Chapter 89
Chapter 89
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.23 – The Knight Meets Privately (7)
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...I really screwed up big time.
Stepping out of the building, the harsh slap of reality hit him all at once.
Just a minute ago, his head had been pounding with rage, so he'd smashed everything in sight without a second thought. But now, surveying the destruction he'd wrought, it was clear he'd gone way overboard.
The building—easily over a hundred pyeong in size—lay in ruins. No one was dead, but there were enough guys looking at weeks or months in bed to fill a truck...
No, make that three trucks.
If this got out...
'This ain't ending with a pay cut or a written apology...'
He'd already told the maid to ask his sister to clean up the mess, but even she might struggle with this one.
Well, actually, with her influence, she could probably bury a scandal like this without breaking a sweat.
'I've got a real leash on me now.'
He'd already been under tight control before, but now it felt like the collar was choking him.
'...This is insane.'
Lee Han summed up his situation with a bitter grimace.
What a total disaster—no way around it.
Still...
"M-Master..."
"...Why are you here? I told you to hide somewhere safe."
"B-But..."
For some reason, he felt zero regret.
What was this feeling called again?
'Favoritism?'
A teacher shouldn't play favorites with students, but Lee Han knew emotions didn't work that way.
She was a good kid.
Worth teaching. And from what he knew...
'No, scratch that.'
Correction.
She was just a 'good child.'
Wanting rewards proportional to the good she'd done wasn't wrong, was it?
So.
"Let's go grab some food. I'm starving."
The cleanup would be a headache, but his chest felt refreshingly clear.
"......"
The girl stood there, mouth agape, watching her teacher trudge out unsteadily.
The guild hall—the twentieth largest in the capital's eastern district—had been on the verge of total collapse. It was hard to believe her own master was the one who'd done it.
-Overwhelming.
That was the word that came to mind as she watched him casually flatten foes she could never hope to beat. Levi swallowed dryly.
"M-Master..."
"So you've officially decided on 'master' now that you're no longer a student, huh?"
"N-No, that's not—!?"
"Kidding. Just kidding."
"......Ah."
"...My bad. No more jokes from now on. Don't make that face."
"Huh?"
"......"
"...What?"
Tears...
Only then did she realize tears had welled up in her eyes.
And that they were now spilling over.
Why?
"...S-Sorry... S-Sorry..."
Levi didn't even know why she was crying. She kept wiping at her glistening eyes and mumbling apologies.
But instead of looking troubled or scolding her, he said,
"It happens when the tension lets up or relief sets in. All the scary guys are gone now—relax. ...So, could you stop crying? I'm no good at comforting people..."
His words were gentle encouragement, paired with worried eyes.
It was impossible to reconcile this fidgeting, concerned man with the one who'd just demolished the guild hall. Looking up at him—truly worried for her—Levi...
*Chomp!*
"Uuuu... Hic."
"......"
...threw herself into his arms and sobbed quietly.
"...If you're gonna cry, cry loud. Why so quiet?"
His mutter only made the girl's heaving sobs grow louder.
-Yes, now I get it.
Why the tears had come so suddenly.
It wasn't shock from the guild being trashed.
Tears could flow from relief—and from joy.
Someone had fought like that for a nobody like her. Knowing she had an unconditional ally—
That fact alone made it impossible for the girl to hold back her tears.
Levi sobbed into his chest for a long while.
A long, long while...
Meanwhile, the late-arriving actors—who'd been gearing up to take the stage—...
"Looks like we didn't need to show up after all?"
"Indeed."
"Hmph, Kunta wanted to fight too."
"Timing is everything in life."
"Our junior alumni was putting on quite the show for once."
"...Haha."
"......"
...ended up not even getting bit parts, their faces awkward.
Guess you gotta run instead of hesitating if you want the chance.
Still, relieved smiles played on the lips of the seven cadets.
Above all, their comrade was safe. That was what mattered.
Originally, all eighty were supposed to mobilize, but they'd decided against it and sent just the seven as reps. Looked like sitting tight had been the right call anyway.
Even so.
"So, Jack. What'd you find?"
"While the instructor was wrecking the place, turns out Tristan's involved after all. This is gonna get messy."
"...Tristan, huh..."
Sometimes you only learn the full picture on-site.
The man with the striking black eyes looked distinctly troubled as he absorbed the intel from his subordinate.
