Chapter 109
Chapter 109
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 109
>Chapter Title: The One Who Travels to a Conflict Zone for Vacation
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>*
>Many people—truly, a great many people—misunderstand a certain fact.
The fact is that Ivan was by no means a racist. This was a rather unfair accusation. After all, he came from a world where discriminating against people based on skin color or individuality was illegal.
The people of this barbaric world probably couldn't even imagine that such a law could exist, but that was the nature of civilization.
Therefore, Ivan did not despise other races for their unique traits, peculiarities, or differences from humanity. Wasn't that too base an action for a civilized man?
As a representative of Earth, he always had to act rationally. Thus, he assessed other races for logical reasons.
Let’s take an example.
Orcs, giants, and tauruses were closer to beasts than people. Just because they could speak and had their own cultures, did that make them people? No. Parrots could speak, and sperm whales also enjoyed a cultural life.
People needed to have morality. That was one of the things Ivan firmly believed, even in this horribly savage world. So, let's set the demonkin aside.
Another prominent demi-human race was, of course, the elves.
Ivan was confident he wouldn't waste a single second defining elves. There was no room for debate. They were not people. Because they had no morality.
Indeed, "elf" and "morality" were words that were difficult to reconcile. Water and oil might at least mix if you shake them, but Ivan had never seen even a hint of morality mix when he shook an elf.
Instead, the elves tried to atone for their sad nature in their own way. They had fought alongside the Alliance during the war. Since they had fought, risking their lives, there was room for consideration. (Sadly, no room for improvement has been observed thus far.)
And finally.
Dwarves.
These half-sized moles (because they were short, dug into the ground, had beards, and squeaked) actually had some similarities to Ivan. This was true in their lack of prejudice when dealing with other races. (The beards were not a similarity.)
Due to the minor issue of having so little prejudice that they sided with the demonkin, their zealous espionage activities aimed at spreading a strange ideology of Equalism, and the geographical issue of their sphere of activity being adjacent to the northern front, Ivan had made quite a few memories with them during the war.
Therefore, he had never even considered the possibility that he might one day do something with a dwarf. Other than killing each other, that is. The grudges between them were far too deep for anything else.
How many dwarves had died by his hand? And how many humans had the dwarves killed? It was ridiculous even to try and count the resentments. Arguing over who started it was also laughable. That was just the nature of war.
Therefore,
“The Secretary Comrade has spoken! Equalism does not mean a future state that we must achieve! We call the movement of reality, which sublates the present state, we call all of it Equalism!”
-Waaaaaah—!!
The moles gathered in the banquet hall were each raising a horn tankard as large as their own heads and letting out monstrous roars.
Ivan felt like sighing.
A massive bowl was placed before his eyes. It was filled to the brim with beer, sloshing and bubbling with foam. Astonishingly, the dwarves called this a cup.
“Drink, Comrade!!”
The dwarf’s small eyes, filled with goodwill, sparkled as he laughed. The words "dwarf's laughter" or "goodwill" were so foreign to Ivan that he momentarily got goosebumps.
It probably wasn't poisoned. If they were to use poison, they would put it somewhere else; these creatures couldn't even imagine poisoning beer.
Amidst the dwarves, who were all chattering loudly, occasionally shouting quotes from the "Secretary Comrade," and intermittently singing a bizarre song called "Anthem for the Secretary Comrade," Ivan felt a sense of solitude.
The path of civilization and reason was so long and arduous.
To understand this situation, one must return to the time just after the "retreat."
It was a time when the word "peace" was not yet a joke. Ivan was already starting to miss Pritschenkaya, though it had only been a few days.
EP16. The Person Who Goes to a Conflict Zone for an Overseas Trip During Vacation.
“Nice.”
Ivan sat leisurely in his newly renovated director's office, grooming his beard.
The orphanage, which had been the site of Droan's siege tank terror attack, had been rebuilt larger and grander under the patronage of the Saintess and Elizaveta.
It even had a chapel inside now. Although a resident priest wasn't assigned, meaning prayers were only held on Sundays, it was a remarkable achievement. The children were always nursing minor injuries.
Being able to receive a priest's healing sacrament for free was an enormous contribution to the orphanage's finances.
-Slurp.
Taking a sip of the fragrant tea brewed from roasted barley, Ivan was enjoying a long-awaited peace.
He couldn't carry this perfect beard comb with him for fear of functional issues, so Ivan had been deprived of this precious time for a while.
It was a small but fulfilling moment. The lack of any assigned missions was a major reason.
The academy was on vacation, the potential spies from allied nations had all returned to their home countries, and the children of the Hero's Party—the primary subjects of his protection mission—were all hospitalized in the Pritschenkaya Grand Cathedral.
With the Saintess personally nursing them, there would be no complications, and since they were cooped up in a safe place quietly healing, there was no need for protection.
In other words, it was vacation time for Ivan as well. It was all thanks to the students who, though unintentionally, would sadly be spending their entire break in sickbeds. (He heard Isabelle had been warned by the Saintess for grinding her teeth too much.)
-KABOOM—!!
“Hm.”
So even when the door flew open with enough force to explode, Ivan was able to carefully set down his beard comb instead of throwing an axe. This was why a man needed to live with some leisure.
“Enrique. You don't knock with your feet.”
“Yes, Director. Got a minute?”
“No.”
“What are you doing now?”
“Vacation. I’m off-duty.”
Enrique chuckled, plopped down on the director's office sofa, and whistled.
