Educator
"Education."
Simon suddenly felt a sharp ache in the back of his head and across his shoulders.
"……."
While Simon wore the expression of a man who'd just heard something utterly absurd, the Grand Duke narrowed her eyes.
"What, have you some complaint?"
"N-No, Grand Duke!"
When she glared like that, any complaint he might have had had no choice but to retreat right back down his throat.
The Grand Duke gave a haughty hmph and crossed her arms.
"A perimeter alone leaves holes punched straight through it, and the fool who kept confusing discharge attacks with pre-discharge ones — I shaped such raw material into something resembling a person in barely two weeks of training, and had him cleave the North God. I consider my ability as an educator beyond question."
Simon pointed at himself with a grin.
"Couldn't that just be because the student was capable?"
"Climbing and climbing right to the very last day, I see."
"I have to say my piece while I still can."
The two of them snickered under their breath for a moment, then met each other's eyes.
Her gaze wavered out of habit — but this time, she didn't look away. She stared straight back at Simon. Delighted by it, Simon smiled again and teased her.
"You do realize that hitting your student in the first place disqualifies you as an educator, right?"
"I believe corporal punishment of appropriate severity, administered for the purpose of correction and reform, is necessary."
"That would cause an uproar at Kizen! Do you have any idea how many children of high nobility attend? Even the professors who came from the steppes never go that far."
She snorted as though the very idea were laughable.
"I am the Grand Duke, so I need only mind the royalty, no? Anyone whose parents rank below a Duke — tell them all to kneel."
"……That mindset itself is what disqualifies you as an educator, I'm telling you."
The two of them burst out laughing once more.
Simon found it genuinely enjoyable. At the same time, it ached a little to know this was his last stretch of time with her.
"Well, the talk of crushing you by rank was a jest."
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she went on.
"Beyond the North, one follows the laws of the lands beyond the North."
Simon was more surprised by the realization that her talk of education hadn't been a joke at all.
"Then what made you suddenly interested in education?"
"If I'm being honest, you and Camibarez left an impression on me."
Even in the North, there were those who could open their Cores, and many excellent warriors forged over a lifetime of war. But the capabilities of the young necromancers from Kizen had exceeded anything the Grand Duke had imagined.
She wanted to know how Kizen produced such remarkable talent.
And she wanted to help the children who were still growing.
Something more productive than killing.
She had never received a proper education herself. She wanted, freely and gladly, to share the experience and hard-won know-how she'd gained from grinding herself to the bone through self-study.
And more than anything else —
'I want to keep watching.'
She thought as she looked at Simon.
'How far can you go?'
"……?"
Simon blinked at her blankly for a moment, then broke into a soft, warm smile.
The Grand Duke couldn't hold out in the end; she clutched the bridge of her nose and turned her gaze away.
'Strange new elements have crept into Yona, who knew nothing but revealing his true nature.'
"Grand Duke! Young Master!"
The conversation paused briefly as Godric arrived with cold tea, a northern specialty.
Sipping the bitter, astringent tea, Simon was struck by something.
'Compared to the first day —'
It was delicious.
The ingredients didn't seem to have changed at all.
He had a feeling this addictive, bittersweet taste would keep resurfacing in his mind long after he returned to Kizen.
"The monster matter aside, we'll need to remain in contact with Gyros, now that he's become the new North God."
The Grand Duke, tea cup in hand, brought up a new topic.
"Once you return to Kizen, how will you reach Gyros?"
"There's a liaison. Someone staying in the North who'll serve as the go-between for you and Gyros."
"And who might that be?"
Simon smiled.
"Greyson."
"……The milk girl, you mean."
A touch of bitterness crossed the Grand Duke's face as she took a sip of her tea.
"What happened to Greyson is a regret."
"I know."
"Where is she now?"
A small outlying village near Bilkenos.
[Alright! Let's get to work, work!]
Greyson, now undead, rolled up her sleeves and threw herself into the backlog of chores.
She cleaned the farm, mucked out the reindeer dung, and spread fresh, clean straw across the floor.
She refilled the dried-up water troughs and topped off the feed.
