The Outer God Needs Warmth

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The morning of the Third World has dawned.

I spent the entire day yesterday tearing up the garden.

That said, not everything was uneventful.

While tidying up the garden on a weekend morning, the elderly couple from next door came out to give me some unsolicited advice.

“Oh, that’s not how you do it.”

It seems that profound literary phrases know no bounds in this world. No, I reckon my memories always shine with such feelings.

Anyway.

They ended up sharing various stories during their garden lecture and helped with the tidying. When I invited them for dinner as a thank-you, they happily accepted.

Seeing how delighted both of them were, it’s clear they’re either genuinely nice people or there’s some story behind them. But I wasn’t curious enough to dig into the past, nor did I want to pry.

So we just had dinner together and parted ways.

In this world, it seems the distance to neighbors is not as great as I thought.

Oh, and just to add, Rabo didn’t get the best reviews. They said his fur suspiciously glistens.

It’s strange; it shouldn’t be oily.

After spending an interesting weekend interacting with the neighbors, the next day rolled around.

As always, I headed to the Royal Academy for classes.

And today, I wrapped up the morning session filled with that unique sense of gloom that accompanies the start of the week.

In other words, it’s lunch time now.

And I have come to the dining hall alone.

Why, you ask?

Because Victoria has gone to settle a dispute that sprang up in the dorm. As I mentioned before, the relatively impoverished noble families have moved into the dorm.

And this year is no different.

After the riot last time, they must’ve deemed it safer to stay within the Royal Academy rather than rent a house in the capital.

So, by mid-last year, the dorms, which were solely occupied by commoners, started to fill up with nobles, and that trend has continued even after the riot has settled down to some degree.

Perhaps quite a few people have taken advantage of having entered the dorm as an excuse. After all, living space suitable for nobles here is extremely expensive.

Anyway.

There was a petty turf war last year, you know?

This year, the turf wars have not only persisted but intensified. Some commoners don’t even want to be involved, going so far as to exit through the windows.

And this turf is just an imaginary line, right?

So, yesterday, they picked on Victoria in a place that had been fine up until then.

When Victoria shot them a silent glare, they all got scared and began shaking, but they decided to call in a higher-up.

But that was on a weekend.

On weekends, those high-ranking folks aren’t around the school. The so-called respectable people don’t reside in the dorms, right?

So today, Victoria was called in. She insisted she could handle it alone and was pulled away, while Polaris, who roughly understood the situation, followed along, wondering who had the audacity to mess with her.

Why didn’t I follow?

Well, why would I?

So today, I made my way to the dining hall alone.

Since Victoria and Polaris are on-site witnessing things, I wasn’t bored at all.

The student cafeteria is not faring well either.

Good spots are occupied by the high-ranking individuals who leisurely dine, while those of a lower rank munch quickly in the corners before leaving.

Total seats available are enough for the entire student body to eat without even waiting once, but groups leave several tables empty just to draw boundary lines.

It’s a rather childish neutral zone, but in a class society, it’s not a game; it’s reality.

The problem is, as foreign groups have entered, the places one can eat have dwindled even more.

People are more simply-minded than you’d think.

You know the saying that you don’t bother a dog while it’s eating, right?

Being restricted from eating adds stress. It means an environment where students like Rabo are likely to thrive. And indeed, that has happened, hasn’t it?

What Victoria is currently experiencing — there’s a high chance she’s not the only one affected. Commoners or nobles without the protection of influence might have faced similar situations already.

But in a class society, without connections, you can’t even complain when things go wrong.

Incidents arise when someone caught in a spat refuses to back down. Those who instigate are quick to judge who can be treated poorly. So, incidents generally don’t happen often.

But why did they mess with Victoria?

Because Victoria is a commoner. Plus, she isn’t particularly noble or supported by a strong faction.

And Polaris?

While she’s powerful, when her faction gathers, Victoria has never been in attendance. From a political standpoint, Victoria isn’t part of her faction.

Oh.

When I arrived at the summoned location, I saw Victoria standing with three female students I recognized and one I didn’t.

The ones welcoming Victoria were the female students who had bullied her yesterday and a third-year student. Since Victoria is a second-year, that makes her a year senior.

I wondered if it wasn’t cowardly to confront someone of a different grade and observed the third-year’s expression through Victoria’s eyes.

But instead of anger or intimidation, she looked extremely annoyed. She had the expression of an employee suddenly pulled out for an unexpected incident.

Well, that makes sense.

Unless the scale is considerable, one has to protect when asked from below. Once affiliated with a faction, you’re bound to it forever.

