Chapter 45
Chapter 45
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 45
>Chapter Title: An Attack Always Occurs During the Academy's Field Trip (9)
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*
When the report that the Knight Academy’s field training had been targeted by a demonic terrorist attack reached the Counter-Intelligence Command, Dmitry laughed heartily and said:
“Dock that bastard’s pay.”
“Yes, Lieutenant Colonel.”
The Counter-Intelligence Command had been paying close attention to the university’s events. Naturally, the security measures for the training site had been prepared to perfection.
The Crown Prince’s faction? Hmm. They’ve been quiet since the last incident.
Foreign anti-government groups. What could a bunch of cripples who’ve had their arms and legs cut off possibly do?
And demons? There was no way those bastards had the capacity to deploy operational forces this far, near Prichekalya.
Thus, after objective evidence and rational deduction, Dmitry had concluded that there were no threats to Saint Yansk University.
What kind of moron would plant a terrorist cell in the capital just to ruin a university event?
They might as well blow up the royal palace while they were at it.
And to do it at a training session personally led by Enrique? Ha! What a bunch of fools. And they get a steady paycheck for this?
As a result, when the third informant reported the same story, Dmitry rubbed his dry face and let out a hollow laugh.
“…Dock my pay.”
“Yes, Lieutenant Colonel.”
This was insane.
He grabbed his coat and left the command center. He had to go see his Senior. Since he had been at the scene himself, he would surely know something.
*
“You know, Esidis.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
“I haven’t even started talking yet.”
“I’m hearing that story for the fourth time now.”
Esidis looked at Isabelle with a serious expression.
When news of the terrorist attack during the field training spread throughout the university, she had rushed to find her long-time, and almost only, friend.
But when she arrived at her house, there was no sign of a victim who had been caught in a terrorist attack.
Next to half a dozen broken wooden swords, she was busy demolishing a scarecrow with a new one.
The scarecrow, which had a suspiciously detailed mustache, shattered under Isabelle’s strike and rolled across the ground….
“Still, just listen. I feel like I’m really going crazy, I’m so confused.”
“…Uh-huh…”
“So, this is about a friend of mine.”
Esidis barely stopped the cold, hard fact, *‘You don’t have any friends besides me,’* from escaping her lips.
She was just that kind and considerate of a music student.
“Let’s say there’s a guy who shows up out of nowhere to save you whenever you’re in danger, takes care of you, and even meets you privately to share secrets.”
“That’s a very specific hypothetical…”
“Doesn’t that mean the guy likes my friend? Could there be any other reason?”
Maximilian was, for all intents and purposes, a vegetable. Politically and economically, that is. It was the same reason why someone missing for four years would be legally declared dead in the Republic of Korea.
Therefore, Isabelle was from an unofficially single-parent household. Since her mother was a commoner, she had no particular social or economic background aside from the goodwill provided by the Tyles court.
Yuri, a true orphan, would have beaten her chest in frustration if she heard this, but in any case, Isabelle truly believed it.
“Well… I suppose so?”
Yuri, who was genuinely poor, would have beaten her chest in frustration if she heard this, but from Esidis’s perspective, Isabelle belonged to an economically vulnerable class. (Isabelle had a two-story house with a yard.)
Esidis was the princess of a nation. She was Great King Einar’s eldest daughter and his most cherished child. She was rich enough that she wouldn’t feel a thing even if she bashed a bandit’s head in with an instrument worth the price of a house.
Thus, their conversation showed a strange meeting of the minds.
—Honestly, there’s nothing to gain by approaching Isabelle. So isn’t it safe to assume he’s trying to woo her?
When they reached this conclusion, Isabelle beat her chest in frustration.
“Then why does he say no every time I ask him to eat with me!”
“We’re still talking about your friend, right?”
“No, listen. She’s ten years younger, pretty, kind, does well in her studies and practicals, and is even resourceful. If he likes her, why is he pushing her away?”
“He must really cherish that friend as if she were himself…”
Usually, when faced with an incomprehensible outcome, people begin to interpret the situation in a way that aligns with what they want to believe.
Confirmation bias is a scary thing.
In the end, Esidis nodded her head.
“I’ll look into it for you. As it happens, my uncle said he’s close with that man. You never know. He might be a huge playboy who goes around seducing everyone.”
Was it that serious? Isabelle calmly pictured Ivan’s face and fell into thought. A playboy…? Seducing women left and right…?
Hmm. If you cover the lower half of his face, it’s plausible… Could it be? Yes, it seems likely.
Isabelle was thrown into confusion!
Sadly, Yuri, who could have properly restrained them, was currently lying in the theology department’s infirmary. Thus, there was no one here to explain that the Mad Axe John Wick would rather kill ten more people in the time it took to meet one woman.
*
Ivan’s days were busy. He ran the orphanage, went to the university to tend to the trees, guarded the Hero’s children, and only after organizing the day’s reports and the orphanage’s ledger could he take a break.
His break usually consisted of maintaining his weapons. He would sharpen his axe blade to the point where it could silently slice through a piece of fluff, disassemble and clean his firearms, oil them, then lean back on the sofa and close his eyes for a moment.
