Failure Frame: I Became the Strongest and Annihilated Everything With Low-Level Spells Vol. 1

by Kaoru Shinozaki

  Table of Contents

  Color Gallery

  Title Page

  Copyrights and Credits

  Table of Contents Page

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: The Goddess and the Summoning

  Chapter 2: The Ruins of Disposal

  Chapter 3: The Road to Annihilation

  Chapter 4: Soul Eater

  Chapter 5: Avenger(s)

  Chapter 6: A Chance Meeting

  Afterword

  Newsletter

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  Prologue

  WE WERE ON A SCHOOL TRIP when it happened.

  All of Okito Academy’s class 2-C was packed on a bus that wound its way through the mountains. Some were asleep, others played with their smartphones, some stared at themselves in little makeup mirrors or just sat there looking carsick. But the ones who stood out most were all together at the back of the bus.

  “The Elites,” you could call them.

  “Hey Takuto, introduce me to one of your girls some time, yeah?”

  “You play too loose with them, Shougo. Don’t lie so often, and I’ll think about it.”

  That was Kirihara Takuto. They say God doesn’t give with both hands, but this guy was handsome, charismatic, and good at everything he tried—top stats across the board. He was the sun our whole class revolved around. One word from him, and even the air would sit up and pay attention.

  “Kirihara-kun, you’re such a good guy!” a few girls squealed in response.

  If Kirihara Takuto was class 2-C’s main character, then Oyamada Shougo was his loyal sidekick. Standing by Kirihara’s side at all times, Oyamada was the delinquent yin to the golden boy’s yang, and his self-proclaimed best friend. He had a rough face and a reputation for making trouble. The only positive things you could say about the guy were that he had a good physique and knew his way around a fight. If you were ranking people on how generally unpleasant they were, he’d be near the top of the list.

  The Kirihara and Oyamada duo ruled over all the popular kids in class.

  “Why don’t you ever, like, go for any of us, Shougo?” one of the girls asked.

  “You’re all too easy!” Oyamada replied.

  “Aw, c’mon,” she sighed.

  “If you’re gonna be flashy, you gotta at least beat the younger Takao sister!”

  “Whoa, no way, are you kidding me?! She’s, like, barely even human! How do you expect a regular girl to compete with that?!”

  “Heh, I guess you don’t have much to work with, huh? She was born with a hundred-mile head start on you there!” Oyamada taunted, clearly enjoying himself. He seemed more amped up than usual—must’ve been because of the school trip.

  The girl he’d been talking about, on the other hand, sat quietly. The Takao sisters, a pair of twins who always stuck together, were famously weird. The older, Takao Hijiri, was a poised, impeccable beauty, while her younger sister, Takao Itsuki, was much flashier and more outgoing. They were another impressive, high-stat pair—Hijiri was the second smartest person in class, and Itsuki came in fourth on our last test, too. They were both athletic, with figures to match, and their beauty blew the rest of the class out of the water.

  As long as you can ignore how weird they are, I thought.

  “This view of the mountains could be a window to expand your imagination in extraordinary directions. Take a good look out there, Itsuki,” said Hijiri.

  “I see it, Aneki,” her sister replied.

  No matter how long I looked out the window, it all just looked normal to me.

  Is there actually anything extraordinary out there? Can the Takao twins really see something I can’t?

  Or maybe just Hijiri…I don’t think I’ve ever heard Itsuki disagree with her.

  “Whoa! I said her name, and she didn’t even blink! Totally ignored! Oh man, she’s so cool!” Oyamada said excitedly.

  “Could you be a little quieter back there, Oyamada-kun?” a clear voice rang out through the bus.

  “Huh?”

  “I’m trying to read.”

  That was Sogou Ayaka, our class leader. Black hair with a headband, a pale complexion, pristine black tights—she was so good-looking that rumors had even spread about her at other schools, as had a few long shot photos passed around on instant messenger.

