Just then, Betty looked at Pandora’s resolute expression, then at herself and Aurora. Her eyes darted around.
Suddenly, as if remembering something, she tentatively, quietly proposed:
“Oh! Before... My La—Pandora, before we part, why don’t we... all go have a bath together!”
As she spoke, Betty pulled out her Palmfiend. She explained the idea came from seeing a listing for a “Public Bathhouse.” It was described as a popular social activity among apprentices for relaxing.
However, Betty’s eyes held a deep-seated unease and anxiety—would their lady consider them... “friends”?
“Sure.”
Pandora smiled, her reply clean and decisive.
“Let’s go together. Elsa too.”
Receiving this answer, Betty instantly let out a huge sigh of relief, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Aurora revealed a genuine smile again.
Elsa, who had been standing quietly by, silently watching them, gave a slight bow. Her perfect eyes remained calm and unreadable, but the corner of her lips curled into a barely perceptible, faint arc.
“Yes. As you wish, My Lady.”
………………
The bathhouse was in the northeast corner of the teaching area. To get there, you had to pass through a makeshift marketplace made from abandoned workshops. It was part of the Academy’s “Living and Entertainment District.”
Teaching Assistant Poppy had only given the freshmen a quick glance at it. No detailed introduction. That made sense.
Those who really needed it would find the information themselves. Those without the need, or without the means, didn’t need the burden of knowing too much too soon.
In any case, Pandora’s group easily found the “Mist Raven Bathhouse,” which had a high rating on the Palmfiend.
However, when they actually stepped inside, the three following behind Pandora were a bit dumbfounded.
This was a bathhouse whose architectural style was distinctly modern—the kind Pandora knew from her past life.
A spacious, bright lobby, floors of dark polished tile that reflected your image, the air filled with a fresh, faintly herbal incense.
This environment was all too familiar to Pandora.
But for Aurora, Betty, and Elsa—standard “medieval people” who had never seen such a thing, not even in the castle of the Viscounty of Douglas—everything here was strange and new.
So Pandora naturally took the lead. She paid for four “bath fees” via her Palmfiend, then led the dazed trio through the automatic door into the women’s changing room.
Everything in the changing room widened their eyes even further.
………………
Skipping over the series of flustered, red-cheeked mishaps in the changing room and wash area…
The medieval trio, after much fussing, finally—under Pandora’s patient guidance and Elsa’s unexpectedly “professional” demonstration—managed, somewhat clumsily, to figure out the procedure. Wash first, then soak.
After thoroughly cleaning themselves with sweet-smelling shower gel they had never used before, Aurora and Betty still shyly covered themselves as best they could with the small white towels. Then, faces flushed, they entered the wide, steam-shrouded bathing pool.
It was Elsa’s first time experiencing this personally as well. She was an alchemical construct, but the soul within was genuine, and from a medieval world. She couldn’t avoid a little awkwardness.
But since she often helped attend to Pandora’s bathing and dressing, she was familiar with the process. Compared to the other two, her movements were less panicked, more composed.
In short, after another short round of confusion, the three finally followed the calm Pandora and carefully lowered themselves into the warm, comforting water.
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“Ah~!”
“Mmm…”
“This… this feels so good…”
The moment they entered the pool, Aurora, Betty, and even the usually calm Elsa couldn’t help but let out sighs of contentment.
It was too comfortable.
The perfectly warm water seemed to carry a certain magic, gently washing away the exhaustion and weariness that had built up in their bodies for far too long.
Especially for Aurora and Betty.
From the moment the apocalypse hit the “Orchard,” through all the various events along the way—the zombie roars, the deaths of loved ones, the despair of fleeing, the horror of witnessing an execution, and that crushing “three-month deadline” now weighing on their hearts…
All of it was like a bunch of strings, pulled tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.
Pandora, as a transmigrator with two lives’ worth of experience, had way tougher mental fortitude than her peers. She was also already a second-rank Wizard. Among the freshmen, she held formidable power. That was enough to keep her mostly calm when facing unknown risks.
As for Elsa—being an alchemical construct, obeying Pandora was the core purpose of her existence. That pure, unwavering drive suppressed most other negative thoughts that might pop up.
But the other two… they were genuine, inexperienced kids. The past few days had trampled all over their fragile worldviews. They thought things might get better after boarding the train. Instead, it was zombies again, desperate survival, and then watching their Warden get decapitated by a bounty hunter.
In such a state, the relaxing effect of this bath was incredibly potent for them.
What they needed most right now… was exactly this. A place to forget everything, to empty their minds, and just give themselves over to the warmth.
