Chapter 2: Everyone has a letter of resignation in their heart (2)

“Once again, heartfelt congratulations to all our graduates.”

The academy headmaster’s long, tedious speech finally ended.

Having attended graduation ceremonies for three years, I still can’t get used to those drawn-out, formal remarks.
Is such formality really necessary?

It’d be far more beneficial for students to invite a renowned hero or great hero like Harkur, famous across the continent, to give practical advice.
That’s what I think, at least.

Honestly, I get it—the headmaster has no aptitude for education.
From what I’ve seen, he hasn’t even tried to overcome that.

He doesn’t care about the students’ education.
It’s just him reveling in his own importance, using these “inspirational” speeches as an excuse to boast.

Anyway.
The boring part is over.
Now, the next…

“Next, we’ll hear from the valedictorian and former student council president, Jenny Harkur. Please come forward.”
“Yes, yes…!”

It’s Jenny’s turn.

Class representative, student council president.
In this Hero Academy, where only the most talented gather, it’s an honor bestowed upon only the very best.

…Ah, memories of the past three years flood back.
Painful memories.

How much bone-grinding effort that gentle, unambitious girl had to put in to reach this point.
Fewer than ten people here would know the truth of it.

Aptitude—natural talent—doesn’t solve everything.
Aptitude is just potential, not skill.

To awaken that potential, effort is essential.
Especially for her, with an absurd 55 aptitudes, she had to put in 55 times the effort.

Studying theory 55 times harder.
Gaining 55 times the practical experience.
Applying it 55 times over.

Honestly, calling her an S-rank or A-rank genius sounds nice, but it’s not something a human should have to endure.
Especially not someone as unambitious as Jenny.

I practically had to drag her, someone who didn’t even care about becoming that strong,
and frantically search for knowledge I barely understood myself, telling her to study this and learn that.
That’s all I remember.

It was a relief when she finally started seeking out knowledge on her own after the first year—those initial months were pure hell.

Still, S-rank talent is undeniably impressive.
Just explaining a few concepts from books, and within a month or two, she’d become proficient in that field.

I didn’t do much, but I can’t help feeling a bit proud.

“Greetings, graduates, students, and faculty of the Hero Academy.”

Lost in thought, I hadn’t noticed Jenny take the stage, starting her speech with formal greetings.

Her voice trembled slightly with nerves.
To think someone who served as student council president is still so timid.

Well, she’s improved a lot.
Before, speaking in front of a crowd like this would’ve been unthinkable for her.

Soon, the trembling in her voice faded as her nerves settled.
After some rehearsed lines, she continued.

“Above all, I’m most grateful to Teacher Kane.”
“…?”

My name came up out of nowhere.

“Kane…?”
“That pseudo-teacher?”
“Teacher Kane…? The commoner…?”

As my name was mentioned, students and faculty alike started murmuring, looking puzzled.

Makes sense.
The name of a guy they dismissed as a commoner is coming from the mouth of the academy’s top student.
And not as an insult or mockery, but as praise.

“Teacher Kane is a truly dedicated educator. He actively guided a timid person like me to the position of student council president and taught me countless academic subjects, skills, and magic, enabling me to become the top student.”

Mentioning me in her graduation speech?
And with such excessive praise?

I just assessed her aptitudes and gave her a bit of guidance to match them.
I helped as much as I could.

…Though, since her aptitudes were the highest I’d ever seen, I did put in extra effort.
But honestly, anyone could’ve done that much.

Is she trying to boost my reputation?
Maybe it’s the bond we built in the Harkur estate.
She’s kind and considerate, so it makes sense.

…Though, honestly, this will probably just make people despise me more.

“Hah, as if that lousy commoner teacher could do that.”
“She’s just kind. Probably mentioning him because he mumbled a few things in passing.”

See?
My reputation’s already in the dirt.
Praising me so extravagantly will only spark backlash.

Well, whatever. I’m quitting today, so it doesn’t matter.

“Teacher Kane is well-versed in nearly every field and possesses exceptional skills. Sometimes, I even wondered if he’s an undiscovered hero. I believe he might have greater abilities than anyone here!”
“…”
“That concludes my speech. Thank you.”

Whoa, she went that far?
This is so embarrassing…
Isn’t that overhyping me?

After showering me with praise that made me cringe, she stepped down from the stage,
wearing a radiant smile, as if relieved and refreshed.

The dumbfounded expressions of students and faculty, glancing between her and me, were just a bonus.

