Albert Buckers (1)
After the lecture.
"Ugh, another class in an hour."
"Let's just grab something quick and go."
"We don't have time — can't we just buy a sandwich?"
"Is that enough for you? From what I saw last time, your portion looked…"
"…"
"S-sorry. Want to get a sandwich?"
"Hmph."
***
The morning's Engineering Magic lecture was a continuation of the previous lesson, and the General Magic class didn't hold much interest.
And so, 2 o'clock.
I headed back to the Thunder Hall for the Engineering Circuit Theory lecture.
"Huff, pant… This schedule — it's definitely designed to improve students' physical fitness."
"It's just that you have low stamina."
"I'm, whew… I'm average for the Crafting Department, you know?"
"Can you say that to the Metallurgy students?"
"…"
I sat Cecil, who was still catching her breath, down in a lecture hall chair and looked out the window.
It was about that time of year for blooming — a few trees had already burst open, in full flower.
"Huh? You like flowers?"
"They're not bad. They smell nice and they're pretty."
"Then what about me?"
"You smell nice and you're pret… wait, why are you suddenly going there?"
"Heung?"
Her eyes were narrowing, the corners of her mouth curling up.
And she'd just been flopped over the desk, gasping for air. It was infuriating.
"Keep going."
"No."
"Heheh, then buy me a flower."
"I have no money."
"I'll lend you some."
"Then there's no point in you buying it. Besides, aren't you scraping by for food money?"
"I always have an emergency fund."
"You should save that."
As we were bickering, the lecture began without us noticing.
"Greetings. Call me Professor Bill. Let's start class."
The professor was a dwarf, barely reaching my waist.
With his shaggy beard, weathered face, and blunt, no-frills way of speaking…
"…A dwarf?"
"Ah. I forgot to mention. I am a dwarf. I have a sensitive heart when it comes to height and racial discrimination, so conduct yourselves accordingly."
"Pfft!"
"You, the student who just laughed. I won't deduct points — but I'll make a note of it in my journal."
With a face that looked like the toughest guy in the world saying something like that, it was hard not to let out a snicker.
I turned my head and saw Cecil was in a similar state.
I'd heard dwarves had a peculiar sense of humor, but I guess that wasn't always the case.
"Now, let's start the real lecture. Pay attention. What I'm about to teach you is the most basic of basics, but if you don't know this, you can't do anything."
Bill's expression turned serious in an instant, and he began the lecture.
Bill had been expressionless the whole time, but anyway.
"What is a circuit? We'll start from there. An artifact works by mana from the magic stone in the socket flowing through the mana channel and reaching the formula. You should already know this much."
"Yes."
"A circuit refers to all of that. Designing the placement of the mana socket, drawing the mana channel while considering its arrangement and loss, and the formula — I don't need to explain that. It means that if you don't know how to design a circuit, no matter what material you draw a formula on, you're useless."
Bill said this while holding up what looked like a quill pen.
"A circuit is a kind of drawing. If you think of mana as paint, then of course you need a brush. If you dip a circuit quill in mana liquid and draw, a circuit will be formed."
"Circuit quills are useful. As long as you have mana liquid, you can use them anywhere, and in a pinch, you can use your own mana as a temporary substitute. However."
At the same time, other dwarves who seemed to be his assistants pushed carts in from both ends.
"They're expensive. Very expensive. Especially for commoners, it'll be a huge burden."
…That's not good.
Cecil and I are both short on money.
Even if we work part-time, it's just enough for food or pocket money. Saving is a dream.
Maybe I should try asking Luke for some money.
"However."
Just then, Bill's words cut through my thoughts.
"I am aware that not every student at the Academy has financial leeway. After all, the original purpose of its founding was far from lofty teachings. Therefore."
Bill patted the cart that the dwarf assistant had brought in.
"Mac, Tam. Open it."
"Yes, sir."
"Oof."
Under the lid the two dwarves opened.
The cart was loaded with circuit quills, each enclosed in a luxurious case.
"These are quills provided by the Academy. I managed to get them by begging and pleading, so don't expect any resupply."
Ah.
I suddenly turned my head to look at Cecil.
And I realized that her expression, which had been frowning until just a moment ago, had relaxed.
"Heheh. That's a relief, right?"
"…Yeah."
I need to make a lot of money.
At least enough to never have to worry about it.
***
With the end of the Basic Circuit Theory lecture, all of today's classes were over.
I figured I wouldn't have time again if I didn't go now, so I left Cecil with Bail and headed to the infirmary.
I'd heard she was from an orphanage's eldest sister type, so she'd probably be fine.
Knock, knock.
"Come in."
"Yes."
"What brings you this time… Ah, it's you. Come this way."
As I entered the infirmary, the smell of medicine filled the air, and Albert gestured to me.
"Due to the nature of an infirmary, I can't lock the door. But I have an artifact that seals in sound, so feel free to speak comfortably."
"Yes."
Even if I hadn't lived in that house, I'd spent enough time in the library to have found out a few things.
Namely, that Luke is the hero who slew the Demon King, the Warrior of the Reversal.
But there aren't many records about him.
