My Beloved Princess ~The Boy Called Incompetent Rises with Only a Sword and the Princess's Devotion~ - Chapter 040: Status Improvement

Summer special practicum period ended and second semester classes began.

Boring days ended, and days chased by classes seemed to have returned.

On the calendar summer had already ended, but harsh lingering heat continued.

The path from the Magic Research Building grounds toward the main school building.

Suddenly stopping, Kishō turned around. Beyond where the stone pavement continued lay Upper School grounds.

“Is it green now, or yellow?”

“Huh? What are you saying? Did the heat make your head weird?”

Ōka tilted her head dubiously, swaying her short chestnut hair.

It was certainly hot. Dragonkin had no concept of seasonal clothing changes and wore the same dragon robes year-round. Because dragonkin with high resistance to heat and cold were also strong against heat. Even Ōka had a cool face looking perfectly fine. Wiping sweat from his forehead, Kishō savored this world’s unreasonableness and said:

“No. The Dragon King Tree. It blooms six types of flowers each season, right? We just entered fall, but the temperature’s the same as summer. So I’m saying, “Is it green or yellow?”

“Oh,” giving an uninterested response, Ōka walked ahead.

“Shō-kun, you’re more maiden-like than I thought.”

Catching up to Ōka with long strides—

“Shut up. It really doesn’t suit me, does it.”

When they’d met under the Dragon King Tree, who could have imagined? That she was the noble Princess, and moreover would become his fiancée.

Lower School’s north. From the Magic Research Building grounds through the main building’s east, entering the entrance hall from the front entrance. Tossing footwear into wooden lockers, Kishō felt something off.

“Hm?”

Turning his head left and right, he looked around.

Lunch break approaching its end, female students who’d apparently returned from the garden passed right beside Kishō and Ōka. In the corridor continuing from the entrance hall, three female students were chatting and laughing. Nothing particularly unusual. An everyday scene.

“What’s wrong?”

Asked by Ōka, Kishō furrowed his brow.

At first glance, it was an ordinary daily moment, but something was strange.

He directed his gaze attentively at the three-student group.

Familiar faces. Same first-years.

One of the girls glanced this way, then immediately returned to conversation.

Feeling something didn’t sit right, while prompting the dubious-looking Ōka, Kishō proceeded to the corridor. A wide lateral corridor. He observed passing female students from the corner of his eye.

Still that sense of wrongness. Somehow restless.

Partway, stopping by the locker room.

Since Central Dragon Emperor Academy adopted a university-like learning system, their own classroom didn’t exist. Therefore, belongings had to be stored in the locker room and managed individually.

Locker rooms were separated by gender, and the male locker room for 25 people was cramped. Girls apparently had five times this space.

Unlocking the small padlock, Kishō took out the textbooks and notebook stored in the upper section. With practiced motions he tied them with string and dangled them like a lunch box.

Waiting for Ōka at the entrance, they met up.

Ultimately, without understanding the sense of wrongness’s true identity, Kishō arrived at the classroom. Placing a hand on the heavy wooden sliding door, he slid it sideways. With almost no frictional resistance, the smoothly opening door exceeded its limit and made a loud clatter.

The female students having a standing chat at the entrance looked back startled with shocked faces at the sound. Kishō felt a bit awkward and covered it with a wry smile.

One or two sarcastic remarks. No, he’d prepared for one or two insults.

Because being looked down on and gossiped about behind his back was his daily reality, even when doing nothing.

However, contrary to expectation, the female students didn’t hurl insults. Rather, they smoothly averted their gazes and split left and right as if opening a path, remaining silent. A reaction like dogs before a stronger opponent awkwardly averting gazes and yielding the way.

“What the hell happened? This is creepy.”

Sitting at the edge of the long desk at the back row by the window, Kishō said in a tone showing it didn’t sit right. Ōka, sitting in the adjacent seat and spreading out brought textbooks and notebook, smiled with slight difficulty.

“You got engaged to Yō-chan, right? That’s why.”

“Huh?”

Why?—about to say that, Kishō fell silent.

And realized. The wall of absolute power.

“Go along with the powerful, huh?”

“No, that’s a bit different.”

“Then what?”

Casually denied, he felt slightly miffed. Looking up at Kishō who’d become brusque with upturned eyes, Ōka smiled mischievously. In a somewhat theatrical tone—

“By Yō-chan officially deciding to join the pack, Shō-kun’s overall strength improved dramatically.”

“Huh? What’s that?”

Ōka ran a quill pen across her notebook, drawing two small circles and one large circle. Then pointing at the small circles with the pen tip—

“Dragonkin male status is determined by individual ability and—”

Now pointing at the large circle—

“Pack overall strength.”

(Come to think of it…)

He recalled the conversation exchanged with the Princess the other day.

To obtain a noble rank, the pack scale must exceed a certain number.

“Pack overall strength… something about pack independence, was it?”

At the muttered words, Ōka widened her large eyes.

Was it that surprising? Though the Princess had just taught him, Kishō couldn’t act superior either.

“Economic power, military power. Basically close to the concept of national power, right?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised. That Shō-kun would take interest in dragonkin culture.”

It wasn’t like he was interested. He’d apparently been influenced by the Princess without realizing.

“What nobles assume is what Shō-kun just said. But the overall strength students talk about is a bit different.”

