Master and Disciple
Master and Disciple
It had been a move calculated to uphold the ban on knightly cosplay imposed by Asilie, but Eldmia had overlooked a great deal.
To call it a complacent judgment... was a bit ambiguous. Because it had been a sufficiently rational and sensible judgment.
The rumors swirling around the Guillotine of Levien and the Adventurer Guillotine were uniformly grim tales. The nickname itself was an execution device, so it was only natural it would be grim—if it wasn't, something would be seriously twisted. More than anything, the biggest issue, the fact that Envelde and every one of his rebel faction had lost their heads, sent the grimness to its absolute peak.
The reaction of sensible people was to keep their distance from anyone with such rumors attached.
Even if one wanted to get close, a tiny bit of digging would reveal that the royal family's favor and the Noble Council alike treated him like a passing stray dog, so extreme caution was mandatory. Anyone choosing a different option was, from that point on, already abnormal. A lunatic who, given the right circumstances, would cut throats without a second thought was not someone to be taken lightly.
That had been a truly rational judgment up to that point, but Eldmia had overlooked the fact that this was an academy and the age of the students surrounding him.
Fifteen years old. Most no older than seventeen. The second-years, where only Kalits, at eighteen, stood as the unrivaled elder.
If Eldmia had known beforehand that eighth-grade syndrome wasn't something only seen in modern society, he would have treated them with at least a little knightly dignity, even if it made Asilie sulk. But there had been too many people around him who were mature for their age. He'd forgotten just how irrational fifteen-year-olds could be, to the point he'd almost thought it was just the average for this other world.
The result was that the image Eldmia had shown set fire to the hearts of countless male and female students.
Naturally, if someone whose skills were unknown or who looked pathetic had said it, it would have been met with ridicule, but in the end, it was his appearance and clothes that provided the plausibility.
"So that... is the dignity of the Guillotine...?"
"Th-there were rumors he was active at the Imperial Academy too, weren't there?"
"Wait, so all the rumors about the Guillotine are true? Is he even human?"
"From today on, I'll be the Guillotine of the Royal Academy!"
"Don't talk shit. So did you put your grades on the guillotine and get them chopped?"
"Just for today, I'll be the gallows!"
Contrary to his purpose of extinguishing the fire with the pressure of a life-threatening presence, the students, who had no intention of being hostile to Eldmia in the first place, were blinded by the firmness and action he had displayed, and were busy pouring oil on it themselves. Some out of curiosity, some out of competitive spirit, and others mixed with all sorts of expectations and desires, they had begun inventing even new rumors beyond those already spread through the academy. If Eldmia had witnessed that chaotic party himself, he would have wanted to make sweeping revisions to his future course of action.
Only the sullen Kalits, Sheryl heaving sighs at the frantic spectacle, and Griwills, wearing an odd smile, remained calm and showed reactions distinct from the rest.
"He was an interesting person."
At Griwills' words, the sulking Kalits raised an objection.
"He didn't really show anything particularly interesting."
"Why are you so serious? You weren't exactly insulted."
"...Wasn't I?"
From Kalits' perspective, he hadn't been outright cursed to his face, but he'd interpreted Eldmia's words as a heavily veiled 'get lost,' and thus found Griwills' words hard to understand. It wasn't a wrong interpretation, but Griwills, without malice, had no intention of letting one of the few card-like people who could follow Eldmia around and spread information fall away on his own.
"He's Professor Regneva's disciple and came as a teaching assistant, and saying he won't spar with just anyone means that, ultimately, if it's related to class, he will spar depending on the situation, right? His words were a bit cold, but don't you think he was just drawing a line between public and private?"
"...Is... that so?"
"His last words were like that, too. Don't get swept up in rumors, focus on your studies. It's advice, and at the same time, isn't he telling you to listen well to Professor Regneva's class?"
Sheryl, who had roughly pieced together the situation despite arriving late, thanks to the students gathered everywhere talking, stared at Griwills with a rare expression of disbelief.
This guy was trying to wrap that dumb bear around his finger. And sure enough, after hearing a new perspective, the simple Kalits' face brightened.
"Now that I hear it, it does seem that way! As expected of Griwills! That's an eye-opener!"
But Sheryl didn't bother to step in and correct his misconception. Not so much because she had ill feelings toward Kalits, but because she knew that as long as he approached with good intentions, he wouldn't suffer any harm from Eldmia. It had been the same at the family estate. There had been over ten servants older than Eldmia at Ogatorf Manor. Fortunately, none had character issues, so they readily acknowledged Eldmia's skill and wanted to train with him, and Eldmia, though intensely annoyed, hadn't been able to treat them harshly.
