Magica Academy was the most prestigious educational institution on the continent.
For that reason, its inspiration had also been taken from the systems of real-world schools that only the most outstanding students could enter.
Under the academy’s system, students were given a grace period during their first year to sample all sorts of foundational subjects, and the moment they became second-years, they had to choose a major.
Naturally, the pinnacle of this academy was the Department of Magic.
The academy’s full support, a guaranteed road to power after graduation, and even the chosen-people mentality of standing at the center of the world.
But to someone like me, that place was a sanctuary whose entrance was not even permitted.
It was true that Lowell had worked hard before I possessed him, but there was no way someone like me, who had not a single shred of innate mana, could enter the Department of Magic.
That meant I had to choose another department, but for Lowell, who had studied solely to enter the Department of Magic, it was already a little too late to pick something else.
Of course, even that was barely possible, since Lowell had let go of his studies after being informed in the previous semester that he could not enter the Department of Magic, leaving his grades hanging by a thread. Still, there was one place he could enter.
Right now, it was an unpopular department among unpopular departments, stuck in a room converted from a storage room and reeking of mold, but I had seen it dozens of times while playing the game.
The brilliant future in the middle of the scenario, when the mana depletion crisis broke out and efficient elemental utilization overturned the existing magic system, rapidly rising as a mainstream field of study.
My plan had no gaps.
I would secure a place in advance while everyone else looked down on it, use my future knowledge, and claim the unshakable top seat in the Department of Elemental Studies.
With the scholarships that poured in from there, I intended to cover my academy tuition, and after graduation, use a professor’s recommendation letter as a stepping stone to guarantee a peaceful retirement.
Celestia.
If things followed the original story, she should have reigned as the top student of the Department of Magic, receiving fear and reverence in equal measure. So why on earth had she said she wanted to apply to the same department as me?
But putting that aside, I looked at Professor Glayton, who was trembling before my eyes as she wiped away tears with a handkerchief.
To her, Celestia must have been an angel descended from heaven to save a department on the verge of being shut down, but from my perspective, she was nothing short of a calamity that had come to smash my peaceful rice bowl to pieces.
If a genius mage came to the Department of Elemental Studies, how was a mana-incapable person who was only well-versed in theory supposed to take the top seat?
Still, it was not as though being second would be a problem, so that was something I could think about slowly.
“Um, Professor. Please calm down a little…”
Separate from that, however, Professor Glayton did not seem to hear my call.
She was already swimming in ecstasy, lost in fantasies of the increased departmental budget that a heavyweight student like Celestia would bring, a proper laboratory, and the looks on the faces of the other professors who had looked down on her.
“Professor, there is something I would like to ask of you.”
At Lowell’s voice, Professor Glayton finally managed to focus.
Tears of emotion still clung to the corners of her eyes, and shards of a broken teacup were scattered at her feet, but to her, such things were already trivial matters.
“Ah, Lowell! I’m sorry, I got too excited, didn’t I? But Student Celestia… This is truly a miracle! Our department—no, this Glayton—has finally seen the light!”
With a flushed face, like a child who had obtained the whole world, she suddenly clasped my hands.
“Lowell, you are the good-luck charm of our department. Did you persuade Student Celestia? Ah… thank you so much. What should I do for you? Just say the word, anything at all!”
This was the chance.
“Could you grant me one request, Professor?”
“A request? Oh, of course! Tell me anything! Once the budget comes in, I’ll prepare a personal laboratory for you first, Lowell. Or should I write you a recommendation for a special scholarship?”
Glayton looked as though she would truly offer up even her liver.
In truth, Professor Glayton had already thought, the moment she heard Lowell’s speech, that the destined master-disciple relationship that would last a lifetime had finally come to her as well.
“Anything?”
“…?”
In that instant, Professor Glayton’s expression stiffened.
A brief wariness flashed through the eyes that had been drenched in joy just a moment ago.
Her lips, which had boldly shouted for me to say anything, trembled faintly.
“L-Lowell…? Why are you smiling like that? You’re not about to ask me to do something terribly difficult, are you?”
She tried to slowly pull away the hands she had clasped, but if something was given, something ought to be returned.
“There is something I absolutely need your help with, Professor.”
###
The place Lowell headed was near Saint Harbor, located on the eastern edge of Asteria Island, the exact opposite side from the main campus in the west.
The Magica Academy Knight Department campus.
Unlike the main campus, which occupied most of the island and displayed the prestige of the Department of Magic, this place was ruled by rough sea winds and the ceaseless clang of metal.
If the Department of Magic was a symbol of quiet inquiry and nobility, the Knight Department was a symbol of real combat, sweat, and inevitable noise.
