Quit The Hero Party

EP.43 Class Observation (2)

“You all sometimes seem to underestimate the class you’ve chosen, Wizard.”

Professor Charlotte of Intermediate Elemental Magic.

She’s quite popular among the students. Being younger than other professors and having a flexible teaching approach has made her a favorite.

“Naturally, everyone thinks that the Battle Mage is the way current mages should aspire to be, right?”

Just today, seeing the students’ concentration dwindling, she naturally brought up a topic that students liked to start a casual conversation.

“Well, that can’t be helped. The Battle Mage is a class directly invented by the famed Ashen Mage, Raniel.”

The moment Raniel, that famous Ashen Mage’s name was mentioned, the students’ eyes sparkled.

‘Indeed, there seems to be no better subject to regain concentration than that person…’

With a wry smile, Charlotte continued.

“Certainly, the usefulness of the Battle Mage class is far superior to that of other classes. But do you all know?”

Charlotte waved her finger back and forth.

“The Ashen Mage Raniel also belongs to the Wizard class.”

“Huh? Isn’t she the Battle Mage class?”

“But she’s the founder of that class…”

The students reacted, and Charlotte shook her head.

“She has been registered as a Wizard class since 15 years ago, and she has never requested to change her class.”

Why create a class called Battle Mage but not change her own class to it?

This was a hotly debated topic in the aesthetics community for a while.

Various theories circulated regarding that question.

One theory suggested she didn’t have the time to request a class change because she was so busy, another respected her mentor, Rosel, and another claimed it was to uphold the fundamentals of the Ashen Tower…

Countless hypotheses floated around.

Among them, the most believable was this one, and recalling it, Charlotte opened her mouth.

“Before standing on the battlefield, the Ashen Mage, Raniel, loved researching magic and solving difficult problems.”

An outstanding magic scholar.

A person who has solved numerous difficult problems.

The Ashen Mage was closer to being a scholar than an adventurer who defeats monsters with magic.

“And she always emphasized the importance of the basics of being a mage.”

Mages are the ones who illuminate the unknown.

Exploring and defining the unknown is the essence of a mage.

It was a common phrase that the Ashen Mage carried with her.

“In the end, although she came to use magic for ‘combat’ purposes on the battlefield…”

Charlotte spoke the final sentence with respect.

“I wonder if she wanted to emphasize her fundamental identity as a mage, a Wizard?”

This was a line extracted from part of the hypothesis.

Even if she inevitably developed Battle Magic for battlefield efficiency, she wanted to remain a magic scholar rather than a mage for war.

The fact that she hasn’t requested a class change after retiring from the battlefield may be due to that.

Most magic scholars thought so.

“Oh…”

The students let out a subtle gasp of admiration. Charlotte smiled lightly and began to organize her teaching materials.

‘Come to think of it, there was that hypothesis too.’

Then suddenly, a bizarre hypothesis came to mind regarding why the Ashen Mage didn’t change her class.

– What if she just didn’t realize she had created a new class?

‘That’s ridiculous.’

Charlotte shook her head. It was an absurd hypothesis, and she wasn’t the only one thinking that way.

‘Didn’t the mage who made that absurd claim get beaten up and expelled from the magic world?’

Surely, that was the case.

“The Ashen Mage wouldn’t do such a thing.”

Charlotte nodded.

2.

‘Damn it, what even is this utterly absurd class?’

Raniel swallowed a string of curses that threatened to escape her throat. It’s utterly incomprehensible.

Apuria Academy.

This was supposed to be an academy for magic studies, right?

‘So why am I learning martial arts?’

It didn’t make sense.

Raniel glared at Professor Mackhart, who was tugging at her arms and legs.

“Come on, keep up!”

She was being dragged here and there.

In this warm weather, throwing punches and studying martial arts. Raniel bit her lips.

‘Teaching can be like this sometimes.’

It’s not like Raniel didn’t have experience with this.

She had previously been half-forced to participate in training being part of the Knights Order.

This level of training, even if it was annoying, she could roll with it.

‘The problem is this bastard… no, the professor.’

“Come on, keep up!”

