I Became the Academy’s War Hero Chapter 40 : You Were Much More of a Trash Than I Thought? (

Chapter 40: You Were Much More of a Trash Than I Thought? (3)

The dark of midnight.

Crossing the empty plaza, Eric Halenber let out a long sigh.

“Damn it, seriously.”

The street he would have once run down in excitent now felt like a path of thorns.

He was indirectly involved in the situation, but a broker was still just a broker.

Processing, manufacturing, or distribution of goods was never their responsibility, nor could it be entrusted to them. There simply wasn’t that much trust between them.

If these people were ever to skim off goods and start lining their own pockets, it would be uncontrollable. So, the standard practice was to never even give them that chance.

‘Then why the hell would Code Black call a broker…?’

He had decided to expose the corruption of the Halenber family together with Eugene Carter, but that didn’t an he was willing to risk his life for it.

He was soone who had chosen adoption into his enemy’s family just to survive. There was not even a speck of a desire to step into certain death.

He just needed to play along, keep up appearances, and leave quickly.

If he drew any unnecessary suspicion, who knew what kind of end awaited him.

Lost in such thoughts, Eric soon found himself standing before Building C, his intended destination.

‘…Still, I am curious.’

If it was Code Black, that ant they were a top-tier Code Holder—one of fewer than twenty rare talents across the entire Empire.

Even considering this was Karbenna, the strongest academy in the Empire, that was still quite remarkable.

‘Just what kind of person could it be….’

Curiosity stirred within Eric once more.

Since the entire building was pitch-dark without a single light, Eric pulled out his wand and cast a light spell.

After crossing the hallways and stairs, he reached the small eting room on the fourth floor—just as the violet pendant he carried began to glow.

That was the signal that the person inside had recognized the engraving’s presence.

Clack!

The locking spell on the door was released imdiately after.

Eric glanced around once more before stepping inside.

The mont he entered, the lights in the entire room flared to life as if nothing had been dark to begin with.

Once the door shut behind him, the man sitting with his back to the table slowly turned around.

“Good to see you, Eric.”

“…You’re—”

Stroking his neatly trimd beard, Dale Wedyer smiled.

For an instant, Eric almost blurted out, I’m screwed, but barely managed to slap a hand over his mouth.

He should have realized sothing when he was taught the one-ti unlocking spell.

Clicking his tongue inwardly, Eric glared at the man before him.

The magic barrier surrounding Karbenna’s periter was a special-ordered construct—personally commissioned from the top-tier Magic Tower, Duel Mallet.

It was a place imbued with the very essence of the modern magical world’s greatest institution.

Neutralizing that barrier was practically impossible, and undoing even the smallest side-door lock spell wasn’t any simpler.

To breach this space, even for a short ti, required not only trendous talent but also imnse effort.

In other words, only an extrely rare individual could manage it.

And this man, Dale Wedyer—

‘…Yeah. This bastard could pull it off.’

Eric scratched at the corner of his mouth, forcing a bitter smile down.

Dale Wedyer—head of the Wedyer family, one of the eight great noble houses of the Empire. His primary magic was Manufacture and Manipulation.

He excelled at modifying existing spell structures to enhance or weaken their power and effects, as well as extracting and refining the components of matter into new forms.

Being proficient in manipulation magic naturally ant he was also well-versed in one-ti and engraving spells.

So the mont Eric saw him, he instinctively understood.

From the instant he arrived here, there was nowhere to run.

“Are you keeping the Hockma safe?”

“…Yes.”

Eric obediently took out his Shrink Bag and set it down on the floor.

When he stepped back a few paces, Dale drew his wand and infused mana into the artifact.

The bag instantly expanded back to its original size.

Rising from his seat, Dale picked up a few of the Hoken Tree leaves packed inside.

“Hmm… not top-grade.”

“I did ntion that, with the volu being so high, so of the raw materials might be of lower quality.”

“Well, fair enough. The demand was quite large this ti.”

Then, shall we begin?

First, Dale took out a scroll inscribed with a spell and placed it on the floor.

Next, he fetched a thick leather sack and two wooden funnels from the back.

“Eric, are you good at handling pain?”

“…Yes.”

“Good. Then bear with it for a bit.”

With those words, a trendous surge of mana began to radiate from Dale’s entire body.

“Wait, why all of a sudden—”

And in that instant—

“Ugh?!”

A searing pain ripped through his chest.

It felt like having a red-hot blade pressed against bare skin after peeling it open.

His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor. Through the blurred haze of pain, he barely glimpsed the Hoken Tree leaves turning into a fine, white powder.

Three minutes passed like three hours.

Gritting his teeth, Eric wiped away the drool that had dripped from his mouth.

In front of him, Dale was transferring the refined Hockma into the leather sack.

Eric forced himself to stand.

There was no point in stealing raw materials—it was easy to deny, and if needed, they could just cut him off. What mattered was that the finished Hockma was being openly circulated within Karbenna.

Circumstantial evidence wasn’t enough.

To bring them down, he needed solid proof.

‘I have to steal at least a little…!’

Acting as naturally as possible, Eric walked closer and sat down beside the leather sack.

“Whew… Thought I was going to die there.”

He wiped the sweat beading on his forehead with his left hand and began transferring the Hockma with the remaining funnel.

