I Became the Academy’s War Hero-Chapter 38 : You Were Much More of a Trash Than I Thought? (1)

Chapter 38: You Were Much More of a Trash Than I Thought? (1)
March 9th, Wednesday. Early morning.
Sitting formally before her desk, Lea Bronte had her head deeply bowed, as if ashamed.
When a sigh escaped from the opposite side, her shoulders sank even further.
“…Why the long face already? What did you do wrong?”
“……”
Truly speechless—she had no excuse to offer.
“No answer?”
“N–No, ma’am! I, uh… that is….”
After hesitating for quite some time, Lea finally replied in a barely audible voice.
“…My identity was exposed.”
“To whom?”
“To that Instructor Eugene Carter, the one you mentioned before….”
“Oh ho, to Carter?”
She had expected a harsh scolding to follow—but her Master’s reaction was surprisingly calm.
Lea, now almost on the verge of tears, asked timidly,
“Am I… not going to be punished?”
“Of course you are. Naturally.”
But let’s save that talk for later—
Her Master said, shifting the topic.
“I entrusted you with this important task because there’s no one else with a mouth as tight as yours. Even if something went wrong, I was sure my identity would never be revealed.”
“……”
“And yet you were found out this easily? Why?”
That was the one thing she simply couldn’t wrap her head around, no matter how she thought about it.
“…I don’t really know. I went there intending to extract information from him, but somehow… it just slipped out, as if I’d been bewitched or something….”
“You’re saying he didn’t try any tricks on you?”
“No, I don’t think so. There wasn’t a single trace of magic or any artifact being used….”
“So what you’re telling me is… the ever tight-lipped Lea Bronte was defeated by mere conversation?”
“…I have no excuse. If you order me to end my life here and now, I’ll gladly obey.”
If that’s what you wish of me…
At Lea’s determined words, her Master stayed silent for a while.
And when the reply came, it was something she hadn’t expected at all.
“Well done.”
“…Pardon?”
“It couldn’t have stayed hidden forever. If it had to be exposed, better to someone like Carter—a reformist—than to Bernhardt’s puppets or those opportunists chasing profit.”
“I–I see…?”
Well, if Master said so, then that must be how it was. Lea convinced herself and nodded faintly.
“I didn’t originally intend to use you for this kind of purpose… but I suppose this too is fate.”
“…Master?”
“Ah, it’s nothing. A package will be arriving soon. Deliver it to him exactly as it is.”
“Ah… understood.”
“And I haven’t forgiven you yet. Stay on probation until I return. Clear?”
“…Ah, yes! I’ll remember that!”
The conversation ended there—abruptly, unilaterally.
Lea stared blankly at the now-dimmed orb, then let out a deep sigh.
Ribenia – Levinel Region.
Among the Empire’s nine territories, it ranked third in economy, military power, and population.
Though only four noble houses formally governed the region, including the adjacent ones raised the number to eleven—a dense concentration for its size.
The prime land of Levinel had belonged to the Halenber Family for the past 150 years.
Especially in recent years, their business expansion had been nothing short of frightening. Scholars even evaluated them as showing the most remarkable growth among the Empire’s Eight Great Houses.
Of course, most of their ventures bordered on illegality, and thus their public reputation was steadily declining.
Until the era of Azov Halenber, the family head two generations prior, they still somewhat heeded public scrutiny. But when the Imperial Court’s extravagance drew public resentment, the Halenbers seized the moment to expand their exploitation in earnest.
A family that had lost its founding ideals and become a puppet of the Bernhardt Family—that was the general evaluation of the current Halenber line.
Still, because their exploitation was limited to borderlands and foreign territories—and they generously redistributed the plundered wealth to their own citizens—the internal sentiment wasn’t as bad as one might expect.
While the townspeople busied themselves with their daily livelihoods, Jeff Halenber sat in his private study at the main estate, skillfully cutting into a steak laid before him.
It was nearly raw, crimson juices dripping with each slice. As he chewed the bloody meat, he scanned through the day’s s. Nothing of note.
Knock, knock—
“It’s the butler, Master.”
At the voice from beyond the door, Jeff’s broad shoulders didn’t move an inch.
The butler entered cautiously, retrieved a train ticket from his coat, and handed it over.
“The train departs at 9:30.”
“Mm.”
Jeff nodded lightly, pushed aside his half-eaten plate, and rose from his seat.
“…Do you not have an appetite, sir?”
“Not today. Have you summoned Dale?”
“Yes.”
Donning the coat the butler offered, Jeff reached for the neatly placed Tebrel Orb on the shelf beside the desk, then headed outside.
“Let’s go.”
Beyond the front gate, a splendid carriage emblazoned with the Halenber crest awaited him.
Three Morgan horses, equipped with enchanted harnesses, pawed the ground restlessly.
“Have a safe trip, Master.”
The carriage began its journey toward the train station, about ten kilometers away.
Inside, Jeff infused a small amount of mana into the orb to send a signal to the other party.
A moment later, a response came.
From within the softly pulsing violet light, a deep voice resonated.
“Dale here, Jeff.”
Dale Wedmeyer—Director of Planning and General Affairs of Karbenna, and head of the Wedmeyer Family.
