Ch.7373 – I Told You So, Oknodie

# 73 – I’m Right, Oknodie

Hestia spoke as she entered her empty room, 112.

“I’m back.”

She hung her massive double-bladed axe on the wall and placed her coat on the hanger.

She unfastened her belt and draped it over a chair, then quickly stripped off her training clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket.

She removed her weighted vest with a thud—the one she wore under her clothes to prevent herself from forgetting the weight of armor.

Crack.

The sound from her shoulder blade concerned her.

She put the inner lining she wore over her underwear to prevent chafing from the weighted vest into the laundry basket.

‘My chest feels stiff.’

In her underwear, she stretched to check her joint mobility and carefully loosened each muscle around her shoulders.

She didn’t forget to massage her chest to relieve the tension in her chest muscles.

While diligently examining her body and finishing her daily routine, she heard a knock from the wall.

It was the sound Oknodie often made when ready to talk.

“Sorry. I’m a bit late today, aren’t I?”

Hestia excitedly sat on the floor beside her bed and spoke to the wall.

-I waited for you.

A motherly smile formed on her face.

“I waited for you,” he said.

What a heartwarming response, like a pet that had been waiting only for her return.

“Today I practiced weapon destruction with my double-bladed axe at the training ground. I destroyed 12 wooden weapons and 3 metal ones, with the last one being an iron greatsword.”

As she shared her day’s events like she was relieving stress, Oknodie listened to everything without showing any sign of annoyance, as always.

-That’s amazing.

“Right? Even among mercenaries, no one was as good at weapon destruction as me. I was worried I might have gotten rusty since entering the Academy, but I’m glad my body remembered the feel.”

Just as one’s body remembers how to ride a horse once learned, it also remembers the knack for weapon destruction.

“Still, sometimes I forget the technique, so I need to focus on training like this occasionally.”

She talked about what lectures she attended, who the professors were, what kind of students were there, and how terrible they were.

After chatting for a while, she suddenly glanced at the magic watch on her wrist.

[9:00 PM]

“It’s already this late. Oknodie, you’re small, so you need to go to bed soon. We’ll continue our chat tomorrow.”

-No. Let’s play more.

“Big sis is going to wash up and go to bed first. Muscles need rest to grow after being properly worked. You should go to bed soon too.”

She put her underwear in the laundry basket and entered her private shower, letting the water pour over her.

She adjusted the temperature control to find just the right temperature—not too hot, not too cold—and felt her body relax.

“Hmm.”

The mirror was fogged with steam.

Wiping it once with her hand gave a satisfying squeaky feeling.

A sturdy body covered in muscle.

Her legs were as thick as an adult man’s waist, and her forearms were as big as an average man’s head.

Her height approaching 190cm and her body trained to near-weapon status left little room for femininity.

Yet what made her claim to be a woman were the intimate parts too embarrassing to show others.

‘What weak thoughts am I having?’

Hestia splashed water on her face with both hands.

In her childhood, when she lived a feminine life, that weakness had cost her her hometown, family, and relatives.

Hadn’t she vowed after that?

Never to live weakly again.

Even as she trained repeatedly to the point of losing her feminine appearance, she never once forgot that vow.

‘If I had access to mana cultivation techniques.’

Then surely she could have had both beauty and strength.

A futile dream.

Mana cultivation techniques were the exclusive property of noble families.

Or the secret arts of warrior families.

They were privileges of the upper class, neither permitted to be learned by mere mercenaries nor casually shared.

Crunch.

She recalled searching many noble and warrior families, desperately wanting to obtain mana cultivation techniques.

The nobles would work mercenaries to the bone, pretending they might share their techniques, but the end result was always being thrown out with a few coins or sent on missions with no return.

The so-called secret techniques of warrior families were often not proper cultivation methods at all, mostly scams.

‘Gift Academy is different. This place clearly teaches students the skills they want, valuable secret arts.’

She could easily tell this even in the early stages of education.

While most education was practical, students naturally acquired necessary theory, knowledge, and techniques through practice.

Theoretical education had flaws—too much content or overly difficult material—but the education itself definitely took place.

There were no private tutors looking down on paying students, nor con artists glossing over with fake education.

‘Still, I can’t help feeling anxious.’

Unlike the outside world where it was hard to find anyone better than herself, Gift Academy was full of exceptional talents from both the frontier and the empire.

She, who was confident she wouldn’t lose to anyone except faction leaders, now had to be wary of opponents appearing at the rate of one per hallway.

The advanced class lectures were like a dragon’s deep lake and a tiger’s den—full of dangerous experts.

