What do you call a half-baked cookie? A waste of time. That’s what you call it, because that’s what it is. Now, how did I manage to bake a cookie only halfway? I blame Penelope. That red-haired, green-eyed, drill-haired nuisance.

  “Oh, Charlatan, I’m still lost in the maze, help me! Help me!” I say while using [Disguise] to mimic her voice.

  “I did not say that!” Penelope says as we dangle at the edge of a pit.

  “You might as well have. I was perfectly content baking some cookies at the exit, but then you just had to let out a fearful scream,” I say as Penelope holds onto my shirt.

  “I did not scream. It was… one of the creatures down here. It was the one who screamed, not me, and you didn’t have to come and find me. I was handling it on my own,” she lies.

  “Oh, sure. I was just going to leave you alone. I’m sure I wasn’t going to hear about it later,” I say sarcastically as the rope Penelope is holding onto begins to fray.

  “You didn’t even help. In fact, you’re the reason we’re even in this pit to begin with. What was it that you said? Ah, ‘Don’t worry, I know the way back to the exit. Follow me.’ Weren’t those your words?” she asks as she slowly pulls me up onto her shoulder.

  “What, no! You must be remembering some other conversation we had. I said ‘Don’t follow me. It’s dangerous over here.’ You really should get your hearing checked,” I [lie].

  The rope suddenly snaps right as Penelope gets her foot onto the ledge. Rolling onto solid ground, I quickly help her off the edge.

  “Well, at least we lost those weird creatures,” she says, dusting off her clothes.

  “I think it’s less that we lost them and more that they fell into the pit. Either way, a good outcome. Wouldn’t you say so, Penelope?” I ask as we continue our journey through the maze.

  “You know, it’s only us in this Dungeon, since Hopper is still in the infirmary.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I ask with fear pulsing through me.

  “I could tell them that ‘The Chosen One’ fell into a pit and died. I tried my hardest to help him, but to no avail. He will be greatly missed,” she says while overacting.

  “Ah, yes, I’m sure the people would love to hear that The Chosen One is dead. It won’t cause panic or anything like that.”

  “Is he dead?”

  “Who?”

  “The Chosen One?”

  “He’s standing right here in front of you, isn’t he?” I [Lie].

  Penelope looks me up and down with a worried look. “Forget about it,” she says with a sigh.

  Doing just that, we navigate our way through the maze until we find ourselves at the exit of the maze and this floor. More importantly, my portable magic oven is still here.

  “We should probably stop here. Don’t want to get too far without Hopper. We’ll continue after he gets back,” she explains.

  “I’m surprised you’re not wanting to continue. Guess you have at least one reasonable bone in your body,” I retort.

  “It’s the logical move to do. If we get too far in, Hopper might get attacked when he’s by himself. As much as I respect his skill, I would rather not risk his life,” she says, sitting down across from me.

  “You’re still feeling guilty about the Giant thing?”

  “Yeah, but you were right, I should use it as a learning experience. Ugh, I hate saying that. It feels foreign to my mouth,” she says with a sweet smile.

  “I’m usually right, just so you know.”

  “Don’t push it. By the way, have you been challenged to a duel yet?” she asks as she pours mana into the oven.

  “Thankfully, not yet. Most of the second years haven’t bothered to even come see me. I’m hoping it will stay that way,” I say as I try to salvage my half-baked cookies.

  “Is the great and powerful ‘Chosen One’ scared of fighting a couple of second years?” she asks with a cheeky smile.

  “Well, holding back so much is… straining in a sense. I wouldn’t want to slip up and accidentally hurt somebody,” I [Lie].

  “Sure. I’m sure that’s the case.”

  “Well, how about you, oh high and mighty Penelope. Has anybody challenged you to a duel?”

  “Well… No, but that’s because they are obviously trying to gauge my strength. It’s not because of any other reason.”

  With a devilish smile, I lean forward. “What other reason could there be, Penelope?”

  “None! I mean none. There’s no other reason. In fact, I’m so bored I may go and challenge somebody to a duel myself,” she says, making a ‘smooth’ recovery.

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  “Yes, no reason at all. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the rumor going around that you fight like a vicious Warg,” I say nonchalantly.

  “Where did you hear that?” she asks with surprise.

  “Around. So, apparently, you fight like a vicious Warg,” I say, stifling a laugh.

  “I do not, and I admonish those baseless rumors. I fight gracefully like how a gazelle runs. I fight nothing like a vicious Warg. My moves are targeted and… refined,” she says, trying to make herself feel better.

  “It’s not a bad thing if you fight like a vicious Warg. All that matters is if you win in the end.”

  “Maybe for you, but for me it’s different. I have an image to maintain. I must win and remain graceful, as is befitting of the Sylvian family,” she says with an energetic tone that seems a bit dull.

  “Sounds restrictive and dumb,” I whisper the last part to myself.