The professor was yelling loud enough to make her ears ring. His voice was maddening, but what made her angrier were his repeated phrases.

“You can do it, so why can’t you?”

How can I do what is impossible?

“Like this! Like this! Is this hard?”

How is anyone supposed to follow that?

Each of his words scraped against Raniel’s nerves. For once, she wished he would just shut his mouth, as she made yet another silent wish.

But Mackhart’s nagging continued, and finally, he uttered that one word.

“This is basic!”

Basic.

The word Raniel loved.

‘Is this what you call basic?’

Raniel held back rising laughter. A smile threatened to break out across her face.

‘This isn’t what basic is supposed to be…’

– This is basic.

Suddenly, Raniel’s body stiffened.

“……”

She felt a strange deja vu from Mackhart’s tone. Something, something felt familiar.

As she chewed on that familiarity, Raniel paid attention to what Mackhart was saying. Then, it started to make sense.

“You can do it, so why can’t you say?”

– Well it worked for me?

Mackhart’s voice was accompanied by her own.

“I showed you an example. Shouldn’t it be easy to just follow?”

– I showed you, you just follow. Is that hard?

Ah.

“Do you have no basics? Is it that difficult to do this much?”

– Huh… don’t you… have any basics? I thought you could do this much.

Raniel’s eyes widened.

She had a look as if she realized something.

‘All of this, these were things I said.’

She hadn’t realized it while speaking.

But now, in the role of listener, it became clear.

‘This is how it sounds from the listener’s perspective.’

Raniel gently closed her eyes.

It felt as though she had gained a profound realization.

Of course, Raniel and Mackhart were different. The examples Mackhart showed were lacking. His words were filled with malice. In contrast, Raniel’s examples were perfect, filled with sincerity.

But Raniel didn’t know that.

She was merely reflecting on how her words might sound.

This reflection soon led to an epiphany.

And in some sense, it touched the essence of the problems she faced.

‘So that’s what it meant, Master.’

Surely, what Rosel wanted was not a realization like this, but either way, Raniel figured something out.

Raniel turned her creaking head.

There was still Mackhart, who was nagging away.

“I truly don’t understand!”

Gazing at the professor with a confused look on his face, what came to mind?

‘Hmm.’

Raniel began to combine the scenes racing through her mind into words.

‘I want to smash his head in.’

With what?

‘With a very large stone.’

Raniel nodded briefly.

‘I understood, Master.’

Realizing was a mistake on her part.

After a successful self-reflection after a whopping 12 years, Raniel watched Mackhart with a slightly blank expression.

“Like this! Like this… huh?”

Mackhart, who had been enthusiastically demonstrating, suddenly stiffened. He turned slowly.

‘Did I just feel a murderous intent?’

It felt like the killing intent she once felt on the battlefield.

But all that stood behind him was a somewhat dazed girl.

‘Just a misunderstanding, right?’

Mackhart resolved to think that way.

“Now, like this! Come on, give it a try!”

He began demonstrating eagerly as before, unaware that Raniel’s eyes were slowly glazing over.

3.

“The second class of the day is external practice. Follow me.”

Mackhart Krepfelt.

He had prepared extensively for this class. It wasn’t just to embarrass that rookie professor, Rania.

Mackhart is a knight.

However, his mindset isn’t entirely knightly.

He harbored a strong desire for showmanship.

He enjoyed showcasing his skills and gaining recognition.

But he lacked the skills to show off. As a result, Mackhart, who escaped honorably from the battlefield, was very satisfied with the job of “professor.”

Through teaching, he could flaunt his skills.

By observing the reactions of students, their need for recognition could be fulfilled.

‘The recent beast terrorism incident has been unfortunate.’

For him, this incident was quite regrettable. Instead of cleansing beasts alongside knights, he should have showcased his abilities among the gathering students.

This was something he didn’t get to show the students back then.

To display that, Mackhart had extensively planned this class.

– On-site practice.

– Real cases against beasts.

Recently, Apuria had been swept into the beast terror incidents.

Mackhart had pounced on just that.

He personally approached Dean Aaron, asserting that ‘students also need practical experience with beasts’ as an excuse to secure on-site practice.

