Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 75
>Chapter Title: The Commonsense of Academy Festivals (5)
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*
The Royal Guard was one of Krasilov's most elite military branches. Though there were eras when it was little more than an honorary position, the time of war was not one of them.
During the Demon War, the King of Krasilov was almost always required to be on the front lines himself. To restore the royal authority tarnished by successive defeats, battlefield command and tangible military strength were essential.
Of course, the king of that era was a man who would have gone to the front lines even without such reasons.
In any case, the Royal Guard was a unit constantly forced into the front lines, and to protect the king's life, they needed to be the absolute best in loyalty, patriotism, and skill.
As a result, they were regarded as the branch that gathered the nation's finest only to grind them down in the most horrific ways. This held true for the roughly five years from when the king had to take to the front lines until the Hero slew the Demon King.
"Senior…"
Ivan stared at the note with a stunned expression and muttered to himself.
The scribble, which looked like a few lines of meaningless numbers, actually signified the tactical symbols of a bygone era, no longer in use.
Specifically, it was the random number cipher system used for command and control by the Royal Guard.
The content of the coded message was as follows:
-Novagorod Withdrawal Operation.
>-Code 00 KIA. Total friendly losses: 23.
>-Code 01, Code 11 survived.
>-Survivor rendezvous point: Fritzenkaya, University, in front of Code 00's statue.
The Novagorod Withdrawal Operation referred to the campaign where the former king had refused to retreat, choosing instead to defend their position.
At the time, Krasilov had failed to predict the demons' buildup due to an intelligence failure. One of the Seven Dragon Generals, Tumoru the Scorched, who should have been drawn to the eastern front, personally led his forces into battle there.
The allied kingdoms' operational doctrine at the time was simple: if a Dragon General appeared, abandon that front. Fight a delaying action while aiming for minor victories on other fronts to induce the enemy's retreat.
The Seven Dragon Generals were calamities that humans could not face. It was unavoidable.
The problem was that Krasilov, having failed to detect the Dragon General's movement in advance, was not prepared for a withdrawal from that sector.
Countless civilian homes, conscripted soldiers unprepared for retreat—the state had to save them to preserve its own existence. Especially in an era where every single soldier was becoming a rarity.
The king had a grown son and grandchildren who had inherited the royal talent. In other words, he was replaceable personnel. But if the soldiers were annihilated, it would be a different story. If the northern front collapsed, Fritzenkaya would be next.
Krasilov's name could have been added to the list of the five fallen kingdoms.
So the former king made a choice. The most rational choice, with a smile.
He announced his presence, provoked the Dragon General, and offered himself up as what the demon commander would consider the 'most tempting tactical objective.'
The king's delaying tactic saved tens of thousands of citizens and soldiers that day.
The Royal Guard perished with their king. Aside from Ivan and a few other soldiers, there were no survivors from that day. There shouldn't have been.
-Rustle.
Ivan fiddled with the note, lost in thought. In the Guard's random number cipher, Code 00 was the former king's codename. Code 01 was…
‘The Guard Captain.’
Pavel Sergeyevich Olov, the Dragonslayer.
"Um… Mister?"
Isabelle, her face pale, tapped his arm. When Ivan's gaze fell on her, she flinched and forced a smile.
"Uh… he's going to die."
>"Ah."
Only then did he see the student sputtering in his grip. A student who knew nothing, who had only delivered a note, who had been in the middle of enjoying the festival.
Ivan quietly released his grip, set the student down, and gave a short bow.
"My apologies. I was out of line."
>"N-No, it's fine! Yes, yes, I-I'll be on my way then!"
>"Mm."
The student fled, trembling. Isabelle, who had been watching Ivan with worried eyes, cautiously approached and asked.
"Is it something urgent?"
>"My apologies."
Strictly speaking, this was a dereliction of duty. His sole mission was to protect the children of the Hero's Party.
To be swayed by a suspicious note left by a survivor from the past, one thought to be dead, could be described as falling for an enemy ploy.
But… but.
Ivan remembered Pavel the Dragonslayer. The Guard Captain, the most loyal of the royal knights. The man who, surprisingly for someone of his time, had guided and led him without prejudice against his status or age.
He had never been nostalgic for the war. The enemy had been too horrific for him to miss those days.
But the heroes who had run alongside him in that era, the men with whom he had fought back-to-back, shedding the same blood…
They said, *do not mourn*… so he did not mourn. It was a perilous time when he could have joined them at any moment. He could rejoice in a reunion in the afterlife, but he did not mourn the dead in the land of the living.
That unresolved feeling lingered in a corner of his heart. Like a small thorn, it pricked and pricked at his mind.
Ivan bit his lip, briefly collecting his thoughts.
"Mister, if it's urgent, you should go."
>"But…"
Ivan turned his gaze to the others watching him. He saw Esidis with an anxious expression and Elfihera looking at him with a complicated mix of emotions.
Protecting them was his duty.
And going to find a comrade he thought was dead… was a desire.
He had never hesitated between duty and desire before.
"What's with that look, as if I'm the one holding you back."
>"Elfihera."
>"Yes, yes, it's Elfihera. I'm an elf, a mage, and I'm powerful. Honestly, you didn't actually believe all that talk about needing protection and requesting an escort, did you?"
Elfihera sighed heavily. *Ah, I was pushed back all morning, and now it was finally my turn this afternoon.*
"Go. Having you around with that look on your face will only make me feel guilty. Did you really think a human could protect an elf? How many elves are here? To think you'd worry about that. Goodness."
