1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

80. Oh, Limberton (1)

Under the leadership of the seniors, special training sessions were added for the first-years of the Adel House every night.

Running drills, strength training, swordsmanship, and magic practice.

The first-years, already overwhelmed by regular classes, were at their wits’ end with the relentless training.

“Gah. Gah. I’m so thirsty…”

“Ugh. I almost threw up what I swallowed.”

“I’m going to lose it… I just came from after-school classes.”

There was no choice but to endure.

Though it was called voluntary, who could refuse when the representative of the Adel House was watching with piercing eyes?

“Don’t hold too much resentment. I don’t particularly enjoy tormenting people either.”

It was hard to argue, as he too was participating in the training, setting an example.

And he was doing so clad in heavy iron rods like armor…

“The moon’s already risen? Shall we call it a night here?”

Berndal sheathed the sword he had been wielding and gathered the students.

Despite his relaxed demeanor, there was an air about him that commanded respect, causing the sound of swallowed breaths to echo from all around.

“As I explained earlier, you will soon enter the practical magic exam. Some of you may have heard from the seniors, but it’s far more dangerous than the third exam. Well, for you who have entered the Adel House, I don’t think there’s much to worry about. In fact, I hadn’t planned on this kind of training at all. But…”

Berndal’s smile faded.

“I’ve heard that the Shulafe House has recently defeated the Bürger House? Now they’re baring their teeth at us. And I’ve also heard that among the first-years, there’s someone who took down Emeric.”

The first-year students of Adel Hall, standing on the brink of their final exams, had a vague understanding of who Emeric was.

Among the upperclassmen, it was whispered that it was only a matter of time before that man snatched away a seat from one of the top ten.

“We cannot tolerate scores lower than those of the Shulafe Hall brats. Especially not allowing that guy to take first place in the practical magic exam. The highest scores must always belong to Adel Hall; it’s tradition.”

In truth, losing a few other ranks to different dormitories was of little concern.

For in the first semester of their first year, there occasionally emerged shining talents among the Shulafe students.

However, the pride of Adel Hall lay in the fact that the top spot in any exam had never been taken away in history.

If such a misfortune were to occur, not only would the graduated seniors mock them, but future underclassmen would too.

“That’s all I have to say. Of course, we’ll train again tomorrow. It’s exhausting, but just endure for a month. If you must blame someone, blame those fools who escalated the situation this far.”

As Berndal departed, Sila sank down onto the training ground floor.

“Oh, I feel like I’m going to die…”

Beside her, Leana wiped her sweat with a handkerchief.

“Aren’t you tired? I heard you’ve been hauling ice from the mountains every day lately. It doesn’t even feel like a proper class; I’d give up if I were you.”

“It’s fine, Sila. Training is just something I’ve been doing every night, right?”

Sila pouted at Leana’s seemingly refreshed expression.

“Take it easy. You’re working so hard that instead of wanting to follow your example, I’m the one getting worn out just watching you.”

As she looked up at Leana, Sila caught sight of a tall man descending the stairs.

“Oh? There goes your husband!”

“Such jokes won’t work on me.”

Contrary to her words, Leana’s head turned slightly.

Seeing her expression grow cold, Sila couldn’t help but smirk mischievously.

“Am I right this time?”

“Hershel and I are not like that, I’ve told you so many times!”

“Really? But why does he keep looking over here?”

Sila continued to watch Hershel intently.

He was indeed standing in place, staring blankly.

At that moment, a small boy was spotted following him down the stairs.

“Hmm?”

Sila frowned at the distant sight of the boy’s flamboyant fashion and ridiculous hairstyle.

“It’s too far to see clearly, but surely it can’t be…”

“Not so, what is that?”

Leana blinked, her voice laced with confusion.

Sila rose from her seat, her gaze keenly fixed on the two men.

The one beside Hursel, indeed, it was him.

With a smile steeped in malice, Sila turned to Leana and asked,

“Leana. Perhaps, Limberton Bell Delsi. That pigeon b*stard, did he enroll here?”

