Chapter 24: The First Letter (24)
Chapter 24: The First Letter (24)
Early in the morning, my eyes snapped open. It was because my body remembered the time I usually woke up.
Assuming I hadn't overindulged the night before, I would usually be washing my face and preparing to head out by now. My morning routine consisted mostly of training and lectures—the same schedule followed by the vast majority of students in the Swordsmanship Department.
The body is like a precision machine. If you don't grease the gears properly every morning, you won't be able to respond in time when the situation demands it.
This was common sense. That was why, even if there weren't many students diligent enough to swing a sword at the crack of dawn, there were plenty who would warm up with a few drills before breakfast.
This wasn't just the daily life of Academy students; it was a routine shared by most swordsmen.
Unfortunately, it had already been several days since I’d missed my morning training.
It wasn't by choice. If anything, I was dying to train. Resting is fine for a day or two, but when you can't move your body for several days like this, a heavy, stiff feeling begins to take hold.
My body, which had always felt light, had grown heavy. It was a deeply unpleasant sensation for anyone, but especially for a swordsman.
A swordsman should be a single blade. There should be no unnecessary clutter, whether in body or mind. Yet, right now, my body was far from its optimal state.
I desperately wanted to get up and return to my daily routine this very instant. But the reason I couldn't was the bandages wrapped tightly around my frame.
Every time I saw those clean, soft strips of cloth, the reality that I was still an invalid hit home. They were pure white now, but the bandages I’d seen when I first opened my eyes had been a disaster.
The sight of dried blood and pus... that gruesome scene was burned into my mind more deeply than the throbbing pain I’d felt.
When priests pour divine power into you, the healing process accelerates. Usually, the bleeding stops then and there. But the fact that blood and pus were still seeping out by the time I regained consciousness meant the injuries had been that severe.
I really almost died. Once that realization set in, my spirit deflated.
Now was the time to focus quietly on recovery. No matter how much I wanted to return to my normal life, it meant nothing if my body didn't heal properly. If I rushed things, I’d be the only one losing out.
So, every morning when I woke up, I would spend my time staring blankly out the window or flipping through a few books Reto had brought me.
Even the titles were boring. History of Imperial Thought and Introduction to Social Theory—who on earth reads this stuff? The questions I’d always had whenever I visited the library were finally being answered.
It was people like Reto. Even though he knew full well how much I hated theoretical texts, he’d left nothing but these behind. No matter how I looked at it, I felt a sense of malice.
Unable to endure the boredom, I managed to read about ten pages of History of Imperial Thought before finally slamming it shut. It seemed more beneficial to just get more sleep.
It was around then that a crack appeared in my monotonous routine. Suddenly, I sensed a presence outside the door. Soon after, with a long creak, the door opened.
Was it Reto or Celine? Or perhaps Professor Andrei from the Theology Department, who was in charge of my treatment? However, the visitor who soon revealed herself was none of them.
Silver hair that gave off a noble radiance. Deep blue eyes that held a profound light, as if the stars of the night sky had been meticulously crafted into jewels, entered my field of vision.
Her face was set in a stiff expression. Someone else might have mistaken it for a look of displeasure, but I knew better. That was the face she made whenever she was nervous.
As proof, even after entering the room, she stood there fidgeting for a long time, looking like she didn't know what to do with herself. She was the same as always.
Come to think of it, this must be her first time visiting a friend in the hospital. I gave her a welcoming smile, hiding a bitter chuckle.
"Welcome, Seria."
"Y-yehes. H-have you been w-wel... Ugh, have you been well?"
Biting her tongue was also classic Seria. Her face turned slightly red, and I chuckled, finding the sight quite cute.
I gestured with my eyes toward the seat prepared next to the bed. Seria sat down cautiously in the chair. My voice carried a hint of gladness.
"You timed it perfectly, Seria. I was just starting to get bored."
As I spoke, I picked up the book I had just closed and shook it, showing her the cover.
"I asked them to bring me something to read, and they left me this garbage. Those jerks."
"I-I see..."
My grumbling voice was perfectly calm, but Seria trailed off, seemingly awkward with such a natural conversation. Her eyes were darting around, unable to find a place to settle.
It meant she was unfamiliar with the situation and nervous. Since I had expected this reaction from her, I decided to take the lead in the conversation.
"How have you been? I wanted to hear some news, but I haven't been able to see your face at all."
There was a clear teasing tone in my voice as I asked, but Seria's reaction was quite dramatic. She immediately began waving her hands in a fluster.
"I-I-It's not that... I-I made such a huge mistake, I was worried that Senior Ian might be angry..."