  Rumor had it she was from a super rich family—an expensive car stopped at the gates every day to pick her up after school. She was trained in martial arts, and her academic skills put her at the top of the class. She wasn’t in a club, though she showed her athleticism in gym class—she’d even sub in sometimes at sports club tournaments when they needed her.

  If Kirihara Takuto was the male protagonist of this story, Sogou Ayaka was the female lead.

  “Whatcha reading, Sogou?” Oyamada taunted as he snatched the book away from her. “Still reading paper books nowadays—this a manga, or what? Oh, hey, a novel.” Nobody stopped him, of course—there weren’t many people in class 2-C even capable of talking back to him. He tore off the book cover to see what was underneath.

  That idiot always goes too far…

  “Give it back,” Sogou shot at him.

  “‘The most incredible love story you’ll read this year’…?! Ooh, I gotta check this out!”

  “I-I said, give it back!”

  “Are you kidding me? Our number one student reads this kinda junk? Underneath it all, Ayaka-tan, you’re just a sweet little girl who reads romance novels!”

  “S-so what?!”

  “Ugh, so many freaking words! I could never get through this…my eyes…they’re falling off the page…my brain cells are dying…!”

  “So give it back.”

  “Huh, you want it back?” Oyamada teased. “Now, what should I do~? Maybe I’ll give it back if you trade R@IN IDs with me…?”

  Truth was, Oyamada had a huge crush on Sogou, but he only showed it through that old, twisted form of affection where a guy picks on a girl to get her attention.

  “Oyamada-kun, just give it back to me!” said Sogou.

  She clearly didn’t realize what he really wanted—I’d always figured she was a little oblivious to that kind of thing.

  R@IN was an instant messaging app—the most popular in the world. But you could only talk to a person on there if they allowed it, and Oyamada wanted Sogou to open up that door.

  I’d probably look really cool if I rushed to her defense right now…

  But I knew that was just an idle thought. A background character like me jumping to her defense would be about as useful as a strong breeze.

  Nothing. Meaningless. Worthless.

  LOSER used FUTILE GESTURE. It’s not very effective…

  I knew that with a guy like Oyamada, getting involved would probably just make things worse. If someone at the top of the class hierarchy like Sogou can’t face off against him, what’s a guy at the very bottom supposed to do?

  She seems off today, and her face is kinda red…oh, I get it. She’s embarrassed she got caught reading romance novels, huh? Her comebacks are usually more confident than this, but I guess he got to her today…

  She might actually be kinda cute.

  “Oyamada, come on. Just give it back to her.”

  I also feel bad for her.

  “What did you just say to me?”

  “Huh?”

  That voice defending her…that was me.

  What…? What am I doing? Why am I stand
ing up?

  “Mimori…Touka-kun, isn’t it? So, er…what’s your problem, man?” Oyamada asked, surprised. He would be surprised—a background character like me didn’t stand up to him every day. The whole atmosphere of the bus had changed—all eyes were glued to me. Sweat prickled on my forehead.

  “Uh…it just looks like Sogou-san really wants you to stop, so…” I trailed off.

  “You—” Oyamada started.

  “Huh?”

  He was shaking like Jell-O right out of the mold.

  “Oooh, l-look at Mister Cool Guy over here!” he taunted, pointing at me and getting more worked up every moment. “You wanna walk the path of L-O-V-E with Sougo-san? That it? Is that what’s givin’ you the strength to be so unbelievably cool right now, Mimori-senpai?! What is this, ‘Rise of the Background Characters’?!”

  “Mimori-kun…?”

  Sogou turned toward me with a concerned look on her face. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one…but I hoped it was the former.

  Okay, how does Mimori Touka get himself out of this one?

  “Give it back to her, Shougo.” That was a lifeline from Kirihara—not even Oyamada could talk back to him.

  “You’re right, Takuto. We should get to know this cool new Mimori-senpai instead, huh?” Oyamada replied.

  “Leave me out of it. I don’t care about guys like him.”