She'd worried that leaving them untended for days might have starved the reindeer to death, but the clever animals had simply hopped the farm fence and grazed on the grass outside. And the moment Greyson returned and filled their trough, they trotted back inside on their own.
[Hi, everyone. Have you all been well?]
She washed the dirt from their coats and milked the reindeer whose udders had swollen full, packing the milk tightly into containers, loading them onto the empty cart, and pinning up a handwritten note.
I'm so sorry I haven't been able to deliver the milk on time lately, due to recent circumstances. I've filled your orders more than usual to make up for it.
The merchants would have had every right to cut ties with her — but the whole of Bilkenos had been in chaos until recently, so she hoped they would forgive her.
Greyson walked toward the reindeer.
[Okay, you guys, time for your feed…… oh.]
Several of the reindeer were pressed against the fence, trembling in fear. These were the same animals that had once followed her so faithfully — but the moment she drew near, they scattered and fled.
[Sorry. I smell like a corpse, don't I?]
With a wobbly smile, she lifted her arm to her nose and sniffed. Naturally, with her sense of smell long gone, there was nothing to smell at all.
While drawing water from the river, she had caught sight of her own reflection.
One eye was simply gone. Her once-white cheeks were rotted and pitted with holes. The bone of her shoulder showed starkly through the flesh.
A horrifying sight.
She couldn't bear to look at herself any longer, and turned her head away as if in rejection.
- The Undead are not yet beings who have fully died.
The voice of the necromancer boy who had saved her came back to her.
The boy had said: if she wanted to do this for her father, if she still carried guilt toward the North, then she should resolve it herself.
But she must not be mistaken about one thing.
I am not human anymore.
She could no longer go to the Grand Duke's castle on her milk rounds, or chat with the merchants who came to buy. She couldn't stop by Bilkenos with the day's earnings to buy bread, or gossip with friends her own age.
All she could do was quietly tend the farm in place of her demented father, and then vanish.
- When you have no more regrets, come talk to me then.
He had said that too.
And hearing him say it had set her heart at ease.
She was on her way to tidy the storeroom one last time, mop handle in hand, when —
[Oh.]
An old man had come shuffling out of the house.
Clouded eyes, hair gone white, limbs withered to sticks and bone. Above all, a man in the grip of severe dementia — unable to remember his own daughter, unable to remember even the three syllables of her name.
Greyson's father.
[Dad! What are you doing coming outside like……!]
Then she stopped dead in her tracks.
The words had come out of pure habit, and now she froze in shock.
She couldn't go near him. Not with a body like this.
The moment she turned her back —
"Greyson?"
Her footsteps halted as if rooted to the earth.
"Is that you, Greyson?"
With a trembling face, she looked back over her shoulder.
A rotted body. A decayed face. A frame of gaunt, exposed bone.
And yet.
"……Where've you been, off until now?"
To someone, she looked exactly the same.
[Dad.]
She stepped closer.
[Do you remember me? Do you remember my name?]
"Of course I do. I'm the one who… gave it to you."
[But you can't even remember your own name.]
"Names other folk give, I can't recall. But a name I gave… that I remember fine."
Her father smiled.
"Greyson. My daughter."
Her shoulders shook.
A broken body that could shed no tears.
And yet —
'Thank you. Thank you, Simon.'
Even in a body like this —
she was glad she had chosen to stay here.
'Thank you so much for giving me this chance.'
The next day.
Simon and Camibarez finished packing for departure and stepped out into the courtyard of the Grand Duke's castle.
There was none of the usual blizzard or bitter cold. Only a bright, clear blue sky.
Two Kizen henchmen in reversed robes stood in the courtyard, a teleportation circle already spread out before them.
"Thank you for your hard work, students."
"The transit preparations are complete."
The henchmen bowed. As Simon and Camibarez followed them toward the circle —
a crowd of northerners had gathered like rolling clouds to see the two of them off one last time.
'Wow.'
Simon looked around, beaming.
So many familiar faces, grown familiar over two weeks and a bit more. The warriors who did nothing but brawl every time they crossed paths at the tavern, the innkeeper couple, the generals of the North, even the young riders who'd raised hell in the war council chamber.
