Doggone Academy

“What’s Azelis? Is that your hometown?”

“No. Azelis Clovine Da Vir Tebris. That’s my real name.”

Damian recalled the saying that nobility of significant standing often had longer names, in contrast to the shorter names of orphans. He could guess that Trisha hailed from a highly prestigious family.

On one hand, revealing her true name implied a level of trust received. Damian felt a mix of gratitude for Trisha’s openness, yet also a sense of burden.

Becoming closer meant sharing one’s true self, inclusive of the past.

“I like Trisha. Azelis is nice, too.”

“If you can’t remember my full name, you can’t come into our house!”

“…”

“Our home is huge. You could spend a week just exploring it and still not see everything. Plenty of food too.”

“Daughter of a rich family, I see.”

“Right. You’d do well to make a good impression on me.”

As they neared the campsite, Damian warned Trisha.

“We’re almost back. Don’t talk.”

Trisha energetically responded, sounding cheerier.

“Okay!”

It was necessary to maintain a brusque demeanor with Trisha in front of the others.

If the two of them returned from disappearance acting overly friendly, it would surely arouse suspicion.

Thirty steps from the campsite, Damian seated Trisha on a nearby rock.

“Wait here.”

He was about to turn back to fetch a potion from the camp when he locked eyes with Luna’s wolf.

“……?”

The wolf sat quietly amidst the bushes, watching Damian and Trisha intently.

Impossible to tell how long it had been observing, but it was clear it had been looking for Damian. The wolf signaled him to follow, bouncing its paws excitedly.

***

Crows circled the sky, eyeing the lizard corpses sprawled throughout the valley.

“Turned this place into mush.”

Professor Candinella, hands clasped behind her back, surveyed the devastated valley.

Beside her walked a girl with pointed ears, wearing a wooden mask.

“Do you think he has the ability to encounter the Familiar?”

“It’s unpredictable. Skill alone isn’t enough to meet the Familiar; luck plays a part too.”

Professor Candinella approached the carcass of the nameless dragon, examining marks on the body with keen interest.

The elf girl in the mask spoke from her side.

“He seems to have done the Circulatory System practice a few times already.”

Boldness to enter dangerous zones first was one thing, but gathering a heart was a sign of exceptional shrewdness.

“Right? Impressive, indeed.”

Candinella then muttered to herself.

“Ah, such a waste. It’s too much of a waste.”

“…What do you mean?”

“Oh? That boy.”

“You mean his skills are wasted?”

“Not exactly that,” Candinella said lightly, shaking her head with a smirk.

“I mean the boy. I could have taken him under my wing.”

The pointed-ear girl tilted her head slightly and asked.

“Taken him? How so?”

“Silveryn found that child in an uncharted area infested with ghouls. How did she manage to find him there? A curious encounter, isn’t it?”

“It does make me wonder about the whole story.”

“That place was originally meant for me to visit.”

“…”

“Things got complicated, and it ended up like this. Such an enigmatic child, gives me a feeling of missed opportunity whenever I think about it.”

Though she spoke lightly, as if joking, Candinella’s voice held a hint of regret.

One can never predict how the world turns. Even if Candinella had gone, there was no guarantee things would have unfolded as they did for Silveryn.

Candinella wasn’t one for holding onto what-ifs. She was one of Eternia’s leading figures, like Erzebeth or Morgus. Moreover, she was a hero who had helped stop the Great Disaster in the North.

Being capable of unearthing and cultivating talent from anywhere in the continent, she had the power and status to not want for anything.

Her interest in Damian meant she held him in high regard.

Candinella continued to check the beheaded monster’s carcass.

“I shouldn’t have spoken of such things. Disregard it. Having disciples is one of the greatest joys in life. I used to joke that Silveryn had everything but the luck to have disciples. I never expected to be wrong about that.”

“If you had gone to the holy city this time, there might have been another opportunity. I heard everything was turned upside down with the emergence of the heir to the holy sword…”

“You’re well-informed. How did you come across such sensitive information?”

“From the Knights… I heard about it while on a mission by chance.”

“Hmm, good timing then. They must have wanted to find that boy’s master when they gathered the heroes in the holy city.”

“I’ve heard that even Swordmasters cannot easily handle that holy sword, let alone wield it. So then…”

The girl hesitated, but Candinella stretched and gave her a clear answer.

“The exaggerations aren’t entirely false. I’ve seen its power with my own eyes. It’s a sword among the top ten in the entire continent, and only the chosen can wield it.”

