Invincible
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#184
🕑 Added 2025-01-15 15:18:04 +0000 UTCAcademy’s Downfall (2)
The students lying on the dirt groaned in agony.
"Starving... so hungry..."
"Professor, I don’t think I’m dying from pain—I’m dying from hunger."
I averted my gaze from their cracked lips and pale faces and turned to the professors.
"Just hold on a little longer. Seems like all the animals fled because of the explosion. It’s not easy to find any nearby."
"W-what about fish?"
"Those all got cooked to death."
No buildings, no food.
This place, teeming only with the sick, was no longer fit for humans to live in.
But the most absurd part was something else entirely.
"By the way, have you contacted our families?"
"Ahem. Well... uh..."
"What?"
"Ah, right! I just remembered something urgent I need to handle."
The professors avoided sending the students home, effectively stranding them in this wasteland.
"Professor, where are you going?"
"Get some rest."
"Answer me before you leave!"
The reason was simple.
There was no such thing as expulsion at Frostheart Academy.
Given the situation, the professors feared what would happen if this reached the parents.
They decided to drag things out as long as possible.
If word got out, it wasn’t impossible for families to send armed forces to raid the academy.
Thanks to this, the students were completely isolated.
To make matters worse, the academy’s location was so remote for security reasons that escaping on foot required a grueling journey.
Dorosian, however, was a different story.
—I need to step out for a bit to handle something.
She told me she’d be back shortly, then used a magic so powerful it distorted space-time, disappearing completely.
It was the high-speed teleportation spell meant for us to escape together.
Her "stepping out" was clearly just her deserting us.
Honestly, I’d love to make a run for it, even on foot.
But I had a painfully good reason why I couldn’t.
"...Brother, I feel awful."
I placed a cold, damp cloth on the forehead of Mircel, who was lying under my coat used as a blanket.
"Just hold on a little longer. I’ve made it clear that the medicine priority is yours."
Those working with Bellman to craft medicine had managed to salvage only the bare essentials.
Distillers and other large equipment were replaced with magic and manual labor, which slowed progress.
As soon as the medicine was ready, I begged Bellman to hand it over immediately and threatened the professors.
—And what did you say?
—I said I’d report you directly to my father."
For the professors, the most terrifying parent was Aol.
They’d prioritize providing us medicine and other conveniences to avoid his wrath.
"Ugh, young master, I need a cold cloth too."
Selly, lying nearby, whimpered.
I threw a wet cloth onto her face without hesitation.
Plop!
"Ugh! That’s too much! I’m already in pain!"
"And how much more do you expect me to do for you?"
This was originally Selly’s job as a servant.
She should be grateful I was even helping at all.
"Brother, me too, please."
This time, it was Erucel.
Sigh.
Taking care of three people was starting to drain me.
Still, as my siblings and my servant, abandoning them wasn’t an option.
"I said I need one too..."
Just then, a chilly wind began to blow, and I heard heavy footsteps.
It must’ve been Limberton, who’d gone hunting, and Aslay, who’d gone to fetch wood.
"...Cold cloth."
Lifting my head, I saw Limberton carrying a wild boar on his back.
Behind him, Aslay was hauling two massive logs on his shoulders.
After they dropped their haul on the ground, I drew my sword and began carving the logs.
Swish!
Though the blade was slightly cracked, the sharpness of the "Weakened Shadow Sword" made slicing the wood effortless.
I pulled out the ropes we’d prepared earlier—strips made from fabric salvaged from the ruins of a destroyed building.
Snap!
Aslay and Limberton picked up the trimmed logs.
I bound them tightly with telekinetic magic, repeating the process several times until a makeshift shelter was finally complete.
It was small and flimsy, likely to collapse with even a minor impact, but it was better than nothing.
"The wind is cold. Get inside."
I ushered Mircel and Selly into the shelter.
Erucel raised his trembling hand and complained.
"Brother... I'm cold too. Let me in."
"It's too cramped. You can’t."
"Then... what about a wet cloth?"
"There were only two."
I was already struggling as it was.
Grown men should fend for themselves.
***
I placed my hand on the foreheads of the two kids to check their fevers.
Whether they were improving or just completely drained, I wasn’t sure.
At least their faces had relaxed somewhat as they slept.
"Ah, you two have been through so much to get here."
I felt a pang of pity seeing how they had been dragged into so many incidents at such a young age.
Just as I reached for the lukewarm wet cloth to soak it in fresh cold water, a delicious aroma wafted into the shelter.
"Looks like it’s almost ready."
I stood up and stepped outside.
Mireille was crouched in front of a large stone cauldron, tending to a firewood blaze.
Thanks to her immunity, she hadn’t fallen ill like the others.
"How much longer?" I asked.
She straightened up, wiping sweat from her brow with a handkerchief.
"Five minutes left, young master."
The contents of the cauldron were the wild boar Limberton had hunted.
The well-prepared meat had absorbed the essence of various medicinal herbs and vegetables, turning a rich brown hue.
Wait—wasn’t that a poisonous plant?
From the hooked stems and curled leaves, there was no doubt.
As students trained to survive in the wilderness, we were all well-acquainted with poisonous plants.
"...Are you planning to poison the food here too?"
Mireille, slightly embarrassed, flushed and scooped some broth into a small dish, boldly sipping it in front of me.
"Even poisonous ingredients can be rendered edible with proper preparation—boiling, sun-drying, or neutralizing with other ingredients, for instance."
Apparently, she’d made the toxic edible.
Curious, I poured myself a small bowl of the soup and took a sip.
The exceptional flavor widened my eyes.
