Mesugaki Tank Enters The Academy

Prete was on his way to the Allen Mansion, lost in thoughts about the song he would share with the bards.

How should he convey the tales of this esteemed figure, an Apostle of God and Daughter of Lord Jushin?

The Young Lady would surely detest the idea of her story becoming grandiose, but as an Apostle of the Goddess and a wanderer of the continent, he couldn’t possibly ignore her tale.

Everyone living on this continent is hoping to hear her story, after all.

Regardless, even if he did nothing, people would create and spread their own tales, mixing in their personal opinions, spinning false stories that would endlessly annoy Lady Allen.

To prevent that from happening, he had to quickly concoct and spread his version of the story.

Considering the authority he held among the bards, he could likely ward off considerable distortion.

“It must start from her childhood,” he mused.

Born with a curse, unloved by anyone, the child lost all her support before she could even grow up.

However, she didn’t crumble amidst the overwhelming despair.

She patiently awaited the Day of Beginning while recalling her pain in her heart.

Then one day, when everyone seemed to be forgetting the unfortunate girl, the child called by Lord Jushin stepped into the world again. To become a beam of light in the encroaching darkness.

“…Even if I only tell the tales I’ve heard from the God of History, there’s a wealth of stories to create.”

The girl, who struggled to even climb up the stairs, began her training.

At the end of that journey came recognition from the knights who had scorned her.

Trials faced in the first dungeon she ever visited, overcoming them to meet a long-forgotten hero.

The heroic act to save someone’s life during the academy entrance ceremony.

The daring act of risking herself for someone who tried to insult her.

Smiling in front of an enemy she could never defeat to protect her friend.

Her talent displayed at the Academy.

Rescuing a woman captured by the Evil God of Fire and re-sealing the Evil God of Fire who was about to awaken.

Saving a territory on the brink of being consumed by darkness.

Each and every one of these events could fill the biography of a hero.

Yet, the Young Lady possessed countless stories like these.

And curiously enough, the tales listed above were merely memories from the past year.

The stories of the era when she seriously aimed to become the savior of the world hadn’t even begun.

How could he possibly set all this to song?

Even if the bard settled down and sang all day, it felt impossible to convey the tale of her exploits.

Lost in thought, Prete arrived at the Allen Mansion and greeted the guards before stepping inside.

“Whoaah! Mama! Papa!”

And then he saw it.

Lucy, weeping in the embrace of Benedict and Armadi.

Seeing the girl sobbing in her parents’ arms made Prete realize that no matter how great a hero one might be, in the end, they are still human.

No matter how grand their achievements are.

Even the noble person who has emerged from a thorny path to achieve something.

Even the one who bears the divine blood.

When all façades are stripped away, they are just human.

An ordinary person who smiles when happy and cries when sad.

Having this realization inspired Prete for the work he would create.

A story of a human who becomes a hero and then returns to being human.

This was it. With this, he could create songs endlessly. But was that all?

Thoughts flooded in on how to pen this poem, making it unbearable.

…Ah, right! First, he must capture the scene before his eyes!

So he wouldn’t forget this inspiration for a lifetime!

As he pulled out his canvas, blocking out the surroundings, the suddenly red-eyed Lucy charged at him. Thus, once again, a human figure was etched into the mansion’s walls.

*

Prete, you insane pervert! What are you doing, pulling out a canvas the moment you see someone crying!? I was seriously ticked off and instinctively reached out!

“Erin, please listen carefully. This is something I learned from the Goddess…”

The Perverted Apostle, whose nose was stuffed with tissue from getting punched, was now smiling widely, disregarding his own injuries to teach Erin.

And that attitude only served to annoy me further. Regardless of my anger, his response felt overly excessive.

If I show even a hint of displeasure, he ought to apologize, but he strutted around like getting punched was some badge of honor!

As I grumbled internally, the Perverted Apostle finished up my makeup and quietly stepped back.

Then, with a gentle smile, he spoke to me.

“Lady.”

“…What is it?”

“Please smile for me. I’ve always thought that you look the prettiest when you smile.”

“Ha. Is that your way of flirting? How old-fashioned.”

