Chapter 31: The First Letter (31)
Chapter 31: The First Letter (31)
Words are powerful. However, they were never as potent as what one could see with their own eyes.
One could listen to a hundred explanations, but it was always better to witness the scene firsthand. Such was the power of sight.
Hearing, smell, touch, taste—though many senses existed, none were as dominant as vision. Some scholars even argued that seventy percent of human perception relied on sight.
This was why a heavy silence had no choice but to settle over the swordsmanship training grounds.
Before them stood a visual aid more explicit than anything else.
His name was Tean. Through lips that were a swollen, mangled mess, he forced out his words with great difficulty.
"You lot better watch yourselves. That bastard... he's a complete psycho..."
He trudged toward the three women who had been mocking Seria. As he drew closer, their faces turned ashen.
Without anyone even asking, they began to stammer out excuses in a panic.
"W-W-Who said anything?"
"W-We didn't say a word! We were just talking about someone we know...!"
But their excuses didn't last long. Tean, standing before them, let out a sigh and dropped a single line.
"That's what I said, too..."
Tean pointed his index finger at his own face. He went to tap his wounds but immediately winced and stopped. Even that small movement seemed agonizing.
Cold sweat beaded on the foreheads of the three women. It was a warning.
A chilling warning that they could end up just like him.
Tean looked at their pale faces and let out a hollow chuckle.
"...He turned me into this. Do you think I was the only one?"
He gestured with his chin behind him. There, the rest of his gang was staggering into the hall for the lecture.
They all had one thing in common: they were either limping or had visible wounds on their faces. At the very least, it was clear these weren't self-inflicted injuries.
Their expressions were clouded with wounded pride. It was understandable. No one wants to broadcast the evidence of their defeat to the entire world.
Nevertheless, they had forced themselves to show up.
That fact implied only one thing: appeasing someone's wrath was a far higher priority than nursing their pride.
This was Tean's gang—a group notorious for their ego. The other students could do nothing but maintain a frigid silence.
A chill ran down their spines. The catastrophe they had secretly worried about while mocking Seria had now materialized before them.
One of the girls who had been ridiculing Seria swallowed hard. In a trembling voice, she asked, "D-Did he... take you down one by one?"
"No."
Her trembling voice was cut short. Tean made the declaration with a look of utter indifference.
The women's faces had long since turned white. Their eyes, filled with dread, shook violently.
They were swordsmen as well. They were as accustomed to being struck down as they were to striking others. But the reason they were so terrified was a memory still vivid in their minds.
The so-called 'Yurdina Near-Death Incident.'
They still remembered that moment of one-sided, brutal violence all too well. What if they were the ones standing in that position?
The mere thought gave them goosebumps. After all, the opponent was someone even Tean's gang couldn't handle.
As if offering consolation, Tean patted the shoulder of the woman closest to him. He spoke in a low voice.
Quietly, yet clearly enough for everyone eavesdropping to hear.
"We jumped him as a group, and we still got wrecked. I told you, didn't I? The guy's a psycho... Watch your backs."
As he spoke, Tean stole a glance at Seria. She still looked utterly bewildered.
"...Because I have a feeling you lot are next."
The women let out sharp gasps, their terrified gazes shifting toward Seria. Their eyes seemed to be pleading for something—though even they likely didn't know what they were entreating.
In an instant, the tables had turned. With Tean's appearance, the mockery and criticism directed at Seria were immediately replaced by sheer terror.
Those who had been subtly participating in Seria's bullying now stole glances at her, checking her reaction. They did the same with Tean's gang.
After all, the gang served as the perfect textbook example of what happened when one touched Seria.
Unable to bear the scrutiny, one of Tean's lackeys barked out, "What are you looking at, you shits?! Is this a show?!"
The students flinched and averted their eyes. It was common sense that there was nothing to gain from provoking a wounded beast with a bruised ego.
Tean let out a sigh as if his ordeal was finally over and began to walk. His steps led him directly in front of Seria.
Though he looked somewhat disgruntled, he soon bowed his head. It was a gesture of apology.
"I'm sorry for everything. I won't mess with you again."
"...Why?"
Seria asked blankly. Tean lifted his head slightly.
"How can you change your attitude so suddenly? And even if you didn't go this far to lower yourself..."
"You're misunderstanding something."
Tean whispered, his tone the complete opposite of the loud voice he had used moments ago.
It was a secret meant only for Seria. Curious about his intent, Seria kept her mouth shut.
"I'm not doing this because of you or Ian. If rumors spread that we got taken down easily, we're the ones who are screwed... You get it? We'd be the pathetic losers who got crushed by a single low-mid rank hero even after ganging up on him."
