After Medley's class, I headed toward the school cafeteria with Nagi walking beside me.
She glanced at me with a mildly judgmental look.
"You know," she said, "you really don't make enough use of the cafeteria."
I snorted. "That's because this place is a walking temptation. The more money you have in your pocket, the less tasty the food back at home becomes."
Nagi tilted her head. "I don't think so."
I looked at her.
"Your cooking is superb," she continued without hesitation. "A little on the saltier side, yes, but since I'm from the Kingdom of Taiyo, where most of our dishes are savory, it hits right up my alley."
"…That might be the nicest thing anyone's ever said about my questionable seasoning habits."
Before she could reply, a small group of girls approached us. All of them were female, all of them clearly nervous, and all of them wearing the same expression, being half courage, half embarrassment.
"Um, Nagi?" one of them asked, cheeks red. "Same as usual?"
Nagi blinked once, then nodded charmingly. "Sure."
She turned to me. "You coming?"
I raised both hands politely. "I'll pass."
"All right," she said easily.
The girls practically lit up as they walked off with her, brimming with youthful energy and poorly concealed excitement.
I watched them go.
Those girls weren't from Class 1-A.
Probably from another class. And judging by how they were walking, leaning forward a little too much, laughing a little too loudly, synchronizing their steps like it was rehearsed, they were very clearly trying to act cute to grab Nagi's attention.
It was… impressive, actually.
Unfortunately for them, Nagi was completely oblivious.
Honestly, it was understandable. Nagi was, after all, a pretty boy.
Probably the prettiest boy on campus, second only to that narcissist.
If only they knew that the prettiest boy was also the prettiest girl.
...
A vision of future Azaleia flashed in my mind.
...
And another vision of that perverted headmaster, Eclair.
...
Well....
"Prettiest" might be subjective.
But at least to me, I guess she is.
I lined up to get some food.
The cafeteria was massive, stretching wider than a training hall. Rows upon rows of counters offered an absurd variety. Soups, grilled meats, baked dishes, desserts, things I couldn't even identify by sight alone. The smells alone were enough to make anyone hungry.
There was, however, a very clear divide.
Normal food, simple meals made from ordinary ingredients, was completely free.
Then there was the other food.
Dishes made from enchanted beasts and enchanted crops, still rich with residual thrum. According to the signs, they helped strengthen the body, improve recovery, and tasted far better than normal food.
That explained something.
I suddenly remembered why the fridge and pantry in our dorm were filled only with normal ingredients.
It wasn't because Excellia was generous.
It was because this stuff was considered low-class food.
I glanced at the price tag for one serving of enchanted crop salad.
50 SP.
"…Fifty!?"
I stared at it harder.
That grass better make me rank up one entire stat stage for that price.
I pulled out my phone and checked my student information.
_________________________________
Name: Matthew Pier Salinin
Rank: 6
Age: 17
Birthday: October 26
School Points: 39,000 SP
_________________________________
Right. I had used my points once to reserve the training grounds for myself for 1 day. That cost 1,000 SP.
So originally, I must've had 40,000.
I couldn't help but compare.
In the novel, Finster started at Rank 8 with 20,000 points. Then he stupidly bet ten thousand of them against Maku and lost.
Meaning he probably had only 10,000 left.
I looked back at the enchanted salad.
"50 SP per serving."
"So… my position as sixth-ranked student in this academy…"
I did some quick math.
"…is equivalent to eight hundred plates of salad?"
I stared at the salad.
The salad stared back.
I came to a very rational conclusion.
Normal food it is today.
Definitely not because I'm stingy with my SP, no, I'm just conservative....
Or at least, that's what I told myself.
"Hah..."
I released a defeated sigh.
Unfortunately, it seemed someone was determined to sink my mood even further.
"Oya~?" a voice chimed behind me. "Looks like someone's too broke to afford real food."
Another voice joined in, louder and far less subtle. "Hah! I guess even a high ranker can't even scrape together enough SP for a proper meal."
I turned around.
Two students stood there, both sporting the unmistakable blue hair common among Salem-born elites.
One of them was fat, his round face sagging into a generous double chin, pink highlights streaked through his hair. His uniform strained slightly around the waist, buttons clinging on for dear life.
Beside him was his opposite in every conceivable way.
The other student was skinny, painfully so. All elbows and sharp angles, with orange streaks running through his blue hair. He was tall but narrow, built like a walking ruler, the kind of person who looked like a strong breeze might knock him over.
They stood there with practiced arrogance, blocking just enough space to be annoying.
