The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 176

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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 Academy’s Weapon Replicator, Episode 176
Chapter 57: Sacrifice (1)
Selena stood now in the stables of Constellation Academy.
An academy with an equestrian program naturally kept an impressive variety of mounts, and she had briefly worried whether she could find Cassian among them—but that concern proved baseless. True to Frontdier’s word, the moment she called out, a horse approached her. One look at its build and coloring confirmed it was Cassian.
Yet Selena had not mounted him.
“What in the world is this about?”
Selena cried out in frustration as she looked at Cassian. But the horse simply turned his head away from her with a sharp jerk.
Cassian had not yet granted her the privilege of his back.
‘He suspects me.’
Cold sweat beaded on Selena’s skin. She understood Cassian’s doubt well enough. She had come to him bearing this cloth only because Frontdier had commanded it, but Cassian could hardly know the circumstances behind that.
And so he suspected her. His gaze held a question: ‘Why are you the one carrying this cloth?’ It was written plainly in his eyes.
‘Cassian has a keen sense of smell. His superior intelligence means he processes the information his nose gathers with precision.’
Without thinking, Selena hid her hand behind her back.
‘… The scent of blood. It hasn’t washed away.’
Her hands bore far more blood than those of other students her age. And it was human blood—not the blood of monsters.
Especially of late, she had taken many lives while disposing of Indus’s subordinates.
Selena felt no particular guilt over the murders she had committed thus far.
Above all, Mangot was a nest of revenge-seekers who dreamed one day of devouring the entire continent.
Raised in such a place, Selena had shed her sentimentality about taking human life long ago.
But now, if that blood became an obstacle—
If she could not carry out the commands of her master, who awaited her return, for a reason so trivial, Selena would be utterly unable to contain herself.
“I don’t know what you’re truly thinking,”
Selena said, meeting Cassian’s gaze. She looked into those eyes—eyes that burned with an intelligence far too keen for a mere animal, as if trying to read through her disguise.
“But we have to hurry. That person is in danger.”
Yes. Right now, Selena knew nothing of the situation there. What had happened at the Barrier, whether Frontdier had joined the fighting, or whether he had already crossed it—she knew none of it.
The only thing she knew with certainty was this:
‘Frontdier doesn’t have this cloth now.’
Selena gripped the blue cloth she had been given, feeling its weight in her palm.
Without it, Frontdier could not fight at full strength. Though she didn’t know its exact nature, the battles she had witnessed so far made clear how vital this cloth was to him.
And she had received it. For the sole purpose of bringing Cassian here.
She had been handed a lifeline for Frontdier.
“Whether you trust me or not doesn’t matter. Honestly, what you think is of no consequence to me. I don’t even know why he asked me to bring you while giving up this cloth. But I won’t ask. There’s no need to ask. I simply follow orders.”
Selena clenched her teeth. Did Cassian understand her words? Could he understand them? There was no reading what lay behind those equine eyes and that expressionless face.
“Please. Help me.”
Yet Selena spoke anyway.
To persuade Cassian now, all she had was her voice.
She could only hope that sincerity might reach him. That was all she had.
“That person is in danger.”
The words fell softly from her lips. Cassian watched her quietly. There was no reading a horse’s thoughts. But after a moment, he tossed his head once and moved closer to her, offering his flank.
“… Thank you.”
Selena mounted Cassian’s back. She draped the cloth across him. The horse tilted his head as if pleased.
‘When I was holding this cloth, I felt neither cold nor heat.’
So that’s why Frontdier could dress so lightly in Taeibun and be perfectly fine. She had thought it some odd vanity, but the small mystery had solved itself.
‘… Which means he must be freezing now.’
And her worries multiplied.
“Let’s go, Cassian. There’s someone we need to find.”
Next was Malia de Roach.
The Roach Residence was—that is—
‘Wait. Didn’t Malia mention she doesn’t stay at the Roach Residence?’
Malia was Frontdier’s mother, but she didn’t remain at the estate.
Whether she had a falling out with Angen or was simply devoted to her research as rumor had it, Malia ordinarily took her meals and lodging at Constellation Academy.
… But during the break?
“Where should I go to find Malia? Eek—!”
The moment she murmured those words, Cassian moved first.
“You—you know where Malia is, don’t you?”
Cassian offered no answer. Of course he didn’t. But his quiet gallop was answer enough for Selena.
“… All right.”
Gripping the reins tight, Selena followed wherever Cassian led.