Tristan.
A name laced with love, hate, and outright loathing.
Especially the family head—an undeniably great knight. If only that bastard would...
"Fix his womanizing, and he'd be perfect."
"...Do you have ties to Marchioness Jenimia?"
The twin-sword boy's question.
He'd let on that he knew too much.
He pondered his answer for a moment, then shook his head.
"Can't say we have no connection, but calling it one would be weird too."
"...?"
He could only give a cryptic response.
'Right now,' he truly hadn't shared any fate with her.
"That noble talk? Speak plain."
"Kunta needs to relearn common tongue. Can't understand a word from the darkie."
The merc and barbarian grumbled, and he could only give a wry smile—no easy way to explain.
But at the same time, a fresh sense of wonder rose in him at bantering so casually with this trio.
'Coming back in time really is a massive blessing.'
Friends with former 'enemies,' even alumni. Who'd have thought?
'...This why they say school and regional ties are king?'
Recalling a line from a past—or future—subordinate, he turned to gaze at his two newly forged connections.
"Uh, shouldn't we just back off now?"
The suspiciously extraordinary gray-haired girl he'd never met in past or present.
"...I know, I know. I get that I gotta hold back right now...!"
*Grind!*
And the mad villainess he'd never imagined befriending... now just a jealous, age-appropriate innocent blonde mage burning with envy.
What a sight.
'I've kept my master well indeed.'
In this blessed second life, grateful for the bonds he'd gained through his master, Roan turned a quiet gaze toward the still-childlike girl in his master's arms.
'...So it was you. Didn't recognize you with the changed looks and name.'
He realized it today.
Not because of the guild or Tristan.
Her quietly sobbing back told him.
...Silent cries.
That one—or perhaps she...
The 'Saintess of the Battlefield' had always wept like that when sad.
Even at a close comrade's death, she'd only heave with quiet sorrow, never raising her voice.
As if she didn't know how to cry out loud.
'...A habit from childhood.'
"Haa..."
Roan barely held back his own tears.
His most trusted comrade.
Covered head to toe in burns, always masked. Seemed timid at all times, yet on the battlefield vanguard, braver and greater than any—a commander and warrior without peer.
After the Mercenary King's death, she'd reformed the near-disbanded Mercenary Union to become the mercenaries' new leader: the Mercenary Queen.
The nobles' terror. The noble warrior always at the forefront to save a corrupt kingdom.
...Yet despite claiming all that glory, a comrade who'd never known true happiness—a tragic life through and through.
Guilt engulfed Roan.
'I'm sorry. I feel so guilty, Zan. I should've recognized you first... but I didn't see it at all.'
What a worthless fool.
After all, she'd saved his life countless times.
There were excuses, sure.
She'd never once spoken of her original life.
Her hair had turned fully white from the grueling ordeal, losing its true color entirely.
Even after three years together, she'd only hesitantly revealed her gender—and never her real name.
Just the Battlefield Saintess.
[Ark Zan.] ...The ruler called the people's 'Ark.'
No one had ever been curious about her past or life.
Not even him, who'd fought back-to-back with her.
But what use were excuses now?
He hadn't recognized her in the end...
'Guess that's why they say life is an endless chain of regrets.'
Roan reflected anew on how selfish he'd been, how little care he'd shown others.
Even before his return, he'd wielded the sword well and been hailed a hero...
But the people had never truly accepted him.
Probably because he never looked after others, living selfishly.
The people might see him as a hero, but instinctively knew life would grow harder under his rule.
So he regretted it.
Better if he'd died on the battlefield, letting her—no, letting others—live.
'Would the future have been brighter then?'
...Who knows.
Something a failure like him couldn't predict.
But failure or not...!
'I won't let your life turn tragic again. I'll stake everything to stop it.'
Roan swore it.
Even if she didn't remember him—if he did—she was no stranger anymore.
So he resolved: her life wouldn't end in tragedy like before.
...Of course.
'For now, I'll settle for a supporting role.'
The star of this stage wasn't him.
His master—always pulling off the unexpected and terrifying—that was the true lead.
'How will you unravel these tangled threads?'
The variable. The singularity.
He always exceeded Roan's predictions and futures, bestowing teachings on paths Roan couldn't grasp.
The regressor watched with shining eyes, full of eager anticipation for what choice he'd make this time.