16. The Worst Crisis
16. The Worst Crisis
On the way back.
The knight had accompanied the Chairwoman for barely ten minutes. Yet the advice and insights he received during that brief span felt less like ten minutes and more like a decade compressed into a single moment.
She hadn't set out to instruct him deliberately—there simply wasn't enough time—but he'd still picked up pointers on habits he didn't know he had, flaws in his sword swings, the optimal way to harness ki—
That modest enlightenment alone felt as if it had nudged open the door to the 6th Rank.
And that only made it more regretful.
"You returned sooner than I expected."
"Disappointed?"
"It's not my place to say to you, Finance Officer... but yes."
Of all the countless knights in the Kingdom, how many ever received the Chairwoman's counsel? A once-in-a-lifetime chance, and ten minutes felt agonizingly short. But the moment Finance Officer Marcus returned, the Chairwoman had departed without looking back. There was nothing to be said.
Besides, it seemed the financial audit hadn't even happened.
"...So you've decided to simply turn back? When you were nearly at the gates?"
"What do you mean? The financial audit was completed."
"Pardon? How is that—"
"The Chairwoman instructed me to speak with the person handling the actual work. So I met with Finance Director Adam, reviewed the financial statements, ledgers, and documents he had prepared, and that was that. I thought it would take days, but since he'd organized everything and brought it to me, it was over quickly."
"Ah... is that so?"
"Of course."
A question still lingered. If it had been that neatly organized, why hadn't they ultimately entered the academy? Was this rigid, straight-arrow Finance Officer Marcus really the type to forgo on-site verification?
But if the finance officer himself said so, it was awkward for a bodyguard knight who knew nothing about the audit to press the point. Finance Director Adam himself had come out, so perhaps financial types just understood each other.
Truthfully, the knight had steeled himself to stay for days helping out if they went inside, so heading straight back had its advantages. Staying at the academy wouldn't have won him any more of the Chairwoman's time anyway. Returning quickly to the royal court and training was the best course of action.
It was a good outcome. The knight rode on, turning over that gold-like advice in his mind as the great basin, the huts, and the academy shrank into the distance.
Unlike the knight, who had already turned his horse, Finance Officer Marcus was still gazing toward the academy.
"...He's a coincidence, a stroke of fortune, and more competent than either."
"Pardon?"
"The Finance Director I met today. He's a 1st Rank, the same as me."
"What? Truly?"
The knight knew all too well how 1st Ranks were treated. He could scarcely believe that the finance director of an enormous, prestigious academy was one.
And the look in Finance Officer Marcus's eyes was, how to put it—
Deeply regretful.
"Tch, if only it weren't for the Chairwoman, I'd have taken him with me..."
"...Are you serious?"
"In this harsh world, it's hard to find a fellow 1st Rank. His hands, especially, left an impression."
"His hands, you say?"
"The skin along his little finger was stained dark, and there were calluses between thumb and forefinger. Both hands, in fact."
What that signified was simple. Marcus's own hands bore similar marks.
Ordinary 1st Rank stamina, yet his hands had never stopped working a pen—ink seeped into skin, documents written without rest, calluses built from gripping a writing instrument far too long.
How a man that age, at that rank, held the post of Finance Director—it was instantly clear.
"Seeing how the Chairwoman called him her working-level man and trusted him with everything, he seems to have her favor. I suspect I'll be seeing his face regularly."
And furthermore.
He was also the person who had, today, turned Marcus's steps around—his lifesaver.
"If you ever find yourself trapped in a mine, trust whoever's beside you and follow their lead. No matter who they are."
"What's this all of a sudden...?"
"Advice born of experience. Remember it."
Marcus recalled being buried in that collapsing rock salt mine, despair closing in, until a man young enough to be his son—not even half his age—had guided them out.
Finance Officer Marcus let out a quiet laugh.
No matter how upright, how rigid, how thoroughly self-preserving a man might be—
He could not refuse a request from the person who had saved his life.
*
Was Rus a god?
"Please accept my bow."
"Wh-what's this about—!?"
"Just accept it, please."
