Chapter 41: Suspicions and Sweets

A Tense Encounter

‘Why’s she here?’

I gripped my sword tightly.

Ready to strike if needed.

According to the prince’s investigation, on the day of the incident, Sanginoa and Ledel skipped classes for health reasons.

But that didn’t mean they left the academy.

A server testified they both came out of their rooms to collect meals.

Not enough to clear them, but the dorm supervisor—a skilled mage—also swore they never left.

Even the prince couldn’t dig further.

The dorm, housing noble heirs, promising mages, and notable commoners, was protected by top-tier magic.

Even demons would struggle to slip in and out.

Evading the supervisor’s eyes was just as hard.

‘Though it’s not impossible.’

“Who are you?”

A classmate, seated on the empire side, asked Ledel.

She responded with a booming voice.

“Is our junior from the empire?!”

“Y-Yes! I’m Aiden, third son of Viscount Collins from the western empire!”

“Ohh! An empire guy, and you don’t feel anything seeing this red hair?!”

Aiden finally recognized her, jumping in shock.

“Oh, oh! Not recognizing the empire’s Bloodshield, Lady of Dolor, what a blunder!”

Ledel put on a stern face, then broke into a goofy grin.

“Hehe, with so many nobles, how could you know them all? Viscount Collins rules near the western mountains, right? I went there once for mage tower materials. Our guide back then…”

Ledel’s mouth ran nonstop.

Some, including Saintess Isidora, were already covering their ears.

Those testimonies only hold if we’re not dealing with high-ranking demons.

High demons are masters of magic.

They could’ve used decoys or illusions to distort memories from the day before.

The two demons’ abilities, shown in the last battle, were bleeding and precision manipulation.

Demons specialize in one type of magic, no exceptions, even for high ranks.

That means at least one accomplice helped their alibi.

Could be a demon or a human who sold their soul.

The key is who and where they are.

Tracking them would reveal the demons’ identities.

“…So the guide’s like, ‘How do you tell blue grass from cyan grass?’ To a mage, they’re totally different! Cyan grass is like the eyes of the student in front—oh?! Tumbleweed Saintess!”

“Isidora.”

Isidora responded.

Ledel grinned, grabbed her hands, her silver armband glinting.

“Been so long! Since I walked you to the dorm on day one, right? I was supposed to mentor you, but my brother got picked in the draw, and I was so bummed! Different years mean we barely meet, I missed you! Oh, and I heard at the cafeteria you were on someone’s back—the kingdom’s hero, was it?”

Isidora barely stopped Ledel’s verbal barrage.

“Uh, Lady Dolor? Senior?”

“Call me senior! Sounds better! Last year, as a freshman, I saw a senior with such scary eyes, I accidentally called her mom…”

“Senior Dolor.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you here? The teacher’s not here yet, is something up?”

This could all be baseless paranoia.

They might just be the children of Dolor, the empire’s border count and mage tower lord, future allies against demons.

But I don’t buy it, because I never met them in my first life.

Demons from the conflict zone swiftly invaded both nations’ borders, especially Dolor’s lands, which fell fastest.

The empire’s shield, yet it collapsed quicker than anywhere else.

Almost as if they were waiting for the demons.

That reminded me of an old meme video my friend Osiu showed me.

In a game called Gate Block, a red player yells “Irasshaimase!” and opens the gate.

The red troops’ color matched Sanginoa and Ledel’s hair.

Coincidence?

Ledel brushed back her red hair and said,

“Oh, right! I came for a reason!”

She dashed to the chalkboard, grabbed chalk, and scribbled, making tapping sounds.

A student read it aloud slowly.

“Club… activities?”

“Exactly!”

Clubs? Didn’t exist in my first life.

This place is a microcosm of continental politics, a mess, not a playground for kids.

Ledel tapped the board and spoke.

“Yup, Enemis Academy started club activities two years ago! Seniors worked hard so you juniors don’t have a dull life, so join lots!”

I thought regression would make things easier, but with Saintess Isidora’s arrival and demon attacks, it’s all new.

