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There are people in this world who act on ideas so bizarre they defy imagination.

Those who achieve great deeds that way are called geniuses; those who do not are called fools.

“Seems like that guy wants to be popular with girls, so when there are girls around, he gets even worse.”
“…?”
“…Huh, so he’s doing it because he wants to be popular, nya?”

I had wondered why he didn’t seem particularly malicious, or why he was so unbelievably bad at reading the room… but seriously?

“He kept glancing over at the smaller girl too.”
“She’s cute, so maybe he was trying to get her attention?”

Right after the simple training session ended, the girls who had invited me with “Want to talk for a bit?” looked at me and said things I couldn’t understand. It sounded like the common continental language, but they were words I’d never heard before.

“Alice, how does it feel to be popular, nya?”
“Look, goosebumps.”

I got such chills my fever practically went down.

“No way, huh?”
“No way, nya.”
“I don’t think so either…”

As the girls all chanted “no way” in unison, I nodded so hard I almost got dizzy. The truth was way too unexpected.

“If he comes near Alice, I’ll bite him to death…”
“Big sis…”

It’s fine, I won’t leave it all to Sufi alone. …Proteins dissolve in strong alkaline solutions, right? Sodium hydroxide… how do you even make that?

“He always does that kind of stuff in front of girls, so everyone hates him to death. He’ll give up and stop coming soon anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

■■■

After the instructor shut up the butcher’s kid, he gave a light lecture on martial arts, and then the lesson continued for a while in the form of individual consultations.

There is a technique called bodily enhancement, “Renki,” which increases physical ability by circulating magical power inside the body, and martial techniques apparently developed from that.

By using Renki to boost one’s power and continuing to train specific movements based on a clear mental image, sometimes the gods will acknowledge it as an “Art.”

Once you reach that point, you give the technique a name, picture yourself activating it, and trace the movement while shouting the technique’s name to activate it. In the end, the basic principle was the same as magic.

Magic takes the vague image of supernatural phenomena in one’s head and gives it a clear form using the framework of an incantation.

Alchemy reinforces the image of manipulating matter with magical power by giving it directionality through combinations of symbols.

Martial techniques use fixed movements in place of incantations.

I didn’t really understand the part about “the gods acknowledging it,” but I interpreted it as some kind of control system or physical law created by ancient supernatural beings.

The more widespread and established a technique is, the easier it is to learn, and “Slash” is the most basic and easiest slashing-type martial technique to acquire. There’s no restriction on weapons either—apparently there are even experts who can activate it with kicks or knife-hand strikes.

Instructor Barnaby was about to say this before being interrupted by the butcher’s kid, but most beastfolk can apparently use a technique close to this “Renki” from birth. Constantly, on an unconscious level.

It was described as a racial trait, something like an innate ability (a unique skill). There’s still a lot about this world I don’t know.

Humans have no particular weaknesses but no real strengths either. Beastfolk, on the other hand, are far inferior in magical aptitude but excel physically. In pure close combat or hand-to-hand fighting, humans supposedly have no chance of beating beastfolk.

The moment Sufi and Noche learned the principle behind Renki, the way they handled their bodies improved dramatically, and Instructor Barnaby’s face actually twitched.

As for me, I couldn’t do it even when I tried. My magical power was below the beastfolk average, and my physical ability was below the human average. I was an incompetent character with no excuses.

It was sad.

And just like that, the useful training session ended. Everyone dispersed, leaving behind the butcher’s kid, who had been assigned special additional training.

I reported the completion at the reception desk inside the guild hall, received a small slip of paper as a certificate of completion, and was given a brief explanation about future training.

As part of support for newcomers, adventurers of C-rank or above who have free time apparently act as instructors every few days. The content includes martial techniques like today’s, combat skills needed for requests, scouting techniques, and also magic, spirit arts, taming arts, summoning arts… even alchemy.

I was interested in how these are used in real situations and in combat, so after consulting, I decided to keep attending.

That’s when the kids who had been friendly during the training called out to me, and we ended up talking together to exchange information as well.

■■■

“We’re from an orphanage.”
“Yeah, in District Two of the slums.”

Their names were Nick and Midd for the boys, and Sena and Misa for the girls.

They were from an orphanage in the slums, and apparently aimed to become adventurers to find work and help support its management, even just a little. They wanted to get their licenses earlier, but the Sister who managed the orphanage had forbidden it until everyone in the group turned ten.

