Finally, the morning classes came to an end. As the bell rang, several professors clutched their lesson plans and left the classroom one after another.
Greg let out a sigh of relief and prepared to pack his things. He wanted to find a quiet place to rest or perhaps think about how to trick Vivian into exploring the dungeon with him—
"Student Greg!"
"Please, wait a moment!"
At least a dozen girls, who usually carried themselves with the reserved dignity of noble ladies, rose from their seats almost simultaneously as if they had rehearsed it. With smiles that were either enthusiastic, shy, or bold, they surged toward Greg's seat from all directions like a rising tide!
Their movements were so swift and their goal so clear that all the ladylike demeanor and elegant composure emphasized in their social etiquette classes completely vanished.
"Student Greg! Are you free this afternoon? My family is hosting a private afternoon tea party in the Rose District. It's just friends our age, and everyone really wants to meet you!"
"My family is hosting a ball at Rose Manor this weekend. My father specifically told me I must invite you! Please, do us the honor of attending!"
"Next Wednesday is my nineteenth birthday. My family is preparing a small celebratory dinner, and I... I really hope you can come!"
"Student Greg, I heard you've done some research on the Ancient Language? My family has a collection of fragments left by my grandfather. I wonder if you'd be interested in taking a look? Tonight, perhaps..."
The sweet, bird-like chirping of the girls instantly surrounded Greg.
The scents of various perfumes mixed with the unique, fresh fragrance of the young women, forming a dizzying, warm current.
Various exquisite, gold-embossed invitations bearing family crests were handed to him like snowflakes.
What made Greg's skin crawl even more was that almost every girl, while stuffing an invitation into his hand, would use their long, brightly polished fingernails to flirtatiously scratch his open palm with either the tip or the pad of their finger.
The sensation was initially cool and slightly ticklish. Combined with the girls' breath close to his face and their expectant gazes, it did make Greg's heart flutter slightly, giving him a bit of a secret thrill.
But then came the first, the second, the third...
By the time the fifth, sixth, and seventh girl's nails had scratched the exact same spot on his palm with almost the same angle and pressure...
That small thrill was rapidly replaced by a cumulative, stinging pain!
"Stop! Everyone, stop!"
Greg finally reached his limit. He abruptly pulled back his already reddening palm and raised his voice, trying to break free from the gentle encirclement.
"Ladies! Please keep your distance! I am a Disciplinary Committee member! Harassing a male is also—holy crap!"
Before he could finish his sentence, he felt his rear being slapped hard and fast from behind!
"Who?! Who was that just now?!"
Greg looked around, both angry and flustered.
The girls burst into a chorus of silver-bell-like laughter, exchanging glances. Instead of backing away, they seemed to find Greg's flustered reaction even more amusing, and the circle tightened further.
On the other side of the classroom, the boys, who already had complex feelings, watched as the goddesses they usually simped for—without ever receiving so much as a direct look—now enthusiastically and proactively engaged in a female rivalry over Greg.
Every one of them felt like their lungs were about to explode with rage.
"Tch! These women... they're truly as shallow as they come!"
A boy with curly brown hair gritted his teeth. "The loser performs well once, and they really treat him like a hero? They should look at his current status!"
"Exactly! He doesn't even have a noble title anymore! All he has left is that face and some hollow fame he got through god knows what kind of dumb luck. Is he really worth all this?"
Another tall, thin boy chimed in sourly. His eyes were fixed on a girl in a pink dress who was trying her best to squeeze closer to Greg; she had been his unattainable crush for half a year.
"Short-sighted! They have no long-term vision at all! What's the point of chasing him now? Once this hype dies down, won't he just be that same Greg Sass who has nothing?"
A third boy spoke up indignantly.
But just then, a boy who usually didn't say much suddenly spoke in a low voice, his tone carrying a hint of uncertain worry.
"Speaking of which... since Greg has proven himself this way and shown his value... will his family, the House of Sass, consider... taking him back? Maybe even... restoring his inheritance rights?"
"..........."
Those words were like a drop of ice water falling into a boiling pot of oil.
The boys who had been filled with righteous indignation just a moment ago instantly fell into a collective silence.
The expressions on their young faces shifted visibly from anger and disdain to shock and gravity, finally settling into a row of utterly dour faces.
Restoring... inheritance rights?
This possibility, which they hadn't considered before, struck their hearts like a heavy hammer.
Indeed, what did noble families value most?
Reputation, interests, and heirs who could continue the family's glory!
Greg used to be a waste and a disgrace, so it was only natural for him to be abandoned.
But now, he had shown enough strength to subjugate an Undead Knight alone, caused a stir in the academy, and even received public praise from a professor...
If Greg was truly recalled to his family and restored as the heir to the title...
He would once again possess a family background they could never hope to reach, combined with his own damn handsome looks and his current heroic reputation...
Then... what would they have left to compete with him?
It seemed... they would be completely crushed in every aspect...
An even deeper sense of powerless despair and jealousy, mixed with a strong feeling of defeat, quietly spread through the hearts of these boys, leaving only a mouth full of bitterness.
"Wait, why did it suddenly get so quiet?"
The boys suddenly noticed that the noise in the classroom had completely vanished at some point. Only a silence carrying an invisible pressure remained, rippling outward from the doorway like a wave.
The boys, who were immersed in their tragic visions of the future, looked up blankly.
Only then did they see a tall, cold figure standing silently at the classroom door.
Long, ice-blue hair flowed down her back like a pure glacial waterfall.
Her flawless features were currently clouded by a lingering shadow of fatigue, but this did not diminish the innate nobility and aloofness she radiated.
She simply stood there without any unnecessary movement or expression. Her ice-blue eyes calmly swept across the now-silent classroom, lingering for a brief moment on Greg, who was at the center of the circle of girls.
A heavy, low-pressure atmosphere seemed to follow her gaze, enveloping the entire room.
Rate on N.U.
