Chapter 24 Quollio Batigan
The knights' morning starts early.
As the sun rises, the usual knights wake up, busy with patrols, missions, and preparing for civilian duties.
So, does that mean a rookie knight like me has free time? Not at all. I wake up at almost the same time, stuff my face with breakfast, and spend the whole day training.
I run while carrying logs, swing a mock spear while drenched in sweat, and dash around the training grounds covered in mud.
The intensity of it all could make even the protagonist of a sports manga want to run away barefoot. In fact, within a week of joining, I've already noticed a few people have disappeared.
"Hiiro Merifar, finish confirmed. It seems you placed high again."
"Yeah, of course... Hah, hah..."
"You have spirit, but your way of speaking to the instructor still needs work. Do you want to run another lap?"
"Y-yeah, I'd want that."
"...Hmph, fine. Then let's run another lap around the outer perimeter. Go!"
That said, simple basic training is what I excel at the most. Even if my troublesome mouth gets me pushed into another lap, it doesn't feel like much of a burden.
(Hmm, what's that...?)
As I run along the familiar route, cutting through the wind with my body, I catch sight of a back that brings an indescribable bitterness.
"...Struggling, huh?"
"Ugh, shut up. Don't compare me to a stamina freak like you."
"I'll give you credit for having the guts to talk back, even when you look like you're about to puke up breakfast, Quollio."
"Y-you're being unnecessarily helpful!"
Even when I try to offer a little support out of guilt, my tone only sounds like sarcasm to him, which I hate.
Not to be outdone, the blue eyes behind his glasses glare at me with annoyance.
This slender guy with long green hair tied at the nape is Quollio Batigan.
He is my current roommate, and we've been in an awkward relationship for the past week.
* * *
In a long life, there are times when you earn grudges you don't remember. After all, we're human.
If only I could manage some sort of detachment, whether it be enlightenment or escapism, how much better would that be?
"What a situation. What a situation this is. I hated just becoming a knight, and now I have to share a room with someone like him. Ugh, this is too much. Is this a trial given to me by the god of battle, despite being born into a Yuglith family without any faith? What a situation, what a situation..."
(Um, we met 3 seconds ago, and this is what I get. What am I supposed to do about this, Goddess?)
The hellish scene of both of us lamenting to the gods has been completed.
I was truly at a loss. Even a police dog dealing with a cat it doesn't know would have more confidence than me in this situation.
That said, it wouldn't make sense to talk without understanding the circumstances.
I tried to calm down my roommate, who looked like a typical intellectual, by speaking to him.
"Hey."
"W-what is it? Just so you know, if you try to do anything to me, we're both knights now, and this is a knight dormitory! Don't think you can get away with the same kind of bullying as in school!"
(This is bad. This is really bad. How much influence did past Hiiro and Ruzure have?)
Even if I have no recollection of it, I have my suspicions.
This must be some grudge from before I got involved. He's definitely one of those students who was disliked even by the others in the same class.
"...Let me ask you something." (Um, could you tell me your name and how we met to create this grudge?)
"W-what is it?"
"Who the hell are you? Have we met somewhere?" (Um, first, your name, and how did we meet to create this grudge?)
"...Y-you. You can't be serious, have you really forgotten!"
Whoa! This colloquial automatic conversion function!
I was trying to probe for the cause without provoking him, but now it's ruined. My roommate's face turns red with anger. Unfortunately, it was to be expected.
"Ugh, fine. Listen, I'm not going to get involved with you. I won't even try. So you don't get involved with me either!"
And this outright rejection. It was the worst first meeting I could imagine. Although I was the only one meeting him for the first time.
After that, no matter how much I tried to speak, he completely ignored me, and I only learned his name, Quollio.
* * *
Even when I'm in my room or out and about, I never let go of my book, not even during short breaks after training.
I'm a hardcore fan of sandwiches that I can eat with one hand, so my other hand is always occupied.
Because of that, I often trip and bump into walls, completely oblivious to my surroundings.
It's at a level that could be called clumsy.
"Ugh!"
"...Well, if you walk while reading, that's bound to happen."
"Shut up. Don't make fun of me!"
"Tch."
So today, just like any other day, I showcased my beautiful ability to fall.
"First of all, why are you following me? I told you to leave me alone."
"I'm not following you. There's only one way to the damn cafeteria."
"Then just skip lunch."
"I'm not skipping when there's training after, idiot."
"You're such a fitness nut."
"And you, with that mouth that never shuts up, have the nerve to call me that."
I was starting to get used to the constant insults, even as I got back up.
Even after a week, my relationship with Quollio hadn't improved; I didn't even understand the original cause.
Honestly, it was tough. After being worn out from training, I couldn't shake off the fatigue while surrounded by such a heavy atmosphere.
It was partly because of things I didn't even remember.
(Sigh...)
In this hopeless situation, I slumped my shoulders, and just as I was about to pick up the book that Quollio had dropped when he fell, I heard.
"Stop it! Don't touch my book!"
"Ugh!"
My outstretched hand was swatted away forcefully.
I gasped at the suddenness of it, and my fingertips stung from the impact.
"Ah..."
The surprise was overwhelming. I had hardly ever experienced such a clear rejection before.
I found myself staring blankly at my hand, and then I heard Quollio's groan, which seemed to carry a hint of regret.
"Ugh."
The moment our eyes met, he roughly picked up the book and ran off, hiding his face.
His back seemed to shake off even the slightest regret that had suddenly surfaced, and in no time, he was far away.
(...It's more serious than I thought.)
I clenched the hand that had been swatted away and let out a deep, heavy sigh. Really, what should I do? Just because I don't remember anything doesn't mean I can just brush it off.
It was a serious rejection. Something must have happened to him.
(If only I knew the cause. But even if I ask him, he probably won't tell me...)
"Tch, standing there with your big body. Move, you jerk."
"...Huh?"
As I was seriously troubled, I was hit with a merciless insult from behind.
It was quite a greeting, but more than that, it was a voice I recognized all too well.
"...Shouk."
Shouk, a little guy who is part of Ruzure's entourage and my long-time acquaintance, was standing right behind me, grinning with a sleazy smile.
Please bookmark this series and rate ☆☆☆☆☆ on here!
Donate me
Support Me with USDC
(ERC20)
Support Me with XLM
(Stellar Lumens)