Chapter 1: Elliot Freegan
“——……Damn it!!”
The man who kicked the trash can down the hallway in a fit of rage was Kevin Roberts, a second-year student of Class 2-A at Crawford Academy of Magic.
“That bastard… I wanna kill him!! Damn it!! Shit!!”
Kevin’s eyes were bloodshot as he roughly ran his hands through his slicked-back hair, stomping through the scattered trash.
“That damn jerk… Just thinking about him pisses me off to my core…”
“Seriously, that condescending attitude of his grates on my nerves…!!”
Kicking aside the litter as they walked, Kevin’s classmates, Som and Dominic, followed closely behind him.
It was after class, and as the trio made their way back to the dormitory, their expressions were thick with fury and humiliation.
The reason these three elite students—who ranked among the top of their class—were in such a state had unfolded roughly two hours earlier…
During today’s practical class, Kevin, Som, and Dominic had schemed to humiliate their classmate, Alphonse Fried.
Though they had despised Alphonse since enrollment, he had recently become the academy’s hero after the dragon attack incident—something that disgusted them. Seeking to vent their frustrations, the three had devised a petty plan.
But despite stacking the odds overwhelmingly in their favor, they had been utterly crushed.
Not only did their plan fail spectacularly, but they were also beaten down—forced to confront the staggering gap in skill between them and Alphonse. To make matters worse, the once-timid Alphonse, who had always cowered under their malice, now stood tall and defiant, declaring he would no longer back down.
This unexpected retaliation from their usual punching bag left them drowning in even greater humiliation.
“—Damn it, that bastard…!! How… how do we… Aaaaagh, damn it!!”
Kevin racked his brain for some way to get back at Alphonse.
But after losing even with every advantage, he was painfully aware of one fact: they were outmatched. All he could do was roar in frustration.
As the three stormed through the halls in this state, they turned a corner—only to collide with a short male student coming from the opposite direction.
“……Tch!”
“A-ahh…!!”
The petite student—barely 140 centimeters tall—dropped the buckets he was carrying from the impact. The liquid inside splashed out, soaking Kevin’s pants.
Worse, some of it splattered onto Som and Dominic’s clothes as well.
“Uwah!”
“Eugh, gross!”
The brown, dirty water elicited disgusted shouts from the two.
As for Kevin—
“……Hah?”
His voice was ice-cold.
“Hey, runt! You screwing with me?!”
“What the hell, man?!”
“S-sorry!! I’m really sorry!!”
Frantically apologizing, the small-statured boy crouched at Kevin’s feet.
“I’m really sorry……!! L-let me clean it up for ya, please…!!”
Sweating profusely, he began scrubbing Kevin’s pants with his own uniform sleeve.
“The hell’s wrong with you…? Seriously, who the hell do you think you are…?”
Ignoring the boy’s desperate apologies and the sticky hands pawing at his legs, Kevin simply sighed, lowering his head as he tore at his hair.
“!! Ah… um… I-I really am sorr—”
Before the boy could finish, Kevin grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up.
“Ghk—!!”
Slamming the boy against the hallway wall, Kevin glared at him with bloodshot eyes.
“Listen here, shrimp… You and I need to have a little chat.”
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“—You’ve gotta be kidding me!! You piece of shit!!”
“Ugh… I-it hurts…”
Behind a deserted building, angry shouts and pained groans echoed.
Pinned against the wall by his shoulders, the small boy took a brutal knee to the gut before crumpling to the ground with a whimper.
“You damn runt, you ruined my uniform and shoes, you trash!!”
Kevin mercilessly stomped on the boy’s head, grinding his shoe into his skull.
“Ugh… I-I’m sorry…!! I-I’ll clean your shoes too, … Please… forgive me…”
Tears streamed down the boy’s face as he endured the pain, his face pressed into the dirt while he pleaded desperately.
“Shut the hell up, trash!! A D-Class nobody like you has no right pissing off an A-Class elite like me!!”
“Ngh… ugh…”
At Crawford Academy, each class was distinguished by the color of the trim on their uniforms: red for A-Class, blue for B-Class, gray for C-Class. And for D-Class—the lowest-ranked students—there was no trim at all.