Though she was concerned about the swordsman named Sing who emanated killing intent whenever he saw her, and the girl named Zhang who smiled as if wanting to see blood…

What caught her attention most was still Oknodie.

‘I want to protect that child, but is that all? Is that child really someone I need to protect?’

When she stopped the attack on Lotta, Oknodie clearly used mana cultivation techniques.

She had known from the moment Oknodie used strength disproportionate to those thin arms that the muscle compression ratio was extraordinary, but the sensation of directly receiving a blow was beyond imagination.

“Oknodie. Can I ask you one thing?”

-It’s past 9 o’clock.

She couldn’t help but smile at the curt response, as if Oknodie was sulking.

Sitting heavily beside the bed with her towel-dried body, the question she wanted to ask came to mind.

“The mana cultivation technique you’ve learned. If it’s okay…”

“…No. Please forget I asked.”

It was an impossible request.

How could she casually ask such a thing after hearing rumors that the child was raised as an assassin for a noble family?

Feeling frustrated, she got dressed to go out for some fresh air, when she saw a small child staggering back to the dormitory.

“Oknodie?”

“I’m not Oknodie.”

“Zhang, then.”

Zhang, with a frame as small as Oknodie’s.

She looked extremely tired.

“Were you in class?”

“Fifth period. Oknodie was there too.”

Hestia paused.

“That’s impossible. Oknodie was just talking with me.”

“Already back in the room? That can’t be right. I definitely returned first.”

Zhang looked puzzled.

Hestia scoffed at the claim that suggested she hadn’t been talking to Oknodie.

“Oknodie was talking to me until just now.”

“I’m telling you, we were in fifth period class together.”

“I’m not falling for that.”

“Why would I lie to you?”

Both Hestia and Zhang’s expressions became very uncomfortable.

What’s with this person/brute?

Why is she claiming she was with Oknodie?

It seemed like a joke, but the expression was too real.

There was a clear indication that she believed what she was saying.

Hestia vaguely sensed this with her mercenary instinct, while Zhang recognized it through her assassin’s trained ability to read expressions.

“We can check with Oknodie.”

“That’s what I was going to say.”

Hestia and Zhang knocked on Oknodie’s door.

Knock knock.

After a moment, Oknodie appeared in the hallway.

Zhang’s face said “See?”

Hestia’s face changed as if she’d seen a ghost.

What was going on?

* * *

Yikes. This is bad!

“Oknodie. We just attended class together, right?”

“No, Oknodie? We were talking in my room.”

Hestia and Zhang were both claiming they had been with me.

I immediately understood what was happening.

Zhang was claiming we spent fifth period together, while Hestia was arguing that couldn’t be true because she had been talking with me—actually with the Responding Wall—during that time, and they must have run into each other.

If I confirm Zhang’s story, Hestia’s mental state could be severely damaged.

“I was talking with Hestia.”

“See?”

Hestia looked relieved.

Conversely, Zhang’s expression became strange.

“Why are you telling such a weird lie? We definitely attended class together. The ‘Adventurer’s Night Activities’ lecture.”

I did attend it.

But I can’t admit it.

Hestia might completely lose it!

“Is there even such a class in fifth period?”

“What?”

“I only have classes until fourth period on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

So I lied.

Zhang muttered with an extremely pale face.

“Then who was the Oknodie I attended class with?”

“Don’t know?”

“You’re joking, right? Those are your outdoor clothes.”

Zhang clung to me as if demanding I admit it was a joke.

“Really?”

Hestia seemed to sense something suspicious.

She pointed directly at me and asked.

“Where were you coming from? It’s almost 10 o’clock, curfew time.”

“I really didn’t attend class! I went to prepare.”

“Prepare for what?”

Suddenly I remembered what the Responding Wall had said.

-If you climb the central staircase to the second floor of the main building at 2:22 AM, you’ll reach a hidden room.

A hidden piece revealed by the wall that desperately wanted to communicate, tempting players.

If that lonely wall had spoken to me, surely it must have spoken to Hestia at least once.

“Preparing to go to the second floor of the main building.”

My guess was right.

As soon as I mentioned it, Hestia’s expression became full of guilt.

“Have you been going there every day?”

“Yes!”

This should also cover for attending fifth period class with Zhang on Monday, right?

I’m such a genius!

While I was feeling proud of myself, Hestia fell into self-loathing, muttering “I’m trash. How could I leave Oknodie alone,” and Zhang trembled like a broken robot, mumbling “A ghost? Really? A ghost?”