Morning. When I woke up, Lili was already awake.

Most mornings, she’s up before me. It’s probably because adults need less sleep than children, or because teachers have more to prepare than students. But more than that, it seems to be her lifestyle.

I have an idea why.

Back when she was with Blythe’s group, there were no other women around, so she ended up doing all the cooking and laundry. Maybe she never grew out of that habit.

By the way, Blythe never ordered her to do those things. It was just her way of securing a place for herself. She started doing it on her own. That girl.

That’s why, no matter how many times she messed up cooking, cleaning, or laundry, I never stopped her. I never intended to let her just be a guest. I wanted her to be accepted into the group. To make this place her home.

At first, her cooking was pretty bad, but after a few months, it became decent. A few months after that, she started considering nutritional balance. And by the time a year had passed, she was adjusting dishes to suit each of our individual tastes.

She’s probably the type to get really absorbed in things. Thinks things through, then acts. That’s how she got strong just a few years after picking up the sword.

Compared to the breakfasts we used to eat back then, the ones we have lately feel so bland.

Lili had arranged some bread she bought from the school cafeteria the night before on a plate when she spoke to me as I was stretching.

“Eremia.”

“Hm?”

“About last night…”

“Wha…what…?”

My throat tightened before I even spoke.

Don’t remind me.

After what happened, the training grounds were closed, so I spent the night running laps around the school. When I peeked into the courtyard, I saw someone swinging a wooden sword with single-minded intensity. It was Oujin.

He was probably trying to clear his head after the whole love letter thing. Not that he had anything to clear in the first place. Damn uptight, straight-laced bastard.

“Do you remember? I asked if you got a new gladius.”

“Oh, that.”

I let out a breath.

“That? What else?”

“Nothing.”

Stretch. Stretch. Gotta loosen up my tendons.

I could feel Lili’s gaze on my back.

“……How indecent.”

“It’s not indecent! And what’s with that smug grin?!”

Looks like I was the only one bothered by it. Ridiculous.

“Now that you mention it, yeah, I did say something like that. I did get a new one. But I don’t use a stiletto anymore.”

“Really? Keeping a backup weapon isn’t a bad idea. All weapons break eventually.”

“I just switched to something else.”

I pointed to the short sword propped up on the sword rack.

“Yatsuzaki? No, wait. Kushizashi? No, Sukiyaki?”

“…A wakizashi.”

She looked exasperated.

“That’s the one. I asked for advice, and Oujin recommended it. Apparently, it can even cut through stone. Not as deep as a longsword, though.”

“Cut through stone?”

“It’s a technique from Oujin’s school, the Karaburi Ittō-ryū style. I stole that technique to cut off a homunculus’s arm. The gladius couldn’t even scratch it.”

Lili furrowed her brows as she looked at me.

“What?”

“Nothing. You just sounded like Blythe again.”

I froze.

But I didn’t let it show.

“Now that you mention it, Blythe’s swordsmanship was a mix of various styles. Almost like his own, really.”

“Not just styles. He learned from beasts and monsters, too. Once, when his weapon broke in a fight with a monster, he was almost eaten—so he bit through its neck instead. He laughed so hard about it.”

She chuckled. “Honestly, which of them was the real monster?”

That’s… savage. I don’t remember that at all…

“So, what about the new weapon?”

“Oh, right. I’ll be announcing it to the whole class during homeroom, but the Dungeon Curriculum is being reinstated.”

“—!”

That’s something to look forward to.

“And regarding the upcoming curriculum…”

“Wait. Is it okay to tell me first?”

“Yes. That’s not a big issue. But there’s a bigger problem—”

Spreading my legs apart, I lowered my chest to the ground and nodded.

“The faculty meeting decided that, aside from homunculi, instructors—including myself—will no longer handle dangerous monsters.”

“So, the pre-scouting system, where instructors took care of major threats in advance, is gone?”

Lili nodded.

“Yes. They said that learning to recognize when to retreat from dangerous monsters is an important skill. Also, they suggested that advanced division Class 1 handle preliminary scouting instead.”

Her face looked grim.

Looks like the decision went against what she wanted. Honestly, I don’t agree with it either. It’s something that should happen eventually, but it’s way too soon.

“Did our fight against the homunculus backfire on us?”

“Yeah.”

advanced division students will be handling dangerous monsters, while Intermediate and elementary schoolers train against instructor-controlled golems. That’s the plan. And Class 1 will be on the front lines.

I don’t mind… but for anyone outside our squad, this is a life-or-death issue.

“Depending on the lurking monsters, people could die.”

“Yes.”

Most of our classmates only fought goblins. Those weaklings don’t even require knights—hunters can handle them. Even knowledgeable civilians can take them down.

“What happens to the ownership of discoveries?”

“The knights confiscate anything dangerous or new. But anything else can be used freely within the school. Some of the precious metals will go to school operations.”

“So that’s why they approved it.”

Many instructors are from the Knight Order. If they led the expedition, all treasure would go to the knights. But students aren’t knights yet.

In other words, letting students do it benefits the school.

“Money over lives. How foolish.”

“Really.”

Finishing my stretches, I sat at the table with Lili. Seeing me settle in, she reached for the bread. No prayers, like many instructors would say before meals.

Another thing she picked up from Blythe.

I don’t thank gods. I only thank the lives that became my food.

“We’ll figure something out. I’ll talk to Void and the others. Our squad will cover for the whole class. That’s why you told me first, right? You couldn’t let the others hear it.”

“You caught on quick.”

Of course. We’ve been together for years.

Lili smiled.

“Normally, this isn’t something you should ask a ten-year-old to handle. But it’s better than just praying and waiting.”

“Sorry I’m so unreliable.”

As if gods provide our daily bread. Our food came from lives that were taken, and from our own actions.

Gods don’t save anyone. Not even the devout.

On the battlefield, I saw countless people praying not to die—only to die anyway.

So if you have time to put your hands together in prayer, use them to grip your sword instead.

“You’re far more reliable than a god.”

“Don’t compare me to them. They do nothing.”

“Hehe, you sound just like him again.”

That’s why the only time I pray is when there’s nothing else I can do. Like wishing for some unavoidable happiness to come to a foolish disciple choosing a tragic path.

Even knowing it’s nothing more than a delusion.