A Knight Gets the Autumn Blues (3)

From the moment the word angel surfaced, the two boys fell in together as if they had been waiting for it, and began trading every scrap of information they held. Sharing, of course, did not mean either of them admitted to being a regressor or a possessor. Even if their experiences ran side by side, both were far too wary by nature to grow close in a single breath.

"What was the angel you saw like?"

"Mm... honestly, I couldn't make out the face. But the instant I looked, I just knew: Ah. That's an angel. ...Instinctively?"

"Much the same as mine."

"Oh, and one thing more. Beautiful, and somehow sorrowful... that thought crossed my mind, too."

"That as well."

"Mm..."

"..."

All at once the two boys grew spare with their words. The conversation had not died so much as stalled while each of them turned over the moment he had met that being, and neither face was a pleasant one.

"The more I try to remember, the worse it sits. Like I'm shut up in fog and can't see a step ahead."

"As if ink had been flicked across one corner of the brain."

"Ah! That's exactly it!"

Remembering only dragged them deeper into a labyrinth, so all they could do was sigh. They had met an angel, and yet they could not even call the angel to mind. Some decisive memory refused to surface.

Watching his disciples from a third party's seat, Lee Han had a fair idea why they looked so choked with frustration.

So the memories from when they regressed—or got possessed—are fogged, are they?

The sensation of having dreamed something violent, only to open your eyes and find ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that none of it remained.

That angel... on the Spring Fairy's level? Or above even that?

Well. It was an angel, after all. A messenger of the gods, a sacred life set beside dragons and the fairies of the seasons. If a being like that chose to make its presence felt, a thinning memory was only to be expected.

They said that most who met a fairy or a dragon lost their minds entirely. Seen that way, a blurred recollection was the merciful outcome.

Did the chick meet an angel, too?

Picturing the neighbor next door having gone through the same encounter, Lee Han let out a short snort of laughter. And no wonder.

I got clubbed in the back of the head and found my memories that way, and everyone else gets an angel. Am I the only one stuck in an old genre?

The thought that he alone was living in something outdated pulled a chuckle out of him. Even so.

Classic is more my taste, anyway.

Honestly, the sight of boys that grown going angel, angel at each other was a little much, and Lee Han was glad he wasn't stuck in the middle of it.

After that the two boys talked for a long while. They did not speak of the angel again.

"There's nothing we can actually learn."

"It isn't a being that becomes known simply because we wish to know it."

No point clutching a problem that had no answer. So most of what they discussed was the future.

"In the future I saw, the temple never ran this mad."

"It isn't in the information I know, either."

They seemed to be sharing their views without reserve, and still they hid what needed hiding. Only natural. Even if they had passed through the same experiences and the same events, could they really lay everything bare? For boys of their temperaments, sharing even this bare minimum was no small decision. One of them doubted too much, and the other worried too much, so both stepped carefully.

Which was why—

"If I tell you the information you want, you will pay a price."

"Th-then I will, too. I'll pay a fair price."

They settled on taking their profit through a proper transaction. Keep suspecting each other and hoarding what they knew, and the talk would only drag itself into the mud. For the two of them, this was as far as a concession went.

Then—

"What about you, Instructor?"

"...Hm?"

"Will you make a deal?"

"Me?"

At the black-haired boy's sudden offer, Lee Han blinked. He had not expected a proposal like that.

"...Seeing you so thrown only throws me further. You don't wish to know? It is information about what lies ahead. Merely knowing it would be an enormous gain."

"..."

He wasn't wrong. Information about the future was not limited to the events that had yet to happen. It also meant Lee Han could get his hands on the bottomless wealth those two possessed. A mansion like a palace. Three meals a day paved in truffle and beef. An endlessly tempting offer, and one that anyone who wasn't a fool ought to take.

"Uh... I don't particularly need it?"

"...??"

"You don't have to tell me. And I'm a broke wage slave with nothing to trade you. What deal?"

"...The price does not have to be coin."

"I said I'm fine. The ones who've already got it are always the worst...! Tch. Go squeeze blood from a flea, you shameless noble bastard."

"I-I had no intention of fleecing you, Instructor. There has been a misunderstanding."

The boy who had just been cursed at looked thoroughly wronged. He had not spoken with any thought of wringing out an unreasonable price, and all he had gotten for it was a scolding. He meant to clear the misunderstanding and go on, but—

A soft motion.

"It's fine. I mean it."

Lee Han cut the current clean, holding out an open palm, firm.

"..."

For a moment the black-haired boy went silent.

"Hm?"

Looking at Lee Han's palm, a tremor ran through his pupils all at once. Lee Han wondered what had gotten into him, then decided it wasn't worth the attention and shrugged.

"Ahem. That one over there made me an offer a lot like yours, once, a long time ago, and I turned that down too. I didn't need it."

"..."

"Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying what you know is worthless. It's worth an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠astronomical sum, which is exactly why I don't want to hear it. If a simple man like me starts moving while he calculates the road ahead, all he gets is a headache."

"..."

"So you two handle it properly. All I can do is fight. But you aren't like me. You can do anything, can't you? You're smart, and you'll pull off whatever you set your mind to. So keep an eye on the chick, and on Little Bear. If something comes up that needs my strength, call me. That's the only thing I can do for you."

"..."

"I'm getting up first. I've got class to prepare. Don't be late yourselves. Especially you! You noble brat, show up for attendance!"

In the end Lee Han left them with a scolding. He had wanted a clean parting, and somehow the nagging came out anyway.

