Episode 29: So This Is Romance Fantasy, Huh
Those who chose to leave the academy stepped through its gates. Those who decided to stay were also confirmed.
And whether out of vengeance, ambition, or some other motive, the students who chose to fight the enemy rather than remain in safety had been determined as well.
There were more of them than expected. Seniors, classmates, juniors—and even professors—had been lost.
With the culprits of this catastrophe still nearby, how could anyone with power simply stand by?
“Sorry, Bel. I wanted to go too, but our parents were against it, and the Church insisted I stay.”
“It’s fine. If you’d insisted on going, I probably would’ve tried to stop you.”
Lumine was an ability user of the Radiance type—one who controlled pure light.
Of course the Church would want to keep her close. Someone with her ability would be useful to them in many ways.
It made sense that they’d stop her from leaving at any cost.
“Wait, even our parents were against it?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not exactly a fighter. If it were a support role, maybe…”
“They didn’t say a word to me, though.”
It wasn’t as if they had different fathers or mothers.
And Abel wasn’t a runaway or estranged from the family either—so why hadn’t he heard anything?
When he pointed that out, Lumine just gave him a look of disbelief.
“Abel.”
“Yes, sister.”
“If our parents had tried to stop you, would you have listened?”
“…Probably not?”
“Exactly. They figured, just like when you were little, you’d run off anyway. So instead of trying to stop you, they just said nothing and wished you well.”
Hmm. She had a point—so accurate he couldn’t argue.
Now that he thought about it, he’d always been that way as a kid.
Everyone would tell him not to do something dangerous, and he’d do it anyway.
In his mind, it always seemed doable. If he thought there was a chance he could survive, backing out just felt like a waste on many fronts.
“It won’t be easy, Bel. I know how hard you work, how much patience you have. But a fight between ability users is a whole different kind of danger.”
“I already fought that man, Julien. So I’ve got a sense of it now.”
“…Right. I forgot you already went through that. Geez, what am I even saying to someone who took on the strongest enemy and survived?”
As she gently ruffled Abel’s hair, Lumine’s voice turned mock-stern.
“Still, be careful. If you come back seriously injured again, I might stop taking your side.”
“Uh… well, getting hurt is kind of unavoidable. Could you maybe look the other way if it’s just a broken bone or two? As long as I make it back in one piece, we can fix the rest.”
“This is why Mom and Dad worry about you and then give up, Bel…”
He talked about pain like it meant nothing—even though he clearly felt it.
Lumine figured that part of him would probably never change, no matter how many years passed.
He was her little brother, sure, but sometimes she really didn’t understand him.
After saying goodbye to Lumine, Abel returned to his lodging for final preparations.
Thankfully, the extremist supremacists hadn’t reached this area.
If he’d lost even a place to rest, things would’ve been much more difficult—even for him.
There were three days left until the full counterattack.
The Empire’s intelligence service was going all out to track the enemy down.
And when those three days were up, the academy’s ability users—burning with rage—would strike back.
This time, it didn’t matter where you came from or what your status was.
The only thing that mattered was this: hit the ones who hit us, and hit back harder.
***
The next day, when Abel went to the training ground as usual, he stumbled onto an unexpected scene.
“I’m telling you, it makes sense for me to be her trainer! I’m also in the fire-element class!”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Sure, the element’s the same, but the way you use it is completely different. Look at her technique—it spreads, then focuses, then spreads again. That’s way closer to our water-element style than you’re arsonist nonsense.”
Abel was about to ask Caligo what was going on—
But then realized Caligo was right in the middle of the argument himself.
“Now, now. Let’s not fight. Why not just let me train Lady Seria? Then neither of you needs to argue, and she gets the best instruction.”
“Your Highness, please stop talking nonsense.”
“If you were a prince from our kingdom, I’d have challenged you to a duel by now.”
What the hell are they doing?
Abel blinked in disbelief—until someone quietly approached him.
It was Rel Karhan, son of the Southern Republic’s Prime Minister.
Normally, someone like him would be in the thick of that argument.
“They’re fighting over who gets to train Lady Seria.”
“…And you’re not throwing your hat in the ring?”
“My combat style’s totally different. If anything, I’m more similar to you.”
In short: there was no angle for him to claim any “mentorship,” so he bowed out early.
Or maybe—not quite. Maybe he decided it was better to build a connection with Abel instead.
