Volume 7 Chapter 44 There Are All Kinds Of Things, Aren't There？
As the sun dipped low and dismissal time neared, Randy stood with the usual five—Liz, Ellie, Luke, and Cecilia—gathered in front of the academy's main gate. Leaning against one of the tall stone pillars supporting the grand Lance Canopy, he looked up as Liz approached with concern clouding her expression.
"Is everyone alright?"
Randy met her anxious gaze with a calm smile. "Don't worry," he said. Julius and Livia, of course—but also Wayne, Leon, and Catherine had all insisted on going themselves. With a quiet chuckle, Randy added, "They wouldn't appreciate it if we hovered over them."
"But... Lady Catherine, and His Highness..."
Liz trailed off, her voice uneasy. Randy offered a reluctant shrug.
"Well... yeah."
He understood her worry. It wasn't baseless.
"Even if they're reckless," he murmured, mostly to himself, "they wouldn't cause trouble inside the school."
Liz gave a small nod. "That's true."
The wind stirred gently through the entrance plaza, rustling leaves and carrying a faint sound from the path leading off to the auditorium and sports fields. Both Randy and Luke turned their attention in that direction. The others followed their gaze, heads tilting in curiosity.
There was nothing visible yet—but from the end of the sunlit path, voices echoed faintly.
"...That voice..."
"It's Lady Catherine and the others," Liz whispered.
Cecilia nodded, and the two of them exchanged glances before breaking into a light jog toward the front yard.
"Honestly... so careless," Ellie sighed, watching them go.
Randy, catching the subtle relief on her face, smiled.
"What's with that look?" Ellie asked quickly, catching his expression.
"Nothing," Randy replied, but his grin lingered.
"You're definitely laughing."
"I'm not."
"But you are."
As Ellie leaned in with puffed cheeks, Randy poked her forehead gently with one finger. Just then, Luke gave a sharp jerk of his chin toward the yard.
"Alright, quit flirting. Let's go."
Sure enough, figures were now visible in the distance.
"Yeah... Why are they all coming back from that direction?"
Muttering to himself, Randy called out, "Ellie, come on," and dashed off toward the approaching group.
Walking along the red-brick path were Julius and the others—Elcia and Gael among them. But something about the group felt off. Randy and Liz immediately noticed.
"...Sir Wayne and Sir Leon... what happened to them?"
Cecilia's voice was barely above a whisper. Even from a distance, the two looked battered. Their uniforms were ripped in places, stained with smudges of blood. Though their skin seemed mostly uninjured—no doubt thanks to Catherine—there were faint bloodstains on the tissues stuck in their noses.
"What in the world happened to you two—?"
Liz made to rush over, but Randy held her back with a gentle hand. He glanced at Julius, silently asking for an explanation. Julius let out a long breath before speaking.
"...I only found out after we met up with Lady Catherine," he said, then turned to look at Wayne and Leon. "Apparently, they fought."
The moment he said it, everyone understood. Even without the full story, it was clear. Wayne and Leon had gone head-to-head with Edgar and Arthur. And the outcome...
"...They got worked over pretty badly, huh," Randy said bluntly.
Catherine shot him a glare. "Hey, seriously—"
Gael and Elcia looked equally surprised. Cecilia sent a quiet, reproachful glance in Randy's direction. But Liz and Ellie merely sighed in unison.
"Randy..."
The two victims themselves—Wayne and Leon—burst into laughter.
"Yeah, we totally got thrashed."
"Yup. Clean defeat."
Despite their words, their grins carried a hint of pride. Gael, standing nearby, nodded several times before speaking, as if unable to hold it in any longer.
"Thanks to them, Their Highnesses finally gave us permission to act freely."
He gave a small bow. Randy nodded in return.
"I see..."
"They underestimated us," Wayne added with a shrug. "Figured that no matter who the 'traitors' teamed up with, it wouldn't make a difference."
He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, and Randy chuckled along.
"Sending you guys out was the right call."
Wayne pouted. "We lost, you know. Not exactly something to praise."
"You're such an idiot," Randy said, shaking his head. "I'm being serious."