As she spoke, Seria began to look more and more dejected. It seemed that her previous mistake had indeed wounded her pride.
Guilt must have been eating at her. Wounds of the heart always fester in solitude. With no one to consult and lacking the courage to talk to me, Seria must have been agonizing in front of the temple all day.
Wondering if it was okay to come see me, or if I would be angry.
I was her first friend. From her perspective, it was only natural to be afraid. Even now, she was busy gauging my reaction.
Seeing her clumsy behavior, I burst into laughter once more. Seria, looking downcast and constantly glancing at me, reminded me of a puppy caught in the rain.
If she looked even a little closely, she’d realize I wasn't angry, but since she lacked social skills, she didn't seem certain yet.
So, to put her at ease, I spoke plainly.
"I'm not angry, Seria."
At my words, Seria's complexion brightened instantly. She asked me back, her face lighting up with joy.
"R-Really...! Ah... Are you really?!"
She bit her tongue again in the middle, but I was used to it by now and didn't bother pointing it out. Seria, however, still seemed a bit embarrassed, lowering her head as her face flushed.
"Why would I be angry in the first place? I was the one who decided to send you ahead, and I was the one who decided to fight. Your only 'fault' was being too good at listening to me."
"B-But, if I had taken Senior Ian's advice to heart from the beginning..."
"Anyone can make a mistake."
At my nonchalant voice, Seria's mouth clamped shut. I continued as if it were no big deal.
"Everyone makes a ridiculous mistake or two in their life. That's what friends are for. When someone does something stupid, you might curse and fight, but in the end, you fix it together."
That was why one needed at least a few friends to lean on. In life, things happen that you simply cannot solve on your own.
For example, I had friends like Reto and Celine. I was always grateful for the fact that those two were by my side. Having someone to share joy and sorrow with makes life so much richer.
I hoped Seria would find friends like that too. It didn't have to be me. I just thought it would be good if there was at least one person who could support her whenever she felt anxious.
Because right now, she looked unstable. It was the kind of expectation a senior might have for a junior they cared about.
"Last time, you just happened to be the one who made a mistake. Next time, it could be me. So don't worry about it. Everything turned out fine anyway, didn't it?"
And honestly, I had no reason to be dissatisfied. It was thanks to the fact that I’d gained quite a lot from facing those demonic beasts that day.
If you thought about it, even the large sum of 70 Gold given as a reward was just a side benefit.
On that day, while engaged in a life-and-death struggle with the beasts, I had been able to grow one step further as a swordsman.
My use of Aura, my utilization of senses, and even my physical movements had improved.
It was like an intuition. A conviction that the 'me' before that day and the 'me' after were on different levels as swordsmen.
I’d have to grip a sword again to know the details, but even without doing so, the amount of mana flowing through every corner of my veins already proved my growth.
There could be no finer achievement for a swordsman.
Of course, even then, I probably wouldn't be at Seria's level. Nevertheless, it was clear that the fight that day had been a precious opportunity for me.
Therefore, if anything, I should be grateful to Seria; there was absolutely no reason to be angry. This was why my attitude toward her couldn't help but be gentle.
However, Seria, who didn't know the inner details, seemed quite deeply moved by my attitude.
She stared at me with a blank gaze for a while, then shook her head, barely snapping out of it.
Then, as if she had made up her mind, she pulled a pouch from her robe and held it out to me. It was a pouch filled with gold coins.
"U-Um, Senior Ian..."
"Don't tell me this is another 'payment'?"
Before she could even finish her sentence, I asked her with a suspicious look.
Startled by my preemptive strike, Seria shook her head and denied it vehemently.
"N-No! It's the reward money I got in advance after speaking with Professor Derek. F-For subjugating the demonic beasts... I heard it's best to receive the money you're owed as quickly as possible."
Well, if that was the case. I took the pouch without a word and estimated the number of gold coins inside.
The pouch was too heavy. Even at a glance, there seemed to be well over 70 gold coins.
I let out a deep sigh and handed the pouch back.
"Seria, there's too much gold in here."
Seria's eyes went wide at my words. As if she hadn't expected me to notice.
But how could I not? To Seria, the subjugation reward might be pocket change, but to the second son of a rural viscount like me, it was a fortune. There was no way I wouldn't know the amount.
"The reward is 70 Gold, isn't it?"
"B-But..."
Seria lowered her head at my low voice and began to hesitate. I waited patiently for her to speak.
"...You saved my life."
"Hmm," I hummed, staring intently at Seria. It was a sound like a whisper, but I heard it clearly. Her voice had grown a bit moist.