Just that he served as a professor at the Academy during the era of war.
For a hero of that caliber, his deeds were suspiciously few. No, they were practically nonexistent.
Probably. No, definitely. Luke must have hidden them himself.
I wasn't foolish enough to talk about that openly.
"How much do you know about me?"
"As I said before. That there was a disciple like that once."
"Then I'll have to start from the beginning."
Albert let out a faint sigh and began to speak.
It was 20 years ago.
When Albert was just 13 years old.
"Ghk, haaah…"
The boy, still with baby fat, had his intestines spilling out from his stomach, and a whistling sound escaped his lips.
Anyone who saw him would have been certain: he was dead.
Albert himself thought the same.
Damn Twin-Headed Ogre.
The mercenaries and guards who had been staying in the village had all died trying to fight that monster.
All they got in return was a single arm.
And even that regenerated in an instant, so it wasn't a real loss.
His father had disappeared somewhere, addicted to gambling. His mother had raised him alone before being torn apart by a monster.
He would end up the same way.
Just as his eyelids grew heavy and his breathing began to fade.
"A survivor. Mariel!"
"Yes! O merciful Holy Mother, bless this small, fading breath, wounded and…"
As he heard some voices, he blacked out.
Yes.
He blacked out.
He didn't die.
"Hah?!"
The boy, Albert, opened his eyes as if waking from a long sleep.
H-he's alive?
"Huh? Luke! This kid woke up!"
"It would have been better if he hadn't."
"He's already awake, what can we do? Knock him out?"
"…"
"Ode. Don't look at me like that. I'm joking, you know?"
As soon as Albert opened his eyes, what he saw was a tent made of rags, a blanket carelessly thrown on the dirt floor, and five pairs of eyes staring at him.
With so many people chattering, things got chaotic in an instant.
"Listen up, kid."
One of them, with blue eyes, spoke.
The man who seemed to be the leader.
"Your mother is dead. Your neighbors, your friends, your acquaintances, strangers — you're the only one who survived that village."
"…Yes."
He had expected it.
Just surviving that place was a miracle in itself.
But hearing the truth from someone else's mouth was bitter.
"Good, you're quick to accept. Do you see that person over there? Cardinal Rebecca. She's from the Church, overseeing this group of survivors. Follow her orders. That's your best chance of survival."
The man pointed a finger at a woman in a priest's robe.
Confirming that my gaze had followed his finger, the man stood up and left.
At the same time, the people who seemed to be his party also turned their backs.
I guess that person saved me.
He took down that giant Twin-Headed Ogre without any injuries.
And even revived me, who was half-dead.
Something burned in my chest.
If I had that kind of power, could I have stopped it?
Bill from the skewer shop, Sarah from the fabric store, Ben from the fruit shop… maybe even my mother.
Could I have protected them?
The heat in my chest grew even stronger.
I felt wronged.
Why did a Twin-Headed Ogre appear in a village that barely even saw a few goblins?
Why did so many soldiers latch onto it, unable to do any damage, and my mother had to die?
Why was I forced to just watch it all?
Everything made me angry and resentful.
After the man and his party left, all that remained was a bitter, churning feeling inside.
I never wanted to feel this kind of dogshit emotion ever again.
And so, Albert took up a sword.
Six months passed.
He learned swordsmanship from a wandering mercenary in the survivor group.
He learned how to fight smart from a thief.
An adventurer taught him how to be wary of his surroundings and how to erase his tracks.
He internalized all their techniques.
It was possible because their techniques were the unremarkable skills of unremarkable people.
But the ones who had taught Albert were no longer with him.
They were probably rotting in the bushes or had become monster food.
Albert felt pity, but he no longer felt anger.
Because the total amount of his anger was fixed, and he had already devoted all of it to something else.
The survivor group kept wandering.
Having been part of the group for six months, Albert had long since realized that they had no destination.
But he didn't say anything.
If he did, he'd end up dead like the swordsman, the thief, and the adventurer — acting alone.
Instead, he attached himself to the cardinal named Rebecca.
The survivor group dreamed of one day arriving at the capital and surviving. They lived for tomorrow on that single hope. If he revealed the truth of the survivor group to them…
Well. It wouldn't be a very good thing for the weak-willed Rebecca.
So he used it as leverage to demand she teach him how to cultivate holy power.
Of course, this was the exclusive domain of the faithful, and for Albert, who had no faith, it should have been impossible.
But he forced the demand anyway.
He might die tomorrow. And maybe learning this would let him live.
They say holy power is a power bestowed by the gods.
That's not far from the truth.
Believers offer their faith, and the gods bestow holy power in return.
That's a pretty good deal, isn't it?
Yeah. It's a deal.
Not the love and devotion between parent and child, but a transaction calculated on an abacus for profit.
Until now, he had put his faith on the scale to gain holy power.
That should have been enough. He was revered, worshipped.
But the value of goods used in a transaction always changes.
The rise of the Demon King. The first being estimated to be at the 10th Realm, a monster perhaps rivaling a god.
Whether the Demon King truly reached the level of a god was unknown.