  “Whoa, that’s cold, man. I guess that’s the real difference between you and me—I can’t match that level of cool.”

  “Do whatever you want about Mimori, just give Sogou her book back already. I don’t like it when you do stuff like this.”

  Some of the other students, mostly the girls, stared longingly at Kirihara and whispered among themselves about how kind he was. Oyamada whapped Sogou on the shoulder with her novel a few times.

  “Sorry ’bout that, Sogou. I got a little carried away. But you’re a nice enough person to forgive me, right?”

  Sogou snatched back her book and glared at him. Oyamada held his hands over his head in surrender.

  “I said I was sorry. Jeez…”

  Sogou quietly put the novel back in her bag. She seemed to have lost her appetite for reading.

  Sogou Ayaka wasn’t just academic and attractive—she also knew ancient martial arts, and she’d even used her skills on Oyamada once before. There was a theory going around that he’d been a little afraid of her ever since. Well, part afraid and part attracted, people said.

  Kirihara put his earbuds in and started listening to music. Oyamada crashed back into his seat.

  “Screw this!”

  He kicked hard against the seat in front of him. Most of the students, myself included, jerked their heads back in surprise—even the tour conductor flinched. Only Kirihara, Sougo, and the Takao sisters looked unfazed.

  “Hey, Yasu~?” Oyamada called out to the timid boy sitting in front of him. He leaned forward and put an arm around Yasu’s shoulder.

  “Wh-what is it, Oyamada-san…?”

  Yasu Tomohiro was your typical high school bullying victim. He’d been marked for slaughter by Oyamada since the beginning—two years ago. Yaso had accidentally spilled Oyamada’s juice, and unluckily for him it had soaked Oyamada’s smartphone and bricked it. Yasu had snapped that it wasn’t his fault, but at the time he didn’t know who he was snapping at. Oyamada had stayed locked on ever since.

  “Y-you really surprised me there…” Yasu mumbled.

  “So Mimori-senpai broke rank and tried to punch above his weight class, and you’re sitting there acting like it’s got nothin’ to do with you! It pisses me off! You got somethin’ to say?! C’mon! Look me in the eyes!”

  “I-I don’t have anything to say…” mumbled Yasu.

  “Why’s 2-C’s trash can talking back to a real man, anyway? Shut your damn mouth!”

  “…”

  “Answer me!”

  “O-okay…”

  Do you want him to shut up, or do you want him to answer you? Oyamada’s such a weirdo…

  “Give it a rest already, Oyamada. This day and age, if you go too far and he ends up killing himself, you’ll be in trouble, got it? You too, Yasu. If you’re going to jump off a bridge, don’t do it on my watch.”

  That was our homeroom teacher, Zakurogi Tamotsu. He taught P.E., and he was nice to the girls, hard on the guys.

  No, wait, small correction there. He’s only nice to the cute girls.

  On the guys’ side, he only took interest in the top of the class hierarchy, using those guys as pawns to keep the rest of us in line. As long as we were all under control, he could ignore most of us. The way we were treated varied wildly from student to student—“equality” was a hollow concept in the 2-C classroom. The social order applied to everyone and everything. There was no escaping it.

  “Roger! Backing off.”

  Oyamada knew when to play dumb, back down, and follow orders. He always managed to get on the good side of adults and teachers—when he felt like it, at least—creating a little space to retreat back into if things got bad. That’s what made the net he spread around himself so toxic.

  He clasped his hands together in an exaggerated gesture of apology.

  “Sorry about all that, Yasu-kun~! Let’s turn over a new leaf—I’m great at that!”

  He didn’t look sorry at all.

  Stretching his arms and legs wide, Oyamada hurled himself back into his seat with a loud sigh.

  “Mimori-senpai starts acting like the main character, and now this beautiful, sparkly school trip travel scene is ruined! What’d I do to deserve this—”

  That was when it happened. No warning, just—

  White light seared through the bus windows.

  Chapter 1:

  The Goddess and the Summoning

  “YOU’RE TRYIN’ TO TELL ME we’re in another world?! What the hell?!”