It was a sorrowful tone, unbelievable coming from the usually blunt Seria.
"So, I wanted to compensate you, even if just a little. I don't think the value of my life is cheap."
"That's exactly why I can't take it."
I let out a sigh and stated firmly. Then, before Seria could argue, I forced the pouch back into her hand.
When her hand and mine touched, Seria's body flinched and trembled. Her gaze went blank again.
She seems to be spacing out a lot today. Is she okay? However, I decided not to worry too much about it.
I pressed the pouch into her hand and wrapped both of my hands around hers. I was worried she might just drop the pouch.
Seria's hands were soft and warm. So much so that it was hard to believe she had spent her whole life training with a sword.
"Your life isn't cheap, right?"
"...Y-Yehes."
Seria nodded as if possessed by my words. It was a strangely docile reaction. Her face was gradually turning red.
She seemed ashamed that her hands were being held. But if I let go, she might just leave the pouch and run off, so I decided to maintain this state for a moment.
"That's why it can't be converted into money. A life is something that can't be weighed against anything else... You are a more precious person than you think, so cherish yourself."
"Ch-Cherish..."
Seria repeated my words with a flushed face. Is she actually listening? I was a bit suspicious, but since there was no sign of resistance from her, I finally let go of her hands.
Then, Seria let out a small, regretful sound. But that was only for a moment; she soon seemed to come to her senses and lowered her head deeply.
Whatever was so embarrassing, her face was bright red all the way to her ears. Perhaps because her skin was so translucent, it was even more noticeable.
She kept her silence for a while, avoiding my gaze, then suddenly stood up.
"T-Then, I'll be going now..."
"You're leaving already?"
We had only talked for a little bit, so I couldn't help but ask with a hint of regret.
It was because I knew I’d be spending a boring time alone once she left. But Seria's attitude was quite firm.
"Y-Yes... I-I mean, I haven't finished my morning training yet..."
I smacked my lips and expressed my disappointment, but if that was what Seria wanted, there was nothing I could do. She must have her own schedule.
Just as I was about to bid her farewell.
"Ian! Good morning... Oh."
Along with a lively voice, a head of black hair suddenly popped through the doorway. It was Celine, a lovely-looking girl with amber eyes.
She was about to greet me with a full smile when she spotted Seria, and her expression froze instantly.
Seria was equally flustered. Surprised by Celine's sudden appearance, she stiffened.
A moment of silence hung in the air. Celine was staring silently at Seria, and Seria was hesitantly avoiding Celine's gaze. It was an inevitably awkward situation for Seria.
Just as I was thinking I should step in.
Seria seemed to muster her courage and tried to speak.
"U-Um, I'm in your d—"
But before she could even finish her sentence.
Thump. Celine's shoulder brushed past Seria's body as she walked in.
It was an attitude that seemed to refuse to even acknowledge Seria's existence—a reaction more rude than I could have imagined. My eyes widened.
Seria immediately looked dejected. Others might not have known, but I could tell. Seria had just been hurt.
But Celine didn't care whether Seria felt that way or not. Instead, she beamed and gave me her usual greeting.
"Hi, Ian. How was last night?"
I frowned slightly. Naturally, my reaction to that greeting wasn't good. No matter if it was their first meeting, I couldn't feel comfortable when she was openly ignoring my acquaintance.
Naturally, my voice followed, scolding Celine.
"Celine, what are you—!"
"Then, I'll be going."
But I couldn't continue. It was because Seria had bid me farewell before that, acting as if nothing had happened.
My eyes turned to Seria. My gaze was one of bewilderment. She's being ignored like this, and she's okay with it?
Even under my gaze, Seria simply gave a slight nod as if she were used to it and left. My mood felt even more unpleasant, as if it had been trampled by shoes that had rolled in the mud.
Celine watched Seria leave with a cold gaze, and once she was gone, she snorted and spoke sarcastically.
"Shameless bitch. What a brat..."
In that voice, spat out like a curse, there was a thorny hostility and resentment. I couldn't help but frown even more.
"Celine, you really..."
"Now, now! Just ignore that rude bitch. So, how was yesterday? Did our Ian stay up all night thinking about Celine?"
But Celine acted as if nothing had happened, giving me a playful wink and poking me with her finger.
A silent pressure telling me not to ask any more.
In the end, I let out a sigh and played along with her joke, but it was from this moment that I seemed to notice the signs.
The subtle power struggle between Celine and Seria—no, a problem that could be even more serious than that.
I recalled the advice I had heard from Reto not long ago.
‘The world of women is far more insidious than you think.’
Those words weighed strangely on my mind.