of the sort again, are you?”

“No.”

Then Ampere looked at me. His gaze was almost perfectly direct. Somehow, it felt as though he was truly looking at me for the first time.

“Frondier, well done.”

“... Thank you.”

Ampere, who had always seemed like a walking suit of iron armor, had praised me. Even if he wasn’t my real father, there was something in those words that made my chest swell.

“You worked very hard despite your frail body.”

But there it was. His perception of me hadn’t changed after all.

“... Darling.”

Suspicious of his remark, Malia spoke as though to stop him. But Ampere was sincere.

“I won’t make unreasonable demands of you anymore. If you wish, I’ll consider having you transferred. You hated Constel so much, after all.”

He genuinely had my best interests at heart.

“Yes. There’s a promising school in the central region that, unlike Constel, focuses on cultivating scholars and researchers. How about transferring there? With the ability that earned you a perfect written score, you would do more than well enough there, and you wouldn’t have to get hurt.”

And he genuinely did not see me as a warrior.

“... Are you serious?”

Malia had dropped the endearment from her address.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Frondier hated Constel. You know that perfectly well.”

Malia started to say something to him, then closed her mouth and looked at me instead. Frondier had hated Constel. Even I couldn’t deny that. Otherwise, why would he have slept through every day, skipped practicals, and earned the nickname Human Sloth?

Frondier had possessed not a shred of talent as either a warrior or a mage. He had felt he didn’t belong at Constel. Malia knew that, which was why she looked at me instead of arguing further. Was that still how I felt? Had I worked so hard at Constel merely so I could go back to being the Human Sloth?

... I thought I was finally beginning to understand why Ampere had tried to disown me.

‘This is a kind of overprotectiveness, too.’

Ampere, the Iron Wall of the North. If Frondier remained his son, he would inevitably have to stand on the battlefield, just like Atzier. And in Ampere’s eyes, Frondier had no chance of surviving there.

Better to survive, even if it meant abandoning the prestigious Roah name. That must have been how Ampere felt when he looked at me.

“... I...”

Which meant that what I was about to say was no different from being an unfilial son to Ampere.

“I’ve made plans for the break.”

“...?”

“Plans for the break?”

Ampere’s eye twitched, and Malia echoed my words in puzzlement. It might have sounded unrelated, but neither of them would see it that way.

With this one statement, I would answer every offer Ampere had made. It was also a good opportunity to show him my resolve.

“I’m going to Teibeon.”

The moment I said it, there seemed to be a snap, if I had to put it into words. A sound that severed every trace of commotion and noise.

The restaurant truly fell silent. Everyone who had been enjoying a casual conversation was startled by the unexplained hush. Ampere had let just a little of his presence slip, and no one inside could make a sound.

“... Frondier.”

“Yes.”

“I warned you at the last meeting. Don’t speak carelessly. You still don’t understand the weight of your words.”

His voice was beyond boiling; it was blazing. I closed my eyes for a moment.

Teibeon. A region on the northeastern frontier, governed by Lidwe von Urpa.

Ampere, who governed Yeranhes in the northwest, had never once allowed monsters from the Outside to invade, living up to his epithet, the Iron Wall. Consequently, although Yeranhes faced a high potential danger, that danger had never translated into actual damage. The residents were content, commerce kept moving reasonably well, and the soldiers’ morale was decent.

What about the northeast, then? Ampere had earned the epithet the Iron Wall simply by preventing incursions. The monsters of the Outside were so overwhelmingly powerful that merely holding them off earned a man a title.

Teibeon was different from Yeranhes. Monsters from the Outside had ravaged and trampled human settlements time and again, and countless people had died dealing with them.

People were fed into the grinder to hold the monsters back. More were fed into it to deal with those that broke through anyway, and still more to drive those monsters out again. The number of lives Lidwe von Urpa had sacrificed to keep the monsters at bay was beyond counting.

Yet no one blamed Lidwe. Because that was normal. Ampere was the anomaly for having stopped every attack. Any frontier tasked with holding back the monsters of the Outside became a hell like Teibeon.

And among those hells on earth, Teibeon was one of the most brutal. That was why most of the people Lidwe fed into the grinder were criminals whose crimes all but warranted execution. Most convicts selected for Teibeon screamed for death instead.

Anyone volunteering to go there, even just for summer break, had to be no ordinary lunatic. Right now, that lunatic was me.

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Frondier!”

This time, it was Malia.

She looked at me with concern, anxiety, and compassion in her eyes. To her and Ampere, it must have looked as though I was going off to die. Had anyone else said it, that would probably have been exactly what it meant. But I had to go to Teibeon.

For Frondier, Teibeon was a natural treasure trove. There were a considerable number of armaments approaching Divine or Unique grade, and most of them weren’t serving their intended purpose.

Besides, if I went as a volunteer rather than a convict, with the Roach family behind me, I would be treated far better. That didn’t mean I would be safe, of course, but my position would be much better than the convicts’.

‘I’ll have to face that place eventually anyway.’

Humanity was destined to be destroyed by monsters in the distant future. To overcome that fate, I would eventually have to step onto the boundary between humans and monsters. Sooner or later, that day would come. And however I looked at it, this summer break was the best possible time—when both I and those around me were functioning most smoothly.

But Ampere shook his head, as though there was nothing more to hear.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. We seem to be done eating, so we’ll go straight—”

“Father.”

I interrupted him. Cutting him off even once was scary as hell, but I had to convince him right now.

“I know I’ve been a son you couldn’t put your faith in.”

Ampere’s eyes widened. Today was probably a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see so many different expressions on his face. Even then, the changes were so slight that they were barely noticeable.

“I am a son of the Roach family. I have to go to the boundary between humanity and what lies beyond it. That is my duty.”

“Frondier, I told you. You are a frail child. Your brother and I will take care of it.”

“I won’t hide alone while everyone else is dying. Not anymore.”

“...!”

Frondier’s past weighed heavily on my shoulders, a colossal debt. His weakness had cost him his family’s trust, his indolence had made him the Human Sloth, and his wicked nature had led him to meddle with the Ten Thousand Capes.

I hadn’t done any of those things, but I was Frondier de Roach now. Having to pay for sins I hadn’t committed had felt so terribly unfair.

Only now had I decided to accept it. I had no choice but to accept it.

“I...”

I am Frondier de Roach.

“I have to pay the price for my indolence.”

The one who knows how this world ends. The one engaged in a long, long struggle to change that one thing. Frondier, the Human Sloth.