The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 38

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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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Academy Weapon Replicator — Episode 38
Chapter 10: The Empress’s Eye (4)
Lunchtime.
Quiney de Viet was making her way to the cafeteria, listening to her friend Anne chatter away.
“Quiney, you’ve heard, haven’t you? The Third Princess just transferred in.”
“Don’t be so disrespectful. Calling her ‘the Third Princess’ like that—what if someone overhears?”
“Come on, titles don’t mean much inside Konstel.”
Fair point, technically.
Even as Quiney conceded that Anne was right in theory, she was learning in real time that the world simply didn’t work that way.
Aten Terst.
The moment word spread that she’d transferred in, the student body erupted into chaos.
How to approach her, what gifts to give, whether to invite her to dinner after class—the endless calculations swirled.
Even the third-year students, who were supposed to set the academy’s standard of conduct, had been swept up in it.
‘Well, I understand the impulse.’
Truth be told, Quiney herself was already fishing for ways to approach Aten Terst.
As a merchant, she knew better than anyone the value of connections.
A tie to the royal family? Even if nothing came of it, the attempt was worth making.
As she and Anne continued their conversation, they arrived at the cafeteria entrance.
“……Huh?”
“What?”
Both of them froze, staring blankly at the scene before them.
Spread out in front of their eyes was a sight so unusual it barely had a name.
More than that—it was something they had never witnessed before in their lives.
Anne gasped, her voice climbing in pitch. “That… that’s not Frondier, is it?”
“……Huh? What?”
Frondier was sitting alone at a table.
Everyone else had given him a wide berth.
Not that it was surprising—Frondier had a terrible reputation, after all.
But there was one person sitting right beside him, pressed close enough to be unmissable.
“Look, Quiney.”
“Yeah?”
“I’d only heard stories, never actually seen her before. Quiney.”
“Right.”
“They said Aten was pure white from head to toe, right? Hair, eyebrows, eyes, skin—everything.”
“……Yeah.”
The two of them looked again at the woman sitting beside Frondier.
“……So that means… that’s Aten?”
* * *
I’m exhausted.
It had been a long time since I’d felt this drained without even being in combat.
I was eating while enduring the weight of every gaze in the cafeteria pressing down on me.
……I couldn’t taste a thing.
I glanced sideways.
“…….”
“…….”
“…….”
Aten was sitting right beside me.
Even after lunchtime began in the classroom, she hadn’t budged from the seat next to mine.
When I stood up, she stood. When I walked, she followed.
And now here she was, sitting beside me in the cafeteria itself.
Her back ramrod straight, her posture so perfect it looked like it had been drawn from a textbook.
No doubt one of the courtly manners hammered into her by the royal household.
……But.
“Aten.”
“Yes?”
“You’re not eating.”
There was no way to eat in a posture like that.
Aten fell silent for a moment at my words, then blank—simply blank—before something seemed to click, and her eyes widened.
“Ah. I must intake sustenance.”

“……No, there’s no need for that.”
No need at all, and yet there she was, spooning rice onto a tray with her own hands.
Aten Terst began eating once she heard what I said.
It felt like I’d just issued her a direct command to eat.
What am I, her programmer?
Watching her eat in silence like that, she was the very picture of a Snow Woman—the kind people invoke in metaphors.
Austere and merciless to all appearances, yet beautiful without a single flaw.
As if that beauty burned precisely because she admitted no one near, a cold and perfect beauty.
‘If I could just understand why she’s doing this to me, I might feel a little less lost.’
Hadn’t Phillia sent her to extract information about the Dragon Heart from me?
So shouldn’t the natural approach be to edge up to me with sweet words and fish for answers?
But she doesn’t speak to me, and she’s not doing anything in particular.
She just keeps following me around, relentless.
Like she’s watching me.
What is this, harassment?
Some new trick from Aktober?
“Huh……? Frondier?”
A familiar voice reached me then.
I looked up to find Sybel standing there, bewilderment written across her face.
Sybel, you came!
My savior has arrived!
“What? Aten Terst? Wait, Frondier, when did you two even…….”
“I didn’t do anything, and I don’t know how either.”
I’m as lost as you are.
