Chapter 52
Chapter 52
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.15 - The Knight Hosts a Banquet (2)
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Normally, banquets were common sense to hold after a preparation period of nearly a week to half a month.
Especially those hosted by nobles had to be grander and more splendid, given the scale of expenditure involved.
Of course, holding one in just a day was practically impossible.
"I hope today's banquet proceeds as planned."
—That was it.
There were no more objections.
If the princess wanted it, then it had to happen.
Even the impossible becomes possible when you throw enough people at it.
Hundreds, no, thousands of elite workers were mobilized, and the banquet preparations were completed in half a day.
The cadets were full of admiration.
The garden, which had been empty until just before dawn, had transformed—no, miraculously changed—into a gorgeously extravagant banquet hall.
It was the fruit of a thousand people's blood, sweat, and tears.
"Huh, when did this fountain get installed here?"
"Wasn't this a flower bed? No, just a sandy lot?"
"Crazy! Those are all jewels!"
"...Selling just one of those would cover five years of living expenses."
Fountains, decorations, orchestras, and mobile kitchens.
Even magical tools illuminating the dark night sky in real time.
There was no greater display of wealth.
...Hmm, or was there? Even with money, pulling this off wasn't possible.
"The princess really is something else."
"Not just any princess. She's Her Highness the Crown Princess."
"Heh."
"But why are we all huddled up like this? Why not somewhere else?"
"You wanna go hang out over there with the nobles? Go ahead if you want."
"...No way in hell."
They suddenly felt a dizzying awe toward power.
The freshman cadets of the Swordsmanship Department, who had been given the bizarre nickname of 18-Bear Nah by their instructor, were clumped together in one spot.
The banquet was clearly held for them, but it felt overwhelmingly burdensome.
As the saying goes, a caterpillar must live on pine needles. For these lifelong commoners, a gathering of nobles was intimidating.
They might get used to it later, but for now, it was just uncomfortable.
Especially...
"Ugh...? I might be imagining it, but it feels like we're the circus attraction, Kunta and the bear cubs."
"It's not imagination. We are the attraction."
"Well, it is a weird combo."
Farmer, beggar, orphan, mercenary, and barbarian.
They couldn't avoid the attention even if they wanted to.
...And not in a positive way.
Among those gazes, there was surely jealousy mixed with mere curiosity.
They had earned the princess's favor, after all. It must sting.
Why did it sting?
Because they were from the bottom rung.
The lowest of the kingdom's lows.
Sure, they were academy cadets now, but their status didn't change.
No matter how skilled they became, like their seniors before them, the discrimination of class would follow them forever.
Still...
"Why are you all huddled up like a pack of meerkats? Did you commit a crime or something?"
Someone with overwhelming confidence and skill wouldn't care about status.
Someone like that man.
"Instructor."
Lee Han, their instructor, approached them without a care for the stares, and the nobles and cadets gawking like they were exotic circus animals quickly looked away.
They had all heard about the entrance ceremony incident.
Even without that, the intimidating aura he exuded unconsciously could make even street thugs back down.
Those who had actually seen him tear a raging wild boar apart with his bare hands in Vulcan knew it wasn't just intimidation.
And this intimidating man cast a somewhat gentle gaze over them.
"Not intentional, but the entire Swordsmanship Department is gathered here."
"Roan Young Master and Assistant Damian aren't here, though?"
"Roan cadet said he had business and vanished. He's always wandering off anyway, so let him be. And assistant? Where's he got time to enjoy the banquet? He's got reports to write."
"What reports?"
"Reports to hand to the dean."
"Th-that's usually your job, Instructor..."
"Why me? I've got an assistant."
"......"
...Come to think of it, the most pitiful one among them might be Damian Pollet.
As they all shared this trivial thought...
"Everyone, good work."
—......
The sudden, out-of-place remark made the entire Swordsmanship Department blink in surprise.
"I'm not just saying that to the bear cubs."
"Not calling us Bear Nah?"
"Some call them teddy bears."
"I-I think just bear cubs is fine."
"You brats, all brawn and no brains."
With that silly joke, the atmosphere lightened.
He made eye contact with every single cadet, sincerely.
Not missing a one.
"First, the chicks."
"Y-yes?!"
"You did good work too. I appreciate how you always jumped rope diligently without slacking, and especially how you organized the bear cubs' liberal arts assignments and other lecture tasks. Thanks for your meticulousness and care."
"Th-that was just..."
As if it was nothing.
They stammered that they just did what they could, but Lee Han simply nodded silently.
"Bear cubs, bow your heads 90 degrees right now and thank them. They're the ones who helped secure your grades."
—Gah!
Instinctively obeying the command, they immediately bowed in gratitude.
Not just because of the order, but from genuine appreciation, their thanks held no jest.