Every one of them was clapping and cheering.
"Safe travels, brother! Come visit the North any time!"
"It was an honor to fight beside you!"
It was a reception as different from his arrival in the Carlos North as night from day.
"Cami! Take care!"
"We'll never forget you!"
"Thank you! Your blood saved us!"
Camibarez, tears brimming, waved back at all the people she'd grown fond of. The burly, mustached warriors even ran up to hand her lunch boxes made entirely from the dishes she'd once praised as delicious.
A few steps further on, more familiar faces appeared: Butler Godric and Grand General Ganiro.
"Thank you for saving the North, Young Master. Lady Camibarez. We will never forget it."
Godric, usually so sly of face, grasped both their hands with glistening eyes and shook them earnestly. Simon exchanged farewells with him, then turned to Grand General Ganiro.
"How's your arm?"
"Haha! Perfectly fine. It's only an arm."
With the North liberated, the once-hysterical Ganiro had transformed into a man of brisk, refreshing temperament.
And at the very end, standing before the teleportation circle, the Grand Duke smirked and jerked her chin at him.
"Say a word, Grand General."
"Yes, ma'am! Everyone, hear me!"
Ganiro, thrilled, stepped forward and raised his arm high.
"The North was a forsaken land! No one would fight beside us! Our pleas for reinforcement were ignored, and the Overseer sought only to use us! So we gritted our teeth and swore — we needed no one's help, and we would fight with our strength alone! But—!"
He thrust his arm out, pointing at Simon and Camibarez.
"There were those who helped us! Not born in the North, not northern — complete strangers to our land, and still they staked their very lives to fight beside us!"
OOOOH!
The warriors roared in answer. Ganiro flung both arms wide.
"You are our friends! Whatever may happen when you return to Kizen, the North stands with you and you alone! We will gladly march out and fight for our friends, even if it means making enemies of the entire Continent!"
WAAAAAAAH!
The excited warriors' voices cracked and went hoarse.
Yeah! Yeah!
Let them all come!
Let's fight!
Everyone cheered. The Grand Duke smiled and nodded, and the warriors looked ready to go to war all over again.
Ganiro exhaled a mighty breath, drew the greatsword from his back, and lifted it high.
"The North—!"
Sreeeng! Sreeeng!
Weapons rose all across the courtyard. And not only the warriors'. The merchants raised their arrows, the women their daggers, and the riders hoisted the banners of the North high into the sky, letting them snap and stream in the wind.
"We will never forget the pride you have shown us!"
When the boisterous cheering finally died away, a silence remained.
All that was left were eyes full of trust.
And yet it felt like a perfect, complete silence.
Simon smiled and thrust his fist high into the sky.
Camibarez, overcome with emotion, raised her other hand while covering her mouth with one.
The henchmen, who understood none of it, could only stand there utterly bewildered.
'Th-the world… is this really that stubborn, impenetrable Carlos North?'
'……What on earth happened while we were gone?'
Simon and Camibarez finished their farewells and approached the Grand Duke one last time. She grinned crookedly and pulled both of them into a one-armed embrace around the shoulders.
"Forgive us young ones. The Grand General must be getting old — whenever he gets worked up, he turns into a sentimental fool."
"Ahaha."
"Thank you for coming to the North."
She said it in a warm voice.
"I hope we can meet again soon."
Both of them answered with all their might.
"Yes!"
The Grand Duke looked at Simon.
"Insolent brat."
"Yes, Grand Duke."
"Give my regards to your father. And—"
She hesitated for a moment, fidgeting, before finally giving an awkward, gruff little smile.
"C-could I write you letters?"
Simon's smile bloomed.
"I'll be waiting!"
The last day in the North.
Under a bright sky unlike the day they'd arrived, amid warm-hearted people and a storm of applause and cheering, Simon and Camibarez returned proudly to their school.
Back at Kizen.
Everything looked wonderful.
Right up until they returned to the Student Council Room.
"Where have you two BEEN?! We have an emergency!"
Sky-blue hair whipping, Mayrin shouted at the top of her lungs.
"Eisel has come back!"