But if they displayed their defeat this blatantly, the narrative changed.
People who wouldn't grasp the severity through words alone would realize it instantly upon seeing Tean's gang.
They would see exactly how much brutal violence had been inflicted upon them.
Then, public interest would shift away from the gang's defeat and toward the existence of the man who had demolished them: Ian.
He was a man who had taken down Tean and his entire crew—warriors whose skills were undeniably solid. Of course, seeing as he hadn't shown up today, he must have sustained serious injuries himself, but that only served to highlight his tenacity and ruthlessness.
This worked in Tean's favor. Public opinion would form around the idea that 'they were beaten by someone worth losing to.'
And in that process, Tean's gang, who were nothing but aggressors, would be transformed into victims. In short, Tean had simply chosen the best possible option.
He was clever. If he were stupid, there was no way he could have maintained his status as a thug in an Academy teeming with elites.
"To be honest, I still don't like you. You've got no manners, and more than anything, you're stronger than me and have a better background... It pisses me off."
However, he added that as he straightened his back. He gave Seria's shoulder a light nudge with his elbow.
It was a greeting from the Southern Kingdoms, a sign of acknowledging the other person.
"But having good allies is a talent in itself. I'll admit it. I lost this time."
With that, he waved his hand and turned around. As if his business was finished, he walked away, while Seria stared blankly at his retreating back, still unable to process everything.
Then, as if he had forgotten something, Tean cast a glance over his shoulder. He left Seria with one final request.
"And make sure to tell Ian about today."
The gang followed behind Tean. Their faces were still etched with dissatisfaction, yet they continued to follow him. It was likely because he was a leader they trusted.
He might be surprisingly smart, Seria thought instinctively.
"...A mad dog is terrifying as an enemy, but reliable as a friend."
With those words, Professor Derek arrived, and the lecture began.
The lecture that day proceeded under a heavy atmosphere from start to finish, leaving Professor Derek looking quite puzzled.
And from that day on, the mockery and bullying directed at Seria vanished without a trace.
In fact, several people who had been openly ridiculing her even approached her, fumbling through apologies. It reached a point where the days Seria had spent in agony felt almost absurd.
And so, Seria thought:
As long as Senior Ian is here, everything can be resolved.
Yes, anything.
As long as Senior Ian is here.
As she repeated those words to herself, her eyes, which resembled aquamarines, sank into a murky, stagnant depth.
In the temple's concentrated healing room, I was being scolded by a beautiful girl with silver hair.
With her striking pale pink eyes, she was a person of noble status—the Saintess of the Holy Kingdom.
Had I met her outside the Academy, she was a high-ranking official I wouldn't have even been able to make eye contact with. Thus, I kept my head bowed throughout her lecture.
I did occasionally steal glances at her ample chest, but that was just a man's instinct; there was no helping it.
Whether she didn't notice my gaze or was simply so used to it that it didn't bother her, the Saintess's nagging continued.
"How can you end up in the concentrated healing room three times in two weeks? Brother Ian, do you perhaps have a hobby of abusing your own body?"
She was usually kind and benevolent, but today she seemed genuinely angry.
Her vocabulary was quite sharp. Feeling a slight prick of guilt, I offered a timid rebuttal.
"No, well... Saintess? It's not like I did this on purpose."
"If it wasn't on purpose, then the rumors that Brother Ian used violence against eight people who visited the temple today must be false as well?"
I shut my mouth. Wait, how did the rumors spread that fast?
Unless someone intentionally leaked it, there was no way a rumor could saturate the Academy in a single day. I didn't know who it was, but thanks to them, my pathetic excuse was dead on arrival.
The Saintess glared at me with those pale pink eyes for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh.
"Brother Ian, please cherish your body. Just because it can be healed doesn't mean you can treat it recklessly. Most people who tragically lose their lives depart to the Heavenly God's side thinking that way."
"...Yes, I'll take it to heart."
I answered quickly, fearing her scolding might continue. The Saintess looked skeptical, but she seemed to decide that further words would be a waste of breath and fell silent.
She paused for a moment as if contemplating something, then cast a subtle glance my way.
"I heard that the Count Lainella family is showing signs of subtle displeasure."
At that low-voiced comment, I let out a sigh, having expected as much. I slapped my hand against my forehead.
Dammit, I knew it.
Thinking back, it was an incredibly reckless move. A mere second son of a viscount challenging a gang that included high-ranking nobles.
