Chapter 24:

Such Great Heights

Solveig the Great: I Defeated the Demon King, But If I Feel Insufficient I’ll Explode?!

SOLVEIG

“Are you sure class is this way?”

Miriam rolled her eyes. “Solveig, honey… are you forgetting I was dux of this damn school? For all the good that did me…”

Solveig didn't have a response for that one. She was still chewing on it when Miriam opened the doors in front of them.

Wow...

An open air room, with the roof slightly open to let the sunlight in.

Wonder what they do for when it rains…?

It was rustic. Everything was made of wood, there was the crackle of a fire somewhere deep inside the hall, the smell of woodsmoke and old varnish instead of the cold stone-and-glass perfume that clung to the rest of the academy...

It was so much like home...

Rows and rows of tables stacked on top of each other, overlooking a central stone pedestal, with various animal bones and… and a big skull overlooking the scene…

Which looked eerily familiar.

No way…

Is that…

LITTLE BEAST!!!

They hung my mount’s skull onto that back wall!

You know, one time, her main mount got her close enough to one of the Demon King’s main guys before she chopped their head clean off!

This was so coooool!

Unfortunately, her mount had died valiantly in the final battle against the Demon King, but this was probably the best way to celebrate her short but bright life!

Little Beast would have loved it…

…Now where’s Cain?

It didn’t take long to scan the room and find him.

He was sitting in a quiet corner. His back was straight as was custom for royals. Theoretically, an air of royalty should be emanating from his figure.

But right now he looked akin to a wilting flower than a thorny rose…

Shiiiit…

Time to add another task to my list.

We needed allies.

And soon.

That’s right.

Solveig’s next task is to gather allies for—ideally those who are influential and powerful—into Cain’s camp. Right now, it seems no one is with Cain’s ideology. He seemed weak!

Solveig all but pushed Miriam forward toward Cain.

“Solveig, where are you taking… oh.”

Needless to say, color drained from Cain’s face.

“A-Ah… hi! Heh, fancy seeing you here… Miriam.”

“Don’t… Cain, please don’t make this weirder than it is.”

“I m-meant 100% of what I said yesterday, by the way! You deserve a new room. And we will investigate how such an administrative error could occur in the first place.”

“Thank you kindly. But…”

Miriam sighed.

“I know it ain’t your fault already.”

“...You’ve been listening to Solveig, haven’t you?”

“It’s half-Solveig and half-me, really. The powers that be clearly don’t want you to succeed, the amount of times they tried to screw you over—my dorm room, their attempt to get you to botch your speech and now straight-up spying? It can’t be coincidences anymore. And now Solveig’s collateral to that objective…”

Cain hitched. “I concede people would rather not want me up there… but you think Solveig’s quackery about a conspiracy is real?”

The shorter girl growled. “I’m not a nutter!!! I’ve dealt with these things before!”

"QUIET, you runts! Quiet!"

A deep, masculine voice—almost animalistic—emanated from the front of the class.

Miriam seemed to know this person with the way her eyes lit up. "Ah. Mister Harold. Heard rumors from the other students… and he’s… well…"

Stomp.

Stomp.

His steps were as subtle as thunderstrikes.

The ground near-shook as he made his way toward the front of the class—center stage.

He finally settled down with his hands behind his big belly.

"MY NAME IS HAROLD! Harold Gunnarson!"

Harold had an elaborate hairstyle, thick braids running down either side of his skull, tied off with what looked like actual bone. His beard was magnificent, nearly reaching his chest, and his forearms alone looked like they could bench-press the lectern he was currently gripping.

"The Great Hall should inspire anyone of true Illustrian descent. Our earliest buildings were raised exactly like this, wood over stone. I do hope its awesome aura motivates you to study. Because if it doesn’t, well, may the gods help you. And your grades."

That got the students chuckling. He let the room settle before continuing.

"This subject is not offered to the younger years. And for good reason."

It was at this point people started going mad.

“He’s going to do it. Finally!!”

“I’ve been waiting my whole schooling career for this!”

“Uh huh! Uh huh!”

Harold swept one arm toward the room at large.

"What I'm about to teach you is a program not very common in other parts of the world… Illustrian Foundation Studies. A hybrid discipline, several subjects married together because none of them stand up straight alone. History. Arena combat. Spiritualism. Three legs of the same table. Remove one, and the whole thing falls. This class will be without textbooks. You are only permitted notes, but you are not permitted to scribble away! This is perhaps the most important class you will ever sit in your lives! And it’s important you take it in as memory—not as recall!"

He slammed a palm flat against the lectern.

"You will learn why we fought. You will learn how we fought. And you will learn what it cost the men who did the fighting, so that you understand, in your bones, that none of it was ever free. After all…"

Harold gestured to the skull gazing down over the students.

“One of our own defeated the Demon King. And we all know how much Solveig the Great had to suffer for us all to be here.”

Solveig’s cheeks started going red.

“Now find your seats, get settled, make some new friends! Our class will begin in five minutes on the dot.”

Just like that, the various students scraped their chairs against the floor as they got up to get settled.

Solveig could see the big honchos settle into their respective corners of the room. Isolde with her clique, D'Igoll with his. Even Rick's, as dispassionate as they were, stuck together.

Luckily for her, it didn’t take long for Solveig to build a base for Cain.

Among the students who were settling down into individual, non-gang affiliated seats, were her targets.

A pair of twins it looked like. Looking lost. A little nervous.

And they were both looking straight at Solveig.

Perfect minions to take under my wing!

