Little Academy Punks - 6
It was clearly a letter sent to resolve the problem, but the reply not only failed to fix anything—it unleashed a whole new disaster.
These were just Akrok Academy scholars at best, squabbling among themselves even if you stretched it to the whole of Jangsa. Sending them to Kaepyeong to brawl in front of the ministers? The Colosseum itself wouldn't dare stage something this absurd. You'd hear complaints that even turning rebels into a sideshow was going too far.
And it wasn't even all of them—they were to select just six and send those. Among the scholars in Akrok Academy, that meant picking only the top-tier mad fighting cocks, right?
Better to send a crowd. My mind reeled. If dozens piled in, their voices would at least get scattered, but with just six? Those fighting cocks would spew every word they wanted unchecked.
"My lord? What's wrong?" Seeing my face harden, unease crept into Pung-seong's expression beside me.
"His Majesty wishes to personally witness the debates of Akrok Academy's scholars."
"Pardon?"
"Select six and send them to Kaepyeong."
"Pardon?"
"In Kaepyeong, they'll debate before the ministers."
Pung-seong fell silent under the triple strike with no room to breathe. I got it. If I'd read this letter alone, my legs would've buckled too.
"As loyal subjects of Daesong, we must gladly obey His Majesty's command. But to ensure a satisfying debate, we need the finest. I'll need your help for that, Pung-seong."
"……."
"Pung-seong?"
"……."
No reaction even when I called his name. None even when I waved my hand right in front of his eyes.
Oh.
A mere bureaucrat ignoring a high official might normally annoy me, but pity outweighed any anger.
He fainted.
Pung-seong had passed out from the sheer shock and terror—eyes wide open, standing ramrod straight on both legs.
Poor guy.
Until now, he'd gritted his teeth mediating to keep things from escalating, only for the academy's mess to explode right in front of the Emperor and ministers in an instant. Maintaining sanity in this situation would be the real anomaly.
But what could we do? The deed was done, the imperial order issued. Denying reality changed nothing—we had to strive for the quietest possible passage.
With the stage set, we need fighting cocks to satisfy the Emperor and ministers.
Honestly, neither the Emperor who issued the order nor the ministers coming to gawk at us lowly juniors expected much from the scholars. If even the ministers steering the nation couldn't solve it in decades, demanding clear answers from rookies was conscienceless.
So the scholars' role was their raw madness. Show the Emperor and ministers unyielding scholars who wouldn't bend their arguments, teeth gritted in rebuttal no matter what.
Then the Emperor would nod at the future bureaucrats' vigor, and the ministers would approve of these successors ready to fight in their stead. Maybe even rejoice that juniors voiced what they themselves held back—for the Emperor's sake, for face, out of pity for colleagues. Radical claims stifled by imperial scrutiny, merciful ones unspoken from colleague guilt—all would pour from the scholars' mouths.
Go purely by ability. Decision made. For the six to Kaepyeong, ignore mildness or common sense—pure debate prowess only. Select those who'll flip the stage upside down.
This was the Emperor summoning them personally. No punishments for unpopular arguments mid-debate, and academy scholars wouldn't outright disrespect His Majesty anyway.
"Pung-seong."
"...Yes? Ah, yes!" Infusing inner energy into my call snapped him out of it.
"Select the six with the loudest voices, most passion, and broadest logic. Three advocating harsh punishment for the old murim, three for merciful treatment."
"Voice, passion, logic... is that right, my lord?" His voice trembled slightly at my words.
As Duke Weiguk's nephew, he hailed from noble blood, passed the exams on merit, proving his talent. Sharp enough to grasp my lineup's intent.
"Yes. Just ones who can deliver the scholars' voices clearly to His Majesty."
"Understood."
His head nodded stiffly at the firm order.
"Also, prepare to head to the capital yourself, Pung-seong."
No creaking protest this time.
"M-me too, my lord?"
"Yes. His Majesty said six, but heated debates need a mediator. Luckily, you have the qualifications and skill."
"No, my lord. I appreciate the high regard, but—"
"Without you, who knows what your juniors might do before the throne. Truly worrisome."
His body flinched. Probably imagining the future without him there.
"I'll prepare at once."
"Good. Take care."
