Guest Professor (1)
Rewinding now to a moment ago — the morning, three days after training with Yeonhwa had ended.
"I'm heading out, Mokhyang."
"Yes, my lord. Please take care of yourself."
"What about me? Don't I get a goodbye?"
"...Have a safe trip."
"Sheesh. So stiff."
With Mokhyang seeing us off, we headed out to take the Rank Assessment Exam.
How long had we been walking? As we passed the mouth of the Backstreets, Yeonhwa pulled something out and flicked her hand at me.
"You go on ahead."
"Why all of a sudden?"
"...This."
What Yeonhwa held out was a black stone. I identified it at a glance.
"A communication magic stone. You've got orders."
Yeonhwa nodded and pointed to a translucent patch where text had surfaced. The sender displayed there was—
"Number Five...?"
The Six Apostles of the Evil God. The 5th Apostle, among them.
If my memory served, she shouldn't have set foot in the Marcia Empire at this point in the story. So how did she get a message through?
I asked as naturally as I could.
"Didn't Number Five get dispatched to the East?"
"What are you talking about? She's been back for ages."
"Back? Since when?"
"Ugh, it's been a week already."
Yeonhwa snorted and kept talking as she worked the communication magic stone.
"Anyway, you be careful too. Four of the Six Apostles are gathered now. I won't know what the orders are until I get there, but they didn't call me just to say hello."
"Alright. Thanks for the heads-up, Yeonhwa."
"I'll find a way to pass the orders along once I check them. See you at Zion later."
After Yeonhwa left, I set off to meet Yuria, just as I'd promised her the other day.
Yuria. The forgotten illegitimate child of the Marcia Imperial Family, and the adopted granddaughter of Ian, the current ruler of the Backstreets.
"Yuria, let this old man have a turn with the mirror, would you?"
"Oh, come on! I'm busy, so wait! You can look later, Grandpa!!"
"Ah... Right. Sorry for rushing you."
She was putting on as much of a look as she could manage, for the first time in a very long while. All that amounted to was a light dusting of color on her lips and a few experimental hairstyles, and yet—
"There, done!"
—she was several times more beautiful than usual.
"Okay, Grandpa, your turn!"
Ian, who had been waiting his turn in silence, approached with both arms spread the way he always did.
"Heh heh, Yuria. You're looking especially beauti—"
"I'm heading out!"
"......Right."
The reason Yuria skipped even the hug that had been a mandatory part of their routine, and bolted out the door, was a single man — the only one who could put that flush in her cheeks.
"He should be here by now, right?"
She had run hard enough to undo the hair she'd so carefully styled, and now she was smoothing it back into place. He had no idea how long she'd been waiting.
Ever since Eugene had saved her, Yuria had replayed that night in her mind — the moment she and the Backstreets had been delivered. The dark warehouse choking with dust. Hands bound, unable to move. The agony wracking every inch of her body. She had been enduring it all alone when he found her like a miracle and reached out his hand.
"So. Feeling a little happier now?"
In the end, he had given her a perfect salvation. And the way Eugene had looked in that moment was truly—
"Keh-keh. Yu-ri-a. Hel-lo?"
"Hiiiek!!"
The recollection snapped. Yuria recoiled on instinct, her whole body shuddering at the grotesque voice. A beat later, she identified its owner.
"Hey, Yuria."
The man she had been craning her neck to see for days on end was greeting her just as he always had.
"Eugene...!!"
A huge grin broke across Yuria's face before she even knew it, and she threw herself at him.
"Have you been well?! How could you not visit even once?!"
"Sorry. I was going to come, but I've been swamped."
"Swamped with what?"
"Mm. A bit of grave-robbing, smashed some coffins, smashed some people. You know. That kind of thing."
"Uh...?"
Yuria's pupils wavered. Then she sorted it out in her head — Well, it is Eugene — and they started walking, the conversation falling into an easy rhythm.
"So? What do you think?"
"Of what?"
"The neighborhood. It's a completely different place from before. Figured you hadn't noticed."
"Oh. You're right."
The shantytown where Yuria and Ian lived. She had been in such a rush not to be late that she hadn't registered it, but now that she looked, it was a different world. This had been a place of cheap stacked brick and scrap-wood roofs — or no roofs at all, just tents. People had sprawled on the dirt and chewed tree bark and grass to stay alive. And now—
"Those are actual houses."
"Yeah. Actual houses."
New homes were going up. The entire shantytown was under construction, so there were still stretches that looked the way they used to, but watching the people work, it seemed the whole thing would be finished before long.
"Hey, pick up the pace!"
"When's that bastard who went for the bricks getting back?!"
"Get over here, you little shit, this is how you dig a—"
Eugene let out a quiet laugh and muttered under his breath.
"Good."
Most of the faces were bright. It felt like it might help, even a little, toward the ending. Eugene wished for it with everything he had.
"...I hope everyone gets to be happy."
And he hoped, just as fiercely, that every last incident would be resolved soon — that they would reach a happy ending. Because only then would he get to live a happy life as a graduate of prestigious Zion, and as the owner of Star Inn.
Keh-keh-keh.
Just thinking about it pulled a smile onto his face all by itself.
Yuria watched him and thought, How is he that good all the way through? He was smiling at the Backstreets people being happy. That had to be it.
"Keh-keh. Keh-keh, keh."
Eugene was, as advertised, smiling happily.
"Mom, that guy's weird."
"Honestly, speaking that quietly, you think he'll hear you?"
"THAT GUY'S WEIRD!!!!"
"That's more like it!"
Even putting it generously, it was hard to call that a pretty smile. Yeonhwa's madness had rubbed off on the laugh. And yet, to Yuria, it looked a little different.
...Cute.
