Chapter 5: A Pleasant Lunchtime (4)
It took some time, but I finally arrived at the secluded grove where the World Tree stood.
Despite its backstory as a sapling gifted to the academy as a symbol of friendship with the elves, the tree had been abandoned in this remote corner. Odd, but it worked in my favor.
Imagine the outrage if word got out that a commoner had climbed the World Tree and plucked its fruit.
Even someone like Exipri would shun me after that.
A prince might get away with such an incident being called a “mishap,” but for a commoner like me, it’d be a one-way ticket to ruin.
The grove was deserted, likely due to its isolated location and the fact that lunchtime was nearly over.
That was perfect for me. I’d initially come here just to see how crowded it might get on a typical day, but the absence of people was an unexpected boon.
Technically, I didn’t have to pluck the fruit right now. Still, there was a sense of relief that came with securing it early. I decided to act.
“Strength.”
As mana coursed through my body, I felt a strange but invigorating sensation of power. A small perk from being a reincarnator: I could use simple magic.
That said, my abilities were limited to basic enhancements, like strengthening my body or producing small flames.
But compared to nobles who spent fortunes learning even minor spells, this was a definite advantage—though it didn’t change the fact that a commoner like me would still be at their mercy if they decided I was bothersome.
That’s why I was so determined to build relationships with the heroines.
Without connections, I’d have no hope of altering the ending—or even keeping myself alive.
Regardless of how much talent this body might possess, there was no way I could single-handedly defeat the final boss, someone capable of overturning the world with a mere gesture.
That existence.
Onbyeolbi.
The true power behind the Baek Empire, and likely Baek Hoyeon’s mother.
She was an insurmountable force—something far beyond human capacity.
Even with divine blessings, the support of numerous heroines, and countless strokes of fortune, the protagonist in the original novel had still faced a bad ending against her.
She had almost no weaknesses, and even when the protagonist discovered one near the very end, it was too late to exploit it.
Lost in thought about the novel’s story, I climbed higher into the tree, soon reaching its upper branches. Now came the hard part: finding the fruit.
Even though the World Tree was described as a “sapling,” its sheer size was staggering.
The fruit was said to be about the size of a person’s fist—large for a fruit, but tiny amidst the vast expanse of the tree’s branches.
I felt daunted just imagining how long this would take, but since I’d already climbed this far, there was no turning back.
After what felt like the hundredth near-miss where I almost fell, luck finally smiled upon me. I found the fruit.
It was about the size of a golf ball, but bright green with a small stem at the top.
I had no idea how this fruit would ultimately be used, but I was certain it would be the first step toward changing the ending.
After all, the author had once revealed in a post-completion Q&A that the only way to defeat Onbyeolbi was to win over every single heroine.
Not just the core group of heroines from the original story, but also less popular ones like Camilla, the forgotten heroines, and even those who defected or betrayed the protagonist. Everyone.
The author hadn’t clarified whether this would grant the protagonist power to face Onbyeolbi or unlock another solution, but it was the official word, so it had to be true.
I was preparing to climb back down when I noticed someone approaching the grove. Their light, sprightly steps suggested they were in a good mood.
I hesitated, debating whether to climb down or wait it out. In the end, I decided to suppress my presence and remain still. I doubted I could descend unnoticed, especially with the fruit in hand.
As the person came closer, I finally caught sight of them, and my mouth fell open.
There was no mistaking the white hair streaked with tiger-like black patterns—it was Baek Hoyeon.
Yet something about her was different.
The oppressive, almost murderous aura she’d exuded while confronting Anastasia was gone.
Her expression was far more relaxed and natural, and, most strikingly, she was smiling.
It was just a small upward curve of her lips, but it transformed her.
She looked nothing like the cold, unapproachable girl who had exuded hostility at every turn.
When she frowned, I hadn’t really noticed, but now I could see how beautiful she truly was.
So much so that I wondered if she surpassed even Anastasia and the other heroines in terms of pure looks.
