After the practical exercise ended, we received simple treatment in the infirmary at the corner of the training ground. The pain in my left shoulder was lighter than I'd thought—apparently just a minor bruise. For a while, this pain would serve as a reminder not to let my guard down.

  "Master Dylan, are you truly alright?"

  Martha stared worriedly at my shoulder. Without her quick response, my face would have definitely taken a direct hit from that club.

  "Yeah, no problem. More importantly, you really saved me back there. Real combat really is different, isn't it?"

  "Yes, I'm glad you understand."

  Martha answered modestly, but relief colored her expression. With everything that had happened, I'd apparently gotten a bit carried away myself. I'd caused her unnecessary worry.

  As we exchanged such words, I noticed a figure standing awkwardly at the infirmary entrance. Red-haired with distinctive freckles—our team member, Leo.

  "...I'm sorry."

  He bowed his head immediately. Not quite understanding what he was apologizing for, I exchanged glances with Martha.

  "At first, I thought it was just some noble's playtime. That you'd be a burden... but..."

  Words leaked from Leo bit by bit.

  "Master Dylan actually fought properly... I was the one who held back."

  Though halting, his words carried sincerity. I thought it rather exaggerated, but there was a clear divide between Leo and me—commoner and noble.

  "Don't worry about it. Without your spear, I would've been in danger too."

  That was no mere courtesy. In that moment, my follow-up attack hadn't made it in time. The possibility of facing the goblin's counterattack wasn't zero.

  "Besides, the coordination wasn't bad. I'm grateful you were there."

  At my words, Leo froze with a dumbfounded expression. Eventually, as if shaking something off, he roughly scratched his red hair.

  "...Are you really a noble?"

  Such a blunt question from Leo.

  "Well, technically, yeah."

  I smiled wryly while Martha watched with an exasperated expression.

  Leo still seemed to have more to say, but in the end only left behind "...Take care" before departing the infirmary with stiff steps. He was like a whirlwind of a boy, but his fundamentally honest nature came through. Probably not a bad person.

  "To be seen through by someone you just met—this bodes ill for the future."

  Martha remarked with exasperation, yet somehow seeming amused.

  "No doubt about that."

  We exchanged glances and laughed softly.

  "...Well, shall we head back?"

  On the way back to my room after leaving the infirmary, passing in front of the training ground, I saw several students still buzzing with excitement, gathered in groups talking.

  "Man, I seriously thought I was gonna die. Did you see that goblin's eyes?"

  "Yeah, totally felt it. Real combat really is different."

  Apparently they'd just finished the practical exercise like us. As I tried to pass by, a phrase I couldn't ignore flew into my ears.

  "—But still, surprising, right? That 'Prince Rejection.'"

  My face involuntarily twitched. To think that dishonorable nickname was being passed around even here.

  "Ah, you mean Belmond?"

  "Yeah yeah, I thought he'd just gotten desperate over that whole thing."

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  "True... but those moves were legit. Rumors aside, I guess that's House Belmond for you."

  Should I consider that I'd managed to show them something worthwhile? Just as I thought that—

  "Oh right, did you hear? About the guy from Baron Altona's house."

  "Yeah, heard about it. Apparently he took down a goblin by himself."

  The two began discussing something hard to believe. Apparently after us, someone else had achieved results in that training.

  "Seriously!? By himself, in this training that requires coordination?"

  "Yeah. Apparently the professor said something like 'no wasted movement, but no flair either' and passed him easily. He's a monster, seriously."

  Alone, a goblin. An opponent we'd barely defeated with three people, and with Martha's help at that—taken down by just one person. Moreover, by the scion of a baron house, lower in rank than me.

  There's always someone better...

  I felt reality being thrust in my face.

  However, I simultaneously questioned that person's name. They'd said Baron Altona. But as far as I knew, there was no episode in the original academy life of such a baron house being active. Precisely because hero Leon frequently took Monster Studies, that remained as a discrepancy.

  "Master Dylan?"

  Perhaps finding my silence strange, Martha peered at my face.

  "No, it's nothing."

  After eavesdropping and then getting depressed on my own—I couldn't possibly admit that.

  "Is that so...? Do you perhaps have some thoughts about the earlier exercise?"

  Martha's perceptiveness was sharp as ever. I resigned myself and decided to answer honestly.

  "...Yeah, well. Apparently someone took down the goblin we struggled with by themselves."

  "I see. However, that's nothing to be surprised about."