Leaning slightly against the wall, Jeff jested,
“You sound more worn out than before. Because of Hockma, perhaps?”
“You should stop fooling around with women, Jeff. Haven’t you long passed the age for showing off your virility?”
It wasn’t even an amusing joke, but both chuckled lowly, as if sharing an inside joke.
Less than twenty minutes remained until they reached the station. No point in idle chatter.
So Jeff got straight to the point.
“Well then, how’s the conference preparation going?”
“Thanks to your help, smoothly.”
“Many believe this will be the last. I’ll leave it in your capable hands.”
“Well, we’re only doing our duty… but are you prepared? I’ve heard the tribute this time is enormous.”
“So I squeezed them dry. Triple the previous amount.”
At the word “triple,” a groan escaped from the other side.
“Huh. Looks like we’re in for a few rough days.”
“What, didn’t you get a from Plezens?”
“Well, I did… but it’s the start of the new semester, isn’t it? The busiest time of the year. We’ll just have to understand.”
“I’m counting on you, Dale. It’ll be troublesome for us as well if your side doesn’t handle things properly.”
“It’s not like I’m the one doing the work. The agents are the ones suffering.”
“And one more thing—this one’s about my son….”
Jeff let out a deep sigh as he gazed out the window.
His face was wrinkled with the weariness of a man burdened with a troublesome weight.
“He seems to be quite interested in that girl—what was her name? Francia, or something.”
“Francia… You mean Francia Brida?”
“You know her?”
“She’s been quite the topic among the professors. I heard she recently awakened the Sword Saint’s Gene.”
How bothersome.
Clicking his tongue, Jeff continued,
“Dale, I’d like you to place a Covenant on my son.”
“A Covenant? You mean Geas Magic?”
“He might mess things up, after all. Think of it as an insurance policy.”
“Hm.”
“It’s not a difficult task, is it? It’s one of your specialties.”
“It’s not difficult… but are you sure about this? Once it’s cast, there’s no undoing it.”
Jeff slowly shook his head.
“That boy has already lost his worth. This will be his final mission. I plan to bring him back to Levinel soon.”
“…You’re a harsh father. Not that it matters to me.”
“I’m asking as a favor.”
“Fine. Then bring a good bottle of wine next time, Jeff.”
“Mm.”
“See you soon, then.”
That was the end of their conversation.
Without a word, Jeff pulled out a cigar from his breast pocket.
For someone who had just asked another to cast a curse-like spell on his own son, his face was remarkably calm.
“…Phew.”
The time she’d invested at the cost of her daily training had borne fruit, but—
Francia tossed the book onto the table with a dull thud.
Why had she never thought of something so simple until now?
Feeling disgusted with herself, she exhaled a long sigh.
Every single day, she had lived with revenge in mind.
To take revenge on those who had ruined her life—she had believed the only path was to grow stronger, to train relentlessly.
That there was no other choice.
At least until her special training with Instructor Carter.
“…Eric.”
Through the Genealogical Records of Noble Houses of the Ribenia Empire, Francia had discovered several crucial facts.
The Halenber Family had long held dominance over Levinel’s central territory, but their rise to the position they held now was said to have begun around the year 1468—
The period when they pursued the merger of smaller neighboring families: Brida and Vergel.
She skimmed through the old newspapers piled across the table.
Among them, what caught her eye was an editorial concerning the forced adoption by the Halenbers.
<A Proper Adoption Procedure, or a Forced Slave Contract?>
That was the gist of it.
It accused them of bankrupting stable houses through economic pressure, then seizing their human resources under the guise of humanitarianism.
And beneath the article was a black-and-white photograph.
Among a group of young children stood a boy with a sullen expression, staring directly at the camera.
Children of the Vergel Family, undergoing the adoption process.
The moment she saw it, she was certain.
That boy was Eric, Eric Halenber.
“…Haah.”
Had she been harboring hatred toward the wrong person all this time?
And had she even tried to kill him, too?
Maybe she could justify it because of the way he’d treated her before—say it was just retribution, that he’d brought it upon himself, that it was only natural after how he’d tormented her.
But to brush it off that way—the anger she’d felt toward him had been far too intense.
Just recalling their duel made her head throb painfully.
‘If I had really killed Eric that day….’
The thought alone made her shiver.
Of course, that didn’t mean he was innocent.
He had insulted the Brida Family, provoked her at every opportunity, and led those childish acts of ostracism.
But if she asked herself whether those were crimes deserving death—she could only shake her head.
Killing Eric wouldn’t have compensated for her pain.
And it wouldn’t have guaranteed such things wouldn’t happen again.
In the end, all she’d done was grab at an easy target, hoping to end the story there.
Because facing the true enemy—the greater evil—was beyond her reach.
So she had unleashed all her pent-up resentment onto Eric, the boy carrying the name of Halenber, to ease her heart.
“…Pathetic.”
She muttered softly, then abruptly stood up.
Perhaps because morning classes had been canceled, more than ten of her classmates were gathered in the lounge, chatting away.
Without sparing them a glance, Francia walked straight outside.
She didn’t know what she had to do, or what she could do—nothing was clear.
But sitting still made her skin crawl with restlessness.
So she decided to move.
And naturally, her steps carried her toward Building E, where Eugene Carter’s private office was located.