Frondier also fell into brief thought as he watched Glaukos.
'He hasn’t just lacked combat experience—he’s barely even been taught the basics of it.'
Every aspect of Glaukos’s stance was sloppy—attack, defense, everything. He had some rudimentary foundation, but even that looked freshly acquired. He must have lived a life completely unrelated to battle until coming to Atlas. Only now was he learning such things, so of course every part of him was unrefined.
'In other words, he’s producing that kind of strength and speed with a body that can’t even handle its own muscles properly.'
To exaggerate a little, Glaukos had simply rushed forward and roughly struck Pielot.
And that crude blow was something Pielot barely managed to block with his sword—only to have his body lifted and flung down.
'That’s not human strength.'
Of course, that power didn’t come from physical strength alone. Glaukos’s strike carried aura as well.
Frondier, sensing with his intuition, noticed that Glaukos’s aura was constantly being emitted outward. For an ordinary human, even releasing aura at all required significant training, so this was a strange phenomenon.
Most likely, Glaukos himself didn’t even know that his aura was being released. Which meant that aura was infused into his attacks and defenses, yet not actually controlled by him.
'So there are geniuses like that too.'
A talent who, without knowing how to use aura, unconsciously embeds it. To Pielot, known as a genius of aura manipulation, how must Glaukos look? And even setting aura aside, his raw strength was tremendous—so the shock to Pielot would be all the greater.
'And on top of that...'
Frondier then looked toward Ias.
A quiet yet violently shaking current of air—he was clearly shaken.
'Of all people, it had to be Glaukos.'
Glaukos.
A name that appears frequently in Greek mythology—but in this case, it could only mean one particular figure.
The brave warrior who was the grandson of the great hero Bellerophon, and a hero ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) in his own right. There had been a Glaukos even earlier in myth, but Frondier’s intuition told him it wasn’t that one.
Because there was something that connected this Glaukos to Ias.
'Ias and Glaukos—both were heroes who took part in the Trojan War.'
And though there’s a version where Glaukos is killed by Ias, it’s not clearly confirmed. As myths often are.
Either way, both names truly appeared in mythology—and likely, even if their appearances in this world differed, they would eventually become figures who play major roles somewhere.
'If I hadn’t come to this continent with my companions, Pielot wouldn’t have entered Atlas in the first place.'
Naturally, without Pielot as his rival, Ias would have been chosen as the class representative, and then it would have been him standing in Pielot’s place now—facing Glaukos.
I don’t believe in fate and all that, but looking at things this way, it did feel as if Frondier and those around him were disrupting the course this continent’s story was supposed to take.
Maybe Ias could sense that too.
And if events continued to mirror myth—a war or battle on the scale of the Trojan War, or even greater, might break out.
“...Ms. Carla.”
“Yes?”
After a moment’s thought, Frondier asked Carla,
“Antero is a Paladin, right? Paladins are royal knights, aren’t they?”
“I don’t know why you’re confirming something so obvious, but yes. Everyone knows that.”
Carla looked at him strangely, as if it were odd for him to act unfamiliar with the term. For people of this continent, it was common knowledge.
Frondier nodded.
“After Makia ends, I’d like to take a short vacation. Is that possible?”
“...Where are you planning to go?”
“......”
Frondier closed his mouth.
Then, as if suddenly thinking of something, he said,
“I just want to rest at home. I’m tired.”
“That didn’t sound at all like someone planning to stay home, just now.”
“The preparations for Makia, removing your curse, and fighting Antero—it all wore me out.”
“Ugh. If you put it like that, I can’t argue.”
Carla sighed. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she said,
“Fine. But on one condition.”
“...I’d prefer a vacation without conditions—as thanks for helping you, Ms. Carla.”
“I already gave you your reward. With the Whisper of the Wind.”
“...Right.”
As expected, when you gloss over things that way, it always comes back to bite you later. Another lesson learned for Frondier.
Resigned, he asked,
“What’s the condition?”
“Tell me who you are. What your real identity is. How you know so much—and yet sometimes know less than an ordinary person.”
Frondier almost shook his head at that. Letting people of this continent know too much about him was dangerous. The more his identity was revealed, the fewer places he could stay.
But then suddenly—
'...Right. Carla’s not so different.'
A being hiding her true identity and living in secrecy on this continent.
That was true of both Carla and Frondier.
Frondier said,
“Very well. But I have a condition too.”
“I’m the one setting terms here, and now you’re adding another one?”
“It’s nothing major.”
Frondier looked at her.
“Let’s shake hands, Ms. Carla.”
***
That night.
“E-excuse me...”
Carla entered with cautious steps.
Into Frondier’s room.
Inside, Frondier’s companions were already gathered.
“So this is the principal of Atlas?”
Arald asked with curious eyes.
“My, you’re truly beautiful. The rumors weren’t exaggerated—if anything, they fall short. I’m Arald.”
“Th-thank you. I’m Carla.”
Arald looked at her as though admiring a masterpiece in a museum. He meant the word beautiful in its most literal, dictionary sense.
Then Pielot bowed his head politely.
“My name is Pielot. I’m a third-year student at Atlas. It’s an honor to meet you.”
Pielot was looking at Carla with a kind of wonder.
And then—
“...Excuse me.”
