Posts from Sakuramoria Auto-translated

- The appeal to the President must be submitted in writing, - I mumble nonsense and dodge.

Futaba dodges the king's embrace. "And why didn't I think of that!" He slaps his forehead. "Letters! That's it! I'll write to you every day now!" He makes another attempt to catch Futaba.

Returning to her room, Leila cast a weary glance at the portrait of her father. By sending his daughter to study far away from danger, in a safe place where she could discover new talents, Lionel had sent her straight into the lion's den. And then, she herself, unwilling to run from danger for the rest of her life, returned to that very den. Throughout her life, she believed that Lionel's work would, sooner or later, lead him to an early grave. That her father, by the nature of his duty, would part with life and leave her alone. But in the current circumstances, another scenario was possible, one in which she had every chance of outliving him. For this reason, it was painful for the girl to look at the picture with such warm memories.
It was also painful for another reason – she could no longer continue to live as before. She never would be able to. Survival was now the top priority, and, contrary to Futaba's naive attempts to save everyone, it was perfectly clear that, even without the chaos orchestrated by Fortis, blood would soon be shed. The blood of their peers. And it would be shed not by the servants of His Highness, at least not directly. The blood of some students would be spilled by others. NAILS had gathered a diverse group of individuals, many of whom held diametrically opposed views. This fact alone hindered the achievement of unity. This was compounded by the ranking system, where more successful students had a whole range of privileges. But all of this was merely fertile ground. Ever since Alidum's enrollment, they had been actively pitted against each other, incited to conflict. Then they held elections with voting, encouraging particularly bold and ambitious students to seek leadership positions, and demonstrably gave the position to one of them in the most unfair way. They even staged a coronation ceremony to add fuel to the fire. The goal of all this was one: to divide the students of NAILS into many camps and to deliberately cause many of them to feel animosity towards the new "queen." And for every person who openly expressed animosity, there were two more resourceful ones who hid their antagonism. If Leila's assumptions were correct, after some time, particularly ambitious students would have the opportunity to create their own Factions, and Futaba's authority would no longer be so unquestionable. However, this time, the NAILS staff was unlikely to stand up for her – in the new conflict, the strongest of the Factions would win. And therefore, the new "queen," however unpleasant it might be, would have to prepare for bloodshed. She would have to surround herself with loyal, talented, and, most importantly, competent people. Not clowns like Fortis and Vailis, who shout about not wanting to be anyone's pawns, but then, as a flock, go to certain death. They don't want to be cannon fodder, but they are incapable of being anything more. If she wants to survive, she should suppress potential opponents in the bud. However unpleasant this position may be to Futaba, she has no choice. No one does. Either you eat, or you are eaten. Leila quite admitted that for her own survival, she would have to do terrible things. And it would be naive to rely on "comrades" here – half of them had already discredited themselves. That's why it was so painful to look at the portrait of her father – she didn't want him to see what NAILS might turn her into. All that remained was to hope that the image of Lionel looking at her would help her preserve at least a part of her former self.

Unable to come up with a solution to this situation, the "president" helplessly lowers his arms and tries to mentally transport himself to a safe and peaceful place.

— Gotcha! — The King hugs Futaba tightly and rubs his beard and mustache against her face. — Mofu-mofu, wufa-wufa, ah... I missed you so much, my queen...
After that, he sits down with her in the presidential chair.
— Forgive me, you fool, I thought you would enjoy today's ceremony, but it seems that's not the case...

Basically, I'm betting on Alidum's mom.

On Futaba???

- The sadist-ceremonial master, who shot a student with a pistol, was completely unnecessary, she commented, discreetly wiping away senile saliva. - It took a lot of effort for me not to join those who attacked him.

— Truly, such royal self-control and patience – exactly what one would expect from my chosen one! — Holding her in his strong embrace, the king gently bites Futabu behind the ear. — But understand, Duncan is used to chopping heads on the battlefield and commanding soldiers, and therefore he turned out to be completely unsuitable for this role! I am to blame! I am to blame for appointing him! Do you want me to fire him? Or tell me how I can atone for my mistake.

— Enough with this circus. — The new teacher, whom many had already forgotten, reminded herself of her presence by appearing between Fortis and Duncan. — Sir Duncan, I don’t think His Majesty would approve of what is happening now. Fortis Vir, go where you belong; no one will stop you. Vale Foxtail, Barbara Bellring — immediately return to the others; I won’t repeat myself, and the rules of fair combat will be damned! The rest of you — to your rooms. Your Majesty, — she turns to Futabe, — be reasonable and follow me.

-- Hrk-ha. -- Fortis patted his side, where a bloody stain was already spreading, as if he had been bitten by an annoying mosquito rather than slashed with a sword. -- I should have said that right away.
Without wasting any more words, the young man leaves the hall, trying his best to walk steadily and not grimace in pain. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge the appearance of another crazy old man — after all, it wasn’t even his king, and there’s no point in waving your fists after a fight. He couldn’t say that Fortis had fully achieved his goal, but he was now content with a draw.
Initially, Fortis was heading for the exit — at least out of the hall, ideally out of the academy, and eventually out of the country, but now he only had to return to his room to lick his wounds. He limped to room 203 and collapsed onto the bed like a dead weight.
“I wonder,” he thought. — “Is this the bed of the prematurely deceased, or the one next to it?”
In reality, he was really interested in what was actually going on in this academy, but for now, his mind was occupied only with the thought of getting to the infirmary as soon as the others finished their clowning around in the hall, and with all sorts of insignificant nonsense. If it were up to Fortis, he would try not to interact with the teaching staff at all, and it would be better to ask one of his own — surely there are at least a couple of Mana adepts among them, but when you’ve been cut with a claymore, you don’t have a choice. Fortis felt his side again — the general may be a clumsy old geezer, but he hit hard.
“He probably broke my ribs. And now I’ll never be able to get the stain out of my shirt... ugh!”

- He doesn't belong here. Let him spend his remaining days in a nursing home or live off his family; he has one. He never fulfilled his "security" duties. Someone who can inspire trust and respect in children should work with them.

– It’s decided, Futabotchka, I will be the new director!

A knock is heard at the door of Fortis's room.
— It's Duke... — a voice comes from the corridor. — Fortis, are you in there? Listen... Sorry if I'm intruding, but do you happen to need any help?..

Added 6 minutes later

- He doesn't belong here. Let him spend his remaining days in a nursing home, or live off his family, he has one. He never fulfilled his "security" duties. Someone who can inspire trust and respect in children should work with them.

— It will be done! I'll try to find a worthy teacher, I promise! — The King touches Futaba's face with his palm and turns her towards him, then kisses her. — I'll make this academy the way you want it! Ask for anything you want!

- How about shutting down the student experimentation program?

— Well... — The King seemed a little disappointed by the suggestion. — We could just give up, of course... But why let good things go to waste... Let me show you where and how everything is done, and then you can decide. — He stands up and gently takes Futaba's hand. — Shall we go?

mrachno kivayu