Plus, if rumors spread that you didn’t protect during a crisis, it hinders future attempts at forming a faction, as memories shine brightly like that.

And this person isn’t even the top-ranked; she could be reprimanded for managing responsibilities.

It felt very military-like. In a bad way.

To put it bluntly, while I sugar-coated it, it seems they were threatening to ‘do something’ to our kids, asking if that was true.

In response, Victoria recounted her experiences as they happened.

However, because Victoria’s presence was somewhat intimidating, the third-year female student, who had initially faced her directly, began to look away.

Understandable.

It’s pretty remarkable if someone doesn’t get scared when standing right in front of someone who has slaughtered thousands with the force of their might.

And that’s when Polaris barged into the scene.

Clearly, the Barrington family’s influence is quite strong, as the third-year student immediately lowered her head. The other students next to her followed suit, sporting displeased expressions.

Class society is something else.

However, Victoria seemed displeased with that and declared to Polaris that this was her issue.

Polaris urged her not to say such foolishness, to which Victoria pointed at the girl who had picked on her in the dorm and stated that not just she, but many dorm students were suffering.

The issue is, the more she spoke, the angrier the third-year student’s expression became. Who was she glaring at, you ask?

The student next to her.

Realizing that someone nearby might cover for Victoria, it’s amusing to see her recognize that something was off.

Personally, I don’t think only the students who instigated are to blame. There are plenty of students like that in the dorm, and it just so happened that this one got caught by someone who could have tackled the spat.

Male students?

I really don’t know.

The absence of a male harvesting season leaves the male dorms as an area cloaked in mystery.

For now, the male and female dorms are separate.

Why do I say “for now”?

Because there are quite a few ‘Romeo and Juliet’ situations happening.

Young people meeting and coupling up.

In that sense, students who have found partners might be managing quite well in such situations. After all, guys can more or less happily go through things with girlfriends.

Plus, it’s not a sexually conservative world as it once seemed.

Well, it does get more conservative as you go up the ranks, but that’s for managing your blood, not suppressing sexual desire.

Anyway. Let’s focus on the current incident.

While Polaris and Victoria were talking, a third-year student intervened, proposing to let this matter slide.

Polaris looked toward Victoria as if to say she’s leaving it to her, and after a short moment of contemplation, Victoria nodded in agreement.

Surprisingly, it wrapped up without a fight.

“Um, excuse me…!”

A voice barely above a whisper, but oddly filled with joy, caught my attention. Turning my head, I recognized a student I had dined with a couple of times.

Her messy, long black hair was styled to partially conceal her face, yet her appearance is quite good. It’s almost as if she dresses to hide that fact.

How do I know?

If the messy style remains unchanged every time I see it, then it’s clear it’s not just a result of her neglecting to tidy up; it’s intentionally styled that way.

She was hunched forward, and with her ample bust, she gave off an overall plump appearance. Not quite the conventional beauty, though, given her attempt to hide it.

Upon closer inspection, various features become apparent. Unlike the spotted looking clothes, the cuffs appear quite clean. Not to mention, the collar visible through her hair lacks any dirt.

What looks stained is simply a drab patterned outer garment added on top.

Even so, doesn’t dressing up like this naturally invite ostracism?

While attempting to keep up with the latest trends by mixing in various themes, her overall presentation comes off as clumsy and would likely lead to being underestimated.

Unless her disheveled appearance is a ruse to get closer to her target — could I be that target?

She looks young… is she a scout?

“There’s a space up front.”

“Thank you.”

She promptly took a seat right in front of me.

As suspicion garners attention, details emerge that previously went unnoticed.

For instance, her gloved hands seem rather rough, and though cleverly concealed by her clothing, the presence of a harness might indicate something hidden.

But really.

It’s not uncommon to see people wearing harnesses.

Since there aren’t many clothes with pockets, lots of folks tuck away small pockets in their harnesses or belts. It’s like a makeshift corset taking the place of the usual.

Culture is fascinating, isn’t it?

Anyway, the identity of the girl dining in front of me is riding on a notably ambiguous line, but surely she isn’t like Maleficent. Most likely.

If that were the case, I’d think it permissible to draw warmth without hesitation.

There must be a reason she approached me like this. I’m likely going to see her frequently in the future.

So, it’s best to remember her name.

“I’m Belle. And you are?”

“Oh, I’m Mogrei Laksha.”

Whether my initiation of conversation has worked out well for both of us or if things just fell into place, she replied with a face full of joy.