Frondier’s eyes, cold as ice, turned toward the women’s side.
“How long are you going to just stare like that? You’ll scare her off.”
“......”
“......”
“......”
Elodie, Selena, and Riri were all staring at Carla with blank, statue-like eyes. Naturally, that made Carla herself tense up even more.
“...Nice to meet you. I’m Elodie,” Elodie said in a tone that sounded anything but pleased.
“I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Selena,” Selena said, as if she were learning the name just now for the first time.
“......”
Riri didn’t speak at all.
So Frondier prompted her.
“Riri, at least introduce yourself.”
As if remembering suddenly, Riri smiled brightly and said,
“Hello! I’m Riri. I’m Frondier’s servant.”
“What the hell are you saying?!”
“It’s not wrong.”
“How is that not wrong—huh?”
Frondier, ready to argue, found himself hesitating mid-sentence.
And in that moment, Elodie and Selena’s gazes toward him shifted noticeably.
'Just say it’s not true.'
That silent pressure.
“...She’s my companion, Ms. Carla. Not a servant.”
“R-right.”
Still not fully grasping the situation, Carla nodded.
“In any case, these are my companions. There are more elsewhere, of course.”
There were also the demons Arald had brought, but there was no need to introduce every single one.
Carla’s gaze moved around the room, lingering particularly on Elodie, Selena, and Riri.
“...Beautiful,” she breathed, eyes sparkling.
“Yes?”
“How are you all so beautiful?”
Carla approached Elodie and took her hands.
Elodie flinched back, startled.
“Ah, um?”
“I’ve never seen anyone this beautiful before. Your eyes—look at them. It’s like the very first lake born in this world is reflected inside them.”
“Wh-what?!”
The overly ornate, old-fashioned compliment made Elodie’s face flush red.
Meanwhile, Pielot, who had been watching Carla curiously from earlier, nodded as he looked between the two.
“How interesting.”
“What is?” Frondier asked beside him.
“Well, after seeing only ordinary students at Atlas and Constel, moments like this remind me...”
Pielot smiled at him.
“...that you always seem to have beautiful women around you, Senior Frondier.”
“...!”
Frondier’s face froze. A bombshell dropped by someone utterly oblivious to the atmosphere.
And then Pielot delivered the second strike.
“Senior, are you planning to keep every beauty who catches your eye by your side? Hahaha!”
“......”
Pielot clearly meant it as a joke—but that wasn’t how it sounded to the others.
Especially to Frondier, who thought,
'You really had to say that now?'
So this was how karma for using Pielot came back around.
“Told you.”
Elodie’s voice was icy.
“You are weak to women.”
A verdict spoken as though casting a curse.
'I’ve worked so hard just to avoid hearing that...'
He had, but of course, the others wouldn’t know that.
***
After deciding to shake hands with Carla, Frondier resolved to explain everything outright.
Carla too was an outsider on this continent. It was in her interest to belong to a group, and she had no reason to expose Frondier’s secrets.
So he began to explain—but quickly realized he didn’t know where to start.
And the first thing that came out of his mouth was,
“We’re outsiders too.”
“...Pardon?”
“Though it’s a little different in our case. We’re from another continent.”
“Another continent... So it really exists.”
Carla, who hadn’t even known of its existence, looked astonished. Most people of the Agoris continent probably didn’t know either.
From there, Frondier slowly explained their situation.
But to explain why they’d left their continent, he had to mention becoming enemies of the Empire. And to explain that, he had to tell her about divine intervention.
Tracing back reason after reason, the explanation grew.
“...And that’s how it happened.”
When he finished, Carla’s face was twisted in disbelief.
She blinked several times, eyes darting upward, then tilted her head, scratched her cheek, and finally said,
“So you’re saying, Frondier, you were branded a demon and became an enemy of the Empire, because Odin personally intervened—since you’d grown powerful enough to threaten him—and that happened after you stopped a war and defeated Belphegor, one of the Seven Deadly Sins... That’s the gist, right?”
“...Y-yes.”
Even Frondier himself could feel how absurd it all sounded.
It was a story based entirely on truth—yet still absurd.
“I want to ask if you’re serious, but judging by everyone’s faces... you really are.”
Carla glanced around the room.
It was understandable she’d find it unbelievable, but everyone else had seen and experienced it firsthand. It wasn’t something they could laugh off as a joke.
“So, are you planning to stop the war that’s going to happen here too, Frondier? Like you did on the last continent?”
Frondier told Carla about the possibility of a war breaking out on this continent as well—though he didn’t mention the specific name “Trojan War.”
But there, he shook his head.
“If the war that breaks out here is simply a conflict among humans, I won’t intervene.”
“Huh? Really?”
Elodie was the one who asked this time.
Frondier answered matter-of-factly.
“That’s their choice. I’m not some force of deterrence. I don’t plan to stop every war that happens in the world.”
Could Frondier alone stop every human war?
Even setting aside that possibility—he had no intention of doing so.
That wouldn’t be normal.
All he wanted was to clear the game.
“But.”
There, Frondier’s tone changed—or perhaps it returned to what it should be.
“If it’s not just a human conflict—if demons or gods are meddling behind the scenes...”
His face was calm.
At least, that was what he intended.
“...then I doubt they’d complain if I meddled right back.”