But none of that mattered. I didn’t know everything about her yet, but one thing was clear: she wasn’t someone who had any goodwill toward this academy.
From her hostile introduction to disrupting Anastasia’s event, she’d gone from being a dangerous irregular with potential to someone I needed to avoid—or, ideally, eliminate from my calculations entirely.
Yet here she was, casually glancing around before sitting on a bench.
She pulled something out of a paper bag and began to eat.
Her tail swayed lightly, and her ears twitched—a clear sign she was in a good mood.
I squinted to see what it was.
Cream bread.
Seeing a crown princess of all people happily munching on cream bread left me with mixed feelings I couldn’t quite articulate.
She looked so content, her expression radiating joy as she ate, that I suddenly realized I hadn’t eaten anything since morning.
My stomach growled, betraying my hunger. The sound felt painfully loud, but surely it wouldn’t carry from this height… right?
There was no way someone with heightened senses, even as a beastkin, could hear a stomach growl from the equivalent of the sixth floor of an apartment building.
At least, that’s what I thought. Until she gestured for me to come down.
…She heard that?
Before I could dwell on my surprise, she gestured toward me again—this time more insistently, leaving no doubt that she wanted me to come down. Reluctantly, I began descending the tree.
I took extra care to keep the fruit hidden as I climbed down, and to my relief, she didn’t ask any questions about what I might be holding.
Instead, what happened next left me utterly dumbfounded.
She reached into her paper bag, pulled out a cream bread, and wordlessly held it out to me.
Her gesture, as if expecting me to take it, was baffling. Why would she, of all people, offer me bread?
Considering how she’d glared daggers at Anastasia—a central noble, no less—her kindness toward a commoner like me made no sense.
Before I could think further, she lightly tossed the bread in my direction.
Panicking, I barely managed to catch it with one hand, nearly revealing the fruit I was hiding in the other. My heart raced at the close call.
“Your stomach was growling so loudly I could hear it from down here,” she said. “Eat. I take no pleasure in eating in front of the hungry.”
She wore a soft, benevolent expression, one I hadn’t expected from her.
I couldn’t wrap my head around her motives, but there was no reason to reject the bread she’d given me. For now, I accepted it.
“…Ah, yes. Thank you.”
She nodded slightly at my thanks, then stared at me intently for a moment before abruptly asking, “Come to think of it, I don’t know your name. Would you share it with me in exchange for the bread?”
My name.
While I’d used my original name upon enrolling at the academy, I hesitated. Was it safe to tell her?
I had a strong feeling that once I mentioned it, she’d ask if I was from the Eastern Continent. Her expression, filled with amused curiosity, made it seem harmless enough.
Why not? I can always make something up if needed.
“…Han Dogeon,” I replied.
“Han Dogeon,” she repeated, rolling the name over her tongue. “Are you from the Eastern Continent, by chance?”
As expected.
While her question brought me a small sense of satisfaction, it also made me wonder if my improvised backstory would hold up.
But since I’d already given her my name, there was no turning back now.
“No, I’m not from the Eastern Continent. But both of my parents were.”
It wasn’t unusual for a child of Eastern descent to have an Eastern-style name.
She seemed about to ask something else when the bell rang, signaling the end of lunchtime.
“Is it time already?” she murmured. “Very well, you may leave. Oh, and make sure to eat the bread.”
Her tone was slightly wistful, but she left as she spoke, walking away with her usual confident stride.
It was oddly endearing, how she delivered a parting line like that but ended up leaving first herself.
Watching her retreating figure, I unwrapped the bread and took a big bite.
It wouldn’t do much to fill my empty stomach, but it was better than nothing. After swallowing, I decided to head somewhere other than the gymnasium.
First, I needed to hide the fruit. Second, I wanted to help a certain heroine who would soon be late for class.
With the thought of the cream bread’s stable, comforting flavor lingering in my mind, I quickened my pace, ready to take my next steps toward twisting the ending.