“As informed in the recent academic announcement, this class will take place on the land of the Krepfelt family. The outskirts of the Krepfelt estate has a breeding ground for beasts.”

The Krepfelt family, to which Mackhart belongs, has produced many knights. Naturally, this means they also have a few beasts used for training.

“Of course, the magic of the beasts we are raising has been extracted. There’s no risk of tainting even if bitten. If injured, priests will treat you immediately.”

Hearing that, the students’ expressions turned sour. The very existence of beast evoked a sense of repulsion.

“Don’t worry. The level of beasts is quite low. These are beasts I captured with my bare hands when I was your age.”

Mackhart headed deeper into the forest. His students followed behind.

“If we encounter difficult beasts, I’ll watch over you and intervene immediately…”

Just as Mackhart was saying this, he suddenly halted. Something felt off.

There should be guards spread throughout the forest where the beasts were being raised. However, there was nobody around.

‘…Something’s off?’

Moreover, the lock on the iron gate had been smashed.

“Let’s move a little faster.”

Mackhart hastened his steps, crossing the iron gate towards the breeding ground. With each step, the pungent smell of blood pricked his nostrils.

‘The stench of blood.’

At some point, the bodies of beasts came into view.

The carcasses of beasts were scattered everywhere. The blood from their bodies flowed in a continuous stream.

Following the blood trail, Mackhart walked.

And then.

“Mackhart Krepfelt.”

Someone called his name.

There was no need to turn towards the source. The owner of the voice stood at the end of the direction Mackhart was headed.

“Hoo.”

A man with brown hair clad in a dark blue coat.

In one hand, he held a sword while sitting atop the corpses of the beasts, smoking a cigarette.

The rising smoke.

Flesh mixed with the blood of the beasts dripped from the sword’s tip.

It was a chilling sight.

“So there’s a reason you’re on the list of suspects for being a betrayer.”

The man started to speak.

“The Krepfelt family is renowned for producing knights. A breeding ground for beasts? It’s perfectly plausible, right? I can acknowledge that. It’s been officially registered for a long time, so this is no issue.”

“What do you mean… .”

“And this class.”

Hoo.

The man exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke.

“Since Apuria was caught up in the beast terror incidents, you’re teaching how to deal with beasts. It’s certainly a good excuse. Quite convincing. This could be viewed as acceptable.”

Ignoring Mackhart’s words, the man continued to speak. His tone was like a casual conversation at a bar. It felt neither accusatory nor inquisition-like.

“However.”

The tone changed in an instant.

“This cannot be overlooked.”

Pulling the sword that had been partially embedded in the ground, he casually nudged the corpse of a beast next to him.

“This beast is not one that your students should face. It’s not a level even retired Mackhart can handle.”

Mackhart narrowed his eyes as he examined the beast.

‘Is that… a Dark Troll?’

As far as Mackhart remembered, there were no such beasts in the breeding ground. Even if there were, they would have been standard trolls, not something as high-level as a Dark Troll.

“Something feels wrong here…”

“Yeah, there might be something wrong. Perhaps the ‘fragments’ found in the last Apuria terror incident amplified the magic in the area, leading to abnormal occurrences in the breeding ground. It’s possible.”

The man extinguished his cigarette by rubbing it against the back of his hand.

“This too could potentially be dismissed as one of those ‘abnormal occurrences.’ But there are two problems with that.”

He raised two fingers.

“One is that currently, Mackhart Krepfelt, you are a primary suspect.”

Folding his middle finger.

“Two is that you led students here. In our circumstances, we have no choice but to be suspicious.”

He curled his index finger down.

“We’ll discuss the details back at the base.”

“W-who are you to be so rude…!”

“Rudeness is permitted in my position.”

Thud.

The man tossed his scabbard at Mackhart.

“……”

Mackhart looked down at the scabbard lying at his feet. At first glance, it seemed no different from any regular scabbard.

However, what caught Mackhart’s attention was the pattern engraved on the scabbard.

‘The royal family’s insignia…’

The royal family’s insignia was engraved on the scabbard.

However, it was upside down, almost as if it were representing the shadow cast by the emblem.

Mackhart recognized that insignia.