Noticing the boy’s untrimmed uniform, Kevin sneered. But then—
“Wait, hold on… this…”
Dominic was the one who spoke up. He had noticed something unusual on the boy’s uniform—instead of a trim, it bore a badge.
“This emblem… This guy’s a scholarship student…!!”
“Huh? Seriously?”
“This shrimp?!”
A scholarship student—a title granted to those with exceptional magical abilities deemed valuable to the nation. These students received special privileges, including a unique badge on their uniforms.
And sure enough, the small boy now cowering at their feet had one such badge pinned to his collar.
As if remembering something, Dominic continued.
“Now that I think about it… Didn’t a first-year scholarship student enroll this year? Some dwarf half-breed with weapon-forging magic or something. This must be him.”
“…Yeah, now that you mention it, he’s tiny, and his ears are kinda pointy.”
“…And his skin’s all dirty. So you’re another damn half-breed, huh?”
Kevin spat the words with disgust, his mind flashing to another detestable half-breed—Alphonse.
Just as Dominic had deduced, the boy was Elliot Freegan, a dwarven Half-Demi and the academy’s newest scholarship student.
Dwarves were known for their pointed ears, large noses, and stout frames—but above all, they were famed as master blacksmiths.
Elliot was descended from a legendary dwarven craftsman, and by fifteen, he already possessed world-class skill in weapon-forging magic.
However, due to the nature of his innate magical affinity, his expertise was strictly limited to weapon enchantment. Outside of his specialized curriculum, he struggled to keep up with even the most basic magic classes—barely scraping by in D-Class.
So while he bore the title of scholarship student, Elliot had no combat ability whatsoever. Right now, he had no way to fight back against Kevin and his cronies.
“Pisses me off… A weakling like you gets better treatment than us elite students?!”
“Ngh…!! I-it hurts, …!”
A brutal kick sent Elliot sprawling.
“Ugh… hic… I-I’m sorry… really sorry, …!”
Covered in mud, Elliot pressed his forehead to the ground, desperately repeating his apologies.
“You think some half-assed apology’s gonna cut it, idiot?! You really had to push me when I was already pissed?!”
Kevin didn’t even bother acknowledging Elliot’s sincerity.
“Oh? Hey, let’s see what’s in that bag. Maybe there’s something fun in there.”
“Ah—!?”
Dominic snatched the bag Elliot had been carrying.
“P-please, no…!! Not that…!! That’s…—”
“Keep your filthy hands off it!!”
“Guh—!!”
Dominic kicked Elliot away as he desperately reached for the bag.
Turning it upside down, he dumped its contents—hammers of various sizes, metal clamps, a dirty black cloth, a small broom-like tool, vials of oil—onto the ground.
“Hah? What is this garbage? Boring.”
Dominic scoffed.
“Hmm? What’s this?”
“N-no…!! Not that one…!!”
Som picked up a long, cloth-wrapped object—about thirty centimeters in length. Elliot’s voice was frantic.
“What is this…? A knife?”
Unwrapping the cloth revealed a poorly crafted shortblade.
“Oh-ho, what’s this?”
“Damn, that’s one ugly blade. Haha! The edge and hilt are all rough!”
“Looks like a kid’s arts-and-crafts project.”
The three burst into laughter at the shoddy weapon.
“Hey, don’t tell me this is the kinda crap you forge?”
“Hell, even I could make something like this! Hahaha!”
“A weapon-forging scholarship student… Pfft, what a joke.”
They turned their mocking grins toward Elliot.
“P-please, …!! D-don’t touch that…!!”
“……!”
Still on the ground, Elliot desperately crawled toward them, his expression more frantic than ever. Seeing this, Kevin smirked.
“Whoops, my hand slipped.”
“Aah…!!”
Kevin theatrically dropped the dagger he’d snatched from Som, deliberately stomping on it.
“Whoa, what’s this? Trash underfoot.”
“Heh. Brutal.”
“Please, have mercy…! Hic… P-Please stop stepping on it…!!”
With a face twisted in anguish, Elliot desperately pleaded.
“(Heh. Perfect stress relief.)”
Seeing Elliot’s desperation, Kevin’s lips curled into an amused grin.
“A weapon-smithing prodigy like you wouldn’t forge such a piece of junk, right? Oh, wait—guess this is a failure.”
“S-Stop…!”
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