Wayne gave him a look, then shrugged again.
"Well... who's to say?"
"It's more than enough. You kept the younger ones safe. You threw a few punches at the jerks."
"And got punched back ten times harder," Wayne replied, a crooked smile on his face.
Randy smiled in return. "Still. You looked cool."
Wayne flinched slightly at the compliment and fell silent.
"What's cool about getting beaten up—?"
"You're cool," Randy insisted. "You said, 'Leave it to me,' and got the job done. If that's not cool, what is?"
With a sigh, Randy took off his jacket and tossed it over Wayne's head.
"Wha—Hey!"
"Just wear it," Randy said, pushing the jacket down before Wayne could shake it off. "You're too cool right now. I can't let my Liz or Ellie see your face like this."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's pathetic. I'm jealous, okay?"
Still laughing, Randy released Wayne and turned toward Leon.
"You too, Leon. You protected Lady Catherine, didn't you?"
"Uh... not exactly. It wasn't like I protected her or anything..."
Leon faltered. Wayne had gone completely quiet. Randy simply said:
"Thanks."
A soft wind passed through the plaza, and silence followed.
"Alright... Let's head back."
Just as Randy turned to leave, a quiet voice came from under the jacket.
"...I was planning to do better."
Wayne's voice was low, muffled.
"But... I just lost it."
No one spoke. The tension in the air shifted slightly.
"They called me Randy's hanger-on, you know?"
"...You had every right to be mad," Randy said. "Not that I ever wanted a loser hanger-on like you anyway."
He laughed, and Wayne sniffled before letting out a chuckle of his ow, "Right?"
"Wayne? Just a tagalong? No way... You're already a good enough friend."
At Randy's calm words, Wayne's voice trembled, "Y-You..."
"Don't suddenly be nice like that. You'll make me cry, man."
Randy let out a laugh at Wayne's wavering tone. "What? You tearing up?"
"I'm not crying."
"Then take the jacket off."
"You were the one who told me to wear it."
Wayne's voice wavered again, though this time it was tinged with laughter. Randy stuck out his tongue, playful. "Yeah, I did, didn't I."
"I thought I could fight a little longer..."
Randy responded softly to Wayne's quiet murmur. "I see."
"But hey... I actually landed a few hits. On that Arthur Lance guy—my first time."
Wayne's voice trembled again. Randy gave him a nod. "I see."
"I'm not lying, alright?"
"No one said you were."
"I really mean it..."
His voice grew more strained. Drops began to fall, soaking the earth beneath them. Randy and the others turned away, looking up toward the sky.
"...Sorry, Randy."
"For what?"
"I embarrassed you. They said, 'If this is his follower, then you know how weak he is.'"
Wayne trembled, shoulders shaking. The girls nearby silently looked away.
Randy gave a dry chuckle.
"Don't sweat it. You're covered in mud from head to toe already. One more smear won't make a difference now."
Wayne let out a faint laugh too.
"...Yeah, that's true."
Randy grimaced.
"You're supposed to deny that, idiot. Say one more thing like that and I'll knock you out."
Their laughter overlapped, quiet but genuine, and eventually faded.
"...I'm the only one among us with nothing," Wayne murmured.
No one answered. Looking at the group, it was plain to see—everyone but Wayne held some kind of role or title.
"That's why... I just wanted to help you. Even if just a little."
Randy didn't reject those feelings. No matter how much one insists on equality, what a person carries in their heart—their fears and worries—can't be seen by others. And if someone hesitates, even a small difference can feel like an unbridgeable gap.
That's why only the person themselves, through time and effort, can close it. Wayne and Randy hadn't known each other long. It made sense for Wayne to still feel uncertain.
But even so... because it's Randy, there were words only he could say.
"You're probably already helping more than you think."
Wayne let out a weak, unsure breath.
"...Is that so?"
Just then, the school bell echoed through the academy grounds, signaling the end of the day.
"Jeez... what an impatient bell."
As Randy muttered, the street ahead grew loud. Nearly twenty people appeared—members of Edgar and Arthur's faction, with Edgar himself at the lead.