  Martha nodded rather readily, unexpectedly.

  "This academy gathers students from various backgrounds. Those from adventurer families who've accumulated real combat experience since childhood, those blessed with opportunities to fight monsters in rural regions... Such differences in experience inevitably show."

  Indeed, that was true. I'd trained safely under instructors in a privileged environment. But in this world, there must be those forced to fight for their lives.

  "Master Dylan, you underestimate yourself too much. To fight that well in your first real combat is commendable."

  At Martha's consolation, I gave a bitter smile.

  "I appreciate the comfort, but... I'm still anxious. When a truly great threat appears ahead, what will I even be able to do?"

  With signs of the Demon King's resurrection beginning to appear, my lack of strength was a serious problem. Even following Oscar's advice to "become successful" and solve everything, that path might be more arduous than I'd imagined.

  "I don't believe that's something Master Dylan should worry about—but I have watched your growth up close. I guarantee that effort is never wasted."

  Firm conviction dwelled in her eyes. With someone who cared this much about me, I couldn't keep looking down forever.

  "Thank you, Martha. You're right, I am excellent!"

  "...That's going too far."

  We exchanged glances and laughed softly. Thanks to Martha's banter, my earlier gloom had completely cleared.

  "...Well then, shall we go to the dining hall? I'm honestly starving."

  As we walked while conversing, I saw a familiar figure approaching from ahead.

  "Yo, Dylan! Good work out there."

  It was Oscar. Recognizing me, he raised his hand with his usual frivolous smile.

  "Oscar? That's unusual, seeing you here."

  It felt like it had been a while since I'd met Oscar anywhere but the dining hall.

  "...That's because you only show your face at the dining hall."

  Oscar shrugged as if utterly exasperated. His gaze lingered on my light armor and the bandage wrapped around my bruised shoulder.

  "What's with that getup? Did you finally snap from the rejection shock and decide to join the knight order?"

  "Don't be stupid. It's for Monster Studies practical exercise."

  "Huh? Professor Gideon's? You're as eccentric as ever. So how'd it go? Did you cry facing goblins?"

  To Oscar asking gleefully with a grin, I recalled the exercise and made a sour face. Annoyingly, it wasn't entirely wrong.

  "Unfortunately, we barely managed to take down one with three people."

  At those words, Oscar looked momentarily dumbfounded.

  "Eh, seriously? But like, that maid over there took it down for you or something..."

  "No, our team defeated it."

  When I stated the facts plainly, Oscar's eyes widened. To see such an expression on his usually smug face was rare indeed.

  "Team? You actually fought?"

  "Master Dylan faced the goblin as frontline and dealt it a grievous wound. My role was merely support."

  Before I could answer, Martha beside me smoothly interjected. Her voice carried no emotion whatsoever, but therefore resonated as unshakeable fact. Oscar looked back and forth between my shoulder bandage and Martha's serious expression, finally seeming to grasp the situation.

  "Seriously... you actually did it."

  The frivolous smile vanished, pure surprise appearing on his face.

  "Yeah. Well, I saw plenty of issues to work on."

  "Huh... impressive. I've gained new respect for you, Dylan."

  Oscar nodded repeatedly with satisfaction.

  "So what brings you here?"

  I asked while I had the chance.

  "Mm, got business at the church. Going to receive holy oil for the pact ceremony."

  "Ah, I see."

  The pact ceremony was just days away now. I planned to receive the holy oil tomorrow myself.

  "Yeah yeah, you purify yourself with holy oil before the ceremony to curry favor with the spirits. Well, it's basically just superstition, but my family won't stop nagging about it."

  Oscar scratched his head looking annoyed. Very like him, in a way.

  "Have you already signed up? With a lineage like House Belmond, you'll probably contract with some impressive spirit, won't you?"

  "Spirits don't care about lineage."

  At my words, Oscar laughed. "Haha."

  "Well, true. That's why they even bother preparing holy oil."

  Oscar shrugged and glanced back toward the church.

  "Well then, I'll be off. You keep at it too. That bloody effort of yours might surprisingly bear fruit."

  "What do you mean 'bloody'...?"

  Nimbly dodging my protest, Oscar departed with light steps. The same frivolous guy as always, but he seemed to respect me a bit more today. Well, I didn't feel bad about it.

  "Master Dylan, shouldn't we return to your room before dining?"

  Martha proposed. Indeed, going to the dining hall still wearing light armor would be rather conspicuous.

  "Ah, you're right."

  And so we headed back.