Olivia Lanche was in the training grounds of the fifth-year dormitory.0

—“You said you don’t want to learn the sword anymore?”0

—“Yes, father.”0

—“Why is that?”0

—“Because I don’t want to learn a skill that can hurt someone, even if I don’t intend to use it that way.”0

—“…”0

She knew those words were meaningless.0

She had already learned as much as she could and knew long ago that there was nothing more to learn, after having been told so back in the third year.0

Nevertheless, Olivia Lanche was afraid of becoming more adept at violence. She was scared of how easy it was becoming for her to hurt someone. Olivia distanced herself from violence and even the potential for violence.0

But now, Olivia was holding a sword.0

Controlling the power flowing through her body was something she hadn’t done in a long time, but it was excessively easy.0

Olivia was now about to enter a tournament. An open-level class tournament, and Miss Temple.0

Neither Miss Temple nor the open class tournament interested Olivia in the first place.0

She didn’t care whether that annoying first-year Ellen participated or not.0

—“Miss Lanche. It’s okay if you don’t push yourself so hard anymore.”0

—“… No, it’s fine. I still have some leeway.”0

—“I know the situation. But no matter how tight our facility’s budget is, Miss Lanche, you’re still a student.”0

Nothing else mattered.0

Money… Money was needed.0

There were countless war orphans caused by the Great War.0

Just as even the nation couldn’t alleviate all poverty,...0