However. The Human God would not be pleased that powerful beings who had reached the 9th Realm were fighting the Demon King, and humans were dying in the process.
That being is said to be so absurdly benevolent that it treats humans like its own children.
No, if you trace the origins, it might actually be correct to think of them as its children. Not that it matters.
The point was simple.
I want to slaughter demons, and the Human God wants humans to live.
So, I propose a deal.
I need the power to kill demons, and the Human God needs someone to kill the demons.
We each want something from the other, and we're both willing to give it.
What better deal could there be than this?
I went to a deserted church, as Rebecca had taught me, knelt down, folded my hands, and bowed my head.
Soon my legs went numb, so I sat comfortably. My hands hurt, so I just let them down. My neck got stiff, so I lifted my head and just closed my eyes.
With a posture so irreverent it looked almost slovenly, I quietly murmured.
'If there is a god.'
'A god who watches his own children suffer this and does nothing.'
'A god who seeks someone to hold a sword in his stead.'
'Answer me.'
'O tribal god of humans who does not protect humans.'
'I will take the sword myself and stand on the battlefield.'
'To cut down one more head, to save one more life.'
'Gather any remaining power and give it to me.'
'I acknowledge the existence of a god, but I do not worship, nor do I yearn.'
'So, this is a deal.'
'Not faith between a god and a human.'
'Just a lawful transaction between two entities.'
'So, O god.'
'Cut me a piece of that damn holiness.'
And the next day.
Albert was able to wield holy power.
A mage who should have died survived thanks to Albert's crude healing.
Rebecca called it a miracle and wept.
The mage wasn't a very remarkable person, but he bestowed knowledge upon Albert.
Rebecca also taught him how to operate holy power.
The aura he learned from the swordsman.
The holy power he received from the god.
The magic circle the mage taught him.
To internalize these three unique powers, Albert struggled with all his might — literally with his life on the line.
It was a fight for his life, in the truest sense.
Because if he hadn't, he would have died.
And so, another six months passed.
Everyone except Rebecca and Albert was dead.
Again.
In the meantime, he learned of many circumstances.
Rebecca had confided in him.
She wasn't actually a clergyman dispatched by the Church.
She wasn't even a cardinal.
She was just a nun.
To rally the survivors, they needed a leader, and with the hope of saving even one more life, she had impersonated a cardinal.
Unlike the Imperial Family, who protected all imperial citizens, the Church was selecting who would live.
That was also why they couldn't make it to the capital.
Because the Imperial Family had already entrusted the defense of the capital to the Church and sent all their military forces to the front lines.
Whether paladins or priests, they were accustomed to protecting something, so it was probably the right decision.
He could understand the Church's judgment too.
The number of people the capital could accommodate was limited.
It was right to save the more important people.
But still.
Who the hell were they to put a price on people's heads?
What made them so great that they got to decide who lives and who dies?
He found it utterly despicable and unbearable.
"Rebecca."
"Yes."
"What crime is impersonating a cardinal?"
"Excommunication, or being branded a heretic."
"That means death."
"…Yes."
Rebecca already knew the punishment for impersonating a cardinal.
It was true that she hadn't done it to seize a high position in the chaos, but to create a rallying point.
"Then, Rebecca."
"Yes."
"I'll become it."
"…Become what?"
"The rallying point."
I had a guess as to why Rebecca confided in me.
Guilt. That must be it.
Even though her intentions were good, everyone who followed her deception died.
Of course, I personally am certain that I lived a few more days thanks to Rebecca.
But I don't know how she feels.
Swordsmen who use magic are rare, but they exist.
Mages who wield aura are also rare, but they exist.
But something that uses holy power, that is neither a mage nor a swordsman, was an unprecedented oddity.
"In terms of realm, I'm about the 3rd Realm. It's low. But for a 14-year-old kid, it's incredibly high. So, I plan to rally people with my talent."
Because of this, people harbored a strange expectation.
A user of a unique ability that had never existed before.
A terrifying potential of the 3rd Realm at age 14.
In an era where not many people even reached the 3rd Realm in their old age, this was enough to be a sufficiently attractive leader.
"So."
"You want me to stop impersonating a cardinal?"
"…Yes. Our goal is to survive. It's infuriating, but becoming a valuable person in the eyes of the Church and entering the capital is the best option. So, if you impersonate a cardinal…"
"You'll die? At least, you won't be able to become a valuable person?"
"…Yes."
"That's probably right."
"And you knew that, yet…!"
"But if I was going to stop just because of that, I wouldn't have started in the first place. The 3rd Realm at 14. It's attractive. But remember this."
Hoo.
"The world isn't full of people who are friendly to us. The title of cardinal is a name to gather survivors, but it's also a shield to protect us from other people."
…It was difficult.
Protect us from other people?
Why?
That sounded like there were people who preyed on others.
Noticing my thoughts, Rebecca smiled faintly.
"So. Leave the difficult parts to me. I'll show you the way, so you just have to walk straight, Albert."
"…Yes."
Was it because of the hand that stroked my head?
Or because it was hard to look at her smiling face?
I deliberately turned my gaze to the floor.
Pat pat, Rebecca.