In many existing countries, the higher one’s status, the longer their name tends to be, and the lower their status, the shorter. When written in katakana, about four characters is commoner-class, while five or more is often nobility.

Some people even give their children long names hoping they’ll become someone important, so it’s just a tendency, not a rule—only a rough guideline.

So both Chýtis Sigrun and Chýtis Philip are said to be common-born and still don’t have family names. In terms of superstition, it fits perfectly, though.

Looking back into history, it seems to be a remnant of the Zergia Empire era, and that’s probably why names with different phonetic flavors are mixed together.

Nick and Sena were both ten years old—the boy who had spoken to me, and the girl with braids. Like westerners, both their hair and eye colors were brownish.

Midd and Misa were siblings, with Midd being eleven and Misa ten. They had the same reddish-brown hair, a bit messy, and a somewhat reserved air about them.

They were all older than me, but none of them acted intimidating; if anything, they seemed used to dealing with younger kids.

“Want to try coming with us?”
“They can’t, people like that are around quite a lot, you know.”
“Ahh…”

“People like that” meant the butcher’s kid, Vade.

I understood, but in this town, kids like Nick and gang were actually the minority. Apparently, there are many humans who dislike other races.

It’s a trading city that travelers from the east can visit relatively easily, so compared to other towns, it’s apparently still much better.

“But still, why does he hate us so much, nya?”
“That’s the thing—it’s weird.”
“Weird?”

According to the Sister who took care of them, discrimination against beastfolk had existed from the beginning. Because of a war long ago, hostility has continued ever since.

But they themselves only saw beastfolk a few times a year. Other races brought along by nobles or merchants as slaves—commonly called “lessers”—were about all they ever saw, and even those almost never came into town.

So even if discrimination existed, it was at most a dull, lingering contempt.

Then, a few years ago, around the time the Sister was assigned to this orphanage, a priest of the Luminism Faith began claiming: “Beastfolk are beings brought by God to serve humans, yet they are wicked beasts who defied humans. They must atone for their sins.”

“The adults in the slums and the priests of the Luminism Faith—everyone just talks trash about beastfolk. We walk around town a lot, but nowadays, seeing even one beastfolk a year is lucky, two at most, right? And they’re travelers who disappear right away.”
“Now that you mention it… that is strange, nya.”
“It is weird.”
“Right? Super weird.”

Watching everyone nod in agreement, I felt a little puzzled. At the Alchemists’ Guild, nothing like that… well, some western alchemists did pick fights with us oddly often, but still.

“We’re being taken care of at the alchemists’ guild, but we never heard anything like that.”
“E–Eh? You guys know those alchemists, Sufi!?”
“What!? Really!?”
“No way… but I heard that great alchemists from the east never go to church. That they’re on bad terms.”

Well, alchemists really don’t go to church. It’s less that relations are bad, and more that the church genuinely hates them, so if they approached, they’d probably get salt thrown at them.

Especially since most alchemists follow the Star Dragon Faith, and their production and sale of medicines, treatment of illnesses and injuries, and other “helping people” work clash head-on with the vested interests of the Luminism Faith. There’s no way they could get along.

“Hey, hey, alchemists are mostly men, right?”
“Aren’t there any looking for lovers!? Even a mistress would be fine!”

Meanwhile, the ten-year-old girls latched hard onto the word “alchemist,” while the boys visibly recoiled.

…Ah, right. Unless you’re a devout follower of Luminism, being an alchemist is an elite research profession that even commoners can enter. Depending on skill, you can be valued by countries and lords too, even while watching the church’s mood.

Unlike adventurers, they’re researchers—mostly male, and basically shut-ins. From a girl’s perspective, they’re prime targets, but unless you join the alchemists’ guild, you’d never have any real connection with them.

It might be exciting talk for the girls, but still…

“Uh, um, Sufi doesn’t really understand…”
“Can we come visit next time!?”
“Let’s be friends!!”
“Aw, wahhh…”

Sufi, having let something slip, was completely flustered. Overwhelmed by the girls’ pressure, her tail was almost tucked between her legs.

“No way alchemists would bother with slum brats…”
“Sorry about my sister…”

When the boys buried their heads in their hands, I reached out from atop Filia’s back and patted their shoulders to console them.

Introducing them wouldn’t be a problem, but… I really didn’t want to see the sight of unmarried elite men in their thirties getting happy over being introduced to ten-year-old girls.