According to Ōka, the pack overall strength students referred to was apparently the sum of individual abilities of dragonkin belonging added together.

“So Shō-kun’s pack housing Yō-chan gained that much value.”

Normally, male students’ status was determined by individual ability—academy grades—and didn’t include pack evaluation. But simultaneously with engagement, the status of “man chosen by the noble Princess” was granted, overturning that common sense, apparently.

“So what? My evaluation rose by the amount of Kuroyō’s evaluation?”

“Exactly!”

There Kishō finally realized the true identity of the sense of wrongness he’d felt earlier.

“I see. Eyes. Everyone passing by wasn’t looking with contemptuous eyes. That’s why I felt wrong.”

“Well yeah. Since overall strength is Yō-chan herself, they can’t look down on you.”

The Princess was Upper School valedictorian. If that Princess’s absurdly high evaluation was added to him, certainly they couldn’t look down. Self-evident truth.

At that point, Kishō noticed Ōka was suppressing laughter. And that her words contained implications.

“Wait wait. That way of putting it makes me sound like air.”

“Because that’s actually true.”

Hehe, Ōka smiled happily.

At that innocent smile, his venom was drawn out and Kishō lost the will to argue. Instead, he revealed his complex feelings:

“Somehow I feel like a fox borrowing the tiger’s authority.”

Even Kishō wasn’t being despised because he liked it. If female students’ responses softened, nothing could be better. However, that wasn’t something he himself had won, merely a benefit granted by the Princess.

(Relying entirely on the girl I like feels somehow wrong.)

Did male pride make him think so? The word “kept man” crossed his mind.

As if exasperated, Ōka lowered her eyelids halfway in a half-lidded look.

“That’s human sensibility! Shō-kun is master and Yō-chan is subordinate. You have to think of it as having the capacity to command excellent girls.”

If this were Seikan, he’d probably sit imposingly and declare confidently “Naturally.” Precisely because he could vividly imagine that figure, Kishō let out a wry smile.

“You think so?”

“I do!”

Ōka tightly gripped both hands and nodded vigorously.

Half-dragonkin Kishō was closer to human sensibilities. So it didn’t quite sit right, but still, that it didn’t feel bad—was that because of dragonkin blood?

“But if my evaluation rose relatively, why isn’t anyone attacking?”

The mock battle was held at the first semester’s end.

When he’d drawn with the Princess, he’d received fierce attacks from nearly ten female students. From that sensation, current reactions felt too thin. Rather, they’d even avoided him earlier.

Ōka, who couldn’t possibly know such circumstances, floated a triumphant smile. That appearance transformed into something demonic.

“Ah! Shō-kun finally feels like making a harem!”

“No way!? It’s pure curiosity.”

Watching Kishō deny with a bright red face with amusement, Ōka proudly raised her index finger. Skillfully making a sharp face—

“There’s a phrase ‘above one’s station.’ Whose line was that again?”

“Poking at people’s dark history isn’t good taste.”

Recalling his foolish self who’d rejected the Princess, a sour expression floated on Kishō’s face. As if blowing away that dark clouded expression, Ōka’s bright voice said:

“That’s not it! Packs normally form between males and females of similar ability. So with Yō-chan joining, Shō-kun’s pack became an unattainable flower! That’s why Shō-kun isn’t popular. Too bad!”

Ōka grinned somewhat proudly.

But something didn’t sit right, and Kishō tilted his head.

“Unattainable flower—even though my ability hasn’t changed, that’s a strange story.”

He suddenly remembered. When opening the classroom door, the female students’ shocked faces. Thinking about it now, those eyes held colors of fear, emotions of awe.

“It’s strange to be recognized as higher rank just from becoming engaged to Kuroyō, but the moment they recognized that, this time they feared being the ones looked down on, didn’t they?”

“Mm, that’s probably also there.”

Sighing, Kishō nodded.

“I thought so. If elevated to an object of admiration, they wouldn’t make frightened eyes.”

“Mm, well that part depends on Shō-kun too. If you show an openly accepting attitude, you’d have your pick.”

Perhaps from same-gender fellowship, Ōka desperately added follow-up. Though her true intent was unclear, either way, Kishō’s answer was decided.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Oh come on! Acting tough!”

“I’m not acting tough. There’s no way I can get along now with people who looked down on me. Even if they gathered, it’d just be annoying.”

The Princess would probably say something like “lost lambs”—but unfortunately Kishō wasn’t a philanthropist. And he had no interest in the duty of powerful dragonkin. What was important to him was repaying Ōka’s kindness for supporting him in his hardest time. And answering the trust of the Princess who believed in this dropout and tried to entrust everything to him.

These two things were important. These two people were precious.

So he had no interest in other female students.

At that moment—

The classroom door slid smoothly and an invisible person entered. No, wrong. Lowering his gaze a bit more, Instructor Fūga’s bun head and green dragon robe entered view. The students’ clamor filling the classroom stopped precisely.

Instructor Fūga stood before the platform as is. But her height was overwhelmingly insufficient. Becoming completely hidden by the platform, her figure disappeared from view.

New moon?—Kishō imagined rudely.

As if reproaching that inner voice, Instructor Fūga raised a loud voice:

“Well then! Let’s begin the history lesson!”