The sight that greeted me from this new bed felt remarkably familiar.
More precisely, it was the bed I had slept in every day during my four years at the Academy.
If I had to decide whether it was new or not, it would be closer to the opposite.
Still, I had not seen this bed for several years after graduating, which was more than enough to make it feel unfamiliar.
I had been somewhat exhausted yesterday, so I fell asleep as soon as I returned to the Academy.
I had wiped out the bandits stationed in the Barony of Ormund, then boarded a carriage before dawn and traveled through the night to the Highgarden Margraviate.
After reporting Baron Ormund to Margrave Highgarden, I passed through the Warp Gate leading to the imperial capital, then spent several more hours in a carriage returning to the Academy.
My memories of yesterday ended with me trudging across the vast Academy grounds, where private carriages were not allowed, returning to the Department of Magic dormitory, and roughly throwing myself onto the bed.
I could not say that I had completely recovered from the fatigue yet.
However, a single Second-Circle wind spell was enough to drive away this degree of drowsiness.
I pointed a finger toward my head and cast Refresh.
The inside of my head, which had felt stuffy as though it were filled with fog, cleared instantly.
My physical condition was now more than adequate for going about my daily life.
I immediately entered the bathroom and thoroughly washed away the fatigue and grime that had accumulated over the past two days.
Afterward, I changed into the Academy student uniform I had left behind in the dormitory.
There were still roughly two weeks remaining before the new term began.
However, the clothes I had been wearing needed to be washed anyway.
More importantly, the Academy had a rule stating that students had to wear their uniforms while inside the Academy grounds.
After making myself look the part of an Academy student, I attached the purple insignia proving my affiliation with the Department of Magic to my chest.
“Something feels a little empty.”
Come to think of it, I wasn’t wearing a cloak.
The cloak I had worn when leaving my hometown was already filthy with the bandits’ blood and dirt.
Even I thought walking around the Academy wearing it would be out of the question.
Going outside without a cloak felt somewhat bare, though.
Wondering whether I had anything that could replace it, I opened the dormitory wardrobe.
“Ah.”
Inside was a navy cloak that appeared rather expensive, neatly pressed and holding its shape.
It was the cloak Lulu had given me.
Lulu had attended the Academy with me and had also been one of the members of the Kardia Subjugation Party.
The moment I saw it again after so long, a sense of nostalgia welled up inside me.
Then I remembered that I had only worn it once in my previous life.
Before I knew it, my hands had already unfolded the neatly folded cloak and draped it over my shoulders.
I had come from a middling viscount’s family in a remote border region, so during my Academy years, I had lived miserably while constantly tightening my belt.
My habit of saving things other people had given me instead of using them was another one of my bad habits.
I had not worn this cloak even once while attending the Academy.
I only began using it after my original cloak had become so worn out that it could no longer be worn.
Unfortunately, the first monster I faced while wearing this cloak was a fire-attribute monster.
The cloak, which had been practically new, burned beyond use in a single day.
To make matters worse, Lulu had been participating in that battle with me.
I had finally worn the gift long after receiving it, only to burn it immediately.
I would have had no excuse even if I had been thoroughly cursed out for it.
That was especially true because Lulu had scrimped and saved to buy it for me despite being in difficult circumstances.
Since I had barely worn it in my previous life, I should wear it so often in this life that I grew sick of it.
“I suppose I should meet Stella first.”
One reason I had departed from the estate somewhat earlier than the Academy’s scheduled opening date was to eliminate the bandits in the Barony of Ormund.
Another was to meet Stella, the former captain of the Kardia Subjugation Party and the Hero, even one day sooner.
Although she had been corrupted by Demon God Kardia’s Demonic Sword at the final moment and ended up destroying the world with her own hands,
That could not diminish the achievements she had accomplished before defeating Demon God Kardia.
There had been many crises that could only have been overcome because Stella was there.
More importantly, before her corruption by the Demonic Sword, she had unquestionably been an outstanding person worthy of the title Hero of Hope.
It was already certain that we would need her strength in the process of destroying the Dark Cult.
Therefore, I first needed to rebuild my relationship with Stella, beginning with our days at the Academy.
My destination naturally became the Department of Swordsmanship dormitory.
I hoped Stella had already come to the imperial capital in time for her enrollment, just as I expected.
***
Back when I attended the Academy, there was one story I had heard as a rumor.
The rumor claimed that Professor McDowell Arwen’s daughter had been assaulted by a group of senior students from her department as soon as she entered the Academy.
Professor McDowell’s classes were notorious for being so grueling that even students from other departments knew about them.
It was not entirely impossible that the arrows of resentment would be directed toward his daughter, Stella Arwen.
Even so, there was a reason I had dismissed the story as a false rumor at the time.
The fact that none of the students accused of attacking a professor’s daughter had received any punishment made the rumor seem less credible.
The Academy might have been an institution governed by the order of strength, which was closer at hand than the law.
Even so, I could not imagine that the Academy would take no action after an unprovoked act of violence had been openly committed.
More importantly, I had personally witnessed Stella’s absurd resilience during the Hunting Festival in the first semester of our third year, when the two of us first became acquainted.
After seeing that, it became difficult to imagine someone of her ability meekly submitting to violence.
The incident might have occurred a year earlier, but Stella’s abilities had already been honed over many years by then.