‘The insignia representing the back of the royal family.’

Gulp.

Mackhart swallowed his dry saliva.

Slowly lifting his gaze, he looked at the man.

‘What the hell.’

He suddenly realized the identity of the man who was watching him, resting his chin on his hand.

A sword that can only be wielded by the royal family.

The sharpest dagger owned by the royal family.

A special forces unit loyal to the royal family.

Some refer to them respectfully as the Royal Guard.

But most refer to them as ‘this.’

Hound.

The royal family’s hunting dogs.

“This interrogation won’t be as gentlemanly as the last time.”

The hound bared its teeth.

4.

“This interrogation won’t be as gentlemanly as the last time.”

I blinked.

‘I’ve definitely heard that voice somewhere before?’

There was something oddly familiar about that voice.

I subtly broke away from the line and gazed at the man confronting Mackhart.

His brown hair swept back.

Narrowly opened eyes.

And a clamped cigarette.

‘Ah.’

The moment I saw that cigarette, memories surged back. There were many knights who smoked on the battlefield, but the shape of that unique cigarette was unmistakable.

‘Tracker, Kalt.’

Among knights, he was known for his keen detection of magic and was nicknamed ‘Dog Nose.’

‘I think he was my aide at some point.’

I recalled that when Kalt located magic, I would often sweep in and clear things up, indicating we had conducted missions together.

‘Long time no see.’

I lowered my gaze to the ground.

There lay the scabbard Kalt had thrown. I recognized the pattern engraved on that scabbard at a glance.

‘The royal family’s hunting dogs, Hound.’

It wasn’t surprising that I recognized it.

After being injured in battle and retiring, I’d recommended Kalt to the Hound, the job he now held.

‘Nice climb up the ladder, huh?’

When I spotted my old colleague in the battlefield, warmth filled me and I instinctively waved my hand.

But then I halted abruptly.

‘Why’s he looking at me like that?’

Kalt’s gaze was intense.

It felt akin to how he would look when tracking magic on the battlefield. I turned to see where Kalt’s gaze was directed.

‘The pocket?’

What did I have tucked away in my pocket?

With space-expanding magic, I stuck whatever I could find inside this bag…

‘Ah, right.’

A thought crossed my mind.

Those things I picked up from the sewer and the end of the professor’s office hallway.

I must have placed them somewhere to avoid clutter, probably in my pocket.

“……”

I silently met Kalt’s gaze.

“Hoo.”

Kalt let out a short breath and rose from his seated position.

He spun his wrist to readjust his grip on the sword. It was easy to predict where those movements were directed.

“The culprit is different.”

At last, he spoke.

“A filthy betrayer.”

Uh…

‘Why did it come to this?’

Thud, Kalt struck the ground with his sword’s tip.

The movements of a knight who had rolled on the battlefield were as agile as ever, unblemished.

Whoosh.

In an instant, Kalt closed the distance and swung his sword.

“Oh dear.”

I let out a sigh as I watched the oncoming blade.

Who knew I would be forced into absurd martial arts training under this sweltering sun, listening to a professor who couldn’t take on even the slightest thing about the basics.

‘And now, my subordinate, whom I haven’t seen in ages, is attacking me with his sword.’

At that moment, I felt a twinge in my neck.

Still, I couldn’t indiscriminately kill these annoying bastards, so I tried to hold back my anger as much as possible.

‘That’s right, who am I? I’m the guy who endured the idiocy of Sara and Remia for a whopping five years!’

I recalled the days spent enduring Sara and Remia’s nonsense. I had managed to stand firm through all their annoying antics.

Just hold on for a little longer and it’ll clear up…

‘Huh?’

Something feels off.

‘Why does it feel more infuriating now?’

Author’s Note (Postscript)

Successfully completed mirror therapy!

I’m pursuing a growth story that says goodbye to the hero party!

*Ordinarily 5,000~5,500 characters long!

Today’s length is 9,000 characters!

Though Novelpia counts characters excluding spaces… Anyway!

I thought about splitting it into two parts, but it felt too awkward to cut, so I included it all.

If I split it in the middle, this episode would feel dragged out!

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