The group paused briefly upon seeing Randy's group, tension flickering in the air. But Edgar, walking confidently at the front, kept moving, and the others followed his lead.
As they passed, Edgar looked back, smug.
"I appreciate it, Randolph Victor," he said, wearing a sly grin.
Randy gave a dry, unbothered reply.
"Yeah..."
Edgar narrowed his eyes.
"This little spat before the big one... The student council election is just a warm-up. I should thank you for helping me see that I only need people who are useful."
His words were barbed. Arthur smirked beside him and added, staring at Wayne and Gael,
"We've no use for dead weight anymore. What we need are comrades with high ideals... people who'll risk everything for them," Edgar added. He cast a glance at Randy's group, then let out a small huff of laughter.
"Our scattered group, our scattered thoughts... One day, we'll turn everything upside down. And—"
His eyes landed on Liz.
"—We'll return what rightfully belongs to its proper place."
Hearing the weight in Edgar's words, Randy let out an exaggerated sigh. "Yeah, yeah. That's enough outta you."
He gave a small, half-hearted wave. "Good luck with all that. I'm cheering you on."
Clicking his tongue, Edgar turned away. "Let's go."
With that, he led his group toward the front courtyard. Carriages had already gathered, likely summoned by the school bell.
The laughter between Wayne and Randy had long since faded.
"...I'm the only guy here who's got nothing."
No one replied to Wayne's whisper. The truth hung heavy—he was the only one without a title.
"That's why I just wanted to be useful. Even a little..."
Edgar, seeing Randy's uninterested wave, clicked his tongue again.
"Move out," he ordered, and strode toward the courtyard with his group in tow. The carriages, already waiting, stood lined up.
Among them were the ones for Catherine and Cecilia as well. It was almost time to leave. The day was nearly done.
Then, suddenly, Randy called out loud enough to echo.
"Hey! Prince!"
Edgar turned with a suspicious frown, and Randy flashed a crooked smile.
"My buddy was strong, wasn't he?"
Edgar and the others looked at each other. Then, without warning, they burst into laughter.
"...He was strong. Scary strong," Edgar replied, almost like he meant it.
Randy gave a subtle nod.
"I see. Sorry to keep you."
With a light wave, Randy dismissed the moment. Edgar scoffed and turned away again. The group walked on, slowly disappearing into the carriages.
Watching them go, Randy muttered under his breath.
"Wayne. Leon. Next time... beat them."
Leon blinked, caught off guard.
"Beat them? What, again—?"
He hurriedly shook his head. "There won't be another chance, you know—"
"You don't get it. My gut's telling me we're not done."
Randy laughed, and Leon gave a wry smile. "A rematch, huh..."
"It'll be fine."
"Based on what?"
"Just get stronger. That's all. That's how you answer your doubts."
As Edgar's group vanished into their carriages, Randy recalled Wayne's earlier frustration.
In the end, no one can solve those feelings for you. Only you can.
Next to him, Wayne tossed his jacket over.
"Easy for you to say... I'm not some monster like you..."
"You can still get stronger. Both of you."
Randy said it clearly, and Wayne averted his eyes, his face tense.
"So just—"
"Believe in yourself."
Randy gave Wayne a firm pat on the shoulder.
"I'm not telling you to slice iron with your bare hands, Wayne."
With a soft laugh, he patted Wayne's shoulder again and started walking toward the courtyard.
"Let's head back."
The bell marking the day's end rang loudly once more.
Wayne and Leon stood there as the others walked ahead. Luke came up and tapped their shoulders with both hands.
"Well... I'll say this much. That guy's eyes—he means it."
That one line was enough.
The fighting spirit that had dimmed inside the two—defeated and hopeless—began to flicker back to life.
And as if to reflect that quiet flame, the setting sun painted the western sky in a deep, burning crimson.
Notes:
• Elcia - A serious girl with long brown hair tied in a bun, from the Baron Laurent family. She is a spy for Edgar's faction, motivated by her family's declining status after political shifts.
• Gael - A quiet boy with green curly hair, from the Viscount Ernest family. He is a spy for Dario's faction, acting due to his family's precarious position after the fall of the royal family.
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