The Weight of Silence
The emperor strictly forbade discrimination against the merged nations, yet he turned a blind eye to the prejudice directed at the citizens of the Low Empire—an empire in name only, held together by the fragile thread of alliance. The path the emperor pointed toward was identical to the empire’s own, and open discrimination against those imperial citizens unfolded right beside them.
When people openly discriminated against those from the neighboring country, how much worse must it have been for the distant East Continent? Some found even sharing the same space uncomfortable. They did not hurl insults or pick fights outright, but few could stand tall beneath the weight of sidelong glances and whispered murmurs.
Agano Nagisa was one of those few. She was not from the main empire, but an Eastern Continent native married to a historian from the Low Empire. Marei de Pawen himself had never given it much thought, yet Labella’s rigorous upbringing had crammed his head full of knowledge. In return, he filled his adoptive mother’s womb with his seed—an exchange that could be called perfectly balanced, perhaps.
Paying no mind to others’ gazes was one thing; being truly indifferent to them was quite another. Suppressing the breath that threatened to burst from his chest, Marei opened the classroom door and immediately understood the difference at the sight of Agano Nagisa standing motionless in the center of the room, staring blankly.
“Are you Marei de Pawen? You are late.”
Her words flowed in crisp, clear common tongue. Even so, the pronunciation was precise enough that understanding required no effort. Only the faintest trace of awkwardness lingered, so subtle it would go unnoticed without careful listening. Agano Nagisa’s eyes were fixed on him.
“I-I’m sorry.”
“I have no intention of running my class as rigidly as the other professors, but I do expect you to observe the time.”
Her black hair carried a faint brown sheen beneath the sunlight. Despite her round face, her sharp, blade-like eyes left a striking impression. Those keen eyes reminded him of a raptor soaring through the sky.
He recalled the first time he had met Labella. Back then, the thought that his adoptive mother was beautiful had clouded his judgment, but now he realized that the way she had first looked him over resembled the gaze of a mountain king. She was an entirely different person, yet the sharpness of her eyes stirred a strange sense of familiarity in Marei.
“I will be more careful.”
“Good. I like your answer.”
Nagisa did not even nod. She merely continued to watch him. It was not the affectionate gaze Labella or Ilien directed at him, but a meticulous, analytical stare that felt as though it were peeling away his skin layer by layer.
“Ah, my apologies. This is the first time I have taught anyone at this academy, so… I suppose my enthusiasm got the better of me. This is a swordsmanship class… or rather, a basic swordsmanship class, so I will begin with a few questions. Have you ever learned the sword?”
“No, I have not.”
Her gaze alone moved, yet it felt as though she were physically touching him. He had often seen mana exert physical force, but this was the first time mere sight produced the sensation of contact. It felt unfamiliar.
“Have you ever swung or used a sword at all?”
“Well… I played at war with friends once…”
“So you are a complete beginner. Does your family possess any swordsmanship techniques?”
“……I… I don’t know. They might… but I have never learned them…”
He had never seen Labella wield a sword. Considering the famed blades hanging in the closet and her habit of purchasing only practical items unless they related to Marei, it was possible such techniques existed, yet he had never been taught them.
“What I teach differs greatly from the empire’s swordsmanship. One might even call it a fundamental difference… Neither is superior; they simply diverge from the very beginning.”
“May I ask what that difference is…?”
“A sword is merely a tool. In the East Continent it was developed solely as a weapon to kill people, while in the West it evolved to slay both monsters and humans. That alone creates considerable divergence. You will understand once you learn the first and second forms. I would prefer to discuss this later.”
Though she spoke politely, she drew a clear line. Her tone carried the weight of an order not to ask further. Strangely, it provoked neither anger nor resistance.
“If your family has a sword style, all I can teach you is the mindset of a swordsman and the basic stances. Of course, that is appropriate for a beginner class…”
Nagisa let her words trail off. Marei found his eyes drifting toward the pale nape of her neck visible between strands of her ponytail, and he forced his gaze to remain on the area around her nose and mouth instead.
Gunpowder weapons had changed many things, yet the existence of superhumans remained unchanged. Firearms operated within their own limited laws, but the power wielded by superhumans lay beyond them. Marei only knew this because Ilien had once told him; he did not truly understand it.
“The way you grip the sword, the way you walk, the way you breathe—all differ slightly, but it would be best to think of them as fundamentals you must learn. Try holding the sword like this.”
The training hall—perhaps it was odd to call it a classroom when it was an open space lined with straw dummies and striking posts—stretched before them. Marei accepted the wooden sword Nagisa handed him.
“The key is to keep the blade from shaking…”
Terms Marei could not understand passed between them at intervals, yet Nagisa patiently rephrased each point until her meaning was clear. By the time she finished speaking, the bell signaling the end of class rang.
Footsteps sounded beyond the door. Someone carefully pushed it open and peeked inside. White hair swayed gently, and golden eyes sparkled.
“Professor Nagisa, may I borrow your student for a moment?”
“It is break time, so do as you please. Just return him on time, Lee Ha-eun.”
Lee Ha-eun burst into hearty laughter and flung the door wide. Dressed in a form-fitting tracksuit, she strode quickly to Marei, slung an arm around his shoulders, and pulled him firmly against her.
“Got a minute to talk outside? I’ll buy you something tasty if you spare me some time.”
“Huh? Ah, sure…”
Before he could even voice his confusion at her sudden appearance, Marei found himself nodding. Led by her hand, he was whisked out of the classroom and seated at a café near the lecture building in the blink of an eye.
“What do you want to drink?”
“Anything is fine.”
“That’s the answer I hate most. Two of the most expensive drinks, please. Sorry for dragging you out so suddenly. Are you flustered?”
