The Hero—Weiss Brightness—was an exceedingly ordinary and unremarkable boy.

"Just a bit more... If I could, maybe three more hours..."

"How long are you planning to sleep? Isn’t it bad for your health at this point?"

He wasn’t a morning person, had an unexpected fondness for food, and was average in academics. His swordsmanship left much to be desired, and there was no sign yet of awakening his signature ability, the Eighth Lineage Magic, Primal Magic.

---What’s with this overly relaxed creature???

The hero I had seen and heard about in my first life and the hero now were so utterly different that they seemed like entirely separate people—or rather, they were different people.

Still, if you asked me whether this was a bad thing, I’d say it wasn’t a problem at all. On the contrary, I even felt a certain affinity for him. In my first life, my impression of him was of an absolutely perfect, unbeatable force. Thinking that even he was just a regular kid until a year or two ago somehow gave me comfort.

At the same time, it was terrifying. A boy who had been so ordinary just one or two years ago had entered the academy, gained strength, and risen to prominence. Thinking back on it now, the sheer abnormality of that was almost overwhelming. What trials await him from here on out? What trials did he overcome to reach such a state in my first life?

Honestly, I was extremely curious. Perhaps somewhere in the life he’s led so far, there’s a clue to slaying a dragon. Once I realized this, sharing a room with the hero no longer seemed like a bad thing—in fact, it felt like an opportunity to get to know him better.

Though our academy life had only just begun, after about three days, Weiss and I got along well. I, perhaps because of the trauma from my first life, cherished peace above all else. Meanwhile, the hero, who seemed quiet and averse to conflict, shared similar thoughts.

"There are so many scary people in my class. They glare at you intensely just for making eye contact... I really hate it."

"I know what you mean. My class also has a lot of hotheaded guys. I got glared at a lot on the first day."

"Really, Claym?"

"Yeah. It was seriously depressing..."

"I totally get it... It’s like there’s this constant unease in the air."

"Exactly."

We often shared updates about our respective situations and encouraged each other, so much so that it felt like we’d been friends for years.

To be honest, I had grown quite fond of this current version of the hero.

After school, since the term had just begun, classes were still focused on the basics. Even the classes taught by Professor Volt, who had been a source of trauma in my first life, were so far presenting a façade of normalcy.

---I wonder when that mask will slip...

It’s inevitable that we’ll experience hell sooner or later. I’d rather not think about it.

"Sigh..."

With that in mind, I got through another day, quickly leaving the classroom. The past few days had made it painfully clear that nothing good happened when I lingered there. A swift retreat was always the best option.

"Thanks for today, Mr. Claym!"

"Good work today!"

"Yeah, good job."

As in the morning, I was greeted with overly loud goodbyes from Gaian and his friends. While I didn’t mind being greeted—it’s an important part of communication, and their energy was commendable—it was just...

"Could you maybe tone it down next time???"

"Yes!!"

They were far too enthusiastic.

---They must hate me, right?

I couldn’t see it any other way. I’d become so accustomed to the odd stares from other classmates, prompted by their loud greetings, that it didn’t even faze me anymore. It was a sad kind of familiarity, one I’d prefer not to have.

"Sigh..."

Drained by Gaian and his friends’ persistent lack of subtlety, I turned to finally leave the classroom... only to find Freesia standing beside me as usual.

"What are you planning to do today?"

"..."

Her casual presence sent a small chill down my spine.

---When did she get there?

I hadn’t sensed her at all. Asking "Why are you here?" would only elicit a nonsensical response, so it wasn’t worth the trouble. I forced myself to answer calmly.

"Training."

There was somewhere I had wanted to visit, but apparently, it was closed for a few days due to construction.

---It was the main reason I came to this academy, but... oh well.

In that case, the only other option was training. As for studying... as long as I didn’t fail, I could ignore it.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Do as you please."

She’d follow me whether I agreed or not, so there wasn’t much point in her asking for permission... Lately, she’d been unusually quiet.

As we walked down the corridor toward the publicly accessible third training ground,

"Clay."

Someone called out to me again. So far, there was only one person at this academy who called me by that nickname.

"Greetings, Your Highness. Do you need something from me?"

It was none other than the prince. He sighed at my formal greeting. A very rude fellow.

"Sigh... Clay, you’re so stubborn. I’ve told you to be more relaxed around me."

"..."

As usual, Gravitell, who was standing beside him, nodded vehemently in agreement. But I couldn’t compromise on this. I didn’t plan to antagonize him, but I also had no intention of becoming overly familiar. Avoiding unnecessary interactions was best.

"Well, fine. You seemed in a hurry leaving the classroom. Do you have plans?"

"We’re going to train," Freesia answered.

"Oh, training! I’ve always been curious about the training that someone as strong as Clay does every day. Greyfrost, would you mind if we joined you?"

"I don’t mind."

Before I could say anything, the conversation was settled, and somehow, we were now a group.

---Why doesn’t anyone ask for my opinion?

I wanted to complain to the battle-maniac beside me, but there was no changing things now.

To be honest, I didn’t like the idea of walking through the academy with this group. They included a member of the royal family and the daughters of prestigious houses, all of whom were Lineage Magic users. It was impossible not to attract attention. While my own reputation hadn’t improved, I’d grown used to being the target of disdain.

---I just hope the training ground isn’t crowded.

Emptying my mind, I focused solely on the thought of training. Somehow, that calmed me, though it also felt like a sign I was succumbing to this environment.

"Too late now..."

With a wry smile, I continued toward our destination. There were thirteen training grounds scattered across the academy, but only the third, sixth, and ninth were regularly open for use.

"It’s lively," the prince remarked.

"Indeed," I agreed.

The training grounds were crowded as expected. This academy prided itself on survival of the fittest, so it was no surprise that many students used their free time to train. But amidst the dedicated trainees, there was a group acting oddly.

"Come on, is that all you’ve got?"

"Ugh...!!"

"Stud, let us have a turn!"

"Fine, fine..."

The exchanges I overheard were childish and didn’t seem to qualify as training. It appeared a group was ganging up on a weaker student. Yet no one intervened.

"..."

Perhaps the aggressors were particularly strong, or maybe no one cared to help the weak. Either way, it was unpleasant to watch. Feeling inexplicably drawn to the scene, I observed more closely—and gasped.

"!!"

"P-please, stop—"

At the center of the bullying was none other than the hero.