There was also the geographical requirement that it be close to the harbor due to frequent overseas training, but more than anything, it was a separate campus deliberately isolated by the academy to protect the sensitive eardrums of mages.
Instead of soaring spires, low and sturdy fortress-like buildings stood in rows, and the air was mixed with the salty smell of the sea and rough shouts of exertion.
Lowell von Adrian.
When he, the problem child of the main campus and a magic-incapable student, appeared here, the gazes of the knight candidates in training began to fix on him one by one.
The clean, white uniform of the main campus stood out awkwardly amid the rough dust and smell of sweat here.
But Lowell paid no attention to their stares and quickened his pace.
There was one reason Lowell had gone out of his way to come all the way to this distant place.
Earlier, Celestia had requested a conversation with Lowell and made a shocking declaration.
She had said that she would enter the department Lowell intended to go to, and added one request.
It was to help her friend and the second-ranked student of the entire year, Chloe Jellin, come out of her room.
As Lowell made his way toward the dormitory building, breaking through the stinging gazes of the knight candidates filling the training grounds, he recalled the conversation he had just had with Celestia.
“If that’s the issue, shouldn’t the professors, Chloe’s parents… or people who are much closer to her than I am be the ones to solve it?”
At my extremely reasonable question, Celestia weakly shook her head.
“We’ve already tried everything. The professors, her parents… even the most renowned counselors at the academy all stood in front of that door, but it was no use. Chloe isn’t ready to talk to anyone right now. Not even me.”
Celestia’s voice was steeped in deep self-reproach.
And for good reason. The cause that had made a person named Chloe shut herself inside her room was Celestia herself.
But she was asking me to open a door that even her closest friend and the top student of the year could not open?
How was I, who had no mana, and who barely even had any connection with Chloe, supposed to drag her outside?
Looking at Celestia’s despairing expression, Lowell scratched the back of his head.
If he were to be coldly rational about it, refusing was the right choice.
But I had seen it dozens of times while playing the game.
What Chloe Jellin meant to Celestia in the original story.
She was Celestia’s only understanding confidante, and even when Celestia ran wild and fell into becoming the boss of Act One, Chloe was the only friend who tried to remain by her side until the very end.
The image of Chloe, dying at the end of bloodstained ruins while praying for Celestia’s salvation rather than her own safety, flashed through my mind.
In the original story, the two had been that devoted to each other, and yet now they were in a situation where they could not even exchange words.
Even if the world had changed greatly from what I knew, it seemed the fundamental bonds between characters had not.
Seeing Celestia beg so desperately, it was clear that if I did not help Chloe here, the future developments would become even more hopelessly tangled.
Above all, bringing the shut-in Chloe out of her room was already the same as the original story.
The only problem was that the timing was far too early.
“Haa…”
In the end, a short sigh slipped out of my mouth.
A faint glimmer of expectation appeared in Celestia’s eyes.
“Fine. I’ll try for now.”
“…Really, Lowell? You’ll really help?”
“I said I’ll try. It’s not like I have some brilliant plan either, so don’t expect too much.”
At my answer, Celestia’s complexion visibly brightened.
But in proportion to that, my shoulders grew heavy.
Dragging out a second-ranked shut-in whom even Celestia, the academy’s top student, and seasoned professors had given up on.
I could not be certain whether game knowledge alone would solve it.
For some reason, both Celestia and Chloe were people I was supposed to meet much later in the original story, yet I was seeing them far too early. This was a development I had never experienced before.
Lowell stood before a dormitory building in the most secluded corner of the Knight Department campus, where an especially deep silence had settled.
The chilly air emanating from beyond the firmly shut door hinted at the condition of the person staying inside.
To be honest, I had no method for getting Chloe out of her room.
No, in the first place, there was probably no one in this academy right now who could do that.
The difference in ability between Celestia and Chloe was no more than a single sheet of paper.
Of course, if someone skipped classes for more than a certain period or showed an excessively poor attitude, they could end up having difficulties living at the academy, just like Lowell now.
But unlike Lowell, who had no talent and had caused all sorts of trouble, would they really give up so easily on one of the academy’s most outstanding students like Chloe?
In the end, this was a problem Chloe herself had to overcome, and in the original flow, the protagonist gradually won Chloe’s heart over time.
But that was a story that applied only to a protagonist with talent, skill, and a face that automatically made things plausible. I had no talent, no skill, and no face that automatically established plausibility.
However, I knew that when it came to drawing out a genius shut away in a world of her own, a sharp stimulus was far more effective than gentle consolation.
There was only one method a problem child of the academy could use to bring out a shut-in model student.
“Chloe Jellin. I challenge you to a duel.”