They realized today's victory wasn't solely from their own efforts.
There had been invisible support and help.
"Eeeek-!"
The still-embarrassed girls hid their faces with fans.
They seemed like haughty noble ladies, but they weren't bad people after all.
"And you young masters. You did well too. I heard you handled the guys mocking the bear cubs."
"...We just couldn't stand our Swordsmanship Department being insulted. They're part of it too, aren't they?"
"That's why I'm saying you did well. When we first met, you seemed like annoying young masters, but now I see you're good ones."
"If you're gonna praise us, drop that damn 'young master' bit first."
"Not yet."
"Ugh..."
"Ahaha!"
They groaned, but conversely, the bear cubs were amazed.
They hadn't expected anyone to get angry for their sake.
Touched, they exchanged glances, and those who received them shyly looked away.
Camaraderie.
The trust born from enduring hardships together under the harsh cliff called Lee Han.
This was what it meant to bond through suffering.
Not openly friends, but something like class-transcending camaraderie had surely formed among them.
Tears almost welled up.
"And finally, bear cubs."
"......"
Lee Han called them, and they braced for tears.
What would he say...
—"I'm not saying you did well. Honestly, you just got lucky and won."
"......"
...Their tears vanished, replaced by a different pang in their chests.
A pang of disappointment.
"Instructor..."
"Don't feel bad. You've heard plenty of praise from others, right? Someone has to give the bitter words."
"......"
...As expected from someone who always defied expectations.
While everyone else applauded, he scolded.
However, Lee Han was utterly serious.
Just as with the others.
"You won because the spellcasters got complacent. If they'd fought cautiously and carefully, you'd have lost for sure. Even three minutes would have exhausted your stamina and led to self-destruction."
"That's..."
"Anyone want to argue?"
"......"
...No one.
It was the truth.
In real combat at full power, their limit was three minutes... No, recalling precisely, around two minutes in the fight, they'd thought they were done for.
Unleashing techniques in actual battle was far more grueling than imagined.
If the mages had been even a bit more cold-blooded.
If those minor spells from the end had restrained their mobility from the start, or if they'd used smarter tactics to disperse firepower?
They would have been crushed miserably.
Without a chance to fight back.
Lee Han had pinpointed exactly that.
"The opponent's complacency, your numerical advantage of two more fighters creating surprise, and finally luck. So I can't praise you. Done is done."
"Yes..."
They bowed their heads.
Moments ago, they'd been dreaming of a rosy future amid cheers and flower bouquets, but their strict instructor's words deflated them.
As he pointed out their flaws one by one, today's mistakes and near-death moments flashed by, paling their faces.
A wry smile was inevitable.
However.
"Still, not giving up was good."
—!!?
"You didn't run from the crowd, didn't flee the fireballs, and even when defeat seemed certain at the end, no one quit. Even if you'd lost today, I'd have been satisfied. At least my 'disciples' weren't cowards abandoning comrades. So, well done. The match was awful, but your spirit deserves praise."
Thud.
Lee Han passed by, lightly tapping the left chests of those who fought today with his fist.
Bonk.
For Levi Polt, he gently touched her head instead of her chest.
"You worked hard. That much, I acknowledge."
—...
They widened their eyes, gazing at their instructor.
Stroking their chests and heads, they felt a warmth rising from deep within.
Yes, the instructor had finally 'acknowledged' them.
"Tapping heart and head. Mercenary-style encouragement."
"What kind of encouragement?"
"For mercenaries who return from the battlefield with head and heart intact. Common praise for rookies."
"I see."
A fitting encouragement from an instructor whose past always raised suspicions.
"Listen up, everyone. As I said, techniques aren't everything. Don't envy what I taught them; cherish what you have. What you've learned is more stable and superior."
The young masters.
The noble cadets, who had received cheers but still felt bittersweet, flinched at his words.
They harbored regrets over not going to Vulcan, and today's battle had stung their hearts.
And the instructor seemed to have already sensed their pain.
"Don't be regretful. You're still young, and we've got plenty of time together. I'll train you properly."
"...Hearing that from you is scarier than comforting, Instructor."
"You won't die. You won't."
"Should I laugh at this...?"
It sounded like a joke, but felt anything but.
Still, hearing it soothed them—the psychology of immature youth.
"Same for you three. Learning Fighting Technique and techniques together doesn't guarantee strength. Adding one can backfire, making you mediocre at both. Treat techniques as training wheels. Don't overvalue them."
"We're getting lectured too?"
"You're my disciples too."
"......"
"Alright, lecture over. Enjoy the banquet. And rest. I'll give you three days off. No need to attend classes for a while."
"......"
"I'm not joking, so believe me, you brats."
—Woooah!
Cheers of joy.
But whether it was joy from the vacation or from his acknowledgment...
——Probably only they knew.
