The Gloomy and Timid Princess Heads to the Academy

Chapter 7




Although I wasn’t publicly humiliated or excluded, the atmosphere had already deteriorated beyond repair.

The children casting furtive glances and whispering about me were silenced by Instructor Georg’s shout, but he couldn’t suppress the emotions hidden within.

I felt like I might plunge into panic, surrounded by the overwhelming embarrassment cloaked in occasional hostility and blatant interest.

As if my stomach wasn’t churning enough already, the thought of having to exercise in this state was enough to make my mind reel. I might actually throw up.

Regardless of my feelings, the instructor continued with the class.

“…There was a bit of a commotion, but I want to ask you all something. Are there any students who know how to perform mana breathing techniques? If so, please raise your hands.”

A few male and female students holding weapons raised their hands, but it was only a handful—barely enough to count on both hands. The noticeably smaller girl raised her hand too, but there was nothing particularly special about it.

Not as many as I expected. In typical novels, even the likes of dogs and cats manage to use it. I was surprised since I’ve seen even bandit leaders using it, albeit clumsily.

“Then are there any students who are able to wield offensive magic?”

While there had been quite a few just moments ago, this time there were far fewer hands raised—about three, perhaps? What bothered me was the explicit distinction of “offensive magic.” Was that to say that healing or defensive magic wouldn’t be recognized?

Of course, I didn’t raise my hand even once. There was no way I could cast or control anything magical just by being nearby.

About half the students did not raise their hands. So, does that mean half of the kids here are just average folk?

“Students who raised their hands don’t need to attend my class. If you can handle either of the two, there’s no need to sit in for my lectures.”

With that unexpected bombshell, the previously quiet atmosphere became noisy. But with the next utterance, it quieted down once again.

“My class is for those who didn’t raise their hands. For those without exceptional strength. For those who cannot cast spells to retaliate when faced with an enemy. This is an education for those weaker ones.”

Some of the students who raised their hands immediately left the gym upon hearing they didn’t need to stay, while about half remained, not abandoning the class.

“Are you not going to leave? In that case, you can stay. But do keep in mind it could be boring. Now, I’d like to ask you all once more: Why do you think I teach physical education?”

There were many things everyone wanted to say, but it seemed like they couldn’t muster the courage to speak up in the oppressive atmosphere. Regardless, the instructor had already drawn enough attention to himself, and the gazes directed at me noticeably lessened.

Thanks to that, I could breathe a little easier. Since the socially awkward types are the sort who suffocate at the attention of just one person, I mentally thanked the instructor.

It was hard-earned training from my father that brought me to the point where I could handle interactions without twitching, but honestly, if someone had spoken to me earlier, I could have collapsed right then and there.

By the way, is there actually a reason to teach physical education? Isn’t it just a subject thrown in as an excuse to let students have some fun or keep them healthy, only to turn it into a self-study hour once the second semester starts?

I wasn’t sure if that logic would apply in this fantasy world, but at least in my understanding, that’s how it worked. You do some warm-ups, then mostly rush off to play soccer or basketball, while the leftovers huddle together, gossiping about anime or games in the shade.

And there I was, alone. I wouldn’t make ridiculous excuses. I was terrified of fitting in anywhere. After I joined a soccer group out of obligation because of a teacher’s insistence and ended up making a mess of it, the teacher stopped urging me to join.

I couldn’t possibly fit in with those losers. I was someone who only read novels. The fleeting interest I had in the anime and webtoons I tried to watch faded within a week.

For someone like me, who couldn’t fit in with any group, physical education was just a time to read novels while soaking up sunlight. Was there any meaning in such a subject?

“It’s to teach you how to survive. So now, I’d like to ask the students who didn’t raise their hands: What would you do if a band of thieves suddenly attacked?”

“I would fight back.”

A sturdy-looking male student responded boldly. Georg looked at him as if he’d hit the jackpot. He seemed to flinch a moment but didn’t appear overly intimidated.

“Do you have the strength to fight back against them?”

The student merely shut his mouth defiantly, showing no sign of wanting to answer.

“Courage without strength is just folly. People might tell you to stand and fight instead of running away, talking about chivalry and all, but who will a weakling protect?”

It seemed the continuous insistence on calling them weak was irking him, as the student spoke up with slight annoyance.

“But that’s—!”

“Do you wish to say it’s cowardly? Speak your name, student.”

“…I’m Daniel.”

