I, Allen Rovene, was about to go off the rails.
I’d been looking forward to this camping trip more than anyone else. I would have enjoyed it more than anyone else. Yet, in an unfortunate turn of events, I now found myself all alone in the middle of the night, staring up at a sheer cliff face. The cliff—because I refused to make a molehill out of it by calling it a mountainside—was several hundred meters high and featured a single, zigzagging path which couldn’t have been more than thirty centimeters at its widest. Provided you were willing to cling to the rocky cliff face the whole time, it was definitely possible to climb up the path, even if you weren’t a skilled mountain climber.
On the other hand, the path was also the only way to traverse the cliff face, thanks to the horizontal overhangs jutting out at irregular intervals. The path would take you around or over them, but a direct vertical ascent would be impossible without a whole bunch of equipment. Even a climber as skilled as Dan wouldn’t stand a chance. Equipment or not, you’d still be exposed throughout the entire length of the climb, and a single well-aimed arrow or spell would send you plummeting to a certain death. The same went for being spotted by a bird-type monster or just a clumsy misstep.
Basically, no spy in their right mind would even consider choosing this route when there were other options available—which, in other words, meant I’d been sent out here all alone to wait for an enemy who definitely wouldn’t appear. My proficiency with Scouting Magic meant I could cover a wide area alone, but it sure as hell didn’t mean I was happy to. I couldn’t detect anyone nearby either—not Godolphen or the other tracker, who I assumed belonged to the Order.
Sure, I might be a provisional Order member myself, and sure, maybe Dew’s sent me on a bunch of solo missions before, but right now I’m just a student, you bastards! You should at least pretend to feel some responsibility for my welfare!
Of course, the fact that I had been left out here on my lonesome also implied there was no need to watch me, which further proved my suspicions: The spies wouldn’t come this way. One of my classmates would eventually come to fetch me once all the spies were apprehended, but with this being another of the geezer’s scenarios, I was pretty sure I’d be waiting a while.
This camp’s gonna be over before I even get a chance to enjoy it... This is all his fault.
Rather than admit my predicament was at least partly my own fault, I simply directed all of my rage toward Godolphen—and by this point, I had plenty of it. Turning my back on the cliff face, I started heading back toward the cover of the forest. I was tossing up the idea of foraging ingredients for another soup (I’d brought a few small pots along, just in case I wanted to kill some time). Winter came earlier this high in the mountains, which meant there wasn’t much vegetation nearby. Luckily, I had plenty of time to kill.
And if the spies did appear (and subsequently escape) while I was otherwise occupied... Well, I couldn’t care less. In the end, the scenarios were just that—scenarios. This was just a training exercise. I’d never been worried about getting a good score. From the get-go, I’d only wanted two things: to enjoy the trip with my classmates and to soak in the hot springs to my heart’s content (though I’d also added a third thing—getting revenge on Godolphen—to my list of desires soon thereafter). But once again, I’d been cast aside. If the spies did escape via my route, it would probably cause a lot of trouble for my classmates...but that wasn’t my problem.
Because as of this moment, Allen Rovene is officially off the rails.