Chapter 54

In the past, I used to feel a vague sense of disappointment whenever I wasn’t equipped with armor, but now that I actually go without it, I’ve realized it has its perks.

For starters, armor is a pain to put on and take off. It has zero breathability, so it gets stuffy, and it’s incredibly heavy—putting a massive strain on your shoulders, lower back, and knees. If you try to run, the weight and the restricted range of motion just drain your stamina even faster.

But more than anything…

“Thinking about it calmly, marching through the snow in full plate armor would be absolute madness.”

“Oh, definitely! Winter mountains are basically the realm of death! I once accompanied Chef Tamae on a climb up a mountain on the mainland, and it was a nightmare. My fingers got stuck to the cooking pot and wouldn’t come off!! I thought my skin was going to peel right off!”

While listening to the helpful (and terrifying) anecdotes of the Cooking Squad’s Vice-Captain regarding the horrors of winter mountains, the younger crowd of the knight order was loitering in Nonoka-san’s mobile lab as usual. Everyone held a steaming, fluffy buttered potato, brought in by Nonoka-san and prepared by the Vice-Captain.

“Yikes… that’s a real ‘don’t take your gloves off’ kind of story,” Caliban said, his face twitching.

“Well, in the snowy mountains, removing your gloves is a suicidal act anyway,” Calme, seasoned in hunting, added with a wry smile. He blew on his potato to cool it down before taking a modest bite. I took a bite of mine as well; it was perfectly fluffy, and the simple pairing with butter was outstanding. It’s not a common way to eat them in the Kingdom, but that’s the expertise of the Cooking Squad’s Vice-Captain for you.

The Vice-Captain is a woman in her late twenties with a slightly plump build and a wonderfully energetic voice. If I recall, her real name was… Susie, right? Everyone just calls her “Vice-Captain,” so it takes a moment to remember her actual name.

She apprenticed under Chef Tamae at a young age, so she isn’t just “positive”—she’s someone who lives within a sense of “it’ll be fine” backed by raw experience. Man, she’s more reliable than most knights.

Now, the reason we were all gathered to talk about this was, of course, because our next mission was set near the winter mountains. Since there’s a possibility of climbing, and few members of the order have set foot in heavy snow zones, this information was precious.

“Still, a mysterious monster in the snowy peaks, huh? Bigfoot, a Werewolf… or maybe a Jack Frost?”

“Statistically, it’s likely something like a Bigfoot… but those are inland monsters, so I can’t quite wrap my head around why one would be in the Kingdom,” Nonoka-san said, resting her chin on her hand with a troubled expression. Caliban had listed off several cold-climate creatures, but she seemed skeptical.

The objective of this mission was an emergency investigation into a “potential monster” sighted in the winter mountains.

For the order, this is effectively the first high-probability “Foreign Hazardous Species” that isn’t an Orc. Since Orcs are weak to cold and generally avoid snowy regions, the chances of the sighted creature being an Orc are low.

Apparently, the damage began appearing gradually at the start of winter. Carcasses of hibernating wildlife were found at the scene, along with destroyed buildings and broken animal traps. Local residents who initially thought it was a bear eventually changed their minds as things got weirder.

Then, just about a week ago, someone living on the outskirts of a nearby town witnessed the definitive moment.

“According to the data, it stood roughly three meters tall. A bipedal beast covered head-to-toe in pure white fur. Fortunately, there haven’t been any human casualties yet, but if a monster that stays active even in the relatively ‘easy’ winter has landed in this country, we’re in trouble.”

“Even veterans find mid-winter mountains dangerous,” I noted. “It’s already life-threatening; having the location be a mountain is just the worst.”

“Everything depends on the true identity of this Unidentified Lifeform,” Caliban added. “If it’s just a lone stray that drifted in from somewhere, fine. But if it forms a pack, or worse, if a hybrid is born… we’ll be in for it.”

“If it can move outside the snowy mountains and interbreed with Orcs…! Ugh, I don’t even want to imagine it…”

That was the biggest concern. If a troublesome enemy is born with troublesome traits, the sheer expansion of their active period and range—rather than just individual strength—is no joke. If expeditions into the frozen Northern regions become frequent during a season where even the knight order hesitates to act, we’ll be dealing with chilblains, frostbite, and in the worst-case scenario, deaths from exposure or missing persons.