It was amusing to see a male student glaring at the instructor as if he had never been scared, laughing mockingly as Georg pulled out a black cube with a handle. It was a strange object with a handle much larger than the cube itself.

I didn’t know its purpose, but I could guess where it had come from.

Inventory. But such a convenient ability usually isn’t given to side characters, is it? Judging from the voices around me filled with confusion about spatial pockets or whatever, I felt I was right.

“Then, Daniel, take this. If you can handle it, I’ll consider you a person of strength.”

There was no way that what a muscular giant like him pulled out from a suspicious space would be an ordinary object, but Daniel stepped up to Georg as if he were prepared.

Did he take offense at the mention of chivalry? Perhaps he was a noble aspiring to be a knight in this fantasy world. Standing before Georg with a serious posture, the instructor looked down at him as though it were amusing.

“Listen carefully.”

The moment Daniel received the cube, he slammed it into the ground. It didn’t seem intentional. The expression on his face and how he strutted up suggested he wouldn’t just plunge it into the ground like that.

It was more likely that the cube was just incredibly heavy.

“Are you exerting any strength, Daniel? Is that all the resolve you have?”

Wow, that was some harsh talk.

“No…!”

His face turned bright red as he abandoned all semblance of dignity while struggling to lift the palm-sized cube.

After wrestling with the cube for a while, Daniel ultimately seemed to run out of strength and let go of the handle, appearing as if he might collapse at any moment while kneeling on the floor. Georg looked down at him without a hint of emotion.

He was 100% giving him something that an ordinary student couldn’t lift. This was a bully of the highest caliber. Selecting words so carefully, it felt more military than academic.

I hoped it wouldn’t resemble a situation where falling behind meant a real consequence.

“Then, next student.”

The kids who had been looking at Daniel with taunting and pity turned their gazes fixedly on the instructor at his next words.

No student dared to ask any silly questions. But even without voicing it, their gazes were filled with resentment and despair.

“What are you doing? You there, female student, come forward.”

The expression looking at the unnamed female student trudging forward like a prisoner heading to the gallows wore two emotions: pity for what she’d have to lift and resignation that she, too, wouldn’t escape the same fate.

She seemed to be straining as if trying to produce a bizarre sound but made no headway at all. No student laughed at her struggles, knowing full well they would likely find themselves in the same position soon enough.

Naturally, none of the ordinary students could lift it. Everyone screamed their best efforts to lift it, but the cube simply laughed at their struggles, refusing to budge an inch.

For some reason, even though it was my turn, the instructor did not call on me. Instead, he began summoning the remaining students.

All the remaining students were those who could use mana breathing techniques. As soon as the magicians heard they were free to leave, they dashed out, but I figured they probably didn’t have the strength to handle that devilish cube.

However, the mana users might be a different story. In other stories, even those with small builds could hold their own against muscle-bound characters like Georg.

It seemed to align with my hopes to some extent when the first summoned student was able to lift the cube off the ground. He held it for about five seconds before he couldn’t take it anymore and let go.

With a thud, the cube sunk back into the ground, and the complaints of the regular kids erupted. But Georg didn’t seem to care, whether out of familiarity with their complaints or feeling they weren’t worth his time.

“Can I give it a try?”

Seeing the first student floundering, the blond Golden Sun raised his hand with a smug grin that oozed confidence. Even though he was called Golden Sun, he just seemed tanned with blond hair—could be a thug, who knows.

Wow, I can’t believe such a person actually exists. I momentarily marveled, but soon, the instructor called him up, seemingly accepting the challenge.

I didn’t know who this guy was, but he could very well be a rival pretending to be an antagonist. Nowadays, all Golden Sun characters seem to fit that trend.

It seemed his confidence was not without merit, as he lifted the cube higher than anyone else had so far, raising it all the way up to his knees and managing to hold it for a while.

Then, concluding that was enough, he tossed it down hard. The dust kicked up from the impact this time seemed right out of the floor.

With a look of relief, Golden Sun returned to his spot, and then the other students managed to lift it from the ground as well—everyone except for the noticeably smaller girl who had come up last.

What was this feeling that she seemed weaker than regular students, despite being someone who used mana breathing techniques? Seeing the small girl struggle desperately to lift the cube while making a forlorn face was quite painful.

Ultimately, she was the only one among the mana users who failed to lift it. Surrounding students seemed to comfort her, as if to lend support before she broke down sobbing.

So even with that look, she had friends to comfort her. I felt a slight pang of defeat.

That aside, Instructor Georg watched me intently, silently signaling his intent.

You’re last in line.


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