...Brats.
As if his words were a catalyst, they shook off their tension in one go and began enjoying the banquet in their own ways.
And as the meerkat pack dispersed, people from other departments slowly approached to talk to his disciples.
As expected, once the hedgehog spines relaxed and they spread out, it became easier to approach.
'Well, when else would they mingle if not now.'
He understood that sentiment.
Banquets often served as rare bridges between departments that rarely mixed.
An opportunity for those wanting to connect with Swordsmanship Department folks.
'Bearsoon, you're in for it.'
Levi Polt, promoted from Chick No.1 to Bearsoon, had captured the attention of many men.
Well, she was pretty cute, so it made sense she'd be popular.
No surprise guys were hitting on her.
Of course.
'Touch her, and it's three months bedridden...'
Bears, male or female, weren't to be touched.
Especially ones he raised—they might not tear people in half, but they could fold a waist clean over.
Hoping no idiot tried anything to end up folded, he...
"Huh? Where are you going, Instructor?"
"I've got business."
"Her Highness the princess will be here soon."
"That's exactly why I have to go."
"??"
"Have fun, Cadet Irene. Seems like plenty of guys are interested in you."
"Eh, no interest. How am I supposed to mingle with those types?"
"You're one too."
"Ah!"
"......"
...Clumsy possessed girl.
Shaking his head with a wry smile, Lee Han left.
Irene Windler stared blankly at his retreating back.
[Arin, what're you staring at? Upper arms? Back muscles?]
"You think I'm a perv like you? ...Ahem, I glanced a bit, but it wasn't on purpose."
[As expected of my Arin! You know what's up, hehe!]
"Ugh, seriously! That's not it!"
Irene Windler blushed and scolded the ghost, causing the approaching men to instinctively back away.
They recalled that a mage's madness was deadlier than a poisoned rose, valuing their lives.
The venomous rose Irene Windler, who unwittingly repelled the males, said to the ghost girl,
"Just... maybe I'm imagining it, but the instructor's eyes..."
[Eyes?]
"Looked like they were smiling."
[...Huh?]
Isn't smiling good?
The ghost girl tilted her head, but Irene Windler shrugged, unsure what exactly felt off.
If she had to put it into words,
'He looks too happy, which is kinda scary instead.'
Thinking it was a weird notion even for her, she gave an awkward laugh.
Clop! Clop!
A group on horseback traversed an empty street in the capital, heading to a secluded spot.
Whatever it was, they moved with urgency, no slowness in their pace.
Eventually, they entered the deepest extraterritorial zone of the capital.
Parasite Slums.
A street where the kingdom's bottom-feeders gathered.
The capital had tried purging it multiple times, but like cockroaches or parasites, they hid well and reemerged.
It was the capital's indelible shadow, a bottomless pit like sheer cliffs.
Some exaggeration, but the danger was real, so only heinous criminals sought it out willingly.
Yet here they were, entering on horseback—and in fairly luxurious clothes, no less.
Odd indeed.
No slum criminal blocked them; it was eerily quiet.
As if everyone had unanimously decided to stay indoors today.
"Huff, huff! W-we're good now that we're here, right?"
"Yeah, we can relax now."
"But seriously, was fleeing like this necessary? Feels like we're overreacting..."
"Fool! Where the princess is, that mad inquisitor is nearby! He'd sniff out our suspiciousness for sure. How could we stay? Running is the answer."
"Mm."
Heresy Inquisitor John Ray Albert.
His name alone made them shiver.
Even reading his records in reports terrified them.
If their existence was exposed, he'd come with cross in hand.
A superhuman cloaked in fearsome death.
"Huff, still, we're lucky. It deviated from plan, but we escaped safely."
"Who'd think the slums would help..."
"Not the slums—the [Organization] made it possible. Never forget our gratitude—"
—"Organization, huh? Mind telling me its name, friends?"
Chill!
"......"
Step, step. Light footsteps approached.
A man strolled up casually, like on a walk, with a faint smile.
They stared in disbelief.
Why... why was he here?
But the man smiled as if offended.
"You wouldn't lose track of your friends, would you, Instructor Hans?"
"......"
"Haha, you're smiling, Instructor. Why the straight face?"
"...S-Sir Tur...tle..."
He—Metallurgy Department Instructor Hans—shuddered, calling the man's surname.
Lee Han's surname.
And he...
"Can't figure out how I tracked you?"
Lee Han playfully tapped the ground.
But unlike his playful gesture, the longsword at his side gleamed coldly.
"Not that strange. I have a good nose."
Thud.
"Especially for spellcasters. I sniff them out like a pro...!"
Thump.
—"Especially ones reeking like you 'vermin'."
The hand axe in his grip exuded savage menace.
To hunt 'beasts' who had abandoned their humanity.