  Oyamada’s voice echoed around the dim, stone-carved room, which was more than big enough to hold all of class 2-C.

  When I’d first opened my eyes, I found myself and my entire class here, in a room decked out in what looked like antiques, or maybe props from some medieval fantasy movie. Niches in the walls held lamps that illuminated the stone room with a warm glow.

  “You have all been chosen!” a voice rang out.

  “Huh?! You better tell me what’s goin’ on, right now!” Oyamada demanded, practically foaming at the mouth.

  Before him stood a woman in a tiara who seemed completely unfazed by his outburst.

  She’s definitely got guts.

  The woman had soft skin and light gray hair, and her eyes—were they gold? Color contacts, maybe? But my eyes were especially drawn to her clothes, which were neat, immaculate…and barely there. She wore a scant robe, almost like a western Goddess you’d see in a painting…or maybe if that Goddess had been drawn by a character artist from an anime studio.

  “Of course, let me explain. I am the one who summoned you here, after all,” she said. “I am the Goddess Vicius.”

  Hang on—a goddess?

  Some of the boys started whispering frantically.

  “Whoa, so this is, like, one of those isekai stories?”

  “Totally!”

  “C’mon, it’s a dream, dude.”

  “Then how’re we all having the same dream?”

  “It’s way too realistic for that.”

  So…it’s the trope where the whole class gets summoned, huh?

  “Why couldn’t I get brought here alone?!”

  “Ugh, I feel you.”

  “Yeah, she didn’t choose me, she just grabbed the whole bus. It sucks.”

  I’d heard of books and anime like that—isekai stories, where regular people get teleported to—or even reborn into—a fantasy world.

  At least we didn’t all end up as babies in this one…

  Some of the girls were panicking.

  “Where the heck are we?! I don’t get what’s happening!”

  “We were, like, on a bus
, right?”

  “Are we dead?! Am I a freakin’ ghost right now?!”

  “All right, you got me! Where’s the camera?”

  “Huh?! My phone, like, won’t turn on!”

  “Where’s my stuff? You can’t expect me to go without my makeup and outfits!”

  I guess I should just go with it for now. If this is a dream, I’ll wake up eventually.

  “…”

  I reached up and touched my face, then pinched my cheek, hard.

  Ouch.

  I guess it’s not a dream…but the timing of this whole thing worked out great for me. Looks like everybody already forgot what happened back on the bus.

  I looked around. A few dozen men dressed like cliché RPG guards stood around us in a circle, armed with swords and spears.

  No use resisting, then…

  The whole class was unarmed, of course. Even with Kirihara’s athletic prowess, Oyamada’s brawn, Sogou’s martial arts, and whatever mysterious fighting skills the Takao sisters were rumored to have, it would be suicide to try to overwhelm the armed guards. There was no way our homeroom teacher Zakurogi would try anything, either—the only person you could count on for an outburst was Oyamada.

  Zakurogi stood up.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on here,” he proclaimed, in a voice that tried to bring us all in line, “but we should clearly listen to what this Goddess has to say!” His attempt at leadership was undermined by the way he kept stealing glances at the Goddess’s chest—even in another world, Zakurogi was still the same guy.

  “Thank you, Sensei,” the Goddess said with a neat smile. “If you are all ready, please allow me to explain.”

  And she started weaving a tale right out of a fantasy novel. Apparently there was an evil being—called “the Demon King,” or something—who had been resurrected recently. Whenever that happened, the Kingdom of Alion would summon heroes from “the other world” to be “the chosen ones” and take care of it. The last summoning was 200 years ago, so their existence was more folklore than anything.

  This ability to summon heroes gave Alion a special reputation throughout the continent—since nobody knew when the Lord of Evil would return, they had to stay on Alion’s good side. Even more respected than the Kingdom was the Goddess Vicius, source of those summoned heroes. Not even the King of Alion could lay a finger on members of the Cult of Vicius.