Even as we spoke, Aten remained focused on her meal.
Sybel tilted her head slightly in greeting toward that figure.
“Um, ah, Aten Terst? Hello there.”
Sybel’s gestures and expressions drew favor from everyone, regardless of age or gender.
At that greeting, Aten set down her utensils and wiped her mouth with a napkin.
When she spoke, her voice was glacial.
“While it’s true my name is Aten Terst, I believe you’re laboring under a misunderstanding.”
Oh, now that’s definitely Snow Woman territory.
The image I’d held of her from the game was still intact.
Here I was, watching that imperious royal tone, that cold voice and demeanor, silence Sybel entirely!
“A, a misunderstanding?”
“I’m merely a first-year who’s just transferred in, so the title of ‘Aten Terst’ doesn’t suit me at all.”
“……Huh?”
“Please, feel free to use whatever name feels most comfortable. I’ve heard Konstel doesn’t concern itself with rank or station.”
Sybel stood stunned by Aten’s words.
I was just as caught off guard.
Sybel broke into a bright smile and moved closer to Aten.
“Wow, Aten’s so kind! I was worried you’d be cold toward me!”
“Is that so?”
Sybel’s charm had already reached maximum level in an instant.
And Aten accepted her warmth without resistance.
Watching the two of them, I buried my face in my hands and despaired.
What is this.
Is this really Aten Terst?
Where was that stern, harsh version of Aten I’d seen when I played as Astor?
“So Aten, you came straight here right after transferring? Where are you sleeping, then?”
“I’ve had a residence prepared nearby as of yesterday.”
“Then you probably don’t know your way around much yet, do you?”
“Well, I did receive a briefing from my personal secretary.”
“Then would you like to go shopping with me after class? I can show you around!”
……The conversation was flowing, certainly, but it was pure dialogue between the wealthy and the common folk.
I understood the words, but the scale didn’t add up.
“I’m afraid shopping would be difficult for me.”
That made sense.
No matter what, she wouldn’t go shopping with a girl she’d just met.
Yet even as she said this, Aten was looking straight at me.
…What are you looking at?
“Because I’m going to accompany Frondier after class.”
“…Excuse me?”
I found myself echoing her words—such an absurd thing to say.
Sybel stared at me with her mouth hanging open.
“Frondier. You’re… impressive?”
“What do you mean by that?”
Whatever you mean, you’ve got it wrong, haven’t you?
‘This isn’t the time to argue with her.’
Collecting myself, I turned to Aten.
“What do you mean by that, Aten? Surely you’re not saying you’ll follow me around even after class?”
At my words, Aten set down her napkin and exhaled with a soft sigh.
“Frondier, that’s not what I meant.”
Ah, of course?
You’re not going to keep following me after class, right?
As if answering my unspoken hope, Aten spoke gently.
“As I said before, since I’m just a first-year student at Konstel, there’s no need for you to use an honorific with me.”
“Hey!”
“And I’m not entirely comfortable being addressed so casually all of a sudden.”
Why isn’t this conversation getting anywhere?!
* * *
—Astor, be wary of Frondier de Roach.
Astor was lost in thought.
The words Baldur had spoken when they met in the Sanctuary.
‘What does he mean?’
Astor does not get swept away by hearsay and reputation.
He trusts his own eyes and ears more.
That judgment has never been wrong.
Frondier was the same.
Whatever they called him—the Human Lazybones—after speaking with him several times face-to-face and exploring a dungeon together, Astor had come to know his true character well enough.
Frondier was a decent person.
At least not deserving of the shameful epithet of Human Lazybones.
‘I’ve seen far more people who are far lazier while pretending to be sincere, and the incompetent ones who strut about despite their inability.’
Within Konstel, Astor was among those who held Frondier in the highest regard.
That’s why Baldur’s words didn’t come easily to him.
But nor could he simply brush aside the words of Baldur, the master of Divine Power.
‘To be wary of Frondier is to say, simply put, that he’s my enemy.’
Yet he had only ever received help from Frondier.
From the matter with the counterfeit Mistilthane to dungeon exploration.
The dungeon was actually proposed as repayment for the Mistilthane incident, though it only made Frondier suffer more in the end.