  Penelope ignores the second part. “Restrictive is one word for it. A privilege is another.”

  “Is it a privilege that you wanted?”

  “...”

  “I’m sorry if I hit a nerve. I was just wondering what you wanted,” I say.

  Penelope stays silent for a long while, and as she goes to speak, a blinding white fills our sight. Guess our time is up.

  An explosion of sugar erupts in my mouth as I eat another spoonful of ice cream. This has to be my new favorite food. It definitely tops that caramel I had earlier.

  “What did I tell you? It’s good, isn’t it?” Helia asks with a smug look.

  “Ok, I admit this is some pretty good stuff. Where did you get it?” I ask as I kick my feet up in the relative warmth of the greenhouse.

  “There’s a new store in the capital that’s selling sweets and desserts. They have stuff there that would put our cafeteria to shame,” she gloats.

  “It’s definitely leagues ahead of the stuff in the cafeteria. It sounds like a popular place. How long are the lines?” I ask, wondering if it’s a prime pickpocketing area.

  “Oh, the lines stretch halfway down the block, but the prices are affordable. Only seven silver for that ice cream,” she explains.

  The shock of her words sends the ice cream down the wrong pipe and promptly leads to some choking. Did she say seven silver? For this small thing? That would be enough for a full meal. I guess for a noble, seven silver is cheap. I’m not hard up on money because of my lovely friend Hopper, but even that’s a little steep for me. I guess I could take Mateo to go get some this weekend, but the lines are long. I wouldn’t want to distract him for too long.

  Noticing the worry on my face, Helia sighs. “If you're worried about the lines, I could get you a reservation.”

  “You can do that?” I ask, dumbfounded.

  “Yeah, I know some people. I’ll put your name down. It’s no big deal, especially for my one and only club member. Think of it as a thank you for helping out,” she says with a soft smile.

  “You do know that you’re blackmailing me into staying in this club, right?” I remind.

  “Potayto, potahto. You’re in the club now and don’t you like it?” she asks with a knowing look.

  “Well, it’s not like I don’t like it.”

  Suddenly, a bad feeling comes from the door of the greenhouse.

  “Something wrong?” she asks.

  “Hide me!” I say as I slip behind one of the shelves.

  The moment I do, the door swings open to reveal a blond human wearing a green school uniform along with a dark sword at his side.

  “Can I help you, second year?” Helia asks with an annoyed look.

  “Apologies, Ma’am. I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of The Chosen One?” he asks with a suave voice.

  “Well, he’s certainly not here. So, if you could please leave. Your aura is bumming out the plants.”

  “I heard that The Chosen One is a member of this club. Are you the president?” he asks, seemingly ignoring Helia.

  Helia cocks her head with a sinister smile. “I am the president of this club, and if you don’t leave, then I’ll have to make you,” she says calmly.

  “Whoa, I’m just asking some questions, Ma’am. I’ll get out of your hair, or rather vines, soon enough. There’s no need to get angry. I just have one question,” he says with his arms up.

  Helia shakes her as she flicks her fingers. A small brown magic circle appears at the base of his feet. “I told you to leave, second year. Have a nice trip,” she says with a little wave.

  “Wai-” the ground underneath him suddenly opens up, swallowing him whole.

  “What did you do to him?” I ask as I peer out.

  “I sent him across campus. He should learn to listen to his seniors,” she says as she flips through a book.

  “If you know earth magic, why did you make me go dig for dirt? Couldn’t you have done it in half the time?” I ask.

  “Don’t worry about that. Instead, why don’t you tell me why you're hiding from that second year?” she asks, obviously changing the topic.

  I sigh as I sit back down and grab my ice cream. “I’m not entirely sure myself. I had a feeling that he was going to be trouble. I can’t tell what kind of trouble, but I can tell that it’s going to be annoying. So, I’d rather not see him.”

  “Your instincts are right. It’s best if you avoid him as much as you can. He’s trouble,” she says with a serious voice.

  “What do you mean? What kind of trouble?”

  “For one, he’s strong. There was a good amount of magical resistance when I used my [Skill]. More than I would expect from a second year, and then there was his eyes.”

  “What about them?”

  “The way he looked at me. He didn’t regard me as a person. I don’t have to explain why that should worry you, right?” she asks me with a knowing tone.

  “No. No, you don’t.”

  “He’ll be back eventually. I recommend you find out who he is and come up with some sort of plan,” she says as she leans back and places the book on her face.

  “Yeah, I guess I have to.”

  I was hoping to somehow avoid having to do a single duel during this Class War, but if this guy is as persistent as I think he is, I might not have that opportunity. Guess I should come up with a plan, or maybe I could wing it. Eh, why not a little bit of both? That’s never hurt anybody. Well, I guess until now.

  With a devilish smile, I let out a small chuckle. “This should be fun.”