“…? What’s this?”
“My resignation letter.”

I’d decided three years ago, and I have no regrets.
So, I handed the envelope labeled “Resignation Letter” to the headmaster matter-of-factly.

He started rubbing his neatly trimmed gray whiskers,
a habit he shows when something displeases him—I’ve seen it enough over three years to know.

I don’t know what’s bothering him, but he probably wanted this too, right?
When Marquis Harkur was alive, he couldn’t openly harass me because of the family’s influence, but he subtly pressured me to quit.
After Harkur passed, he openly nitpicked every minor mistake, urging me to leave.

Honestly, if it weren’t for Jenny, I’d have quit this filthy, ugly academy long ago.
I stayed because it was Marquis Harkur’s final request and because I worried about her like a little sister.

“Hmph, you wouldn’t leave when we told you to, but now that Jenny’s graduated and your connection’s cut, you’re tucking tail and running? Typical low-class commoner thinking.”
“…”

What an honest guy.
No filter.

I’ve been treated like a lowlife since birth, so it doesn’t even make me angry.
Just annoying, like a buzzing fly.

“Guess you sweet-talked that kind, talented Jenny somehow, but you’re still a worthless commoner. A nobody.”

No need to engage with people like this.
They’ll interpret things however they want and act accordingly.

“Yep, this worthless nobody’s running away. Goodbye.”

As I gave a casual farewell and turned to leave, a string of insults laced with curses echoed behind me.

How dare a mere commoner ignore him, how impudent, watch out at night.

Oh, scary.
A so-called hero who saves the world and protects the people, threatening a commoner like that.

Guess I’d better leave this academy quick before I get too scared.

Clank—Slam!

As I exited the Hero Academy, the massive iron gate I passed through shut with a harsh clang.

A grand, towering gate that everyone dreams of entering.
But to me, it was a prison I’d longed to escape.

I’m finally free.
I’ve finally left this place.
I’ll never climb those high walls again.

“…Phew.”

The only thing nagging at me is Jenny.
Having graduated, she’ll soon start working as an imperial hero,
carrying out missions under the empire’s orders.

Most with hero or great hero qualities graduate from the Hero Academy and serve as heroes for their respective nations.

If adventurers are freelancers who take any job without affiliation,
heroes and great heroes are like field agents handling major issues or national problems.

“Worrying.”

Can that timid girl handle being thrust into the political arena,
caught between the empire’s nobles and ordinary citizens like a sandwich?

“…”

Then, her face flashes in my mind, eyes sparkling as she showered me with embarrassing praise.

“Pfft, with that kind of guts, she’ll be fine.”

To praise a nobody commoner so extravagantly in front of countless heroes and great heroes?
She’ll do well at anything.

“The shy little girl’s grown up a lot.”

Like sending a grown daughter off to be married, I shook off the last speck of lingering attachment.

“Was a sh*tty time meeting you, and let’s never see each other again!”

With a hearty farewell to the Hero Academy, I left the place behind.

“Hmph, finally gone.”

Though overshadowed by the Harkur name, Parus Reminant was a hero who fought alongside Harkur in his prime,
and now the 13th headmaster of the Hero Academy.

Watching Kane walk away after shouting something at the gate, he scoffed.

“A beast with no bloodline or worth… Really rubs me the wrong way.”

Parus recalled Kane’s impassive attitude earlier,
and the way he always seemed unfazed no matter what was said, his face twisting into a scowl.

‘Harkur… He’s just like that guy.’

In his memory, one man overlapped with Kane.
Harkur, the mightiest hero, who died two years ago from an incurable illness.

He was the same.
No matter how much they insulted or attacked him for being a commoner, he’d just laugh it off heartily.

Parus really didn’t like it.
But Harkur proved his strength, earning a marquis title.
He overturned his lowly origins with sheer ability.

Because of that, despite disliking his commoner background, Parus deeply respected Harkur as a person.

But this Kane guy was different.

‘That fool, unlike Harkur, has no real ability.’

Yet he acts all nonchalant like Harkur.
And for some reason, Jenny Harkur, the youngest daughter of Harkur and one of the most talented heroes in history, holds him in high esteem.

‘I hate filthy commoners, but I hate talentless ones who act all high and mighty even more.’

That’s why he despised Kane so much.

‘But… why?’

Deep in his heart,
an odd feeling stirred.

‘Why did I see that insignificant guy… overlapping with the Harkur from our school days?’

An unknown something.
An unidentifiable sense of unease crept in.