* * *
The day after the first Barrier battle ended.
The monsters were quiet. There would be no fighting today, it seemed.
The soldiers took comfort in this, but the knights grew tense instead, their faces hardening. They too had heard from Silvain about the monsters’ nature.
If they weren’t launching continuous assaults, then according to Frontdier’s assessment, they were gathering an enormous force to punch through the Barrier in a single, decisive stroke.
Silvain believed Frontdier’s prediction had hit the mark. It was a desperately bleak situation, yet for Frontdier, reading the signs offered a thin thread of hope.
One thing, though.
“This doesn’t add up.”
Frontdier himself muttered as much.
[What doesn’t?]
“Those creatures—I think they’ll attack tomorrow.”
At Gregory’s words, Frontdier spoke while studying the papers spread across his desk.
He’d stored the map he’d seen in the conference room in the Arsenal, and while listening to Gregory’s report, sketched out a battlefield diagram on the parchment before him.
Looking at it, Frontdier’s expression grew even graver.
“I knew a full offensive was coming, but I didn’t think it would be this soon. I figured we’d have a few more days.”
[They’re mustering their forces at quite a pace.]
Hastily. Yes, the enemy’s rate of reinforcement felt rushed. A movement that seemed to be accelerating their general offensive.
If things proceeded this way, the monsters’ invasion would come faster than Selena could return with Cassian and bring Malia de Roach here.
[When is Selena arriving?]
“Hard to say. Even without delay, it’ll be after sunset tomorrow.”
Selena had to convince both Cassian and Malia de Roach. Frontdier doubted either would be easy.
Cassian was intelligent but possessed a fierce pride, and Malia de Roach was reluctant to go anywhere near Angen.
More than that, neither of them would know Selena well. She’d need to establish herself as someone trustworthy, and having only limited resources with her in Mangot, persuasion might prove difficult.
[Then tomorrow, there’ll be blood.]
……
Gregory said this as though it were obvious. Without Penelope’s Weaving, Frontdier couldn’t even muster ten percent of his fighting strength. Of course waiting for Selena was the right call.
Yet Frontdier remained silent. Which made Gregory uneasy.
[You’re not—you’re not thinking of going out there yourself, are you?]
“……I’m not planning to cross the Barrier.”
At Frontdier’s answer, Gregory relaxed somewhat. And at the same time, grew more anxious. Not planning to cross the Barrier? Then was he planning something else?
“Gregory.”
[Why are you calling me like that? You’re making me nervous.]
“Silvain said it before. That only an emperor could make the choice to sacrifice the few to save the many.”
[He did. So what?]
“Hearing that, I’ve been thinking quietly about it. If it came down to it, could I make such a choice? That way of sacrificing the few for the greater good—would I be capable of it? Setting aside whether such options even present themselves, could I find it in myself to make such a decision?”
Frontdier recalled the battles of days past. Particularly what had happened at Taeibun.
Nearly all his other fights had been personal ones. True, there had been clashes between the Constellation Academy teachers and the Indus leadership, but he’d accounted for those in advance and never doubted the teachers would prevail. And in fact, nothing had come of it.
But at Taeibun, he’d witnessed countless deaths. His declaration that not a single soul would die had applied to the Knights—not to the soldiers.
Yet at that time, Frontdier had been remarkably composed. Was it because he’d braced himself for the possibility of others’ deaths, or had he simply closed off his heart to that reality?
Either way, Frontdier had weathered it. He’d witnessed death and remained largely unmoved.
So then, this time.
Could Frontdier allow himself to drive someone to death by his own hand? Even if it meant the greater good?
‘I always thought I needed to clear the game. Before coming to this world, and even now.’
To complete the game Aethius, he’d tried every conceivable approach, yet failed.
He’d come to this world in that state of failure.
Back then, Frontdier still carried the mindset of a player. Obtain what you can, abandon without regret what you cannot, find maximum efficiency, discover the optimal route.
But looking back, in the end.
Frontdier had never sacrificed anything. Like a foolish child, he’d simply hoped everything would go his way—and so far, fortune had favored him.
But someday, that luck would run out.
And when it did, what would he abandon for efficiency? Wouldn’t it be human lives?
[Frontdier.]
Gregory called to him.
The raven, bearing the expression a bird naturally wore, tilted its head and spoke.
[You’re not an emperor.]
……
A tone suggesting he couldn’t fathom why Frontdier was worrying about such things. Gregory, knowing nothing of his circumstances, couldn’t fully grasp the weight of his concern.
Yet that very thing.
“……Heh.”line>
Had brought Frontdier such profound comfort.