And through it all, Frondier had even saved Sybel.
‘If Frondier is my enemy, then why?’
On purpose?
To deceive me?
If not, then should I stop believing in gods?
Astor bit his lower lip.
Astor was a formidable person even without Baldur’s Divine Power.
But he knew full well how great a blessing it was to have received his strength.
A world where gods truly exist.
Astor felt acutely how heavy a thing it was to disbelieve the words of a god.
“Astor, Astor.”
Astor came out of his reverie at the sound of his name.
Before him stood Runia Fresell, a classmate, holding out an ice cream.
“Chocolate?”
“…Yeah, sure.”
Astor, indifferent to what flavor it was, took the ice cream absently.
Runia asked while eating her strawberry ice cream.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
“Well, Runia—what do you think of Frondier?”
“Ugh, Frondier again. You’ve been talking about him constantly. Did you forget you came here because of him in the first place?”
That’s right.
It all began when Sybel obtained a Low-tier Dungeon pass.
At the time, Sybel had nominated Astor, and Astor had nominated Frondier.
“If you hadn’t done that, I could’ve gone into the dungeon with them too!”
“That’s why I’m following you shopping as an apology. Besides, the dungeon rewards weren’t much anyway.”
The only worthwhile thing was the Sanctuary, but only people with Divine Power could benefit from it.
Runia didn’t have Divine Power, so she was out of luck.
Yet Runia seemed bothered by this, her brow furrowing even as she bit into her ice cream.
“Ugh! You idiot! It’s not about the rewards! You’re so oblivious.”
“……Is that so?”
‘So she regrets missing out on the experience—the combat, the trap-disarming, that sort of thing?’
That was the thought running through Astor’s mind.
It was certainly a very game-protagonist sort of thinking.
“So, asking again—what do you think about Frondier?”
“……You really are something.”
Runia stared at Astor as if bewildered, then sighed.
She raised one eyebrow thoughtfully before speaking.
“Well, I’ve never actually met him, so I can’t say for sure. If the rumors are true, I’d be disappointed. If not, then he’s just so-so. Somewhere between minus and zero?”
“That’s pretty harsh.”
“He’s lazy and incompetent, they say. And he just coasts on being a noble of a distinguished house.”
Runia was Astor’s childhood friend.
The sort of person with a very high probability of becoming the heroine.
Because of that, she was also the person Astor talked to the most.
She’d heard much about Frondier from him.
A man different from his reputation.
Responsible and considerate, the sort who wouldn’t abandon the injured—a proper man.
‘I’ve heard it, but I should only trust half of what Astor says.’
Runia knew Astor well.
Astor was far too kind.
Though he prided himself on his eye for people, he’d never actually met a truly wicked person.
‘Astor really does need me by his side.’
Just as Runia reached that conclusion.
She stopped in her tracks.
Her thoughts stopped too.
The sight before her was too peculiar.
“……Astor, I’ve only heard descriptions of her face, so—”
“Hmm?”
“Is that person walking so pale—is that Aten Terst?”
“……What?”
Only then did Astor look ahead.
Across the street, Aten was indeed walking—pale as snow.
And beside her—
“……Frondier?”
“Huh? That guy?!”
At Astor’s murmur, Runia blurted out in surprise.
That man walking beside Aten was Frondier?
With that sleepy-looking face?
So the rumors are true!
‘And Aten is literally trailing after him like a duckling.’
What was this situation?
“Hm?”
Just then, Frondier glanced in their direction.
He spotted Astor and raised his hand.
“Hey there, Astor.”
His casual manner caught Runia a bit off guard.
She’d only heard about him; it seemed they really had become close.
“Frondier. The person next to you—or rather, behind you—who is she?”
“Ah, you’ll see if you look—”
Frondier’s hand stopped mid-gesture as he began to introduce Aten.
It was because of the cold expression on her face.
“……Aten?”
Frondier called out to her, but Aten didn’t answer.
Her cold gaze was fixed on Astor.
Then it came back to him.
A fact he’d already known all along.
Nothing had changed.
Only his perspective had been wrong.
──When playing as Astor and encountering Aten for the first time,
he always met those stern, unforgiving eyes of hers.

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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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