Rus Spero—my debt. Rus Spero—my rock salt mine. Rus Spero—savior of my futures trading.
I simply worship you!
"Without Student Rus, things would've gotten truly difficult. Thank you, sincerely."
"I just..."
"They called you a lifesaver—how in the world did you meet Finance Officer Marcus?"
"Ah."
I was genuinely curious. How had they even met? Not in a suspicious way—pure curiosity.
The moment the protagonist enrolled at 6th Rank, everything I knew about the protagonist's path in <Dark Kingdom> became obsolete, but if I learned what she'd done before enrolling, I might understand why she'd gotten this strong.
The protagonist, flustered by my question for a moment, answered.
"...We met in a mine."
"A mine? Why would you be there?"
"I'd gone somewhere for certain reasons. It collapsed suddenly, and I was trapped with Marcus. But we managed to escape somehow."
"So that's why Finance Officer Marcus considers you his lifesaver."
What could Marcus, a 1st Rank, possibly have contributed? Age aside, between a 1st Rank and a 6th Rank, the protagonist must have led the escape.
He'd granted a lifesaver's request without hesitation. That might sound too easy, but put another way, had she not been his lifesaver, it would've been near impossible to bend that rigid character.
I'd probably have had to slice it apart with a dagger.
'Glad it worked out...'
Wait, hold on.
"Um, Finance Director? Why is your expression suddenly—"
"Just remembered something annoying. It's nothing."
"Is it?"
So was that bastard Kassandra's prophecy right after all? Everything I'd worked for was pointless, and thanks to the protagonist, it all resolved itself?
That left a funny taste. The kind of feeling where you really don't want to admit some junior's prophecy was correct.
...Hm?
"Now that I think about it, why did you come out here?"
"Pardon?"
"Earlier you said you were taking a walk, but normally people stroll inside the academy. Venturing outside is rare. And of all the countless places, why right here?"
"..."
"That's..."
At my words, the protagonist wore an ambiguous expression.
I drew my conclusion quickly.
"What an incredible coincidence!"
"...Excuse me?"
"What does it matter! It's resolved, and all is well! Thanks to Student Rus, the academy's finances weren't exposed anyway!"
It really didn't matter. Coincidence or not, so what? I'd already revealed to the protagonist that our finances were dangerous—albeit not in full—and she was the very person who'd fended off the audit.
She'd even coordinated her story with Finance Officer Marcus, so there'd be no further audits. And what did that mean?
'The real hardship is finally over.'
No one would know how we used the donations.
I didn't have to worry. The donations would be used strictly for the academy's reconstruction, after all.
Except it would be the financial situation getting reconstructed, not the buildings.
'The total donation amount this time is already substantial. If we can talk them into making even half of this a regular arrangement going forward...'
Even a third would be fine. Private academies normally operated this way—receiving donations to run an endowment fund. This place relying entirely on the Chairwoman's personal fortune had always been the anomaly.
It had been a huge gamble, but the staged terrorist attack ended safely, I'd acquired a Finance Department slave, and the donations were secured.
I no longer had to struggle day by day just to survive, like months ago. The money flowing in on its own was now considerable.
'Bribes and kickbacks, research revenue, donations from the Illusion Magic Department, and now the terror-attack donations on top...'
The one remaining issue was potential interference in academy affairs due to the donations, but since we'd already passed (?) the royal family's goodwill-audit (?), there wouldn't be much talk for a while. The stated purpose was post-terror reconstruction, so anyone trying to use that as leverage would be utterly heartless.
Nor were we one-sidedly indebted—most of the donors were Grandis Academy graduates or people with significant ties. Some might harbor ulterior motives, but with the royal family backing off from exerting influence, no one would openly bring it up.
'More importantly, there were reports of suspicious movements in the Delphia Kingdom, weren't there?'
Ordinarily, what happened in a foreign nation didn't matter to me, but things had changed.
If I wanted to keep receiving money steadily from Crown Prince Zeke, trouble couldn't break out in the Delphia Kingdom. What if the crown prince fell from power?