"What use is the hope of the Swordsmanship Department if he wilts so easily over something like this?"
"You're right! I must have been unknowingly cowed by Sir Ega's presence! I'll register for the course right away!"
You crazy bastard, you can't even use magic—the words rose to the back of her throat, but Sheryl held them back this time too. The truth was, Kalits zealously demanding sparring wasn't bad for her either. Once word spread that an outstanding talent from the Swordsmanship Department was even joining a magic class he'd never otherwise use, seeking sparring and teaching from the teaching assistant, the academy would take some kind of measure, so she decided to ride along for this occasion.
"But is he really that strong? I barely felt any aura from him."
"If he weren't strong, would Envelde be dead?"
She had reacted without thinking to the words Griwills uttered. Less a snap because she felt he was disrespecting Eldmia, and more to prevent any foolish ideas from leading to bloodshed. She looked at him, just in case, but fortunately, only puzzlement bloomed on Griwills' face, which always seemed full of hidden schemes.
"Ah, of course, I don't mean to dismiss his achievements. Setting aside the aura, I was a bit intimidated myself. It's just... the atmosphere was a bit quite different from what I'd imagined, so I got curious."
"Atmosphere?"
"Something more... direct. I mean, I thought he'd go around emanating an oppressive presence, like one of the Ten Swords."
At the response that even seemed to contain a faint hint of bewilderment, Sheryl, her pickled-radish eyebrows twitching, felt she was getting tangled in Griwills' rhetoric, swallowed the question that had risen to her throat, and moved away. He was a snake-like man with cunning speech befitting a merchant family. His looks, his unique fighting style, everything from one to ten felt like he had ulterior motives, rousing an unwarranted sense of defiance in her.
"Hey, why are you rushing off alone again? You're taking the trial lesson too, anyway. Let's go together?"
"You're free to follow, but I have no intention of going together."
That was why Sheryl maintained a cold attitude as she walked away. Kalits, having perked up, watched her retreating figure for a moment before laughing heartily and saying,
"Ha ha ha! Don't you think Sheryl and Sir Ega have similar personalities, more than I thought?"
"...Hm. Now that you mention it, they do."
Agreeing lightly with that opinion, Griwills followed after Sheryl with Kalits.
◈
"That's what happened."
After arriving at the professor's office, meeting my teacher, listening to a brief outline of the lesson, packing up the materials, and then tidying the lecture hall spotlessly, I recounted to my teacher the series of events that had happened since entering the academy, with 30 minutes left until class.
Why suddenly bring that up, you ask? Because my teacher, struck with heavy suspicion upon seeing the second-year students packed into every seat of the lecture hall already, asked me if I had done something.
"...Surely they didn't all show up because of that?"
"Oh, come on, that can't be it."
They're not perverts who want to get cursed out, so to be so enthused by that kind of reaction that they'd come—unless they were crazy, it was nonsense.
"It's probably because your class is Understanding Magic and Practical Application. They're at that age where they want to test their skills, aren't they?"
"Is... that so? But it's still too many, even for that. There seem to be a lot of Swordsmanship Department students who don't even learn magic..."
"Isn't that the point of trial lessons? I probably would have checked it out myself, curious if there was anything to learn."
"True... When I was at the academy, I tried my best to find time to attend many classes, too."
As befitting someone who'd reached the position of Court Mage, his academic fervor must have been immense. My teacher nodded as if finally convinced, but a strange bewilderment still lingered.
He'd mentioned that other faculty members had advised him there might be few students, but not to worry about it. He must have been momentarily taken aback by the massive gap between that advice and reality. My teacher soon composed himself and began reviewing the lecture materials one last time.
But contrary to his eyes scanning the documents, what came out of his mouth was a story related to me.
"Now that I think of it, a few professors from the Swordsmanship Department were asking if they could get your help."
"My help? The only thing I could help with over there would be beating up kids."
In the first place, I hadn't lived my life thinking of teaching anyone, nor did I have the ability to easily break down and explain what I'd learned so others could understand. So, in the end, the only thing I could do was spar and use the kids as sandbags. I didn't think that was the kind of help they'd want...
"Ha ha, that's precisely what they're asking for. Your achievements are, after all, famous in many ways. They're asking if you can serve as a safe, live training dummy."
...and yet it was. Real combat was important, I supposed. Still, the idea of volunteering my time for others for free when I was busy was a little...
"It's not mandatory, but they said they'd like your help, even at a fair price. None of them seemed to mean any harm, so think about it. It's not like you're exactly busy until your Magic Organ is complete, anyway."
"I'll meet with them later."
Academy professors really were different. As educated people, they sure knew what it took to move someone.