>"She's right, Uncle. I'm fine! Oh, and thank you all for this! It was delicious!"
>"I don't think you had a single bite…"
>"Ahem. We promised not to worry about things like that. Right?"
Ivan gave the chattering Esidis a grateful nod and rose from his seat.
"Get it sorted out. And if you can, come back and explain things."
>"Mm."
Since he was abandoning his protection detail, explaining the reason to his charges was a matter of course. Ivan gave Isabelle a short nod and stood up.
The rendezvous point. Fritzenkaya, the university, in front of Code 00's statue.
At Saint Yansk University, the former king's statue stood in the center of the plaza just inside the main gate. In the most crowded spot.
Indeed, if you want to hide a tree, you hide it in a forest. If you want to hide a person, you do it in a place like this. Most government agents don't meet in secluded areas.
With heavy steps, Ivan headed for the plaza.
*
"Teach me how to make this."
>"Um, Miss Isabelle? Did you… like it that much?"
>"No. Frankly, it's garbage, but the Mister cried after eating it. He'll like it if I make it properly for him."
>"…But this *is* made properly…"
>"How can something like that be food…?"
If you boil kimchi in water, you get kimchi jjigae. (No, you don't.)
After hearing the simple recipe, Isabelle's assessment of the trio at this booth dropped slightly.
*
Arriving at the statue, Ivan spotted Pavel at a glance.
A suspicious man in a thick robe was looking up at the stone figure. In the first place, with the plaza swarming with Counter-Intelligence Command agents, there was no way someone in such a suspicious outfit could have entered.
Besides, he already knew that build and physique. As a trained agent, Ivan was skilled at deducing a person's identity from their body shape and aura.
That back was unforgettable.
"Senior."
>"Ah, you've come."
The man spun around. Only then could Ivan see his face.
Shaggy brown hair and, nestled within it, piercing green eyes.
An old, deep scar ran across one eye down to his cheek.
And the black burn mark, said to have been received while hunting a dragon, stretched from his lower jaw to his neck.
"I heard you were killed in action."
>"Did you confirm the body?"
>"No. At the time, no one… but…"
>"It was a joke. You're still as stiff as ever. Perhaps even more so."
Pavel smiled gently, approached, and extended a hand. It felt like a hand offered by the dead, and Ivan stared at the gesture for a long moment before he could associate it with a handshake.
The hand he grasped was firm. As if still in its prime.
"I wasn't the only one thought to be dead. Aren't we more useful when we're officially listed as casualties?"
>"Was it a royal command?"
>"Perhaps."
Seeing Pavel's smile, Ivan frowned. Had the princess deceived him? He was certain he had been told that he was the sole survivor of the Royal Guard.
There was no reason to lie about this. Even if Pavel were being used as an undercover agent, the princess could have shared that information with him.
Especially since she had watched him suffer so much after that day.
Perhaps sensing his complex feelings, Pavel patted his shoulder and said.
"It suits you. Did you start growing it to follow His Majesty?"
>"Embarrassingly… yes."
>"It looks good. You've grown it almost the same."
>"Yes, Senior."
This was how normal people thought. Ivan was quite impressed to finally be having a conversation with a normal person of this era.
"I will escort you to a more comfortable place. Let's go."
>"Ah, my apologies. I'm in the middle of an operation."
>"Yes…? Ah, you've been active?"
>"Ever since that day, I've been on the move. Same as you, isn't it?"
Ivan hesitated for a moment.
A trained agent can deduce many things from a short conversation. Understanding double meanings and subtle implications was a basic skill.
*Can't move because you're on a mission?*
*But you sent me a coded message to summon me here?*
*Then, summoning me to this very spot was part of the operation… that's one way to read it.*
"Senior."
>"Ah, dear. Did I underestimate you? My mistake."
Pavel smiled faintly. A trained agent can grasp implications from a short conversation.
Pavel, too, noticed the change in Ivan's tone and shook his head with a smile.
"In all this time, the boy has grown into a man. My apologies."
>"Senior."
>"Don't move. There are a lot of people, aren't there?"
A threat made using the crowd.
He probably didn't mean he would slaughter the people himself. Ivan, standing right in front of him, was capable enough to stop that.
So, this meant… there was a weapon capable of mass destruction. And it was in the hands of an accomplice nearby.
Ivan let out a short sigh.
He reflected on his mistake.
Choosing desire over duty was always such a foolish thing to do.
And doubting the 'commonsense' of the academy genre was just as pathetic.
A combat event happening during a festival was commonsense, wasn't it? The food from his hometown (not really) and the appearance of an old comrade had made him complacent.
Never again. Ivan was a rational man; he would not make the same mistake twice.
"Where does your allegiance lie?"
>"Haha, little Ivan. To ask that in this situation. Are you still senselessly devoting your life to the meaningless crown?"
>"Still?"
Ivan stared into Pavel's eyes as he brought a hand behind his back.
He had no axe. Only a small dagger and a pistol.
But a lack of armament was no reason to avoid a fight.
"You should have said 'forever.' Didn't we all swear the same oath on the same day?"
>"Ivan. Stop this pointless act."
>"Get down."
Ivan's eyes, which had been briefly closed, snapped open as he snarled.
At Pavel, who still stood before the former king's statue.
"That is not a place you have any right to stand."
*