Chapter 2: The Circumstances of a Certain Reincarnated Person.

I move cautiously through the bright forest, where sunlight filters through the trees, ensuring they don’t grow too dense.
I step deeper into the woods, keeping myself hidden.
Beyond a tunnel of fresh green foliage, I find a small, open clearing, likely where trees were recently felled.

The undergrowth is thick but not overgrown, so it won’t hinder my walking—or what I’m about to do.
This spot is perfect for secretly breaking a minor rule or two.

– No choice, really. For the sake of my future, without any reincarnation cheats…

A sigh escapes me naturally.
How did it come to this, I wonder…

Right now, I’m Moronidas Aray, a student at the Honmani Magic Academy in the Duchy of Honmani, Arkan Kingdom… and a so-called reincarnator with memories of a past life.

In that past life, I was Sukumi Tanishi, born in a country called Japan on a planet called Earth.
I spent three years of high school chasing the dream of Koshien as a baseball player.
On the day of the regional tournament finals in my third year, I died in a traffic accident.
It’s a common story, I suppose.
Let me be clear: my team didn’t lose because I, the ace, was absent.
The accident happened after the game.
Though, to be honest, we lost because I couldn’t hold back the opposing team’s batting lineup.
So, you could say we lost because I played.

I was one step away from my dream, unable to hold back the tears.
I ran, letting my emotions take over.
Running while crying might be a common trope in manga or anime, but I’d advise against it in real life.
You can’t see where you’re going—it’s dangerous.
But back then, I didn’t care and kept running.
I didn’t even notice the contradiction of running toward a red sunset when it was still broad daylight.
Looking back, that red light I thought was the sunset was probably just a traffic signal.
A blaring horn.
I turned to see a black wall closing in—likely a large truck.
Then, an impact so intense everything went white…
That’s the last memory I have as Sukumi Tanishi.

I realized these were past-life memories around age five.
Until then, they were vague, like dreams or memories I couldn’t quite place.
Once I understood they were memories, I started to see myself as Sukumi Tanishi.
I’m glad I didn’t awaken to these memories as a baby.
Suckling at my mother’s breast would’ve been… problematic in many ways.

This world has an odd mix of medieval and modern elements, with intelligent non-human races and a mysterious power called magic.
It’s clearly not the world Sukumi Tanishi lived in, but I loved isekai and reincarnation stories—embarrassingly so.
With memories of growing up here and, most importantly, a family, I had no trouble accepting my past life as the past and my current life as the present.
If I had one regret, it’s that I didn’t get a cheat ability from a voluptuous goddess.
And I quickly gave up on the idea of using modern knowledge as a cheat.
There are probably other reincarnators in this world already—or there were.
At least a few, I’d wager.

Miso, soy sauce, katsuobushi, mayonnaise, ice cream, ramen, kotatsu, cannons, bombs… even miko outfits and katanas already exist here.
Burly dwarf men fill up on donburi, and my mother’s specialties are nikujaga and katsu curry.
Can you imagine my despair when I realized the toilet I’d been using was actually a ‘magic warm-water bidet’?
There’s no room for a high school baseball player’s knowledge to act as a modern-knowledge cheat in this world.
I don’t have the specialized expertise typical of light novel protagonists.
If I had to pick something, it’d be baseball knowledge, but that’s obviously useless.
Starting a pro baseball league in another world to rise to the top? Yeah, that’s a stretch.

So, I decided to give up on cheats entirely and live normally.
Hard work is the way to go, right?
But surviving isn’t that simple.
This is a fantasy world with magic, different races, and ferocious magical beasts roaming about.
My father is a human—or rather, a ‘person,’ equivalent to Homo sapiens in my old world.
My mother is a Rolling, a diminutive forest-dwelling race.
I was born and raised in the Dwarf Kingdom, a proper dwarf kid—or ‘dwa-kid,’ as they say.

Why is my life so complicated?
It’s because my father works as something like a diplomat.
In Japanese terms, he’s a secretary at the Arkan Kingdom’s embassy in the Dwarf Kingdom.
The issue is which country I belong to and which society I’ll live in.

Even as a dwa-kid, I have no dwarf blood.
The Rolling race cut off contact with humans for over two thousand years, only recently starting trade through the Dwarf Kingdom.
But humans still aren’t allowed in Rolling territory.
So, I have no place in the Dwarf Kingdom where I was raised or in my mother’s Rolling homeland.
My only option is to live in the Arkan Kingdom, my father’s homeland, a feudal society ruled by nobles.

So, last spring, at age ten, I left my hometown alone and enrolled in the Honmani Magic Academy.
Known simply as the Magic Academy, this school only admits those with exceptional magical talent—an elite institution.
It’s a boarding school where all students are children of nobles or gentry.
It’s not that commoners are explicitly barred, but between magical aptitude and tuition costs, it’s effectively a school for the nobility.