The boy who obtained the holy sword was as good as acknowledged for his potential as a Swordmaster.

“Are you… not much interested in the holy sword, Professor?”

“I’ve already been to the holy city.”

“…?”

Candinella smiled at the girl as if in place of an explanation.

It was a look of knowing something but not being able to share.

“Let’s go. We might miss another fight if we stay here too long.”

***

By the time Damian arrived, everyone had already woken up at the campsite.

They all looked unwell. Marta and Bertang were particularly pale, and even Cecil was nervously biting her lip.

Cecil and Luna quickly approached when they spotted Damian.

“What’s going on?”

“Have you seen Trisha? The situation is urgent.”

I pointed towards where Trisha was resting.

“She twisted her ankle; she’s resting over there. Someone should go treat her.”

Cecil called Marta to go see to Trisha’s injury. It wasn’t just because Trisha was missing that they were upset; something else had clearly unsettled them.

Luna softly caught my sleeve and tugged it to draw attention.

“They’re coming…”

“Who is?”

“Sion. She’s approaching our camp without concealing her presence. I can’t tell her intentions.”

Not hiding the approach meant… It wasn’t a sneak attack but a direct confrontation.

Perhaps she assumed I wouldn’t avoid her.

Luna was calm, and rightly so—we were already mentally prepared.

In fact, the others shouldn’t be too worried. After today, we would split ways, and Sion would continue to pursue me, leaving Cecil’s group alone.

Cecil spoke with a face full of concern.

“Candy… you’re not in top shape, are you sure you can handle this? If it’s any help, we can band together to back you up.”

The loyalty was appreciated, but unnecessary. I shook my head.

I didn’t want to involve Trisha or the others in my fight.

“Luna and I will stay here to face Sion. As for the rest of you, this is where we part ways.”

“Candy…”

I shook my head again.

“You should leave.”

Reluctantly, Cecil signaled for Bertang, and he began to gather their belongings.

I sat in front of the dying campfire, throwing in more logs, and then took out the preserved heart meat to skewer. Preparing my stomach for the impending uproar.

Luna sat opposite me without questioning my actions and waited for the meal.

***

Sion had not rushed to approach. Despite having the chance the previous night, she had waited, preferring to face a fully rested Candy.

“…Fog.”

Approaching the location where Candy was, a thick mist enveloped the area. A damp and uncomfortable fog.

Walking through the mist for a while, Sion saw a bright red firelight barely visible through the white curtain.

Confirming she was close, Sion pulled out her demonsword, Silveryn.

Strength began to flow into her hands. She had been long awaiting this encounter.

Approaching the campfire, she saw a man in a mask sitting comfortably relaxed.

Leaning against a tree stump, one knee raised with his arm resting on it and the other leg stretched out—a picture of ease.

Sion greeted him first, with politeness.

“Hello.”

“…Hello.”

“The Nameless Dragon was your work? Impressive.”

“Why are you looking for me?”

Sion’s sword began to shimmer with a blue light.

“Well, I owe you. Plus, my master is very eager to see you.”

The masked man stood up, dusting the dirt off his clothes.

“That’s going to be problematic.”

“Don’t worry. Today, I’ll take off that mask of yours and save you the trouble of hiding who you are.”

“…”

The masked man watched Sion quietly with golden eyes.

He seemed to be smiling behind that mask.

Sion cut to the chase.

“Draw your sword.”

Under the force of the demonsword, the campfire flickered uncertainly before finally going out.

“If I draw my sword, one of your limbs is bound to get hurt.”

Sion faced him head-on with her challenge.

“No, it will be your limbs that are severed.”

“Your limbs are the ones to be cut off?”

“No, it’s you who’ll be cut.”

With a burst of heat, Sion activated her artifact and leaped toward him, sword in motion.

If he won’t draw, force him to—so she thought.

He immediately drew his wooden sword and blocked Sion’s attack.

Clang!

Damian countered, though Sion’s blow pushed him back quite a distance.

“I didn’t know you were such a talkative type.”

“…”

“Put away your toy and draw a real weapon.”

He shook his arm, seemingly numb from holding the sword.

Sion did not give him time to regroup.

She rushed him again, putting all her strength into another swing of her sword.

Clang!

A resounding clash loud enough to hurt the ears filled the air.

Damian, through instinctual reflex, deflected Sion’s blade but was once again driven back by sheer force, flying backward.

Barely regaining his balance with animalistic agility, he readjusted his stance.

Sion felt an odd sensation. Although it seemed she had the upper hand, there was no feeling of complete domination.