I blinked at them.
"…Do I know you?"
The fat one scoffed loudly, jowls wobbling. "Tch. Figures."
The skinny one clicked his tongue. "Unbelievable. A Rank Six who doesn't even know who he's talking to."
They exchanged looks, clearly expecting surprise. Awe. Maybe fear.
They got none.
I tilted my head, waiting. Nothing came to mind.
Their faces twisted in irritation.
"You're looking at the heir of the House-" the fat one started.
"Oh," I said, cutting him off as realization finally dawned. "Right. Nobodies."
That did it.
The skinny one hissed something under his breath, while the fat one puffed his chest out, launching into a string of muttered insults, peasant, freeloader, and more, none of which I felt particularly motivated to acknowledge.
I stopped listening.
Instead, I turned back toward the counter.
"Hey!" one of them snapped behind me. "We're not done talking!"
I waved a hand without looking, already reaching for a tray. I grabbed a plate of chicken tenders, which were golden, slightly greasy, and a bowl of vegetable soup that smelled far better than it had any right to.
As I walked away in search of a seat, I could still hear them behind me, voices rising in pitch as they continued grumbling and throwing insults into the air, as if they might somehow stick to my back.
"The flies sure are loud these days." I inwardly said as I rubbed my ear.
I was already hungry.
Honestly, normal food smelled fine anyway.
That was when I noticed Kenth.
He was sitting alone, eating quietly. Just him and his food.
Drakemont, huh. Surely these idiots wouldn't be stupid enough to bother someone sitting with one of those, right?
I walked over and sat down across from him.
"Hey," I said. "I'm Matthew, from the same class. You were sitting near the windows earlier, right? Nice to meet you."
Kenth didn't look up. He took another bite of his burger.
"…Kenth," he muttered around his food.
....
....
....
That was it?
"…Right. Nice talk."
Before I could say anything else, someone dropped into the seat beside me.
It was them again.
The fat one leaned in, grinning smugly, while the skinny one snickered like he'd just heard the funniest joke in his life.
I sighed. Slowly. Deeply.
I turned to the fat one. "Did you suck all the stupid out of your friend?"
The skinny one blinked.
"Is that why you look like an upside-down bowling pin?" I continued calmly.
The fat guy's face turned red.
I glanced at the skinny one. "No offense to you, pig, but I think your friend here could spare you a few calories. Might help you grow some muscle."
That did it.
They threw their food at me.
Sauce splattered across my uniform. Soup dripped down my sleeve.
I felt something snap. I wanted to skin these spoiled brats alive.
But before I could move, a shadow fell over the table.
"Enough."
The voice was calm. Sharp.
A blond-haired student stood there, impossibly handsome, his presence alone enough to silence the two idiots instantly. His gaze flicked to them, not angry but very chilling.
"Have you embarrassed yourselves sufficiently?"
Both of them shrank back.
Ah.
So they are his Underlings.
Kenth stood up without a word, grabbed his tray, and moved to the furthest table in the cafeteria.
The blond man watched him go, then looked back at me and smiled.
"So you're not actually affiliated with the Drakemonts," he said lightly. "Hiding behind them, are you? How disgraceful."
He tilted his head. "Which house were you born from?"
I smiled back. "The house of my mom, moron. Is there a problem?"
His smile vanished.
"So. A peasant."
He unbuttoned the first button of his coat and flicked it forward. It struck my forehead and fell to the table.
"My name is Lioren Agis Ocypete," he declared. "I demand a duel to reclaim the honor of my companions."
Across the cafeteria, Nagi finally noticed the commotion.
She froze when she saw me soaked in food, then immediately ran over, the girls following behind her. But the moment they recognized Lioren, they panicked.
"N-Nagi, wait—!"
They tried to grab her arms.
She flicked their hands away without slowing down.
Nagi reached me and pulled out a towel, wiping my face and uniform without hesitation.
"…Thanks," I muttered.
As she did, I thought.
My goal here wasn't to derail the story. It was to keep things aligned, save the people I cared about, and most importantly, prevent Finster's bad ending.
The answer was obvious. It's to turn down this nonsense charade.
I looked at Lioren. Then at the smug fat one. Then at the walking stick behind him.
I could feel a nerve just pop inside my cranium.
"I refuse."
"Oh?" the skinny one sneered. "Scared?"
"Quite the opposite, walking stickman."
"Pfft—walking stickman?" Nagi giggled.
I looked back at them.
"I refuse because it's too easy."
I pointed at all three of them.
"I want you to challenge me."
"All at once."