Watching this quietly, Dale spoke with a look of admiration.

“Impressive. Wasn’t this your first ti acting as the manufacturing dium?”

“Yes.”

Hockma manufacturing required both extraction and pulverization spells to be cast simultaneously—sothing one person could almost never manage alone.

The easiest way to solve this was by using a separate dium—and this ti, Eric had been that dium.

“It’s a completely different kind of pain from regular mana depletion. Most first-tirs are down for half a day at least.”

“It does hurt like hell… but it’s not unbearable.”

If he had to compare, the beating he took from Francia during training had been much worse.

As those thoughts crossed his mind and his hands moved steadily, Dale nodded, seemingly satisfied.

He seed to quite like the fact that Eric showed no outward reaction.

“Your father was worrying a lot… I guess it was all for nothing.”

“…About my father?”

“She was saying he’d lost sight of the greater cause because of so girl, or sothing like that. I’ll tell him not to worry about .”

Dale, satisfied with his own conclusion, nodded to himself and continued the work.

Eric watched him expressionlessly for a mont, then subtly slid his left hand beneath the funnel.

Since the sweat he had wiped earlier was still on his hand, he was able to sweep up the powder fairly easily.

He quickly dumped the swept powder into the inner pocket of his uniform and, with no outward sign, gathered the remaining powder with his hand.

It was to avoid leaving traces on the hand that he hadn’t been able to fully brush off.

“……”

Fortunately, Dale showed no sign of suspicion and joined in.

After transferring all the manufactured Hockma, Dale began the work of erasing traces.

That process consud about thirty more minutes.

He sealed the leather sack tightly, placed it into the Shrink Bag, then reduced it again and put it into his bosom.

Finally inspecting the interior, Dale slapped his hands together with a satisfied look.

“Good work, Eric.”

“Whew… I can breathe a little now.”

“Of course, you must never reveal that I am a Code Holder. If it leaks out… you know what that ans?”

“Of course.”

After a brief farewell, Eric left the eting room.

Only when he reached the dormitory building did he let out a sigh of relief.

The thirteenth manor owned directly by the Bernhardt line.

After feeding and sending off the previous guests by dinner, Chloe Bernhardt imdiately summoned the man to her private room.

The man had sat in the corner all through the eting, saying nothing and focusing only on listening.

He wore a dark cloak and a mask, so she had no idea what his face looked like.

Even after entering, he remained seated on a worn chair used by servants, staring into empty space.

Sweeping her hair back with a comb, Chloe asked casually, without much feeling.

“Who’s the liar?”

“There wasn’t one.”

“Is the supply within the organization going smoothly?”

“There were recent disturbances, but nothing major.”

“If you need extra volu, say the word. I’ll have it delivered.”

“Understood.”

The man’s continued curt answers gradually twisted Chloe’s expression.

“Hey, even if you’re a hired shadow, can’t you at least show a minimum of goodwill? Huh?”

The man’s reply remained dry as ever.

“Goodwill is unnecessary. Don’t expect that from , employer.”

Still, what an annoying bastard.

Chloe, who had been stifling a laugh, now introduced a new topic.

“Well, setting that aside… Eugene Carter, possible?”

That was the real point.

“……”

The man, uncharacteristically, fell silent for a long ti before cautiously offering an opinion.

“…He wants ten tis the usual pay.”

At that, a large crack appeared on Chloe’s face for the first ti.

“What? Is he that picky?”

“With so little ti to investigate, we must account for unknown variables in his capabilities.”

“Weren’t your n the ones who went to attempt the assassination last ti? Didn’t you gather everything then?”

“They were not sufficient. Send about three of our operatives. First complete reconnaissance, then comnce the main operation. It’ll take at least a week.”

Ah, annoying.

As the conversation dragged, Chloe suddenly grew bored.

She waved a hand dismissively and snapped irritably.

“I’ll give you ten tis—get it done by this week. Make sure the accident cover-up is thorough.”

“…If it’s by the end of this week, it’s twelve tis.”

What a robber.

“Fine. I’ll give a generous advance. But kill one more person.”

The man jumped up and asked, “Na and identity?”

“Eric Halenber. He’s the fourth son of the Halenber family and enrolled at Karbenna.”

“……”

“Compared to Eugene Carter he’s a rookie. You can take him out cheaply. No problem, right?”

After a mont’s hesitation, he slightly nodded.

“Deal.”

He then placed a slip of paper with a fourteen-character personal account number on the table.

“I want the deposit by tomorrow evening.”

Having said that much, the man disappeared in an instant.

In a fit of rising irritation, Chloe threw the comb to the floor.

“Damn it, if the job had been sloppy I would’ve cut him off imdiately.”

Well, ten tis—or a hundred tis—was pocket change to her.

She sighed lightly and turned her gaze to the front wall of the room.

A large frad painting of the Bernhardt family hung there.

Seeing their faces looking forward with bright smiles made her anger flare again.

She was the only one missing from that picture.

It was a lifelong disgrace to Chloe Bernhardt.

“…That should have been my place.”

A lowborn cadet, pretending to be her elder sister, was included in the family portrait while she, the youngest, was excluded solely for being the youngest.

My hateful sister, Michel.

Wait a little longer. I’ll pull her down soon.

The touch with which she caressed the fra was filled with pure fury.