Due to the accident—the dungeon collapse—our entire class was granted two days off from lessons.

The morning after the incident, I woke up past noon, still exhausted. Slipping out of Lili’s room, I made my way to the cafeteria, where I found the three members of my squad gathered at a table in the corner.

No other students were around. Not a single one. They were all likely attending afternoon classes.

Void noticed me and raised a hand.

“Yo, Eremia.”

I returned a small wave, ordered an A-lunch set at the counter, and carried my tray over to their table.

Miku moved a chair from another table and set it beside her, beckoning me over.

“Here, here.”

For reference, Void and Oujin were seated side by side. All three of them seemed to have already finished their meals. Their empty dishes were neatly stacked on trays, leaving only their drinks—coffee, tea, and some murky green liquid that looked like it had been scooped from an old reservoir.

Void had coffee, Miku had tea, and Oujin had the reservoir sludge. I hoped he wouldn’t end up with food poisoning.

Ignoring Miku’s invitation felt unnecessary, so I sat down next to her.

“Haa~i, El-tan!”

“Oh.”

“You sure you’re okay now?”

Void’s question came as I poked at my salad with a fork.

“I was never seriously hurt to begin with. I got blown away pretty hard, but I redirected the force, just like Oujin did.”

“Ehh~? But your eyeball ruptured, didn’t it? Can you see out of your right eye already?”

“Oh yeah, that happened. But yeah, I can see just fine now.”

I pointed at Void.

“Wild dog.”

Then at Miku.

“Stray cat.”

Then at Oujin.

“And some creature that enjoys drinking stagnant pond water.”

All three of them started complaining at me at the same time.

I just laughed and said, “I was joking.”

I took a piece of meat, wrapped it in salad, and twirled it around my fork. I’d only eaten in this cafeteria a handful of times, but the food was decent. Still, if I wanted to return this body to the level of strength I had as Blythe, the portion sizes here weren’t going to cut it. I had a long road ahead.

Oujin took a sip of his reservoir sludge—something called “matcha”—and muttered,

“I see, so you consciously leaped back to avoid the blow. That’s a fundamental technique in the Empty Stroke style—not deflecting an attack with the blade, but redirecting it with your body. Smaller swordsmen like me, who aren’t blessed with raw strength, tend to specialize in it.”

True. If I were still Blythe, I wouldn’t have bothered dodging. I would’ve stopped the attack head-on and overpowered it. But in this ten-year-old body, that wasn’t an option.

“Makes sense.”

“It’s not something you can normally just pick up on the spot, though. But I guess I believe you, seeing as you managed to cut off that monster’s arm with Rock Cleave. Orunkaim told me all about it.”

“That only worked because Void immobilized it first. Like you said, I don’t think I could pull that off on a moving target. At least, not yet.”

Now that I thought about it, I understood why Oujin had needed a moment to prepare before using Rock Cleave. He had to assess his target and focus his energy. Were there people in his style who could use that technique without any wind-up? If so, half-baked swordplay wouldn’t stand a chance against them. They’d cut straight through your blade.

“Even so, that was impressive.”

Oh? He seemed to have a pretty high opinion of me. Being praised by a swordsman from another school was surprisingly gratifying. He was nothing like the knights of this country.

I chewed and swallowed my meat-wrapped salad.

“I’m still worn out, but I’m fine. You, though—you looked like a damn reanimated corpse yesterday.”

Oujin gave a wry smile.

“The medical instructor spent all night casting healing magic on me. That’s why I can eat now. Ilga was in the bed next to mine. He’s gonna take a little longer to recover.”

“I see. Well, as long as he’s out of danger, that’s what matters. —So, did you learn anything?”

Void and Oujin both turned their eyes toward Miku.

“Yup. That monster is called a Homunculus.”

“A Homun…?”

I had been about to take a bite of bread but stopped midway.

I’d never heard of such a creature before.

“Homunculus. A man-made human.”

“…A human? Made?”

Miku took a sip of her tea and stated matter-of-factly,

“A person not born from a mother’s womb, but created in a flask.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That kind of thing isn’t possible.”

“Well, maybe not in this country. But in the Egil Republic, it already is.”

Void, who had been leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head, grinned.

“And where’d you hear that?”

“What? You think I made it up?”

Their expressions remained calm, but their locked gazes carried an undercurrent of tension.

“Drop it, Void. You’re making my meal taste worse. Miku’s father, Lord Mald Orunkaim, is a margrave. He governs a city on the Republic’s border. It’s not surprising she’d be better informed about the front lines than those of us in the capital.”

“Ding ding, correct. Which means the instructors with military connections probably had their suspicions too. Especially Lili-tan.”

Damn you, Lili. You should’ve reported that to me.

…No, wait. That was impossible. I was just a ten-year-old student now, nothing more.