NOVEL NEXT Chapter 79: Festival discussions
The large classroom assigned to the C Class of first-year students was abuzz with excited chatter.
The heavy stone walls seemed to hum with anticipation, a welcome change from the usual grim atmosphere of battle preparation. All the students were seated, their attention fixed on the front of the room.
Standing before them were two figures leading the meeting: Mor, the elected class representative, and a young woman named Anni.
Anni was instantly recognizable as being from the Rabbit Beastfolk, indicated by her long, twitching ears that stood straight up and her large, bright, expressive eyes.
"As you all have heard already, the Academy Festivals are to be held again this year after a long time, as approved by the Council," Mor started speaking, his voice carrying clearly over the residual murmurs. He looked pleased by the news.
"The festival will be held for three days, and all the general details have been shared with each class. And the specific details will be shared with you all by Anni now."
Anni stepped forward, adjusting a small stack of parchment. "Though this is a festival arranged with the aim of having fun, there is still a significant competition between all the first-year classes," she explained cheerfully.
"Second years aren't allowed to participate in arranging the festival, and the third years are soon to leave for the front lines, so it's all on us!"
She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "It's not officially revealed, but Professor Thorgar has told Mor and me that every performance will be counted: the money each class earns from their stalls, the competitive events, and the final night stage drama."
Anni's eyes sparkled. "The Professor said that the reward for the overall winner is still in discussion, but hopes are that we'll be awarded with a five-day tour to the city of beaches, Driftia!"
Just as Mor had predicted, loud gasps of surprise and excitement flowed out from the students. Driftia was a legendary destination, far from the Gloom-tainted inland.
"So, we have to be competitive and strive to win the whole festival!" Anni finished, emphasizing the point with a wide, determined smile.
Mor nodded sternly. "It's important that we participate in as many events as we can, and also each class has ten mandatory spots for stalls, so we need to not waste a single spot."
"We've received nine applications for stalls so far," Anni announced, holding up the parchment. "I'll call out their names and themes."
She started reading the list, the themes ranging from the practical to the highly artistic:
"Weldon for a hand-drawn painting stall."
"Missi for a clothes stall."
"Sheldon for a book stall."
Anni continued down the list, her voice quick and efficient.
Finally, she reached the last one:
"And Zenon for a shooting gallery."
Grey, Aeron, and Lenore turned abruptly as one, their heads snapping toward their quiet, stoic companion, Zenon. The shock on their faces was palpable.
"You applied for a stall?" Aeron asked, voice pitched high in disbelief. Zenon was the least talkative, least flamboyant person they knew.
"I wanted to try," Zenon said stoically, his face betraying no emotion, remaining a man of few words even in the face of his friends' surprise.
Before Grey or Aeron could ask more questions about his sudden entrepreneurial spirit, Anni started speaking again, holding up the paper with a questioning expression.
"We need one more application! Anyone interested to set up a stall? That final spot is open!" she asked, scanning the classroom.
The classroom settled into a heavy silence. Anni's question hung in the air, but no one moved.
While the reward of a trip to Driftia was tantalizing, the social pressure was immense. Being looked down upon as the weakest C Class had eroded the students' confidence; volunteering to host a stall felt like setting oneself up for public failure.
Just as Mor was about to mark the spot as unused, Blaze spoke up, earning immediate looks of surprise from his friends.
"Since no one has taken it up, I am thinking of setting up a food stall," Blaze said confidently. "Any of you guys want to help me?"
Lenore immediately voiced the collective shock. "You cook?" she asked skeptically, her expression conveying disbelief that the fiery sword user knew anything beyond combat.
"I've been cooking all the time back home," Blaze replied, shrugging slightly. "I have siblings to take care of since my mother was always at work."
The small revelation hung in the air. Everyone took in this unexpected, domestic side of the intense warrior. Grey, Aeron, and Zenon remained silent, processing the sudden fact.
Then, Grey spoke up, surprising them all again.
"I'll help," Grey said with a relaxed smile. "I know a thing or two about cooking, so I won't be a burden, I guess."
All of them, including the usually stoic Zenon, turned toward Grey, their eyes wide in shock.
Not in a million years would they have guessed him to step up. Grey was the one who always tried to step away from the limelight and 'fun,' reserving his energy only for brutal training.
They had thought the only thing he loved and knew was fighting and the gym.
"I have to participate in five events because of this fucking mission." Grey thought inside, his smile completely false, his teeth momentarily gritting.
"I don't want to do this, but I'm fucking forced to meet the requirements."
"Why not! Let's do this!" Blaze exclaimed, seizing the opportunity before Grey could possibly change his mind.
He immediately stood up, his face radiating excitement.
"We'll set up a food stall!" Blaze yelled out, making all the heads in the classroom swivel toward him.
Anni, recovering quickly from the shock of Grey's participation, smiled brightly. "A-Amazing! All right then. If no one else wants a spot, we'll give him the final spot then." She scanned the rest of the class for any last-minute volunteers.
As no one else stood up, Blaze got the final spot.
Grey let out a deep, internal sigh of helplessness, the weight of the System's ridiculous mission settling on his shoulders as he saw Blaze secure the final stall slot. He was now officially roped into the most non-combat-oriented event imaginable.