“Your words are too coarse.”

“Is that so? Understood. Then, might I ask if the biggest fool from that empire ever graced this place?”

Such phrasing was already quite softened.

Leana seemed to find it acceptable, nodding in agreement.

“Indeed. But did you not know until now? He was always glued to Hursel.”

“What connection do you think I have with that brat?”

“There were joint classes, after all.”

“Perhaps he was too dim-witted to notice me.”

In truth, he was barely taller than her, a small stature for a man.

‘Even after all these years, he’s the same? Pathetic, even his height.’

Sila wiped the smile from her lips, her thoughts darkening.

If he was always with Hursel, then Schlaphe’s involvement was certain.

It was the Schlaphe scum that had brought her this month of suffering.

A perfect outlet for her stress.

‘Perhaps this is for the best. Should I try to kill half of them for old times’ sake?’

Sila cracked her neck with a sound that echoed like a snap.

Yet her eyes remained fixed, like a predator stalking its prey.

Sensing the unease, Leana asked, her voice tinged with concern,

“Sila. Are you alright?”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Your expression… No, never mind.”

Leana swallowed her words.

Though calm now, the fleeting glimpse of Sila’s face had been as fierce as a lion’s.

* * *

Today, the after-school class ended late.

Just then, I spotted Limberton as we made our way back to the dormitory.

With a dazed feeling, I halted in the middle of the stairs.

First-year students from the Adel Hall were slumped in the training yard.

By the looks of it, they must have been undergoing some intense training.

Had such a thing ever happened?

No, I had no memory of it.

At this point, with a month left until the practical magic exam, there had certainly been no training that lasted until nightfall.

I shook my head, dismissing my unnecessary worries.

Suddenly, I recalled that I had been descending the stairs and turned to Limberton.

“Ah, sorry. I got lost in thought for a moment.”

“······.”

“Limberton?”

Now that I thought about it, why had he stopped without a word?

I turned my head to look at him.

His face was painted with a pallor.

It was as if fear had gripped him, his shoulders trembling······.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh? Oh. Ahem, I was just briefly observing how the girls from Adel Hall look.”

“Really?”

I felt a prick of curiosity and shifted my gaze to where his eyes had lingered.

Though it was too far to see clearly, a striking mane of red hair caught my attention.

That must be Leana, without a doubt.

Then, the short girl beside her······.

Lavender hair.

They were inseparable, that much was certain.

【Sylla en Lionheart】

The Lionheart family, symbolized by the lion.

Masters of swordsmanship, renowned for their charging attacks.

The eldest daughter, Sylla, was a playable character and, for Limberton, she was the very embodiment of his nemesis.

“Let us go, Hessel. The hour grows late.”

Limberton hurriedly descended the stairs.

I sighed, gazing at the back of his head.

Their meeting was indeed preordained.

Between playable characters, interactions could turn one into a trial for the other, and this was a path Limberton had to tread if he wished to avoid retiring from the narrative.

It was all due to the blessing he bore.

● Blessing

◆ Favor of the Wind Hermit ◆

η Do not ask about me. I am but a nothing.

In cases like this, where the name remains shrouded in mystery, the power hidden within could only be revealed upon achieving certain conditions.

The means of liberation varied among playable characters, yet for Limberton, the key lay in inner growth.

The first threshold was the Seraline.

I decided to probe Limberton, testing if he was ready to overcome it.

“Limberton, shall I introduce you to a girl? This time for real.”

“Really?”

“Indeed. What about the girl next to Leana? If you strike up a conversation, I think you might get an introduction.”

As expected, Limberton spun around sharply, displaying a clear refusal.

“I’m fine. Ah, suddenly feeling tired? I just want to go inside and rest.”

“Fine, you say? The way you swoon over girls, it’s strange to hear you decline.”

I spoke with a teasing tone, deliberately prodding at Limberton’s mood.

“Do you know her, perhaps?”

“······.”