Everyone in that group clearly thought there was something between him and Seria.
“I heard the Empire is tracking them down with everything they’ve got.”
“Same here. After causing that much chaos, it’d be insane for them to just stroll back to their hideout like nothing happened.”
“So, we’ve got a bit of breathing room. What do you say—want to spar?”
“You mean, with you?”
If it were the old Abel, he would’ve said yes without a second thought.
But things were different now.
Rel, like the other three male students, was a character in this romance fantasy genre.
“He can’t train Seria himself, so now he’s trying to subtly show off his strength through me, isn’t he? Sounds exactly like something a romance fantasy male lead would do.”
He’d been glancing at Seria since earlier, which only made him look more suspicious.
Still, it was hard to flatly say “No, thanks,” because this guy in front of him was a body mutation ability user. It wasn’t a common power, and Abel was tempted by the chance to gain experience against it.
Now then. What to do? Should he just grit his teeth and go along with it once? Or should he flatly refuse?
If he chose the first, he could at least quench his thirst for experience.
The problem was that the other three guys already bickering over there might also try to use him the same way Rel was attempting to — as a stepping stone.
On the other hand, if he chose the latter, he could avoid that hassle — but he’d lose a rare chance to fight a mutation user.
If only this wasn’t some damn romance fantasy.
Then he wouldn’t even need to think twice. Abel smacked his lips in frustration.
He’d seen enough to know — to these guys, the most important thing in life was getting the heroine’s attention.
They’d stake their very lives on it.
The fact that they’d switched from planning to return home, to now volunteering to fight, was clear proof.
‘…Wait a second. Why am I even debating this?’
Abel snapped his fingers.
Right. Why was he making this dumb decision so hard?
He just needed to win.
He could still gain experience, and he could also make it painfully clear that the only thing these guys would get from fighting him was a humiliating loss.
Look at them. They were already too busy keeping each other in check, subtly undermining one another.
And a loss? That was the perfect weakness to exploit.
Even if Seria didn’t care at all, among guys, the “I beat you / you beat me” thing was practically sacred. Sometimes even more important than their own lives.
“Alright. I’ve got time, and I need to stay in top condition anyway. A good spar will help.”
“Thank you, Abel.”
“But I’ll be keeping strict score. No pulling punches or letting things slide.”
It was a clear message: I won’t go easy on you, so think carefully while you still can.
Rel, the son of the Southern Republic’s Prime Minister, wasn’t dumb — there was no way he didn’t catch the nuance.
“…Understood.”
Still, even now — because of his cursed role as a “romance fantasy male lead” — Abel clicked his tongue repeatedly as he watched Rel sneak glances at Seria and call for a spar.
***
A short while later, Rel admitted defeat and quietly stepped back.
Of course, the process had been anything but quiet.
At first, Rel pressured Abel hard — swinging arms hardened like steel to push him back.
Body enhancement strengthened the whole body.
In contrast, body mutation changed only specific parts.
In terms of area, enhancement had the advantage, but in terms of focused strength or specialization, mutation far outclassed it.
In Rel’s case, even when Abel used both enhancement and his sword skills, he couldn’t so much as scratch Rel’s mutated arms.
It was like Rel had two indestructible weapons: shields or clubs, depending on how he used them.
But when it came to actual combat sense, Abel was clearly superior.
If your strength lies in your arms, then your weakness lies elsewhere — and he realized that instantly.
After cleverly targeting Rel’s legs, Abel took the decisive moment, grabbed him, and slammed him straight into the ground with sheer force.
“You’re too straightforward, Rel. Enemies won’t be that kind.”
“Khh….”
Rel, now flattened on the ground, felt a sting of unfairness.
It’s not like he lacked experience — he’d fought several supremacists before.
They’d also targeted his legs, and he’d defended himself just fine.
He thought this would be no different.
Even looking at Abel’s power and technique, he hadn’t felt like he was going up against someone overwhelmingly stronger than those enemies.
But there was one key difference.
‘…Does that man not fear injury or pain?’
“Offer your flesh to take their bone” — easier said than done.
No one truly knows how hard that is unless they’ve done it.
Humans simply cannot ignore pain.
Once your body feels it, it remembers. You flinch reflexively — not from cowardice, but because the body tries to protect itself.
It’s a survival instinct.
But that man — he completely rejected that instinct.
He just charged in head-on, no matter what.