A caravan moved along a road illuminated by dim magic lamps.
Recently renamed the Isa Lante Deepway, this old dwarven road connected the Kingdom of Isalas to the Artom Empire.
Many merchants had been using the Deepway since its recent reopening. They mostly transported a steady supply of mineral resources to the resource-poor Magic Kingdom of Solistia. As a result, the Kingdom of Isalas—which until recently had been forced to sell its minerals to the Holy Land of Metis for cheap—was seeing a major economic boost. If it had taken any longer to finish the Deepway, Isalas could’ve risked being annexed by Metis. They’d cut it pretty close, actually.
Along the route was the ruined undercity of Isa Lante, which was quickly becoming an important location in its own right.
“Damn, this is a long road...” Zweit muttered from within one of the caravan’s carriages. “Wonder how long it goes?”
“According to my map, we should reach Isa Lante before long,” Croesus said.
“Are we... Are we sure this tunnel’s not going to cave in on us? How are you two so calm? Doesn’t it worry you?” Diio said.
“Zweit ought to be used to it by now, hm?” Makarov shrugged. “And Croesus is champing at the bit to see ancient ruins in such pristine condition. C’mon, Diio, use your head...”
The caravan consisted of students of the Istol Academy of Magic. Specifically, the duke’s three children—Zweit, Croesus, and Celestina—as well as Diio, Makarov, Serina, and Yi Ling; Carosty and her entourage; mercenaries and guards, including Anzu and Eromura; and a bunch of other high-achieving students from each faction.
It was quite the ensemble, but that was exactly the problem. Every student here was too high-achieving.
They’d continued to make remarkable progress since their summer break, and their grades had improved enough to put their teachers in a bind.
Normally, instructors would’ve been delighted to have such excellent pupils. The issue was that these students were pushing for political change and proposing factional reform—or, in at least one case, were problem children constantly creating man-made disasters they called “experiments.”
Figuring that they’d be held accountable for their students’ actions and potentially fired if things continued at this rate, the teachers had devised a plausible enough pretense under which to send the students away from the academy.
They were entirely too much for the teachers to handle. Having such excellent young minds was beneficial for each faction as a whole, but the individuals in charge of those factions wanted to maintain the status quo—and they had no idea what to do with kids gunning for change.
“Not that it really matters, but Croesus...” Diio paused. “Where’d you even get that map? Looks like it’s got details about everything in the city...”
“Oh, I helped out with some bits and pieces,” Croesus replied. “And as payment, I had a graduate acquaintance of mine smugg— I mean, er, it was a gift. But please, don’t pry any further, Deep Onion.”
“Who the hell is ‘Deep Onion’?! My name is Diio! You only got the first syllable right! And you were about to say you had someone smuggle it for you, weren’t you?!”
Makarov sighed. “His sister’s remembered our names by now, but he—”
“Aww, don’t get so mad about it, Mack’n’roll,” Zweit said. “This is Croesus we’re talking about, y’know? No way he’d remember anything that doesn’t interest him.”
“Oh, great—so you don’t know my name either! Who’s ‘Mack’n’roll’ supposed to be?! You want me to start thrashing away at some drums or something, huh?!”
Zweit and Croesus still hadn’t learned the names of each other’s friends.
Makarov and Diio had been in the same class as the brothers before. If the brothers still couldn’t remember their names, it seemed like they just didn’t care about them in the slightest.
✦ ✦ ✦
Maybe the wisest option was giving up.
“By the way, Brother...”
“Mmm? What’s up, Croesus?”
“That guy is supposed to be your guard, isn’t he? What’s he doing?”
“‘That guy’?” Zweit paused, following Croesus’s stare. “Oh. You mean Eromura.”
Eroginis Multielf Ravisha was one of the reincarnators. His real name had been Itsuki Enomura, but everyone called him Eromura. And right now, he was diligently attempting to—
“Oh? So you don’t have a boyfriend? Well... How about me? I’d call myself a pretty devoted guy, y’know?”
“Reeeaaally? But, like, you kinda give off playboy vibes...”
“Aww, me? No way! I may not look like it, but I’m the most honest guy you’ll ever meet! I mean, I know I’m hitting on you, but I had to work up my confidence first, okay?”
“Ehe heh... I find that totally hard to believe, though! You for reals?”
“Oh, one hundred percent! I’m not joking here! I am but a lonely vagabond, searching for a maiden to love...”
—get a girlfriend.
And he wasn’t holding back either.
What was more, a bunch of the other guards were clearly getting annoyed.
“Forget about him,” Zweit sighed. “He’s gonna get beaten up by mercenaries again, isn’t he?”
“Well, that’s rather heartless of you. Aren’t you going to help him?” Croesus asked. “Not that I care. It’s none of my business.”
Croesus was pretty heartless too.
In fact, Croesus had seen several fights break out on the way here and had ignored every one of them, refusing to mediate.
“Urgh... Are we there yet?” Zweit groaned.
“You’ve asked that so many times already. Just be patient,” Croesus said.
“And you’ve said that every time...”
The route to Isa Lante was quite boring, and it didn’t seem like the drudgery was going to end anytime soon.