Is this what a master's heart feels like?

...He didn't know. Whatever it was, his own temper must have gotten a little twisted.

Is it because I'm getting old?

He did not want to turn into that kind of old man. Lee Han missed his youth.

...Not that his life had ever had much of a youth to miss.

"...He even paid for our coffee on the way out. A man who calls himself broke with his own mouth, honestly..."

"..."

Derek looked at the silver coin left on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the table. Young Master Roen had already pressed a heap of gold into the restaurant owner's hands, and as if that were an entirely separate matter, Lee Han had settled the cost of their food as well. A diligent man, through and through.

"Mm."

Derek had to put a little force into the corner of his mouth, which kept trying to twitch of its own accord. At this rate he was going to smile.

So this is what it feels like... to be acknowledged.

Turning the man's words over, a flush of embarrassment and a rush of joy hit him at once.

"...He trusts us."

Unpack what Lee Han had left behind, and it came to this: he believed them, and so he asked nothing. A tone soaked through with the conviction that you will move more cleverly than I ever could, if I knew. Blunt as it was, trust lay underneath it, and that was why he could say it so easily. Derek's face heated of its own accord. It was the first time anyone—no, the first time a man he respected—had recognized him like this. So his face burned, and at the same time he was proud. Proud that he could be recognized at all.

Then—

"—The hand was a wreck."

"Yes?"

"The hand... was an utter mess."

"?"

Roen had said something that seemed to grasp at empty air, and Derek tilted his head. He couldn't tell what it was supposed to mean.

"...Did you see the instructor's palm."

"His palm? Ah, I—I did see it?"

"How was it."

"Th-that is..."

The question came out of nowhere, and Derek was a little flustered, but the skill carried him through. He called the instructor's palm back at once.

"...There was an incredible amount of callus, wasn't there? Wounds and scars, too. Not just the palm. The whole fist looked torn to pieces. Haah! Now that I think about it, he's really something, isn't he? How harsh must all those years have been..."

The more carefully he recalled it, the more the admiration spilled out. And the wounds and scars had not stopped at the palm. They seemed to cover the body. Marks that proved how he had lived, and how hard he had worked. Anyone looking at them would have felt respect whether they wanted to or not.

But—

"Why the scars, though? Impressive, yes, but it isn't exactly news...?"

"..."

"Young Master?"

"...You seem clever, and yet there is a sloppy corner to you."

"Pardon?"

Why the sudden criticism—

"—Have you forgotten that the instructor received the Fairy's Blessing."

"...!"

Thud. For an instant the back of Derek's head hurt, as if a tray had struck him hard and kept on going.

"Ah..."

The Fairy's Blessing. In the instructor's own words, Bone Reforging. And just as those words suggested, the bodies of the instructor and of Dire Wolf, once they had received the Fairy's Blessing, had been built anew, and the wounds of the past had vanished. And yet the instructor he had seen today—

Why is he covered in calluses and scars?

...No. How was that even possible? The question left his head blank, and the answer came from Roen's mouth.

"Every one of those scars and calluses came after the Fairy's Blessing. Meaning they formed within a single month."

Absurd. Roen could not even dare to guess at it. On martial strength alone, the instructor had already reached a height where the kingdom would be hard pressed to find him a match. And a man like that had not rested. To Derek, the wounds had even created the illusion of marks accumulated across thirty years.

In other words—

He lived one month as if it were thirty years?

Ha! A hollow laugh came of its own accord. Wounds like those meant he had kept at training that walked the line between life and death. More than that, the instructor possessed an abnormal power of recovery, and he had been wounded faster than that recovery could close him, so the scars themselves had gone on remaining.

...Fierce? Even that word was laughable. It would not be too much to say he was living every minute and every second with the whole of his strength.

Perhaps that is why he has no need to know the future...

Not a man fretting over tomorrow, or over a year from now, but a man living the present at full power. To someone who lived a month as if it were thirty years, the misfortunes and crises waiting down the road would not mean very much.

...Because he would live each day without regret.

"...I nearly made a grave mistake. I almost set shackles on the instructor instead."

"The instructor does shine brightest when he's left free."

"I agree."

Roen gave a large, plain nod and admitted it. The offer he had made had been worth nothing at all.

...There was a little self-reproach in it, but the talk found its way back to the point quickly.

"From what you've seen, Young Master, how do you think the temple means to cause trouble?"

"There are too many methods to choose among. ...Do you have any sense of the shape it might take?"

"..."

"You do."

"Er, it's a bit uncertain, so..."

"I will listen."

"...Haha."

Somewhere along the way he had settled into the posture of an excellent listener. Derek's discomfort was plain on his face, but soon—

"Hoo. That time is coming soon, isn't it. I think they'll aim for that time."

"That time?"

"Yes. One of the greatest events in the academy's autumn."

"...You mean that."

"Yes."

"If it were me, I would target that Entrance Examination without fail."

It was also the season when the academy stood open to people from outside.

"As you say, the timing is apt. The temple's spies would slip in easily."

"..."

"You look worried. Well. If spies are creeping in, the other students will be in danger too. But do not worry. I will do everything in my power to see that no such thing occurs."

"...I'll trust you."

Derek answered as if relieved, but in truth his worry lay somewhere else entirely.

...So it's finally coming.

The lead who would carry the story in earnest. Looked at one way, everything until now had only been the prologue, and this was the principal role that would drive it from here.

The main heroine.

The so-called female lead.