“Heh, hehehe. Hahahaha!”
Frontdier laughed. He laughed with his mouth wide open. How long had it been since he’d laughed like that?
‘Has the man lost his mind?’
Gregory’s reproach did nothing to still Frontdier’s laughter. He shook with genuine mirth, his shoulders heaving, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
“That’s right. Indeed. Keh-heh-heh.”
Frontdier turned his gaze to the window. The sun bowed low, stretching long hair across the crimson sky. Beyond the glass, townspeople and knights moved about in preparation for tomorrow.
Kitchen staff bustled to prepare the next day’s meals, servants folded cloth to mark the day’s end, knights gathered their weapons in readiness for the coming fight, and others knelt in prayer.
Taking in the whole of it, Frontdier spoke.
“I am not the Emperor.”
Much less a hero.
I am nothing at all.
‘To gain something, one must surrender something else.’
Silvain had it right.
Frontdier was no great figure capable of making such choices.

* * *
And the next day came.
As the soldiers exhaled their despair at the sight of monsters that seemed to pour forth as though scheduled, the knights atop the Barrier issued commands, caught sight of something in the distance, then looked toward something else, their attention constantly shifting.
Where the knights’ eyes gathered, there stood Silvain.
He was speaking with another soldier, his tone grave enough that the other knights dared not approach.
“…Say, that soldier beside the commander. That’s not a knight, is it?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“When did the commander get so close with a regular soldier?”
“I’m not sure it’s that sort of closeness. They don’t seem at ease with each other.”
“No?”
“The commander’s been furious since earlier. Did that soldier cause some trouble?”
They regarded the exchange between Silvain and the soldier with some curiosity, yet decided it was plausible enough and moved on.
And the soldier murmured,
“…Seamless, wouldn’t you say?”
His voice was pitched for Silvain’s ears alone.
The soldier was Frontdier. He fought at the Barrier with his face hidden behind a Mask.
“…Where did you even get that Mask?”
“I have rather extensive connections, it seems.”
Though he’d only cultivated them for less than a week.
And truth be told, he’d squeezed the Mask out of someone more through coercion than genuine connection-trading.
The image of Lorie—indignant, yet terrified, terrified in a way that bred indignation—remained vivid in his mind.
“You were supposed to let me pass over the Barrier.”
“Plans changed. The enemy’s plans changed.”
Silvain’s eyes twitched at that. So the attack had indeed come sooner than Frontdier anticipated.
“Is it manageable?”
“It has to be. We need to hold this position for at least today.”
Frontdier looked beyond the Barrier. The vast plain was already choked with monsters, overflowing in every direction.
Far more would pour forth than what was visible now.
This time, unlike the first day’s battle, the winged ones and the black creatures would all descend upon them.
“Originally I’d planned to slip through and strike at their stronghold, but they’ve been multiplying faster than expected.”
“So what’s the plan now? Stealth won’t work from here.”
The moment Silvain spoke, a soldier watching through a telescope cried out.
“They’re advancing!”
At last they had assembled. The monsters’ footsteps drew steadily closer to the Barrier.
The winged ones in particular were striking—they descended at speed.
Now the monsters waited for nothing. The ones flying at the vanguard were proof of that.
Seeing this, Frontdier drew on a Helm that covered his face entirely.
What need had he of the Mask then? For a moment, doubt flickered in Silvain’s mind.
“Menosorpho.”
Frontdier spoke a word.
“…!”
The very air of the region shifted. Silvain felt the flow of Mana change. This was—
‘A Magic Circle!’
When had he set something of this scale? And the range—it extended far beyond the Barrier itself!
Before coherence could settle, Frontdier glanced at Silvain and spoke.
“From this moment forward, no matter what happens, you must not show surprise. All of this unfolds under your command.”

“……Could it be that he’s wearing a helm?”
That’s right. There’s no way a mere soldier could manage such a thing.
Frontdier is standing beside Silvain right now. That’s why he’s hidden his face completely, making it look as though Silvain alone is responsible for everything.
Spatial Weaving, Simultaneous Replication.
The Imperial Palace Arsenal.
Thirty Long Spears, numbered one through thirty in order.
And dozens of spears rising above the Barrier.
Frontdier whispers again to Silvain, who stands frozen in astonishment.
“Remember this. Under no circumstances—you must not show surprise.”

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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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