Yuria. Twenty this year, a girl born and raised in the poorest shantytown in the Backstreets. She had never loved anyone — she'd been too busy just surviving. He really is so cool. She had no idea she was possessed.
And at that same hour, someone else who had lived only for training and for her house came toward them, waving.
"Ah, Eugene!"
At last. I get to see him. Eugene!
Ever since Eugene had saved her family and herself, Rania Vulcanus had replayed that moment in her mind every night — the moment he had saved her. Haviel's cold expression. The agony blooming through her entire body. The ground she had still been standing on. She had been crushed beneath a vast malice, her life slipping away, when Eugene appeared before her.
"Rania really is the protagonist. The wonderful protagonist who saved my life."
He had saved her completely. And the way Eugene had looked in that moment was truly— He had looked just like the knights I'd always admired.
Afterward he had even arranged her contract with the Fire Spirit King, then left as if nothing at all had happened. Without so much as taking credit, no less.
The righteous chivalry that anyone who dreamed of knighthood ought to possess — Eugene had it. And so Rania had glimpsed in him a knight from a fairy tale, and she had resolved to become even a little more like him.
Skipping this morning's training. Putting on what little of a look she could manage. Even asking Agni for advice. All of it had been for this very moment.
Rania smiled brightly and asked,
"There are yet a full thirty minutes remaining. Why, then, have you arrived so early?"
"I headed over the second dawn training wrapped, so I got here a bit early. What about you, Rania? Why are you thirty minutes early?"
"I-I am much the same, as it happens."
The two of them were trading the correct answers when Yuria, her expression swapped out in an instant, stepped in with a slightly colder air.
"Oh my. Lady Rania. What a coincidence, running into you before we've even started."
"Quite so."
Perhaps because of what had happened at the entrance exam, Yuria was on her guard. Then again, so was Rania.
"Then go on ahead, if you would. I have an arrangement to accompany Eugene."
Still courteous, still impeccably polite — and still hoping the other would simply go her own way.
"Is that so? I believe I had the prior engagement."
"I made my arrangement four days ago, I'll have you know."
"How unfortunate. Mine was a week ago."
"A week...?"
Neither of them yielding an inch, they turned their eyes on Eugene at the same time—
"Let's go."
"Ugh, a turn signal, please."
—as Vivian, who had appeared out of nowhere, grabbed Eugene's hand and strode off.
"M-Master!!"
"Wh— huh?"
Rania hurried after them at once, and Yuria, who had just heard something well worth being shocked about, scrambled after them too.
"Master?!"
Immediately after Tyrant Vivian made her entrance.
"Master? Don't tell me you took Lady Vivian as your master?"
"That is rather a long story, but to put it simply — that day, Eugene..."
Yuria and Rania, who had been circling each other a moment before, fell into whispers and trailed after them. In a way, it was a relief.
"Can't you two just be friends?"
"Sorry, Eugene. What exactly am I supposed to trust about nobles enough to be friends with them?"
"I say, Eugene. This one left you lying there without so much as lifting a finger when you collapsed."
They hadn't even pretended to hear my mediation. And then—
"Allow me to introduce myself properly. Eldest daughter of House Vulcanus. Rania Vulcanus."
"I'm Yuria. No family name."
One word from Vivian, and they were friends. Which meant that behind us, the two of them were having a conversation like this:
"At any rate, that makes me Eugene's first friend."
"Nay. I cannot agree with that. I have been his friend since before we even enrolled."
While up front, Vivian and I were having a conversation like this:
"The armaments were quality stuff. Learned a lot."
"Don't tell me you took them apart."
"Of course not. I just smashed them."
"Wow. You're terrifying. How do you just smash someone else's family heirlooms?"
"You're one to talk. Who even thinks to pry open a coffin to check? Are you even human?"
"So why did you come?"
"You told me to be her master."
"And that means what, exactly?"
"If I'm gonna teach, I need to be nearby."
Flat. Blunt. Not a shred of give in it.
"You like her, then."
"...Not bad."
That alone was enough to tell me how much Vivian had come to care for Rania. Who'd have thought that immovable, do-as-she-pleases tyrant would get this socialized. Honestly, I was proud of her.
I picked a bit of dust off Vivian's clothes and asked,
"So you're walking us to school, then?"
"No. I'm sticking around."
Was it just me? An ominous feeling washed over me for a second.
"Don't tell me you're planning to follow us all the way to Zion."
Vivian nodded. I asked again.
"W-wait a second. To do what? You're going there to keep teaching Rania?"
This time Vivian shook her head. She thought for a moment, then answered short.
"Got hired. Guest professor."
"I'm sorry?"
Hired as what, all of a sudden? I was still turning that over when Vivian added,
"And Leopold said to bring you."
"I'm sorry? Why me?"
"Said he'd tell you when you get there."
It was right before the entrance exam. If I wanted to confirm the results of all that training, even I needed time to get my head on straight. I was about to refuse when—
"He said if you don't come, tell you this. When your superior says jump, you jump. Don't like it, get out."
"This guy is a total piece of trash."
"He said to give you this instead."
Clink.
A heavy sack landed in my hands. It was all gold coins.
"Allow me to compose a thirteen-line acrostic."
"T."
"This guy is a total piece of trash."
"?"
Not that I had a choice. He was, quite literally, my superior — and I was a sergeant who'd served out his full term in the army. Chain of command. Jump when told to jump. That DNA was soaked into my bones.
And besides.
"Hehngh. Ten million."
Paid this much, I'd go even if the devil himself was calling.
One. All freshmen shall be transported to an island belonging to Academy Zion.
Two. All shall join forces to attack the guest.
Three. All shall be evaluated by the guest.
Four. All shall submit.