1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

126. Emergency (3)

Melton had been a standout since his first year, praised by the promising seniors, and his skills were exceptional, earning him recognition from the professors.

Even as a second-year, he stood shoulder to shoulder with the elite third-years, securing the seventh position among the Ten, leaving no room for doubt about his abilities.

Yet now, Melton was in a foul mood.

“Are you deaf? I said stand at attention properly.”

—

—

The fact that more than six had yawned and left meant they expected me to handle it myself.

Even after I had shouted to instill some discipline, the man before me, looking like a blonde scoundrel, merely stared back with a sullen gaze, as if I were a nuisance.

“I don’t want to.”

“What?”

Meldon found himself momentarily speechless; he had never encountered such a thoughtless human before.

Wasn’t the senior supposed to be a figure of reverence, akin to the heavens?

Especially in the case of the Shulafe, who had to constantly look up to the Adel, always on edge like a sharpened blade.

“Sure, there have been a few like you. Dimwits who can’t discern right from wrong. But you know what? There’s a remedy for that too.”

Of course, it was physical therapy.

Professors always favored the ten. The Frost Heart treated those with skill well.

Simple violence was often praised as a means to restore order.

“Shall we start by making you shed some tears?”

Just as Meldon was about to throw a punch at Hessel’s nose, it happened.

“Ugh!”

A searing pain erupted within him.

Meldon trembled, tears welling in his eyes.

Rolling them, he caught sight of Professor Gomon, panting and brandishing his cane nearby.

‘C-Curse of control? Why?’

Professor Gomon rushed over, grabbing the nape of Meldon’s neck.

“Hey, if you’ve come, you should quietly return to the dorm and rest. Why are you bothering someone who’s working hard?”

Is that what you call hard work?

Meldon couldn’t help but think of Hessel, who had been lounging about, watching leisurely.

“Excuse me?”

“Ha, Hessel. I’ll take care of this nuisance.”

Regardless of his words, Professor Gomon dragged Meldon away.

As the two men disappeared, Emeric and Harmon, who had been watching the scene from a distance, clicked their tongues in disappointment.

“Damn, the nuisance was over there.”

“What can we do, Emeric?”

They had just returned from the magical realm, unaware that Hessel had captured the bloodied serpent.

Rumors spread quickly, but reaching the depths of the magical realm was no easy feat.

—

—

They had likely been cooped up in the carriage the whole time, with no chance to breathe.

Yet, the moment that news reached them, everything was set adrift.

“Ah, isn’t that just the moment when Professor Gomon spills everything?”

At Hamon’s words, Atra, who had appeared from who knows where, pulled out her notebook and replied.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ve got some hired hands on standby just in case. By now, they’re probably clinging to Professor Gomon, leaving him no room to speak.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“More than that, should I show you the betting slips?”

The stakes of the gamble were not determined by mere wins or losses.

Only the wager on how long one could withstand Hursel was laid bare.

Three seconds had the highest odds, and as the seconds increased, the odds dwindled.

Atra tucked her notebook into her pocket and spun on her heel.

“Well then, I think I’ll go see if I can peddle some potions to the others.”

As she departed, Hamon scratched his head.

“Now that I think about it, she’s quite sharp, isn’t she?”

“Well, her combat skills may be lacking, but her exam scores have always been top-tier. If she had trained a bit, she could’ve managed a chin-up on the Adel Tower. I wonder if she’d be better than that.”

At Emeric’s cryptic words, Hamon inquired.

“What do you mean?”

Emeric slowly blinked, his eyes narrowing as he answered.

“I’m not sure if it’s wise to be doing this in the current situation.”

Professors, along with students from the Adel Tower, were all mobilized for repairs.

As if they were racing against time…

“Oh, didn’t you hear? They’re sending someone down from the Pathfinder headquarters. To award Hursel a medal, no less. Isn’t that what Rockefeller is fussing about?”

“…Still, it feels a bit excessive.”

“Don’t worry too much. It’ll just be a low-ranking official. They’ll only be stopping by briefly to deliver some items.”

Emeric nodded at Hamon’s words.

It was the first time the stronghold had been so severely damaged, and they were likely pouring their efforts into cultivating a good image.

Even if a low-ranking official came and went, if they reported this to headquarters, it wouldn’t bode well.

Yet, Oh-Han showed no signs of retreating.

‘What is this ominous feeling…?’

Emeric resolved to trust his instincts and shake off the unease.

—

“I shall take my leave. The rest is for you and Atra to handle, Harmon.”

The coin is already overflowing.

Emeric knew well that excessive greed brings forth disaster.

* * *

Inside the carriage, Arental turned to the officer seated across from him.

“How does it look? In this attire, do I not seem ordinary?”

The garb he wore was not the robe of an elder, but rather the typical uniform of a lowly subordinate.

“…It’s adequate. In that outfit, you shouldn’t draw attention.”

“Thank the stars for that. I wouldn’t want to trouble you with my presence.”