And I had to keep Beatrice tied to the academy as promised. For now, the royal family was wary of the Chairwoman, but if they decided to use Beatrice as a card in the civil war, they'd attempt negotiations with the Chairwoman.
I'd have to block that too.
'More problems even as I earn more money.'
Well, still.
For the first time, it really felt like we'd fully escaped the brink of bankruptcy.
Let me savor this happiness, just for now.
...Surely I could cut back on the night shifts now? Obviously, I hadn't been working myself to the bone because I enjoyed it.
Right at that relieved moment.
"F-Finance Director!"
"Ah, Chairwoman! Everything's been resolved. But why are you so late?"
"That's not the issue right now!"
"Pardon?"
What do you mean, not the issue? We just survived the academy's worst crisis—the financial audit.
An ominous feeling crept up, and my eyes twitched involuntarily.
Fuck, what now?
"Th-the dwarves...!"
"Dwarves? Why dwarves all of a sudden?"
"The dwarf city sent an official document!"
"An official document?"
Why an official document out of nowhere?
More to the point, were those guys in any position to be sending official documents? Had city repairs been completed or something?
I urged her with my eyes, but the Chairwoman kept glancing at the protagonist.
An 8th Rank being self-conscious about the protagonist? Truly?
"Student Rus already knows our circumstances. Please, just speak freely."
"...Even so, it was supposed to be a secret between you and me, Finance Director."
"If not for Student Rus, it would've become a secret known by the entire Kingdom."
The Chairwoman and the protagonist exchanged a brief look.
Then the Chairwoman, irreverently clicking her tongue, continued speaking.
"You remember how I sold off artifacts in the past, right?"
"Of course."
She'd sold artifacts when we were broke. She'd already parted with most of the worthwhile ones before I became Finance Director, so I'd never witnessed one of those transactions firsthand.
Come to think of it, the rank-measuring device incident had involved a peaceful dagger-based negotiation with dwarves. That was months ago now. Hard times back then—looking back now, I can't help feeling nostalgic—
"...The dwarves are demanding a refund."
"Fucking hell?"
"I don't know why they're bringing up something from years ago now, but this just came directly to me, and I thought I should tell you right away."
What? A refund?
It's been years and they're talking refunds? Wait, you dwarves melt artifacts down and use them for city reconstruction. How exactly do they plan to return anything?
The protagonist looked just as baffled, which meant she was probably thinking the same thing. Actually, did she even know about the dwarf city? How would she know that?
No, don't suspect the protagonist. The important thing right now is those black-consumer dwarf bastards.
"A refund? Leaving aside whether that's even possible, isn't this an outrageously shameless demand? Refuse outright. It's utter nonsense."
"...W-well, the thing is."
"Chairwoman?"
"I... wrote a contract back then."
"Pardon?"
"I seem to recall there might have been a refund clause..."
Ah.
...Ah.
*
"He's not coming."
"...No, it seems not."
"It's already been a week."
Meanwhile, in the Finance Director's office, Milia was serving tea to a certain Elf Archmage.
'You lunatic, hurry up and get here...!'
She was mentally cursing Adam with a fury that would blister paint while somehow maintaining a smile.
The 8th Rank Archmage had shown up unannounced, saying he still hadn't received an answer, and now the two of them were alone while they waited for the Finance Director to return.
Milia, who just wanted to wrap things up and go home, cursed her luck and the world at large.
Then the Elf Archmage's 'Eye,' floating behind his chair, turned toward her—a grotesque, fleshy thing that still bore traces of skin around its edges, as though clinging to existence.
"Ah...?"
"In the meantime, may I ask you one thing?"
"W-wait, what?"
"I can see traces on you that are familiar to my disciple."
The 'Piercing Eye' that once belonged to a young elf opened.
Could you even call that magic?
It had clearly been processed into a magical form, but grotesquely, skin still clung around the eye, and it seemed to possess physical substance—it had adhered to the Archmage's chair, fused with it, as if desperate to stretch its body out even a little further.
Instead of blood, black tears dripped. A torn, dilated, clouded pupil pierced through Milia.
"Could you explain it to me?"
Unlike Chloe, who coexisted—
This was the woman who had been utterly overwhelmed.