The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 16

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Weapon Duplicator of the Academy — Chapter 16
Part Four: Clubs
Constellation Academy was in the thick of club recruitment season.
Recruitment itself had begun when the first-years arrived, but they were now in the final stretch.
A week remained before the deadline, and both upperclassmen and freshmen alike buzzed with interest in the clubs.
Of course, Class 2—the most watched class at Constellation—was no exception.
“Elodie, have you joined a club yet?”
“…… Ah, what?”
When Aster asked Elodie, she feigned not to have heard him.
Aster patiently asked again.
“About clubs. The deadline’s coming up soon.”
“Well, nothing’s caught my interest, really.”
“Hmm, I see.”
Aster didn’t press further. It was his nature not to pry—his sincerity. This time, though, it worked against him.
Elodie hesitated before asking back.
“What about you?”
“I’m joining Mounted Combat. I haven’t learned the skill yet, but I heard they have Cassian here—an excellent horse breed for war.”
On the Palinde Continent, automobiles were the most common form of transport.
But in this world where mana and fantasy intertwined, an excellent horse surpassed them entirely.
Their raw power exceeded even a decent sedan, they possessed independent judgment and could even carry an unconscious rider to safety.
Cassian was an excellent breed that met all the criteria of such a steed—one of Constellation’s prides on the Central Continent.
“Ah, I see.”
Elodie spoke as though disinterested. And truthfully, she was not interested in Mounted Combat.
She was so uninterested that her plan to follow Aster into the same club had simply fallen apart.
Aster tilted his head quizzically.
“Whichever club you joined, they’d welcome you.”
“…… Ha, of course they would.”
Elodie answered coolly. It was the truth, after all.
From the first day of recruitment, she’d received countless invitations. Even today, she still received club pamphlets from time to time.
…… But going alone would only be lonely.
“Well, if you’re not interested in clubs, there’s nothing to be done.”
With that, Aster left.
Elodie clenched her hands hidden beneath her desk.
It’s not that I’m not interested!
It’s not that I’m not interested!!
Are you even listening?!
“…… Ugh.”
A heavy sigh escaped Elodie’s lips.
Elodie maintained harmonious relationships with those around her and got along with everyone. Because of this, it was hard to notice, but the truth was she had few friends.
The only people she could truly talk with were Aster Evans just now and Fondier.
It wasn’t that Elodie had a problem making friends. Rather, her abilities were so exceptional that it made friendship difficult.
The overwhelming Divine Power blessed by five gods, coupled with Lishaé, the noble house of the north.
She herself had no faults in appearance or conduct, her grades were outstanding, and she lacked the ordinary flaws everyone else possessed.
So while many—regardless of gender—showed her goodwill, most of it was admiration or longing rather than genuine friendship.
Flower on a Cliff. No one at Constellation was better suited to that epithet than her.
“…… But I’m not so different from others.”
Extraordinary talent and skill notwithstanding, she was only seventeen.
She thought like everyone else, felt joy like everyone else, and dreamed like everyone else.
Yet only Elodie herself believed this to be true.
“I’m not… lonely!”
Elodie blurted this out like a complaint before catching herself and changing her words.
I do have friends! There are just… fewer of them!
“…… Let me go home.”
What was she even doing here alone?
Joining a club at Constellation was optional. One didn’t have to join—one could simply be part of the Going Home Club.
Ortel, Elodie’s father, would be delighted. He cherished his daughter dearly.
…… Though Elodie hadn’t wanted to join the Going Home Club of her own accord.
Elodie made her way toward the academy gates, shuffling her feet.
When dismissal came, the family driver was always waiting with the car.
Her small wish was to join a club and tell the driver that her dismissal time had changed.
She’d practiced keeping a straight face, afraid her smile might slip, afraid the driver would see how happy she was.
“…….”
As she walked, it happened quite by accident.
Her gaze drifted toward the Training Room.
……The rumor going around lately was that he’d been coming to the Training Room every single day.
Another rumor had it that he’d entered a Dungeon and rescued a female student from his party.
Word was, he’d changed a little since before. That he was a different person now.
“Well, why not.”
She could go take a look—or rather, verify the rumor for herself.
Elodie pulled out her phone.
It wasn’t the reason she’d first intended, but she was going to let him know her school dismissal time had changed.
* * *
[In Use]
Number of users: 1
User: Fondier de Loarh
“No way.”
Elodie was genuinely impressed.
Fondier, of all people, in the Training Room.
Without anyone asking, he was doing self-directed practice!
“He never listened when I told him to do this.”
Elodie craned her neck, peering through the observation window.
Each private room had a mirror positioned so that from inside, it showed the outside, but from outside, it looked like a mirror.
It prevented people from watching the training while allowing those inside to see who’d arrived.
So normally, if someone showed their face at the mirror like this, the door would open and they’d come out—but.
“How much focus does it take that he won’t even come out?”
Could he really be ignoring her?
He saw her there and he’s just going to ignore her?
Now even he’s ignoring me? I don’t have a single friend left?
“Let’s see how long he can keep this up.”
Elodie moved away from the mirror and headed for the door.
The private room door had a buzzer button for people with business to alert whoever was inside.
Elodie planted herself in front of it and pressed the button with all her might—
Whoosh.
—before she could even finish, the door swung open.
“Huh.”
Elodie let out a startled, dazed sound.
There stood Fondier. His clothes were drenched with sweat from his collarbone down to his chest, and his torso rose and fell in a gentle swell from his pectoral muscles to his shoulders.