“No, I would never dare to express such a thing to you. Even if I harbored such intentions, I would do so in a more subtle manner. I’ve merely spoken my truth. I hope to capture you smiling in my portrait.”

Once he left with a reminder to come back once he was ready, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror.

A face that, no matter how many times I saw it, would evoke admiration—a doll-like appearance that differed entirely from my former self.

Ever since Mama told me that I was Lucy, I’ve been pondering.

Could it be that I only exist as a fantasy in my memories?

Even now, the memories that feel familiar belong to this world, while those far away resonate with Lucy’s life.

Even though I understood with my head, my heart found it hard to accept.

However, since dwelling on it wouldn’t yield answers, I simply set it aside and focused on what needed to be done.

In hindsight, that choice was right.

After meeting my friends and those who were close to me, now that I returned to the Allen Mansion, I was able to conclude regarding myself.

One way or another, I am me.

The girl named Lucy Allen, who endured pain and lived with a curse, is me.

The man who dedicated his life beyond the monitor in another world, is also me. I still love Mama and Papa.

I find enjoyment in teasing and angering others. I also love sweet and beautiful things.

I can’t help but feel immense joy conversing with my friends.

…I even thought I looked pretty good in a dress just yesterday.

Just like a normal girl in this age might.

On the flip side, I love the dungeons that exist in this world.

I’m planning to step into places I’ve yet to explore and fantasizing about creating dungeons that would give others headaches.

And I’m truly keen on getting stronger.

Even now that everything’s settled, I have no intention of slacking off in training; rather, I will to wield my weapon relentlessly to reach those I couldn’t defeat.

And despite a busy schedule, I’ll step into the places I couldn’t explore in this world.

If the previous Lucy had been the only one here, I wouldn’t have thought like this.

But now, I’m intrigued by exploring the world of Soul Academy, just like my outside-of-monitor self.

Can I deny any one of these feelings? Is it possible to declare one as false?

I continued to ponder, but my conclusion was that it’s impossible.

In the end, both are what I desire.

Denying one will not lighten my heart; if anything, it would only make my feet heavy as shadows.

So.

I will embrace both.

Rather than regret giving something up, I will choose both.

What’s the big deal? After all, a Mesugaki is just a greedy little brat, right?

Thinking harder reveals that the wishes of both don’t conflict.

I can go on a journey with friends, eat delicious food, and then dive into a dungeon.

I can wear pretty armor and accessories, achieving satisfaction even in battle.

I can stomp on those who don’t know their place, fulfilling both my sense of achievement and sadistic tendencies.

Without giving up, I can live as I am.

As Lucy. As the one who came from afar.

“Erin, how does my smile look now?”

“It’s more beautiful than ever, Young Lady.”

“Right?”

With a playful smile, I stood up and, with Erin’s help, adjusted my clothes before heading to the reception room.

As soon as Mama and Papa saw me, they rushed forward, anxiously checking my expression.

It seemed they were still concerned about the tears I had shed moments ago.

“Lucy, are you okay? You can rest a bit longer if you want.”

“That’s right, Lucy. I can make as much time as you need. So there’s no need to push yourself.”

“How many times do I have to say it? I’m fine!”

“But…”

“However…”

“It’s more annoying that Mama and Papa are fussing like this!”

I explained that the tears were of joy, yet they continued their concern. I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if I cried due to some bad person.

Surely, while Papa would maintain his boundaries, Mama might obliterate that perpetrator from existence.

“Then, could the three of you stand in the middle? I want to finish this piece entirely on my own, as I wish to proceed before the Goddess arrives.”

Without any prior discussion, Mama and Papa naturally took their places on either side of the chairs.

And with gentle smiles, they looked at me.

[It seems you truly suit being in the center.]

‘Ahahaha. Yeah, I guess so.’

As I let out a silly laugh and sat down, Mama and Papa’s hands rested on my shoulders.

Feeling warmth bubbling up from deep inside, I discreetly glanced at the fairy’s view of us.

There was a moment of a normal, harmonious family.

A mundane scene that I had lost long ago and only just retrieved now.

---