Lee Ha-eun twisted a lock of hair near her temple. She herself seemed uneasy, her expression tinged with impatience.
“What is it?”
“…It feels strange for me to bring this up. I know it’s really strange. Still, think of it as a personal matter and try to understand. I’m so embarrassed telling a kid something like this that I could die.”
Lee Ha-eun let out a long sigh. She felt less like a professor and more like an older sister, which only made Marei feel closer to her.
“It’s all right… Please tell me.”
“Then… I’ll say it? Ugh… Can I ask what you and Muerangde talked about?”
“Melan?”
Lee Ha-eun nodded. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, her lips pressed tightly together. The rambling, flustered demeanor from moments ago had vanished, replaced by a blank expression that looked almost angry as she stared at Marei.
Marei met her golden eyes, pupils stretched as though pulled taut. Her expression was unreadable. Nothing could be discerned from those steady eyes. He could not even guess why Lee Ha-eun was suddenly asking about Muerangde.
He did not understand why she had brought it up at all, yet his answer remained the same.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“……Marei.”
Lee Ha-eun’s eyes narrowed slightly. Even that small frown made Marei feel as though his breath had been cut off. No—he felt as though breathing itself had become difficult.
Goosebumps rose across his entire body. At the same time, a hallucination struck him: the sensation of his limbs being torn apart. Without realizing it, Marei recoiled, the chair scraping loudly across the floor with a pained creak.
Lee Ha-eun was strangling him. No—she was not. It had been an illusion. She remained seated exactly where she was, merely looking at him. Yet his throat felt constricted. His arms and legs refused to move, as though bound.
The necklace at Marei’s throat trembled and grew hot.
Hostility, killing intent, and all manner of foul emotions poured over him. Or at least, that was how it felt. Goosebumps covered his skin. Though summer was approaching, a chill sharper than midwinter pierced him.
Then, in an instant, everything vanished like a lie.
“…..Can’t you even control your emotions, Lee Ha-eun? Ha, damn it…. Marei de Pawen. That was my mistake. I’m sorry.”
Lee Ha-eun exhaled a long breath. She roughly ran a hand through her hair and muttered curses—not at Marei, but at herself. The harsh self-reproach continued for a moment.
“…..Still, it’s an important matter. Important enough that even I, who no longer fights with anyone, am speaking in earnest.”
“I really don’t understand.”
Lee Ha-eun let out a small laugh, as though she found Marei adorable—or perhaps ridiculous. She wiped her face once with her hand. Her expression did not change, yet the sense that something was being tightly suppressed could not be erased.
“Not understanding means you understand a little, you know that?”
Marei stared straight into Lee Ha-eun’s golden eyes. Though he could read nothing from her face, those unwavering eyes revealed nothing either. He still did not know why Muerangde’s name had suddenly come up or why Lee Ha-eun had sought him out. He simply did not want to speak.
“It’s between Muerangde and me. It’s our story. I don’t understand why Professor Lee Ha-eun is involved.”
“It’s natural you’d think that, and it looks like I’m meddling… I am meddling. I’ll admit that. Can you just understand that I’m a mother curious about her daughter’s story?”
Lee Ha-eun knew full well how strange her words sounded. While speaking, she avoided Marei’s gaze, continuing with her eyes turned away. Yet her sincerity was unmistakable.
Each word she forced out through gritted lips formed a long sentence, leaving Marei unsure how to respond. Still, a sudden question compelled him to interrupt.
“Were you Muerangde’s mother…?”
“No, no. We’re not even the same race, let alone half-bloods!! Just… just think of me as that kind of person and can’t you tell me?”
Lee Ha-eun was sincere. She truly believed it. She believed it regardless of whether others understood. Even though he could not read her expression or decipher the emotion in her eyes, Marei felt strangely certain of her honesty.
“…..I understand that Professor Lee Ha-eun cares for and looks after Melan deeply. Still… if you suddenly come find me and ask what happened, I don’t know what to say. But if there is something you need to hear…”
“If there is?”
Lee Ha-eun echoed.
“Melan seemed afraid of something. She said it wouldn’t do me any good to get close to her. She just kept saying things I couldn’t understand and then disappeared. I think she needs to tell someone what it is.”
“….Again. That’s just like her. Actually, that kid…”
Lee Ha-eun let out another long sigh. She looked as though she were about to make excuses on Muerangde’s behalf, as if she had become the girl herself. Wanting to defend Muerangde no matter what, she had crossed a line. If he stayed quiet, he might learn Muerangde’s story, yet Marei did not want that.
“Enough.”
“Ah…..”
At Marei’s refusal, Lee Ha-eun wore the expression of someone waking from a dream. Then she laughed hollowly, as though unsure what face to make or what answer to give, smiling reflexively.
“Professor, I want to hear Melan’s story from Melan herself. I think it’s right to wait until she decides to tell me. I’m curious, but hearing it from you would be terribly rude to her.”
Lee Ha-eun pressed her lips together. Her golden eyes widened, then rounded so completely that her previous sharpness vanished, leaving only a gentle face as she looked at Marei. Letting out a hollow laugh, she suddenly stood up.
“You’re right…. Yes, you’re right. Of course. You’re better than me. All right, all right… Make sure you come to the next class. No matter what it takes, I’ll drag that brat Muerangde out with me.”
“Yes.”
Lee Ha-eun offered a wry smile. Then she downed the drink in front of her in one gulp.
“Ah, can I ask one more thing?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then… what do you think of Muerangde after what she said? Can I ask that?”
“Marei de Pawen does not befriend others for future gain. I simply want to be friends with Muerangde and stay by her side.”
Philia’s words still weighed heavily on Marei. He had been unable to say them directly to Muerangde at the time, and the sight of her bitter retreating figure lingered in his mind.