His entire face was slick with perspiration, and his wet lashes slowly veiled his eyes before opening again.
That already languid expression grew even more languid, and his lowered gaze sank deeper still.
Elodie blinked several times. She wondered if she’d wandered into the wrong room. Even though the person in front of her was unmistakably Fondier, she thought it.
Elodie drew in a breath. She had to say something. She couldn’t just stand there staring. Anything, just anything—
“……Y-you reek of sweat!”
She blurted it out.
By any measure, it was her quickest thinking all year.
Fondier let out a laugh as if he couldn’t believe it.
“What did you expect in a place like this? Unless you want me to shower first.”
“……I suppose that’s fair.”
“So what brings you here?”
Fondier wiped his face with a towel he’d prepared. Now he looked a bit more like the Fondier she knew.
Elodie felt a little better. Though she wasn’t sure what had improved.
“I heard you’d been coming to the Training Room a lot.”
“Yeah, well. I’m practicing.”
With that, Fondier moved to put his towel in a locker. As he stepped away, Elodie’s shoulders relaxed slightly.
……Ah. She’d been looking up at him.
It was only natural—Fondier was taller than her.
Completely natural, but for some reason.
“So you came to check? To see if I’m still training? Are you still worried about me?”
“Worried? What do you mean.”
Elodie tried to deny it outright. But she couldn’t find a better way to describe it.
Truth be told, she’d been worried about Fondier for a very long time now.
Elodie and Fondier had known each other since childhood.
Elodie had watched Fondier grow lazier over time, offering him counsel and advice for his sake, yet it all came to nothing.
But the Fondier standing before her now was different.
The Fondier who had refused to change despite Elodie’s sincere efforts—what on earth had transformed him?
What had prompted this change?
The impulse to know felt dangerously like jealousy, so Elodie had refrained from asking, at least until now.
Yet the question surfaced, and she asked.
“By the way, did you join any clubs?”
“No. Not interested. Don’t have the time anyway.”
“What about the Going Home Club?”
“Yeah.”
Fondier answered and drank water, towel in hand, water bottle at his side, even a personal locker nearby—clear evidence of frequent visits to the Training Room.
His answer was brief, but Elodie felt oddly reassured. It was as if she’d found an ally.
Then Fondier turned the question on her.
“What about you?”
“Me?”
Elodie was caught slightly off guard by his counter-question but fell back on her usual response.
“Well, I’m just not particularly interested in anything, you know.”
Fondier stopped drinking. He lowered the bottle and spoke.
“That’s a lie.”
“…What?”
“You want to do a club.”
Fondier spoke as if stating something as immutable as the earth’s rotation.
He said it with such utter certainty.
Elodie blinked, finding herself even more incredulous than before.
“What do you think you know about me?”
“I know. You’re like me.”
Elodie’s expression darkened.
What the hell is he talking about?
But what Fondier said next made Elodie freeze.
“You feel alone.”
“…!”
“Like you’re isolated in some distant place, unable to escape, convinced you never will.”
Fondier spoke in a measured tone.
That very evenness made Elodie’s blood run cold.
“Even when you talk to others and laugh, you think they don’t truly understand you.”
“…You,”
Elodie started to speak, then stopped, closing her mouth instead. The Fondier before her now was truly nothing like the rumors suggested—he seemed like someone else entirely.
Fondier had said Elodie was like him. In other words, what he was describing was meant for her, but also for himself.
“…I thought you didn’t care about such things.”
Human sloth—that was Fondier.
The epithet everyone knew, that he must have heard countless times himself.
Yet his expression remained unmoved, as if such things couldn’t wound him, as if the words were never meant for him at all.
…But.
Fondier said,
“You’re the same way.”
Yes.
“You pretend to be unbothered too.”
Like Fondier, Elodie hid it behind her expression. She feigned indifference.
Yet somehow, Fondier had seen through it.
“…Though you probably carry more weight than I do, so it must be far harder for you.”
Fondier simply shrugged.
But Elodie could not bring herself to believe she suffered more than Fondier did.
Least of all now, having glimpsed his inner world.
Elodie lifted her head.
Something lightened inside her.
Perhaps she had needed this simple comfort all along. Perhaps it was enough, as long as there was one person who understood her.
Trivial matters like club membership became irrelevant, and Elodie found she could smile.
“…Thank you. I feel better.”
She could never quite bring herself to say that his comfort had made everything all right—it was far too embarrassing.
“…….”
But Fondier was looking at Elodie. His expression remained as languid as ever, yet there was something equally cold about it.
“Join a club.”
“Forget it. I’d like to, but there’s no one to do it with.”
“You can make friends. You’re different from me.”
At those words, something flickered in Elodie’s eyes.
It was not something she wanted to hear. Especially not from Fondier. Not from him, after a conversation like this one.
Everyone treated her as though she were someone apart. There was no one who truly understood.
Was Fondier any different?
“……You said we were alike.”
Elodie spoke. Her voice emerged so frail she could hardly believe it was her own.
“Why? Why are you saying that too?”
Fondier closed his eyes for a moment. His shoulders fell. It seemed he was exhaling every breath he held inside.
“Because I know your solitude.”
“You’re just the same.”
“I have no choice. It’s something I did wrong, and there’s no undoing it.”
“…….”
“But you can change. In that sense, too, we are not alike.”
For someone uttering such words, Fondier was far too composed.
“At least do what you want, like I never could. Elodie.”
It sounded like a prayer.
A prayer offered to Elodie de Iniés Lishaé.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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