Had Stella not bitterly confessed it herself, I might have continued believing that for the rest of my life.
“Ever since entering the Academy, I have found it difficult to trust other people. Fortunately, it seems there are also people like you, Mr. Conrad.”
Her self-deprecating words that followed made me realize that the story about the group assault had not been a false rumor.
The reason she had been targeted was indeed because she was Professor McDowell’s daughter.
The students responsible had not been punished because Stella had never reported the violence to the department.
She had not reported it because she was Professor McDowell’s adopted daughter rather than his biological child.
She had feared that causing trouble might harm her adoptive father, Professor McDowell.
As the matter fizzled out due to such an indecisive response, the violent incident Stella had suffered was simply forgotten.
I only knew Stella from her second year at the Academy onward.
However, she had personally admitted that she became much more wary of others after entering the Academy.
Several other injustices she experienced after that incident had probably caused her personality to grow progressively colder.
The form of peace Stella advocated after her corruption had likely been influenced by incidents like these as well.
That was why I hurried toward her.
In this life, I intended to become the first senior she met at the Academy so that she would not experience the same injustice.
However, it seemed that someone had already taken the position of the first Academy senior she would encounter this time as well.
“You’re that damned Professor McDowell’s daughter, huh?”
I found Stella in a dim back alley near the Department of Swordsmanship dormitory.
She was surrounded by students from the Department of Swordsmanship who appeared to be either second- or fourth-year students.
Judging from the situation, I immediately realized that I was witnessing the group assault I had heard about in my previous life.
Should I call this good timing?
Or should I call it terrible timing?
It was such an uncannily perfect coincidence that it could almost be called a trick of fate.
“That is correct.”
The incoming freshman surrounded by senior students answered with a steady gaze.
Her tied-back blond hair fell all the way down her back.
Her blue eyes appeared gentle.
She even wore the full plate armor that had practically become her trademark.
I had seen her like this every day for several years in my previous life.
There was no way I would fail to recognize her merely because she was a little younger.
“May I ask why you called me here, Seniors?”
Even though five or six senior students surrounded her, her unwavering eyes remained steady.
She might have been adopted, but her spirit was unmistakably the spitting image of Professor McDowell.
“Haah. You really are that professor’s daughter. Even the way you talk is insolent.”
“Pardon?”
“I said I don’t like that disrespectful way you talk. How dare you glare so boldly in front of your seniors?”
One member of the group continued interrogating Stella as she stared back with an expression showing that she had no idea what he meant.
“Your father’s a professor in the Academy’s Department of Swordsmanship, isn’t he?”
“That is correct.”
“Then why do you think we called you here, huh?”
“......I apologize, but I do not know.”
“Hah. You’re seriously dense!”
A fourth-year student from the Department of Swordsmanship cornered Stella against the wall and slammed his palm against it.
The blond young noblewoman flinched slightly at his sudden action.
“You should be apologizing right away because your father gives us such shitty grades, you brat!”
“..........”
Perhaps she found the demand too absurd to believe, especially since it was the first thing they said upon meeting the daughter of a professor from their own department.
Stella tilted her head with a bewildered expression.
“Why would that be a reason for me to apologize?”
“......What?”
“The Academy classes taught by my master......my father are matters under his authority. I do not understand why I should apologize to you for them.”
“You dare talk back to your senior......”
“Moreover, if you failed to receive proper grades, was that not the result of your academic performance being insufficient? Why should I apologize to you for that?”
“..........”
The fourth-year student’s expression stiffened at the perfectly reasonable argument that came from her mouth.
“You insolent bitch......”
The hand he had pressed against the wall slowly curled into a fist.
“Looks like this damned bitch needs a beating before she’ll come to her senses.”
“If you attempt to inflict unjust violence upon me for such an absurd reason, I will not remain still without resisting....”
“Go ahead and try. I’m sure wonderful rumors will spread if an Academy professor’s daughter starts throwing punches before she’s even enrolled, right?”
“..........”
Stella’s hand reached the hilt of the sword at her waist, wavering as she hesitated over whether to draw it.
Knowing her personality, I had always found it strange that she had not resisted the unjust violence in my previous life.
It seemed this threat had been perfectly chosen to make Stella, an incoming Academy freshman, hesitate.
“Now that I look at you, you don’t seem to resemble that damned old man McDowell in the slightest......”
The thug even began bringing up Stella’s greatest insecurity.
I had already watched enough.
It was time to intervene and rescue her.
I could not allow Stella to suffer from unjust violence and distrust of others just as she had in my previous life.
“So you’re not even his real daughter? Did he pick you up from under some bridge—GURGH?!”
The Mana Bullet fired from the end of my staff struck the side of the back of the bastard’s head as he spoke.
I had carefully aimed the attack before firing it.
He probably would not be getting back up for a while.
“W-What the hell?”
“Which bastard did that?!”
The group, startled by the Mana Bullet that had suddenly flown toward them, began looking around.
“The guy in the navy cloak over there! It’s him!”
One of them pointed a finger at me, drawing every gaze in my direction.
“Who the hell are you?!”
“Judging by that pathetic look, are you some prissy bastard from the Department of Magic?”
“Who are you to interfere in the Department of Swordsmanship’s business?”
They had already forgotten about Stella, who had been their original target.
An ominous atmosphere heralding the beginning of a fight began to settle between us.