The hazel-haired girl spoke first.

“Guten—sorry, good day to you! We’re… heh, we’re a little lost. As you can clearly see…”

The girl looked nastily at what Solveig presumed was her brother.

The boy was rightly offended. “What did I do?!”

“A-Anyway, our eye caught you yesterday. You were really something else! Bobbing and weaving, making the Illustrian guards look like fools... We were just wondering whether… ehm…”

The boy facepalmed. “Rita, please…”

‘Rita’ looked mortified. “Rolli, mein Gott, at least let me finish!”

“You’d only embarrass us further…” he scoffed.

“No, no—it's all good! Seriously.” Solveig waved her hands. “Besides, can’t say no to free praise, right?”

The three of them chuckled.

“Alright, alright. I’ll get to it,” Rita said, more confident this time around. “You see, everyone is in their own little cliques… and we figured since this part in the class is empty…”

“What Rita meant to say is: may we sit with you, please?”

“Sure!”

Miriam perked up from her desk, all the way back from where Cain was sitting.

“Hey, aren’t you two from the Quadrant?”

Solveig immediately tensed.

Rolli seemed sheepish about it. “Nein, nein—common misconception, really! We’re a sister nation of the Quadrant—Hochland! You know how hard we fought for our independence.”

Miriam was not pleased. “Yeah, you’re a vassal state—big difference. How did you—”

Solveig waved her hands meekly. "I’m sure they’re just as confused as the rest of us! No need for semantics, Miriam…”

“Can’t be semantics after what my farm saw what the Quadrant does to the native tribespeople who don’t cooperate.” Miriam groaned. “Just because they’re from Hochland doesn’t mean they aren’t complicit.”

"Ahh... the reason we came all the way to Hrafen in the first place was to get some perspective on things!" she said, spreading her hands like she was presenting a gift. "For that, we would be endlessly grateful if you taught us more."

Miriam growled low in her throat. "Alright, Solveig. Fine. I can’t believe I’m willing to entertain you people."

"Danke schön!" Rita beamed, clasping her hands together. "Really, thank you!"

"Miriam, it's hard, I know," Solveig pressed on, "but forgiveness is the way to a truly harmonious society!"

Miriam scratched at her scalp in a rapid motion then let her forehead drop against the desk with a hollow thunk.

Probably enlightened her again, Solveig thought, nodding to herself. Wow. I should really consider a career as a guru!

The twins slid into the seats to her right without a word.

Alright!

That made five.

Five was an awkward number though, Solveig decided. Five was a group of friends. Six was a gang. Now a gang was the sort of thing people actually remembered.

Time to find one more piece for the puzzle.

She found her candidate embarrassingly fast.

"You!" Solveig said, jabbing a finger across the room.

"Huh—" was as far as the lone demihuman girl got before she was, for all practical purposes, kidnapped. Not that she put up much of a fight, mind you. Just the screaming. "WAAGHH!"

It was over in about four seconds and one overturned desk, and it ended with the girl landing squarely in Solveig's lap, wide-eyed, ears flattened, looking like she genuinely could not explain to anyone, least of all herself, how she'd gotten there.

Solveig smiled down at her like she'd just won something at a carnival. "I'm adopting you. You're mine now."

"B-b-but..." The doggirl she'd chosen was already folding in on herself, all resistance visibly leaking out through the seams. "Alright then... sure..."

"You've got a bad case of the stutters, y'know. It's almost cute. Like a puppy." Solveig tilted her head, then, entirely without deciding to, reached out and petted the girl's head. Her ears twitched. "You'd bark if I told you to, wouldn't you?"

"...W-Woof?"

"Good girl!"

The doggirl's tongue lolled straight out of her mouth, tail going like a metronome set to allegro, hands curled in front of her chest, palms down. "W-Woof woof!"

Rolli watched the entire exchange with the rapt, scholarly attention of a man taking field notes. "Ah. Is this how Illustrians make friends?"

Rita hummed, genuinely turning it over. "Ja, seems rather to the point. Well, who are we to say? We could learn something from this too. Settling matters like this… it makes things more direct, no?"

"...How does Solveig do it? She's a damn magnet." Miriam ideally mused to herself.

"NO!" Cain howled. "This is not how Illustrians make friends, either of you! You are both insane, and now so is she!"

"I-I don't mind, actually," the doggirl chimed in before Solveig could answer, scooting closer on her knees. "In fact, I think you'd make an incredible villain. And I would be honored to be your minion. Anyone would!"

Solveig visibly short-circuited. "W-Wuh?"

The doggirl beamed. "I mean it! Walking up onto that stage like you did took real nerve. You put D'Igoll in his place in front of the school."

"Aw, shucks... wait, nyo, I'm not a villain!"

"You could be, though. Like, a really good one."

"I... I suppose that's..." The protest wobbled, then folded entirely, same as the girl's had thirty seconds earlier. "Hey, if it gets me followers..."

Cain stared at her. "Are you seriously that easy to talk into things?"

That was when, out of the corner of her eye, Solveig caught one of Isolde's lackeys stomping up, looking absolutely furious.

"Hey!" the girl shouted. "You can't just take Bobby like that."

...

Solveig's expression was blank. "Eh?"

Cain tried. "Bobby...?"

The whole group turned, with dawning concern, toward the apparent Bobby.

Bobby appeared to consider the question and offered exactly one answer.

"Mlem."

WHHHHHAAAAAAT???!!??!?!

The single girliest creature to ever girl her way through a girl-shaped hole in the universe?!

Her?!