That was Ivan’s day.
The important point was that this was now in the past tense. For several days since the field training terrorist incident, Enrique had been occupying his precious sanctuary and staging a sit-in.
“Enrique. It’s time for you to go home.”
“What are you talking about? I made a promise. The night watch, remember? Are you abandoning your watch buddy? Where’s the camaraderie?”
“…Aren’t you just trying to skip work?”
“Your master is sad. The young Ivan used to believe everything I said. Give me my Ivan back.”
Enrique had been holed up in the orphanage director’s office ever since the incident, refusing to leave.
As the one who had gotten some fifty children of nobles caught up in a terrorist attack, people from all corners were grinding their teeth and searching for her.
“I’ve been wronged. I mean, how was I supposed to know? If there’s some bastard who predicted that dwarves would suddenly attack, we need to catch him and torture him. He’s a mole.”
“I see.”
Ivan, who had just been branded a demonic mole, simply nodded without a word.
“It’s true! And, huh? Everyone’s just trying to push the blame onto me because they don’t want to take responsibility. So immature.”
Those weren’t words for an adult who was shirking responsibility to say.
Ivan thought that even if he lived for over a century, he never wanted to grow old like that.
“So, what I’m saying is, hmm. How about I take full responsibility and offer my resignation? The more I think about it, the more I feel I’ve worked too hard. Isn’t it about time I got some rest? That’s what I’ve been thinking.”
“Hmm.”
“Maybe I’ll go on a trip? How about the sea? I don’t like mountains.”
“Why does it sound like I’m going with you?”
“Because you are?”
Ivan was a practical man and had no intention of indulging the whims of a century-old woman.
He took Enrique’s teacup and said:
“The faculty can’t hold you responsible for this anyway. It was, quite literally, an accident.”
“R-Right?”
“Yes. The responsibility lies with the Counter-Intelligence Command in the first place. Isn’t it their job to prevent infiltration by hostile forces?”
“You’re not… wrong!”
Enrique clapped her hands and stood up. It was unlikely she hadn’t realized something so simple, so it seemed she had just wanted some comfort.
Ivan knew how to respect his elders. Unlike this barbaric world, the Republic of Korea had established ethics, morals, social norms, and the Confucian value of respecting elders. (This is debatable.)
He was just that polite of a person.
“So go home now. I have a lot to do.”
“Oh, is that so? I am so, so sorry for taking up our busy student’s precious time!”
“Of course.”
The Saint Vasilisa Orphanage was his masterpiece, created by pouring in all the connections and assets he had cultivated over a lifetime.
Having no plans to turn it into a nursing home for an old vampire, Ivan kicked the deeply hurt-looking Enrique out of his office.
“Oh, right. I wasn’t kidding about the sea. Since it’s come to this, I was thinking of doing another field trip or something! The royal court was actually hinting at it.”
“The royal court?”
“That’s right. You know how Krasilov’s tourism industry is a bit lacking. The university students are all from high noble families and will hold important positions one day. I guess they want to do some early promotion. It’s a national project, in a way!”
“…It would be better to call it off.”
He understood the intention, but it was a very foolish choice.
Because academy group tours are bound to run into some terrible crisis.
If it was the sea, strange creatures like fishmen or a kraken might pop out of nowhere without any narrative justification.
But Ivan was a practical man. He had no desire to be treated like a demonic mole or a prophet, so he had enough sense not to force his ‘common sense’ on others.
He gave Enrique a perfunctory farewell, then sat down and let out a deep sigh.
Finally, some peace and quiet.
For his mental and emotional stability, he took out his axe and began to wipe it down lovingly with an oiled cloth.
*
While Ivan was enjoying some quality time with his beloved axe, Esidis was secretly meeting her uncle, who was volunteering at the orphanage, to acquire intelligence.
‘He spent three days in the same room as Professor Enrique…?!’
Esidis didn’t have the heart to deliver this shocking information to her old friend. Professor Enrique was her father’s friend, a member of the Hero’s Party!
Esidis remembered what she was like. At the university, she acted like a prim and proper professor, but her true nature was that of a vampire.
Back in her active days, the number of soldiers who fell for her could fill an entire front line. A bewitching beauty of demonic charm, Esidis had secretly admired the Enrique of that era….
To be honest, the moment she was compared to Enrique, Isabelle’s chances were slim to none. Aside from being younger, how could she possibly win against a hero from the Hero’s Party?
Esidis sniffled, thinking of her friend’s sad love.
Her pure heart had crumbled amidst the sordid love games of adults (it wasn’t that).
‘Bella must not find out…’
Esidis wasn’t bold enough to calmly confess that the man who had been actively pursuing her friend (he hadn’t) was actually a terrible playboy (it’s a misunderstanding) who was in a regular physical relationship with a university professor (he wasn’t).
She clutched Squeaky the Third (violin, one month old) tightly and made a vow.
She would deal with that man herself.
A warrior of Droan does not hesitate to bloody their hands for their friends and brethren.
And she was the greatest warrior of Droan, the daughter of Great King Einar. She firmly resolved to become a righteous warrior, sworn to punish the vile villain, staking her father’s honor on it.
*