"Oh."
Considering that all our food supplies had been obliterated in the explosion, the fact she managed to gather and prepare this from scratch was impressive.
Mireille really was talented in the kitchen.
The thought crossed my mind—maybe I should learn cooking from her.
"Good. When you have time, teach me how to cook."
"Excuse me? You want to learn cooking, young master?"
"In the wilderness, I’ll have to cook for myself. It’ll be a useful skill to know."
She mulled over my request briefly, then nodded in agreement.
As the soup neared completion, I decided to bring some back into the shelter, but not before a cacophony of gulping noises filled the air around me.
"Ahh... it smells amazing."
"Looks so good."
The sick lay in their makeshift beds, staring longingly, while the healthier ones stood around, practically salivating.
Though I planned to share the food, the pot was far too small to feed the entire student body and staff.
"Wait your turn."
By now, night had fallen.
Those who had gone out to scavenge food were gradually returning.
They piled their findings near the cauldron and took seats nearby.
Almost all of it was greens.
As for meat, there were a few rabbits and squirrels—hardly enough for such a large group.
Still, knowing how far they had traveled to gather these supplies, I refrained from complaining.
But I couldn’t help voicing one thing.
"Who’s the genius who brought back rat meat?"
The culprit turned out to be Kerndel, another immune individual from the first division.
"What? I thought it was a squirrel!"
"...You can have it, senior."
I averted my eyes from Kerndel’s dubious expression and approached the boar hide that was drying near the fire.
I touched it to check for moisture.
It was pleasantly dry, with a faintly fresh scent thanks to the purification magic I’d used to remove any lingering odors.
"This will be perfect for them to lie on."
I headed toward the shelter where Mircel and Selly were resting.
Just then, I noticed Limberton and Aslay approaching from a distance.
When I saw the game they had strapped to their backs, I couldn’t help but grin.
"Impressive."
Hearing my praise, Limberton smiled shyly.
"We went all the way to the cliff to hunt these. There’s still a decent forest down below, so we climbed down to gather and haul this back. Aslay did most of the heavy lifting."
"It wasn’t difficult," Aslay said modestly. "But Limberton, your ability to track game is better than anyone in our tribe. Honestly, I’m amazed."
With this much food, everyone should be able to eat their fill for at least one day.
"Good work."
I slung the boar hide over my shoulder and made my way to the shelter.
Limberton called out as I walked.
"But, Hersel, how long do we have to live like this?"
"The headquarters will contact us soon. No, before that, we should receive supplies. It’s about time for the next shipment."
Frostheart Academy received regular supplies through the Orvella Trading Company, managed by the House of Arianne.
However, the letter Rockefeller had sent to headquarters would likely take time to process due to numerous bureaucratic procedures.
"When the trading company arrives, let me know what you need."
"But we don’t have any money."
"For now, I’ll put everything on my tab. Later, the costs will be deducted from your wages."
I had no currency accepted in the outside world, but the name of Tenest was a solid guarantee.
The trading company would happily allow credit, so we could afford to be generous with our requests.
However, Limberton’s previously excited expression suddenly turned gloomy.
"Speaking of wages... Hersel, what’s going to happen to all the coins we saved up?"
I ran a hand down my face, feeling a pang of frustration.
"...I was trying not to think about it, but you had to bring it up."
All those coins we had painstakingly collected were now worthless.
Many had been hidden in the dorms and destroyed, and even those that remained were just scraps of metal in this wasteland.
In a society where the economy and everything else had collapsed, we had become penniless once again, just like when we first enrolled.
I patted the shoulders of Limberton and Aslay, who looked utterly defeated.
"Cheer up. We’re starting over. We’ll rise again."
"...Hersel."
"Boss..."
Though I spoke words of encouragement, my heart was crying inside.
Oh, my coins.
***
Rockefeller stood in the training yard, observing the students.
Remaining silent was no longer an option.
He needed to provide direction so that the students could start seeing the academy as an educational institution again.
"While the current situation is challenging—"
But before he could continue, someone suddenly stood up and yelled,
"Shut up, Rockefeller!"
It was Hersel.
"What?! How dare you! Show some respect for your professor!"
Rockefeller roared, but Hersel smirked mockingly.
"Respect for professors? Don’t make me laugh. Even if the academy is restored, you’ll have no place here. You’ll be fired for sure. And yet you dare demand respect from me, knowing you’ll soon be a nobody?"
His tone was laced with scorn, but there was also a quiet, simmering anger.
Rockefeller wanted to clamp down on this challenge to his authority, but the students’ collective resentment was palpable.
He forced himself to regain composure despite the fury boiling within him.
"Fine. Fire me if you must. That’s likely what will happen. But know this—I’ll do everything in my power to fulfill my responsibilities until the very end."
It was a carefully measured statement, and Rockefeller was almost impressed with himself for coming up with it.
But then Hersel said something that should never have been uttered.
"Oh, really? Then I assume you’ll compensate us for all the coins we lost. Truly admirable, Professor Rockefeller. Your dedication to the very end is inspiring."
He even started clapping, encouraging the other students to join in.
The near-dead students suddenly came alive, and the healthy ones began cheering loudly.
Rockefeller shuddered as a chill ran down his spine.
‘...This brat.’
With the academy’s recovery still uncertain, any talk of compensation was nothing short of a pipe dream.
But surrounded by a crowd chanting "Coins! Coins!" at the top of their lungs, Rockefeller found himself unable to respond decisively.
"Co... Coins... Well, you see, the coins..."
Rockefeller’s career was rapidly spiraling into its greatest crisis yet.