At his words, she raised an eyebrow, suppressing the question, ‘Are you perhaps disguising yourself for an unexpected inspection?’

The carriage began to draw closer to the Frost Heart Citadel.

Arental gazed out at the passing scenery with a nostalgic glimmer in his eyes.

“It’s been a while since I’ve returned to my alma mater; it stirs excitement within me. Those were truly joyful days.”

The officer, curiosity lacing her voice, asked, “Ah, right. I’ve heard rumors that your senior is a duke; is that true?”

Arental grinned widely.

“Indeed, that was the case. Suddenly, I recall how I used to follow Aoel around like a shadow. I was a hot-blooded youth back then, eager to learn all I could.”

“To think you’d meet his son; it must be quite a poignant experience.”

A sudden worry flickered across the officer’s face.

“But is it alright? The rumors about Hessel von Tenest aren’t particularly favorable…”

A laugh burst forth from Arental’s lips.

“Excuse me… Arental, my lord?”

“Oh, my apologies. I was just reminded of those times. Your senior certainly had his fair share of mischief. Even the professors feared him at times.”

As Arental wore a contemplative expression, the officer tilted her head in confusion.

Aoel was known not only for his strength but also for his solemn and gentlemanly demeanor.

Imagining such a man causing trouble felt dissonant.

“Indeed, it seems blood cannot be denied. Hessel von Tenest must have inherited this trait from the duke, wouldn’t you agree? Ha ha.”

As he chuckled heartily, the carriage arrived at the front gates of Frost Heart.

* * *

Word had reached them that the carriage had arrived.

The students have been instructed not to wander about, but to engage in exemplary behavior within the dormitory or the castle.

I, who was to receive a commendation, wait in the indoor garden just below the principal’s office.

The moment the elder arrives at the principal’s office, the professor will call for me.

“Quite neatly arranged, isn’t it, Hursel?”

Donathan expressed his thoughts on the restored indoor garden.

Originally, this place had been a battleground for Luon and the protagonists, where flowers had been trampled and the stone floor was choked with dirt.

The walls had been broken as well, but thankfully, the statues remained untouched.

“Of course, it was the most effort put forth.”

As I admired the garden, now pristine as if newly built, I pondered which elder might arrive.

Suddenly, the sound of boots echoed, and someone spoke in an excited tone.

“This place has changed quite a bit.”

From the tone and the Pathfinder uniform, it seemed they hailed from Frost Heart.

It was not unusual for alumni to visit their alma mater from time to time.

Yet, upon seeing the kind face of a middle-aged man, tremors began to quake in my pupils.

Arental Man Dreion.

One of the elders from the headquarters.

Our eyes met.

“Oh, there was someone here before me. I was just reminiscing and ended up speaking to myself, didn’t I? If I’ve interrupted you, I apologize.”

In the face of this sudden encounter, no words sprang forth from my lips.

Only questions swirled in my mind.

Why is such a figure dressed so modestly, like a mere subordinate?

After much contemplation, I sprang up from the bench and greeted him.

“Good to see you, Lord Arental.”

It seemed he had intended to conceal his identity, but it would be no trouble to be found out at once.

His optimistic nature and the fact that no one would be angry about it reassured me.

Arental, perhaps feeling bashful, scratched the back of his head and smiled wryly.

“Oh dear, have I been discovered already? I wonder how you figured it out.”

“I saw your portrait hanging in the main hall. I thought I’d mention it just in case, and thankfully, I was not mistaken.”

As Arental approached me, he let out an exclamation of admiration.

“Ah, that portrait. But this is strange. I was much younger then, so I must look quite different now. My skin, too, was fuller back then.”

“…As I mentioned earlier, I had no certainty. Yet, perhaps because your features are so striking, it came to mind immediately.”

I spoke with just the right amount of restraint.

Arental seemed intrigued by my response, gesturing as he settled onto the bench.

It appeared he wanted me to sit as well.

“How is life at the academy treating you?”

“I am happy.”

Arental chuckled, clearly pleased with my answer.

“Ah, such positivity! I like it. So, are there still strange occurrences happening? Like malevolent spirits appearing, bizarre monsters awakening, or portals to unknown places manifesting?”

I answered boldly once more.

“Oh, were there such events in the past? How surprising! Not a single one has occurred during my time. Perhaps it’s thanks to the professors’ diligent management.”

Those professors were a breed I had no desire to defend.

Yet, to secure the funding that flowed into the academy, I had to present it as a model of excellence.

Only with that funding could I seize what I desired.

“Is that so? I should suggest they grant you a bonus then. Ah, by the way, do you need any facilities or teaching materials? There’s an abundance of old things here. It’s about time for a change.”

“Well, there are a few things. Everyone has managed them so well that we’ve made do until now, but, being objects, they do have a lifespan.”

Arental pulled out a notebook and began to listen intently.

I started with the outdated equipment in the armory, detailing the replacements and additional supplies I had overseen.

He jotted down each item with a serious expression, then smiled sheepishly.