Moreover, they were opponents I couldn't even defeat with my current skills. I had no idea why I had been so angry back then.
However, at that moment, I had felt a faint certainty. A groundless conviction that I would never lose to the likes of them.
My sense of debt toward Seria was likely one of the reasons. I was partly responsible for the bullying against her becoming so severe.
Nevertheless, there were several points in my recent behavior that I couldn't understand. They were all things I had done after losing my memory.
Of course, I did have a plan.
No matter how much influence the Count Lainella family had, they couldn't compare to the Yurdina family. And Seria, even as an illegitimate daughter, was a member of the family who bore the Yurdina name. The Lainella family wouldn't want a conflict with her to become public.
That was likely why they were only 'subtly displeased'; they couldn't express it openly. They were simply wondering why a mere second son of a rural viscount, not even Seria herself, was touching their children.
It didn't seem like they would take formal action. No matter the difference in family prestige, I was still a legitimate noble. They wouldn't want to make an enemy over a violence incident that occurred within the Academy.
If anything, rumors would just spread about how they were soundly beaten by a viscount's second son, which would hurt their pride. While the Lainella name was prestigious, they weren't a family of such high standing that they could simply crush another noble house.
Only a family like the Yurdinas had that kind of power. One of the Five Great Noble Families of the Empire.
Still, the warning from the Lainella family was concerning. Not for me, but for my family.
I was worried the Lainella family might exert pressure on my house behind the scenes. I was already indebted to my family for the expensive Academy tuition. I wouldn't be able to hold my head up if that happened.
The Saintess stole a look at my complicated expression. Then, as if talking to herself, she dropped a line.
"I explained Brother Ian's situation well."
"...?"
My questioning gaze turned toward her.
'Explained well' was merely a political euphemism. The more explicit meaning was this:
'I've talked them down, so they won't be able to lift a finger.'
But why? At my suspicious look, the Saintess made the sign of the cross.
"The Heavenly God defends the righteous. I've heard roughly why Brother Ian resorted to violence. And also..."
The Saintess stood up as if it were time to leave and gave me a wink. It was a charming smile.
"There's the matter of the favor from last time."
"...A favor?"
"Hehe, if you don't remember, then never mind."
I still looked bewildered, but the Saintess gave a mysterious hum in response.
She was about to leave the room when she left behind a riddle as if she had just remembered it.
"Come to think of it, your complexion has improved a lot compared to then."
"Then?"
"Yes. Back then, your eyes looked incredibly fatigued. I'm glad to see you're doing better... Well then, I shall take my leave. Immanuel."
'Incredibly fatigued eyes.' I could finally guess roughly what had happened.
It seemed I had done something else during my memory loss. But what exactly?
No matter how much I racked my brain, I couldn't find an answer. The memories of that one week had been cleanly erased from my mind long ago. I could only guess that it wasn't a bad thing, since she called it a 'favor.'
My fruitless pondering didn't last long. As soon as the Saintess left, someone poked their head into the room.
"Ian!"
A cheerful voice. I immediately recognized the visitor.
It was Celine. She waved with her usual bright face and then practically skipped toward me.
"I heard! You absolutely demolished Tean and those jerks? Wow, whose man is this, doing such cool things?"
"I'm nobody's man—Gah!"
Thwack! Celine's palm slammed into my shoulder. Still injured, I had no choice but to let out a shrill cry and writhe in pain.
Celine's face immediately soured. She grumbled.
"You still can't read the room. Can't you just give a half-hearted answer at times like this?"
"It's not something to joke about."
"Hmph." Celine snorted and crossed her arms. A blatant look of dissatisfaction appeared in her eyes.
"You'd burn your whole body for that brat, but you can't even say that one thing to me?"
"I would have stepped in even if it were you instead of Seria. And also..."
I trailed off. Celine had turned her head away as if she were hurt, but she was stealing glances at me, clearly curious about what I was going to say next.
A groan escaped my lips. It meant I was hesitating.
Celine, seemingly frustrated by my behavior, urged me on in a slightly annoyed voice.
"What? What is it now!"
"...About you."
Finally unable to resist her urging, I spoke. Celine's amber eyes turned toward me. I hesitated a bit more before asking.
"Do you... hate Seria?"
Celine showed no reaction to those words.
She simply continued to stare at me. As if trying to gauge the intent behind my question, I decided to ask something even more direct.
"I was wondering if you were the one who spread those nasty rumors about her."
Only then did Celine's expression harden. She slowly uncrossed her arms.
Two sets of firm gazes collided in the air. My eyes were sunken deep.
Celine said nothing for a long time.