“Wow, this place has changed a lot, huh? You even have a bed now! Right, people should sleep in beds.”
“Don't you sleep in a coffin?”
“Huh?”
“Hm?”
Didn't vampires normally sleep in coffins?
>Come to think of it, she didn't seem to have carried a coffin around during the war.
Ivan was witnessing the destruction of his common sense.
“I really want to smack you. Pupil. Stop talking nonsense and pack your things.”
“Pack?”
“Yeah, let's go to work.”
“I can't do that.”
This country had no concept of vacation. The level of welfare was such that not even the Church would think of things like guaranteeing leisure time for workers to ensure sustainable labor.
Therefore, like all exploited laborers, Ivan had to seize his rights with his own hands.
“I believe I said I'm off-duty today.”
“Seriously, this is absurd. Since when do we have on-duty, off-duty shifts… Weren't you the commander of the Counter-Intelligence Command?”
“A commander must rest so his subordinates can rest too.”
“Oh.”
Enrique nodded with an impressed look before quickly snapping out of it.
“I was almost convinced!! I’m telling you, it's urgent. Pupil, do you remember how long it's been since you last saw me?”
“Eighty-seven days.”
“…You remember that… Aren't you curious where I've been?”
“Hm.”
That was outside Ivan's jurisdiction. Ivan was currently a public servant, and public servants were a profession indifferent to all matters outside their own domain. (Some of Krasilov's public servants were even indifferent to their own duties.)
Enrique clutched her forehead and slumped onto the sofa. Not even sparing a glance at Ivan's expression, she propped her legs on the table and crossed them.
“Things are going crazy up north.”
“I see.”
“I mean the dwarves are going crazy.”
“Hm.”
Without looking at Enrique, Ivan continued to comb his beard. A tangled beard should not be forced through. One had to gently work through the tangles with the teeth of the comb, using the snap of the wrist to smooth the grain. Otherwise, the tangled hairs would break.
Enrique shouted in frustration.
“Hey, just! Listen!”
“I am listening.”
“Aren't you curious at all about what suddenly happened to the dwarves, why I know about it, and where I've been all this time?”
“I can guess.”
Without turning his gaze, Ivan continued speaking.
“The underground terror in Pritschenkaya was caused by a Dwarven siege excavator. I know you left then to intercept the underground invasion yourself.”
“Uh… uh-huh. Right.”
“If dwarves dug a tunnel in the undercity, it's common sense for both of us that you'd have to trace that route back. To identify and block their invasion path.”
“…Yeah.”
“Along the way, you encountered dwarves, there was a battle, and you must have figured out why on earth the dwarves suddenly advanced all the way to Pritschenkaya.”
“…That's right.”
Ivan put down his beard comb and looked at Enrique.
“In that case, it's a matter for the military.”
“…”
“Enrique. We can't mediate every conflict.”
This was especially true for the Hero's Party. They had to be able to distinguish between military duties and their missions.
The Hero does not participate in wars. War is the role of the army. No matter how powerful one's martial strength, one cannot be deployed on every front.
The Hero's true value lies in not revealing himself. The very fact that a force capable of killing the Seven Dragon Generals was lurking somewhere on the front lines served as a powerful deterrent.
Even if the front lines collapsed, even if countless people were being slaughtered, the Hero would never appear to save them. Instead, the Hero's Party delved into enemy territory to assassinate the Seven Dragon Generals and the Demon King.
Therefore, the Hero was not, strictly speaking, a guardian of humanity. If one were to classify their role, they were closer to humanity's avengers, agents of vengeance.
It was the same now that the war was over. The seclusion of the Hero's Party contributed greatly to the peace of the Allied Kingdoms. The fact that individuals capable of assassinating even the Demon King were scattered and living in seclusion in various countries was, in itself, a source of terror for would-be conquerors.
“I know. I get it. But pupil, this is a more serious problem than you think.”
Enrique looked at Ivan with a bitter smile.
“They were preparing for war, not a terror attack. The dwarves, I mean. Munitions factories were operating throughout the entire mountain range.”
Meeting Ivan's gaze directly, Enrique slowly opened her mouth.
“Not against us, not against humanity. They were preparing for a civil war. Abiditas, you remember him, right?”
“…”
Ivan's gaze deepened. Abiditas, the Lord of Evil Dragons. Why was that specter, long dead, being brought up now…?
“That mad lich was annihilated… but his apostles are still alive. They have been, ever since Abiditas's flying island fell. They've split the dwarves in two and kidnapped the Secretary-General's son.”
“…”
“If they win the civil war, the flames of war will spread to the northern front. They will definitely want to destroy this country.”
What the apostles of Abiditas wanted was likely revenge. Retribution against the blasphemers who killed their god.
Their holy war would inevitably be directed at Krasilov. The dwarven civil war was merely a prelude.
Enrique had spent all her recent time contacting the anti-war dwarves and assessing the state of the conflict.
“Krasilov's national strength is no longer capable of waging another war. 'Little' Ivan. Please.”
Looking at the most reliable and competent expert when it came to dealing with dwarves and necromancers.
Enrique straightened her posture with a serious look in her eyes.
“Let's save this country. Let's go finish the job we couldn't in the last war.”
Ivan gazed quietly into Enrique's eyes before letting out a sigh. He carefully placed the beard comb in a desk drawer and clicked the complex lock shut.
“Looks like my vacation is going to be a long one.”
*