They leaned lazily against the smooth wall of the pool, savoring the long-lost comfort. Then, they suddenly noticed that Elsa, who had been quietly by Pandora’s side, had, at some point, moved to stand behind her.
She extended her slender, pale hands and began gently massaging Pandora’s shoulders and neck, her touch practiced and precise.
“Elsa, what are you... doing?” Aurora asked softly, her curiosity piqued. Her voice also drew Betty’s attention.
Elsa’s fingers pressed a precise point on Pandora‘s neck—a spot that promised instant relaxation. “This is to relax Milady’s muscles,” she explained plainly. “The fatigue of travel, and prolonged mental tension, cause muscles to remain rigid. Massage helps soothe them, accelerates blood circulation, and alleviates fatigue.”
She spoke with textbook precision, yet her tone carried a gentle, subservient warmth.
Aurora and Betty only half-understood. As they listened, they began to clumsily imitate Elsa, trying to massage their own—or each other‘s—aching shoulders and necks. Pressing the wrong spot didn’t matter much. They were all girls; a bit of clumsy, playful roughhousing was part of the deal.
Before long, the warm water, like a gentle hand, seemed to smooth away all the fatigue—deep or shallow—left by their journey.
Steam curled around the girls‘ smooth shoulders. Aurora and Betty fumbled with each other’s knots. Elsa remained focused entirely on Pandora. And Pandora, like a lazy cat, half-closed her eyes, savoring the rare comfort.
“Oh, right,” Betty’s voice, tinged with curiosity, finally broke the serene silence. “Pandora... which two electives are you planning to choose?”
Among the important tasks Teaching Assistant Poppy had mentioned was selecting “Electives.”
All freshmen had the same core curriculum: basic theory, combat, weapons knowledge, and more. But each person could choose two additional courses based on their interests.
There were no enrollment limits, but the window was tight—just one day. So it was best to decide now.
Pandora sank deeper into the warm water, eyes still closed. She answered without hesitation: “Alchemy.”
That was her first choice, and it required no thought. Her system destined her path to be entwined with that mystical discipline.
“As for the second...” She paused, as if weighing her words, then finally uttered a term unfamiliar to her companions. “...Gun Arts.”
“Gun... Arts?” Aurora and Betty were puzzled. They didn’t even know what a “gun” was.
Pandora’s reasoning was simple. She’d scoured the long list of electives on her Palmfiend. There were no courses directly related to “Wizardry.” If there had been, she would have taken it without a second thought. Without that, the other options—“Sword Mastery,” “Malignant Spirit Studies,” “Interpretation of Ancient History”—were all roughly equivalent to her. Just knowledge. She could always self-study anything vital.
So, a course involving a special type of “apparatus” became her pick.
Besides, she genuinely wanted to see. What level had this world’s so-called “firearms” developed to? Could their aesthetics of violence spark some fascinating reaction with her own abilities?
“What about you two?” Pandora asked in return.
“I... I chose ‘Delicious Anatomy’ and ’Delicious Culinary Arts,’” Betty said softly, a bit sheepishly. The choice fit her identity as a kitchen maid perfectly. It seemed she had no intention of abandoning the path she loved.
Pandora approved. Processing supernatural creatures into power-infused ‘food’—this was a path with immense potential, literally eating one’s way to power.
Aurora said, “I chose ‘Swordsmanship’ and ’Monster Mount Riding.’ I want to... build on my knightly training and improve.”
A sensible, safe choice. Sticking to your expertise is never wrong.
“As for me,” Elsa, who had been silent, spoke calmly, “I chose ‘Alchemy’ and ’Service.’”
“Alchemy?” Pandora wasn’t surprised. Elsa was doing it to assist her—that much was obvious. But... “Service?”
Betty was curious. “That’s a course too? Does... the Academy train maids?”
“Yes, and no,” Elsa’s reply remained impassive, but the content made the others listen intently. “’Service’ teaches the techniques of serving ’Superior Beings.’ How to, appropriately, discern their preferences and satisfy them with precision. Thereby, obtaining their... favor. That is the core.”
Pandora completed the thought in her mind. Rather than training maids, it was more accurate to say it was training high-level devotees. Or, to use a term from her past life that fit better: double agents.
This course was about deconstructing the minds of those “Superior Beings,” understanding their methods of control, and even teaching apprentices how to use those methods in reverse. So what it cultivated wasn’s blindly loyal servants, but sharp, self-aware operatives capable of betrayal at a moment’s notice.

