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Maybe he had heard my voice, but Berald, still clutching the crumpled door in one hand with a triumphant grin on his face, turned his gaze toward me. The moment he spotted me, his eyes sparkled like stars. “No way! Is that you, Brother Dale?”
He strode toward me. “Heh! I’ve been hearing all kinds of rumors about you lately. What in the world’s been going on?”
Berald was the only person with whom I had any real connection before my regression, though it wasn’t exactly a good kind of connection. We had first met in last year’s supplementary classes during the academy break. Both of us had flunked one of the core general education courses: Principles and Understanding of Mana.
I guess failures recognize their own. He, infamously nicknamed “The Scoundrel of House Ryu,” and I, known as the eternal bottom-ranked cadet, naturally gravitated toward each other.
Berald rattled off the stories about me. “They say you knocked out Professor Kane with a single punch and made the Sword of the Holy Empire kneel with just a flick of your hand.”
He trailed off mid-conversation, clearly having...
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