The only remaining cloud on their rose-tinted, blissful sky was the upcoming spring group tournament. The taint from Isekai settled into all parts of society in Wergaist and, to an unknown extent, even further away, which in this case meant the influence of the adventurers guild where outworlders arbitrarily decided that a small paramilitary unit should consist of exactly six members. Hence, the students needed to form adventurer parties with, well, half a dozen members. It made no rational sense whatsoever, but by now it was a hard rule in Spellsword Academy.

  This evening, the last before the break, saw Karaki, Canadena, Ai and Ioha squeezed inside Ioha’s shared room. Ai and Ioha had already shared their satisfied grins and a few kisses in her room earlier. Right now, however, there was no satisfaction to be found.

  “We need two more,” Canadena said. “One support and one knight.”

  “I can stand front,” Karaki protested.

  “You can,” she agreed, “but you’re the only one good with a bow. Defend Ai and the support until I can make it back if we make a mistake.”

  “I can defend them,” Ioha tried.

  “You’re front!” Three voices in unison.

  Ioha sighed. He didn’t have to like her being right, but it behoved him that he accepted reality for what it was. A few weeks of school after the tournament made it all too clear he was the slowest of all cats when there was a need to cover short to medium distances. Sure, he could outrun almost all of them if they lacked both horse and carriage and needed to get to Isekai, a full day away, and he could probably do it with Ai in his arms.

  “How’s your aura?” Karaki asked.

  Ioha shrugged and scratched his hair. “Master class before the tournament. Maybe even mid-winter.”

  “And your attacks?”

  With a silent growl, Ioha looked down at his feet. He’d improved his aura-extended sword exactly once since the tournament. That gave him barely a finger’s width extra reach, or, for all practicality, almost not worth mentioning. His sword-hardening ability improved almost daily, but no one at school cared if he could block a war axe or half the roof falling on top of his sword. War axe was more than enough, not that blocking an axe with a thin stick of steel was a very good idea to begin with.

  “Knight, then,” Canadena suggested. “We need someone front who scares people.”

  Which was sound and everything. Sound cats didn’t stay front, though.

  “Know anyone learning support, or at least mobile logistics?” Ioha said. The less they talked about him taking the meat shield role, the better.

  Ai shook her head. “Already taken. Only three of them from the beginning.”

  That’s odd. Team princess and commoner knight grabbing one each was obvious, but Canadena did make it to the final round. “The third one?”

  “Anthony Clevasti,” Ai said. There was no need to specify what ‘the third’ meant. “The girl hates his guts, but we’re talking about the Clevasti family here.” Memories formed a thin smile on her face, and then it turned into a smirk. “My grandmother was big on family. A powerful family can do a lot for those in need.”

  A lot of good, or a lot of bad? Ioha wasn’t certain he liked Ai’s memories very much. Maybe he’d been too convinced the old authoritarian Japan he read about was truly gone. Or rather, that all of it was gone. “Can we do without a support?”

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  Ai shrugged, but eventually she nodded. “Most teams have to. Support is a huge advantage, but any caster who can manipulate status effects will help.” She combed her hair with her fingers, and Ioha watched in awe. He loved that hair and how it felt in his hands. “We’re pretty bad synergy,” she said and smiled at him.

  “Get a room!” Karaki and Canadena suggested in union.

  “Bad synergy, why?” Canadena asked after her grin faded. On the training field she was almost as good as he at anticipating what was going on around her, and with him being ten years her senior, that really made her his tactical superior.

  Karaki’s head went between the three of them and occasionally down to something he persisted in believing was edible snacks. He was, well, not as good as anyone at anticipating anything that didn’t involve him directly.

  Ai’s tired smile still played over her lips when she spoke. “I’m a healer. Ioha kind of makes me unemployed, which is really cool, but as long as either of us gets the job done, the other isn’t needed."

  Hey! I’m a cat! I can fight. But deep down he suspected she was right. “So, two offensive squishies?” he suggested.

  “Squishy?” both Karaki and Canadena wondered.

  Shit, gaming term. “Lightly armoured attack specialists? I could defend them.”

  Three pairs of eyes stared at him. “Defend them?” For once Karaki asked the right question. “If someone wants to hit me, I need to defend myself.”

  Yeah, what the school teaches us. He locked eyes with Ai. She shook her head. I don’t think I can make them understand. So how could he reach them? “Shields,” he said. “You know I can create shields at a distance.” Shields helped, but they weren’t the reason, only a supporting tool. With a shrug, Ioha decided the tool had to suffice. Shields were easy to understand, and Ai had just given him a silent warning.

  “I’ll get us a knight,” Karaki said. “I know a really good one. I helped him with a few dates, so we’re friends of sorts now.”

  After a short look at Karaki Ioha doubled back mentally. No, not asking him how he defines a date. Good, we have a knight. Karaki was the experienced, yet innocent friend everyone wanted to have. “Ai, can you look around for someone who’d be willing to join us? Worst case, just to pad out the numbers.”

  “Mm, I’ll try.” And that was about all they could do. Only one question remained, and the answer was a given. “Certain you don’t want to gate with us? I have room for two more on the other side.”

  Karaki and Canadena shook their heads. “We’re staying here,” Canadena said. Karaki nodded. “Maybe when I’ve grown up.” Wergaist was the legendary world of the fantastic, but in reality it was mostly farmland and forests, with quite a few people having rather weird abilities. In ways, it was a little like visiting a history lesson. Outworld, on the other hand, was the legendary world of the fantastic incarnate. You couldn’t explain it to anyone from here. For most of them, it had to be different enough to cause trauma.

  “When you grow up, then. The invitation still stands.” All four rose and bowed. Some moments required polite formality, even among friends.

  “Take good care of the room,” Ioha joked. This was goodbye for a month, and he saw no reason to drag out the awkwardness. “Make sure it’s still here when I’m back.”

  Canadena looked like she was about to deliver one of her usual pointed remarks, but Karaki tugged at her clothes, and she remained silent. With surprising grace, she sat down with a small wave of her hand.

  “I will,” Karaki said. Then he joined her.

  Ioha closed the door on his way out. He didn’t even bring his satchel, but instead he held on to Ai’s hand as they descended the stairs. Outside, darkness had fallen, and autumn turned to what counted as winter here. Ai might recognise it as such, but Ioha expected at least a few weeks of snow, even though Gothenburg occasionally had spells with years when none fell. Still, on their way to Isekai trees without their green shrouds made for a very different impression compared to when he arrived here at the end of summer. The carriage was on the cheaper side, but months of physical training hid how uncomfortable it was. Twice they stopped at roadhouses where they changed both horses and coachman. At both occasions they shared a simple meal he guessed was influenced by outworlder tastes, and eventually they arrived at Isekai when evening turned to night. His body had changed during the months, as had his mind. Running the entire way would have been faster and less tiring.