It seemed still too much to ask.

I had no desire to unearth another’s painful memories.

“If you don’t want to talk, that’s alright.”

I stepped down the stairs, thinking he would manage on his own when the time came.

But then, Limberton, who had kept his lips tightly sealed, murmured softly.

“…Well, if it’s you, I suppose it’s okay to tell.”

“Hmm?”

Now, this was surprising in its own right.

Though we’ve grown somewhat familiar of late, I am not without my own share of dark memories tied to this creature.

Limberton exhaled a deep sigh before continuing.

“Was it when I was ten? There was an incident. The setting was a court ball… You know how the young noble children gather separately, right? I was there too.”

In truth, it was a tale well-known to all.

Yet, as he spoke with such gravity, I feigned ignorance.

“I was just a boy then. Approaching a girl I had never seen before felt daunting. Still, there was one girl I longed to speak to. So, I mustered my courage. But… I was merely trying to be brave…”

Limberton’s voice trembled, as if on the verge of tears.

“Out of nowhere, she dumped stew on my head. I had only tried to say hello.”

This was a distortion of his memory.

In Sylla’s recollection, the ten-year-old boy had approached, spouting some nauseating line, and was justly punished for it.

Had Limberton not been a mere child at that time, his words would have warranted the arrival of the constabulary.

“My clothes were drenched. I worried about how to explain this to my mother. But then, that girl brought a pillow, tore it open, and showered me with duck feathers. Ugh, duck feathers…”

Thus, the nickname “Chicken Pigeon Limberton” was born.

“The other children laughed uproariously. They pointed and cackled, and perhaps having learned from the commoners, they hurled the most vile insults at me.”

Limberton seemed to struggle to continue, fighting back tears with great effort.

Indeed, it was not an event a ten-year-old could easily bear.

After all, the court ball was a dream and a debut stage for young nobles.

Yet, not only was he branded a fool in front of his peers, but he also had to show his parents the sight of himself covered in feathers.

“…That’s harsh. Duck feathers are too much.”

“It was duck feathers.”

“Chickens or ducks, it’s all the same.”

“Calling it a chicken is an insult. Isn’t a duck far better?”

Well, judging by his calm demeanor now, it seemed he wouldn’t mind facing Sylla.

Much time had passed, and Limberton’s confidence had been on the rise, hadn’t it?

At least within the confines of Shulape, his popularity had seen a slight increase.

“By the way, Hessel. There’s something I wanted to ask before but didn’t. Can I ask it now?”

“Hmm? Go ahead.”

As his feet touched the ground, Limberton looked up.

“Why do you hang around with me?”

“That’s a rather broad question, isn’t it?”

“Cough, no, what’s it called? You and I are different from the very seed, aren’t we? The lineage, yes, I hate to admit it, but this, this.”

Limberton swept his palm across his face.

I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the sight.

“Ha, is that really what you’re so curious about?”

“Stop stalling and just say it, will you?”

“Well, I think I’ve already told you the reason.”

It must have been during the defense against the monsters.

At that time, the atmosphere had been one of pressing him, so I had brushed it off lightly.

—Limberton? I usually think of you as a splendid fellow. Even when you show such pathetic sides, you still manage to do your part when it truly matters.

—Oh, what a shy thing to say.

—But, when it comes to women, you seem to lose all your composure.

—Cough.

Though the conversation ended with a jest, those words were sincere.

“I don’t remember, though. What did I say?”

“I don’t want to repeat myself. But if I were to add something, hmm…”

I let out a soft hum and gazed at Limberton.

“I’ll give you credit for the mental fortitude to still approach women after all that.”

This thought had crossed my mind through our earlier exchange.

Perhaps he was trying to overcome the trauma caused by women by seeking them out again.

Or maybe not.

“Indeed, my path is not wrong.”

“No, it is. Keep thinking of women as mere playthings. Just a little movement, and they’ll fly away like a dragonfly.”

“Tch.”

This fellow was simply born with such a nature.