Plus, the thought of more useless variations of those squashed-in, ugly pig faces is just nauseating. Even Nonoka-san, usually an expert on Orc facial variations, wasn’t laughing this time; she looked grim as she flipped through her documents.

“The occurrence rate of Orc hybrids is low, but past data shows instances of them interbreeding with domestic pigs or even Minotaurs. Furthermore, since hybrids can breed with original species, Orc appearances vary slightly by region on the mainland.”

Orcs with different ear shapes, larger tusks, or distinct tails—to an amateur, it sounds like mere individual variation, but for a scholar, these details are important enough to publish a thesis on.

But that aside.

“No-no-ka-san?”

“Eh? …Ah, yes?”

Her tone was slightly stiff—almost as if she were slipping into her formal, public persona. I reached out and pinched her cheeks with both hands. They were smooth and incredibly soft, but I pushed that thought aside and used my fingers to pull the corners of her mouth upward into a forced smile. A bit aggressive, sure, but it was a smile.

“I don’t know what has you so on edge, but the world isn’t going to change just because you’re making a scary face. Let’s take it easy, okay?”

“Fwah…”

Her worried face, with eyebrows slanted like the character for ‘eight,’ made her look like a child. She seemed to be harboring a significant concern. But constantly saying you’re worried won’t make things better; once you’ve done what needs to be done, all you can do is stand tall and wait for the results.

“There are people who’ll be sad if they can’t see Nonoka-san’s smile, so let’s switch gears. Come on—with your wisdom and our strength, we’ll figure it out!”

When I let go, Nonoka-san looked dazed for a moment before finally letting out a giggle. It was a laugh that suggested she’d realized she was being silly.

“…Hehe! It’s strange, but when Varna-kun says it, I feel like everything really will work out. Well, I suppose it’s not a problem I can solve alone anyway. I’ll take that as a positive promise from you, okay?”

“If you’re calling on me, I’ll make sure to bag the prey perfectly again.”

“If you break your promise… I’ll have to scold you, okay?”

As I thought, things just don’t feel right unless Nonoka-san is laughing energetically.

She didn’t seem inclined to voice her specific fears right now, but she’ll likely tell us when the time is right. Nonoka-san has never let the order down. Though she’s technically an outside consultant, she’s practically a member of the order in spirit.

I briefly wondered about exiled Commander Luger and putting her at the top. Everyone would probably be thrilled, though she’d likely drive the headquarters staff crazy by saying, “Do the paperwork for me! I’m going out to the field!”

Meanwhile, Bevion—who would normally be the first to jump into a conversation like this—was busy feeding potatoes to Veera in the luxurious tank set up in the corner of the room. For some reason, his energy was incredibly low.

“Myuun…?”

“…Ah, it’s fine. Visiting that grave reminded me of my original feelings. As long as the little girl is happy, that’s enough. I remembered that basic truth… You want more potato?”

“Myuun!!”

“Don’t feed her too much or she’ll get fat! Keep it in moderation!”

“I know, I know… but when she begs me this cutely, I just can’t stop, Caliban.”

Are you one of those pet owners who gets so carried away doting on their cat that they make it obese?

As a side note, Veera has a small appetite, and apparently, if she overeats, her belly gets perfectly round and she becomes a terrible swimmer. There’s a certain charm in seeing her struggle to move like that, but as they say, you can have too much of a good thing.

Meanwhile, a major incident was occurring at the Officers’ Academy, sending the surrounding students into a stir.

“Amal-san, your step is half a pace too shallow!! Your form has improved, but you lack speed! Visualize your form so that every muscle in your body extends without stagnation!!”

“I don’t know what that means!! Say it in a way I can understand!!”

Rosalind grimaced grandly at the response. After a moment of brooding, she changed her phrasing.

“You know how sometimes your whole body extends and everything just clicks into place with a snap?! Focus on that sensation and make sure you can produce it at will!!”

“You make it sound so easy… Fine, hyaaaah!!”