“Ha! The library only has such books. Sometimes, it wouldn’t hurt to bring in some genre fiction to clear the mind a bit.”

“Though I aim for Pathfinder, being human, such thoughts do occasionally arise. Very rarely, mind you.”

After noting a few more items, Arental tucked the notebook away.

“This has been helpful. It wouldn’t be a bad idea for the headquarters to consider what you’ve mentioned.”

He pulled out a pocket watch and stood up.

“Oh dear, I’ve kept you too long.”

“It’s nothing. I enjoyed my time with you, Arental.”

“Thank you for saying so! Well then, I must attend to my own matters. The truth is, I came here to reminisce a bit and check on something.”

Arental gazed at a statue in the corner.

He didn’t say it aloud, but I knew why he was drawn to that statue.

There was an Easter egg there, a name he had carved in secret during his student days, a name belonging to a lost love.

I found myself lost in thought, realizing it might take longer than expected, and turned my gaze to the landscape beyond the window.

* * *

The seventh-year students, having learned the practicalities, must submit their reports to Akandrik and show their faces.

They needed to hear some kind words, after all, but they were suddenly given a waiting order upon news of an unexpected guest.

“I see the fatigue hasn’t yet faded. I shall rest a bit longer in the dormitory.”

“Oh, me too. Meldon, you know the professor will call for us when he needs us, right?”

“Ah, yes. Please rest comfortably.”

The four men and women stretched and vanished.

Meldon huffed as he spoke to the seniors from the sixth and fifth years.

It was a continuation of what he had said earlier.

“Seriously, that blonde guy said that? He’s so curt and arrogant that I thought I’d teach him a lesson, but then Professor Gomon suddenly tried to pull me away from him.”

A senior girl from the fifth year replied.

“Professor Gomon said that? His personality is so meek, honestly. He’s from the first year, after all.”

A senior boy from the sixth year responded.

“Isn’t it ridiculous? That guy must have been just as strict when he was a student, just like us. Now he pretends to be all nice.”

The girl frowned.

“Anyway, is that blonde guy the one? The one Atla mentioned earlier, Hursel or something, the notorious one?”

“Could it be that Hursel? No way.”

As the boy shook his head, the girl asked.

“What’s up, is he famous or something?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know since you’re from the West. He’s infamous, to put it mildly. But you’ve heard of the Tenest family, right? He’s their eldest son.”

“Oh, Tenest.”

Meldon, who had been listening, scratched his head.

Hursel, isn’t he that infamous troublemaker?

It wasn’t certain if that blonde guy was indeed the eldest son of the Tenest family, but it didn’t matter much.

‘Let’s say he is. What does it matter if his family is powerful? Now that I’m at Frost Heart, I’ll have to fend for myself.’

Meldon chuckled at the thought of what Atla had said.

A weakling with a stubborn mind, refusing to listen no matter how much you beat him down.

That was simply because he wasn’t a pro in that regard.

‘If he doesn’t like it, I’ll just have to teach him a painful lesson.’

Having been well-versed in such matters even before coming to the academy, Meldon straightened his shoulders and walked on.

—

Then, she noticed a woman standing blankly in front of the stairs.

The woman wore a robe, and oddly enough, a compass emblem—the symbol of the Pathfinder—was emblazoned on her back.

The senior female student, with a startled expression, urgently tugged at her sleeve.

“L-Let’s take another path.”

“Pardon?”

“That outfit, she’s an officer. My brother said she holds a high position. It won’t do us any good to be seen by her now.”

The senior male student replied in a hushed voice.

“No wonder there’s such a commotion at the Academy. The professors seem wary of that woman; we should keep our distance. If we make a mistake, we’re all done for.”

“Then, senior. Let’s head to the garden and wait. If I hear the professors’ footsteps in the hallway, I’ll step out and ask if they called for me.”

With no other choice, they decided to step into the indoor garden.

Melton, smiling brightly at the fragrant blooms, led the way.

“It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve been here. Wow, did they renovate or something? It looks really tidy.”

Melton admired the slightly changed interior, taking it all in.

Then, he spotted a man sitting on a bench and his eyes widened.

That blonde head… it’s unmistakable.

“Hey? You! What the hell are you doing here, you little brat from Shulafe?!”

As he approached with a fierce expression, Hershel flinched, his eyes wide with surprise.

Melton couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction.

‘What a fool. Without Professor Gomon around, he’s all on edge, huh?’

Melton grabbed Hershel by the collar and lifted him up.

But even as he was pulled along, Hershel’s gaze remained fixed elsewhere.

‘Wait, something’s off with this guy. Why does he look so dazed?’

Concerned by Hershel’s distraction in a moment that called for confrontation, Melton subtly turned his head to follow his gaze.

“What are you staring at…?”

What Hershel was fixated on was a middle-aged man, dressed in the lowly garb of the headquarters, standing before a statue in the corner.

Melton’s eyes met his.

At that moment, the middle-aged man’s mouth fell open in astonishment, as if he had seen something incredible, and he slowly blinked.