My father, the eldest son of a viscount family, lacked the magical talent to enroll here.
My admission is likely thanks to my mother’s blood.
The Rolling race has superior magical power compared to humans, and my mother, despite looking like a loli elementary schooler, is apparently a princess back in her homeland.
The twenty-fourth princess, one of many, but still from a family renowned for its magical prowess.
Thanks to that bloodline, I’m among the top in my year for magical capacity, rivaling the valedictorian and salutatorian.

…Well, it’s all about how you frame it.
To put it another way, I only match them in magical capacity.

After all, a student’s duty is to study.
In a school, academic performance naturally determines your rank.
I’m not bragging, but my general education grades are practically rock-bottom.
My magic-related grades are decent, but the material is basic, so it’s hard to stand out.
Not enough to make up for my abysmal general education scores.
In the end, I’m just a dropout, a self-walking magic tank with nothing but magical capacity.

It couldn’t be helped.
My high school baseball knowledge only helped in ‘Arithmetic,’ where basic double-digit calculations earned full marks.
As a dwa-kid, I severely lack background knowledge about the Arkan Kingdom.
‘Geography,’ ‘History,’ ‘Sociology’ (covering social systems), ‘Literature’ (full of classical and noble phrasing), and ‘Etiquette’ are complete disasters.
‘Biology’ is manageable, but ‘Physics and Chemistry’—or rather, ‘Material Science’—is beyond me.
Let me be clear: it’s not because I’m dumb that I struggle with physics and chemistry despite my modern knowledge.
This world’s schools teach that everything is made of the four elements: earth, water, fire, and wind.
No matter how much I know about atomic nuclei or chemical elements, it won’t help me score points.
Answering, “Water is a compound of one hydrogen atom and two oxygen atoms,” would definitely get me docked points.
Besides, there’s no guarantee modern knowledge applies here, and I have no desire to prove it.
I’d rather not end up like… who was it, that guy tried for heresy over heliocentrism?
If I want to stay alive, it’s better to go along with what’s accepted here.

Also, as expected, I’m dead last in ‘Physical Education’ and ‘Martial Arts.’
As a half-Rolling, I excel in magic but lag in physique compared to humans.
Compared to human kids my age, it’s like the difference between a first-grader and a sixth-grader.
Some mean kids even call me a ‘goblin.’
Small stature, slender limbs, slightly upturned large eyes, and pointed (though not long) ears—these Rolling traits make me look ‘cute’ to some, but apparently, I resemble a goblin from the monster encyclopedia.

At the start of this month, a teacher handed me a single sheet of paper.
It was a report card listing my grades, rank, and class assignment for the new term.
The Magic Academy has a six-year curriculum: three years of general education and three years of specialized training.
During the general education years, each grade is split into three classes: A for top students, B for average ones, and C for dropouts.
Starting next week, I’ve been assigned to Class C.

This is very bad.
I need a noble to back me.
My father holds a baronet title, but it’s non-hereditary and comes with no land.
His relationship with his viscount family is strained, and he married a non-human in the Dwarf Kingdom partly to escape them.
He’s also married to a dwarf chieftain’s daughter and plans to stay in the Dwarf Kingdom as a kept man if he loses his embassy job.
In short, I can’t rely on him, so I need to find a noble to pledge myself to.

To secure a future, I need to earn a title through achievements or find a noble who’ll offer good terms.
Otherwise, I’ll just be a magic tank, exploited for my magical capacity.
Having high magic makes it hard to live freely—my father’s family might even claim ‘ownership’ of me if I’m unattached.
I understand that my past and present lives are separate, but people don’t change easily.
I want proper days off and a bidet toilet at home and work.
I don’t want to be a stud for my magic or live with a wife who treats me like a servant.
Even in another world, I refuse to work for a black company with only a pit toilet!

I had to do something.
Studying harder is a long-term plan, and drastic improvement is tough.
Physical ability is a racial issue, so I’ve given up on that.
To climb the ranks, I need to stand out in magic.
The quickest way to boost my reputation with my magical capacity…
I decided to form a contract with a spirit.

Some students have contracts with familiars—usually wild animals, though some use juvenile magical beasts.
Only the valedictorian and salutatorian in my year have spirit familiars.
Spirits may not always be useful in combat like magical beasts, but they’re a status symbol in noble society.
Becoming the third student with a spirit familiar should raise my standing.
Plus, spirits don’t need food, so no feeding costs—a nice bonus.

That’s why I’m sneaking into the forest on the academy grounds.
I confirm I’m alone and pull a summoning magic circle from my backpack—er, my randoseru.
I bribed a teacher to get this, so I can’t let anyone see it.
While you can buy basic magic circles at the school store, special ones must be self-made per academy rules.
If students could use professionally made circles (especially from teachers), competitions would turn into a money race.

But I don’t have the luxury of playing fair.
For my future, I’ll have to ignore the spirit of fair play.
As I resolve myself and start channeling magic into the circle, a loud voice booms from above.

“Yo~! Ke~! Ru~! No~! De~! Su~!”