In their voluntary swordplay training, the two of them were fired up to a degree that could only be described as abnormal. There was Rosalind—previously the epitome of decorum, beauty, and modesty—now acting like a demon instructor. But even more shocking was Amalthea, whose name had practically been a synonym for “clumsy” and “hopeless,” showing movements that were steadily improving.

Until recently, the two had barely exchanged more than morning greetings. The sight of them suddenly forming a tag team stunned those around them. However, between Amal—the overly familiar idiot who was slightly hard to approach—and Rosalind—who possessed a triple-threat of status, aura, and class that made her even harder to approach—no one dared to ask about their relationship.

Furthermore, on the first day of their partnership, things grew increasingly tense; on the second, they were at each other’s throats; and by the third day, they were acting in total silence despite staying together. From the fourth day onward, they had entered this phase: a relentless, no-holds-barred exchange of opinions.

It almost looked like they were acting out of desperation, but Rosalind’s instructions were becoming noticeably more blunt, and Amal, in turn, was learning to pick up those words as actual advice.

In fact, Amal was on the verge of mastering the Sixth Form, ‘Red Sparrow,’ and her Second Form, ‘Water Sweep,’ was slowly starting to look respectable. Compared to the time she accidentally let go of her wooden sword and scored a point against a spectator instead of her opponent, it was a dramatic transformation.

However, Rosalind continued to pepper her with critiques, calling her “soft” and refusing to acknowledge Amal’s growth at all. When Amal got huffy and tried to talk back, Rosalind would demonstrate a flawless example that left no room for rebuttal, declaring, “You must reach this level at the very least!!”

Amal’s bite was just as fierce. If something didn’t sit right with her, she’d counter immediately. The moment their conversation hit a stalemate, she’d snidely provoke her with lines like, “Should I just go ahead and concede? Since I’m the mature one here~!” Yet, for all her venom, there was no sign of her slacking off in training.

If anything, she was so fired up to “make Rosalind eat her words” that she was trying to fix every single one of her flaws. By clashing head-on, Amal had personally abandoned her favorite habit of dodging responsibility.

While the two of them were reaching a fever pitch, everyone else was naturally left in the dust.

What happened to those two…?

The rumors of a forbidden romance just took a 180-degree turn in direction…

Why are two people who clearly hate each other sticking together?

How dare she speak so familiarly to Lady Rosalind… hmph!

Amal has a serious face… is the Kingdom going to fall tomorrow?

The surrounding students buzzed. It was a natural reaction, given they knew nothing about the two receiving guidance from the Kingdom’s strongest knight or their discussions about their career paths. But the pair didn’t care one bit.

“You there! Refrain from idle chatter during sacred training!!”

“Hey!! I can’t concentrate, so shut up!!”

Abrupt shouts came from Rosalind and Amal at the exact same time. For a split second, they realized they had said the same thing and met each other’s eyes before letting out a “Hmph!” and turning away to resume training.

“Good grief, we’ve had to take such a long detour because your basics weren’t up to par!! Reflect on yourself!!”

“I don’t think there’s any point in playing ‘what if’ about the past! Can’t you just look at reality and work hard?!”

“Hmph, true enough… However, if you talk sweet nonsense like giving up on learning now just because you didn’t do it in the past, you will never grow!!”

“I’m not thinking about that!! I’m doing my best here!!”

With words flying back and forth, their anger drove the intensity of the training even higher, backed by more stamina than anyone expected. Needless to say, having such a hardcore “slugfest” of a training session happening right in front of them made it incredibly difficult for the other students to practice. Ignoring the students who were continuing their drills with visible discomfort, the tactical instructor in charge felt a sharp pain in his stomach.

I don’t care if they make up or break up, just let this end quickly…

“Ah, I think that felt pretty good just now!!”

“Don’t forget that sensation! Do it again!!”

“Wait, hey!! You interrupted me from the side and now I forgot the feeling I just had!!”

“Could you please stop acting like it’s my fault?! That’s an issue with your own concentration!!”

It was precisely because neither would compromise that Amal’s abilities were growing, but because there was no compromise, the shouting never stopped.

To repeat: you can have too much of a good thing.