My head throbbed.

Club Chaos

Club activities?

The novel never mentioned this.

Isn’t club recruitment usually at the semester’s start?

It’s been almost a month since enrollment.

“So, what do club activities involve? Like a salon?”

Patricia asked.

Ledel answered, still smiling.

“Hm, salons are just eating snacks and joking around, right? Clubs do more varied stuff.”

Knock knock!

Someone rapped on the door.

Ledel jumped, realizing she forgot others, and opened it.

“Oh, right! I left my group waiting while I blabbed. Come in, come in!”

Several students poured in.

Different genders, builds, and looks, but one thing united them.

“Greetings, everyone!”

The one in the center thrust out both arms.

A silver armband on their left sleeve fluttered.

Ledel and the newcomers all wore them.

I hadn’t seen them at the entrance ceremony, so they must be for club activities.

“I’m Isaac, third-year, student council member, and head of the club union! I’m here to promote club activities to you juniors!”

Isaac strode to the board, grabbed chalk, and wrote large.

Swordsmanship, hunting, reading, religion, music, painting, snacks.

…Snacks?

The others make sense, but what’s that?

Another curious student beat me to it.

“What’s the snack club do?”

“Haha! Already interested? Hear us out first!”

Isaac’s explanation matched my expectations.

Clubs were social gatherings for noble hobbies.

The snack club was for students who loved sweets, mostly chatting and eating, occasionally baking.

Clearly a salon for noble ladies who wanted it even at the academy.

After the overview, Isaac introduced the students with silver armbands.

“This big guy is Andre, reading club president. This graceful beauty is Agnes, religion club president.”

Agnes winked at me when called.

Probably thinks I’ll join her club since I’m a saintess.

Sorry, I’ve already decided.

I couldn’t say that outright, so I smiled back.

Each club president waved as Isaac called them.

The silver armbands must mark club leaders.

‘Wait, then…’

Isaac called the last one.

“…And finally, the snack club president! Where’s Ledel?”

Despite Ledel standing right there, Isaac playfully looked around, making students giggle.

Ledel, poised to introduce herself, got mad and charged at him.

“Grr! Isaac-senior! Teasing about height is for kids!”

Her charging looked exactly like a kid’s.

“Haha, sorry, Ledel. Your reactions are too fun!”

Isaac took her attack with a laugh, pushing her forward.

“Go on, juniors are waiting.”

Ledel, glaring and puffing, covered her face with both hands.

“Ughhh!”

She spun around, revealing a face bright as sunshine, no trace of gloom.

“Hi! I’m Ledel Dolor, third president of the snack club, rightful heir of Dolor Mage Tower, academy gossip hub, top candidate for next club union head, student council’s true mastermind, and, per my survey, the academy’s most beautiful woman!”

“Getting grander, Ledel. Top candidate? When did you survey that?”

Ledel laughed at Isaac’s words.

“I asked around the student council!”

She cleared her throat with a hum.

“Again, I’m the radiant Ledel Dolor, snack club president!”

Clap clap clap…

Other club presidents clapped softly, looking fond.

She’s the student council’s mascot, perfect for it.

Ledel, too busy boasting, didn’t notice.

“Didn’t you say clubs aren’t like salons, Senior Dolor?”

The student who asked about the snack club spoke again.

Ledel brushed it off.

“Yup! But I love salons, so think of it as a salon club!”

Utter nonsense, but her confidence silenced the student.

He realized reasoning with her was futile.

With no more questions, Ledel kept talking.

“So, we’re recruiting for the snack club now! Love sweets? Raise your hand!”

I and a few others raised our hands.

Honestly, how do you resist sweets?

This world’s severely lacking in them.

Especially in temples like the Pantheon, sweets are rare.

A club to eat sweets endlessly?

I’m in, no question.

“….”

Agnes, the religion club president, stared, but I ignored her and looked away.

Then—

“…Orphe?”
‘Why you?’

Orphe, in my line of sight, boldly raised his hand.