I patted his shoulder at the tearful surrender. He'd voluntarily mediated and soothed his brothers' squabbles. No love or worry for them, and he'd never have done it without knowing he was essential.
Such a man sending six standout fighting cocks before the Emperor—without safeguards? No way.
Sorry.
Felt like exploiting his conscience, but bear with it. Emperor's order or not, if the guys I brought caused chaos, I'd suffer too.
I relayed the six fighting cocks' trip news to Pojeongsa too.
"Debating old murim treatment before the throne?"
"Yes, that's how it turned out."
"Not Kaepyeong's ministers, but academy scholars?"
"Surprisingly, yes."
Pojeongsa naturally pressed his forehead with a wry chuckle upon hearing.
"His Majesty's profound will is beyond this lowly one's grasp... but I'm worried they'll slip up."
His utterly reasonable concern had me nodding instinctively. These were guys who aired the taboo old murim issue even high officials hushed, escalating to inn brawls in pure zeal. Human instinct to fear chaos before the Emperor.
But instinct being instinct, I'd prepared.
"That's why I'm sending Duke Weiguk's nephew, Pung-seong, along. He passed the exams and was already preparing to leave the academy; he's mediated their heated debates before. He'll do splendidly in Kaepyeong too."
The Emperor said six, but adding one non-debater mediator should be fine. His Majesty wouldn't ignore the on-site lead's input—that rigid.
"Hm? Duke Weiguk's nephew?"
Pojeongsa tilted his head, hearing it fresh.
"Duke Weiguk's kin was at Akrok Academy?"
"Yes. He hid it thoroughly, wanting to become a bureaucrat on pure merit."
"Heh. A diligent youth."
I gave a bitter smile at the shocking truth—even Pojeongsa unaware. Pung-seong hid it to avoid his uncle's favor, but I hadn't expected the prefect unaware too. Figured Duke Weiguk might've subtly asked, 'Keep an eye on my nephew, make sure he stays out of trouble.'
Uncle and nephew both.
In the 14th century, uncle-nephew bonds were ironclad—cousins were family, uncles even more. Yet Duke Weiguk and Pung-seong both stayed mum: uncle respecting nephew's will, nephew forging ahead on his own merit.
... This won't get awkward, will it? Fresh anxiety hit. Duke Weiguk might feel a twinge if he learned I'd thrown his nephew into throne-room mediation.
"Duke Weiguk will rejoice knowing this. His nephew, who passed on merit, standing before the throne before officialdom. His Majesty might even take note."
But Pojeongsa's follow-up eased my worry. Right—I wasn't tossing Pung-seong into hell. I was introducing a bureaucracy newbie to the Emperor and ministers. Paving his path smooth. Prove his skill, and he'd rise faster than most—grounds for thanks, no?
Decided to think that way.
"One issue, Left Vice Inspector General. With the mediator—Duke Weiguk's nephew—heading to the capital, won't the remaining scholars debate without restraint?"
"Ah, no need to worry. They've pledged silence at Akrok Academy until the Kaepyeong group returns."
"That's a relief."
Pojeongsa sighed in relief at the academy's impending quiet. Temporary fix, really. The six cocks returning post-throne rant could spark fiercer clashes. Cruelly put, like fooling a three-year-old with nine.
But even this bought Pojeongsa precious time like rain in drought. Plus, the Emperor watching might decree further academy measures—who knew what.
"I pray those sky-gazing juniors return mountain-steady..."
I quietly sipped tea at his mutter. May Pojeongsa's modest wish come true.
As the Left Vice Inspector General instructed, we gathered the most passionate, loudest... anyway, those matching the criteria.
"We're heading to Kaepyeong."
"Pardon?"
"Brother Pung, what do you mean?"
The brothers looked baffled at the announcement.
"We've been granted the honor to fulfill our scholarly duty under His Majesty's gaze."
"...Brother Pung, you don't mean."
"We'll debate before the throne."
A suffocating silence hung. Natural—any scholar meeting the Emperor, debating under his eyes? Unfazed? And with ministers crowding the throne room too. Boldly voicing opinions before them was no small feat—
"Before the throne! Us, before the throne!"
"What greater glory for a scholar! I could die grinning the moment the debate ends!"
Ah.
Silence shattered into thunderous cheers. I'd momentarily forgotten these weren't right in the head.