Then Let's Play
"All right. Then let's play."
When the brief comfort had run its course, Cecilia asked Cheon Hwi the question that had been waiting.
Surely, she thought, simply telling his disciples a story this heavy would be a comfort to him in itself.
"…And what sort of good tale would that be, that I should tell it?"
But Cheon Hwi refused her.
"The story would pass me by and leave nothing but wounds on them as well. And who, besides, would believe a tale of everyone dying and being born again?"
"Even so…."
"Speak no more of it."
"…."
"The matter is already settled. Unless the disciples ask of their own accord, there is nothing to tell."
"…Yes."
Cecilia could not speak of it on her own authority. However much she had heard, however deeply she sympathized, she was still an outsider. The sweetest comfort, the kindest concern, could be hell to the one it was meant for. She knew that plain truth, and so she could say nothing further.
To Cecilia, left with no choice but to hold her tongue, Cheon Hwi spoke as if the sorrow of a moment ago had never touched him, smiling in his usual way.
"The night has grown late. You ought to go in."
"Yes…."
She could only give that short answer, and return to the dormitory.
I want to tell them.
She turned the wish over and over inside herself.
How much you regretted. How badly you want to keep them safe….
But she could not say it. A sincerity the person concerned had never permitted was a wound to someone, however good the intent that offered it.
Cecilia gazed at the candle, closed her eyes, and prayed for a long while. At the end of the prayer she murmured, very quietly,
"…Please. Let them all be happy."
She wished, with all her heart, for Cheon Hwi's happiness.
After the disciples' wish had been granted, and the Saintess's as well, time moved on, and at last a day came with neither classes nor training.
Had the disciples finally been given a free day after so long?
No. There were no classes and no training, and still they could hardly be called free. Today was the day of the Academy's first practical exam.
"You told me all about the written exam beforehand. Why say nothing of the practical?"
Faced with a first practical he had never sat, Cheon Hwi was, for a moment, simply incredulous. He had heard no end of the written test, yet the practical had stayed perfectly peaceful right up to the day itself. Unable to make sense of it, he asked—and the answer that came back was a sight to behold.
"The practical's easy!"
"I'm taking first this time."
Confidence was a good thing. It was, without question, a good thing.
"You might have told me!"
He had not heard a single word of it. However sure of the practical one might be, there was a world of difference between knowing an exam existed and not knowing.
To Cheon Hwi, airing that complaint, Hyeon explained.
"The practical changes every time, so even if you know about it, there's nothing you can do."
"Hm?"
According to her, the practical was not like the written exam. It was not taken by the Academy as a whole, but by each faculty. And where the written exam came once every three months, the practical came twice in the same span. It was built toward real combat, she said, so not knowing hardly mattered.
"Mm…. All right."
Then he could accept it.
"Attention!"
Who was that?
He looked toward the voice and found a man standing there.
Thirty or so? Young, for a professor. And yet the professor of the Swordsmanship Faculty was definitely a man named Lawrence.
"To keep the exam as fair as possible, the supervising professors come from other faculties."
It was Hyeon who answered the question.
So that is why a different professor came. More to the point—what is the exam?
The moment Cheon Hwi's curiosity stirred, the professor was already telling them.
"This practical for the Swordsmanship Faculty is an escort!"
"An escort?"
"Escort? He didn't misspeak, did he?"
"Even for the Swordsmanship Faculty, an escort mission…."
At the professor's words, the crowd began to stir.
"Quiet, all of you! Do not look down on escort work."
At last, the man had said something right. One of the thoughts beginners so often nursed was contempt for escorting. The more skill they possessed, the more they wanted to fight at the front. They had no love for guarding someone from behind.
And in a celebrated academy where the Swordsmanship Faculty is looked down upon, that attitude fits all too well.
"From this moment, you will escort a person designated by the Academy."
"What happens if we fail?"
"Hm. A fine question. Fail, and you are expelled."
"…Pardon?"
"Why ask what ought to be obvious? This is the first exam we have conducted in cooperation with outside parties. Does Elysia Academy look so lax to you that we would drag about students who cannot even manage an escort?"
"Ah—no, sir."
The student who had asked seemed to decide the point was fair. He ducked his head at once and shut his mouth.
"If there are no further questions, I will finish the explanation."
The professor confirmed that no other student meant to speak, and went on.
"First. You will gather into a team and carry out the escort. The higher your practical standing, the harder the assignment, so you would do well to team with someone of similar rank."
True enough. Set a low-ranked student beside a high one, and neither would come away with a decent score.
"Second. The escort holds for three days. In that time, your route and your actions must follow the person you are guarding, and no one else."
That much was obvious.
"Third, and last: every one of you must survive. The moment an escort dies, the one they guard dies with them. The survival of all is the final mark."
Not so difficult a set of conditions. All three belonged by nature to any escort; the difficulty was not especially high. The thing to watch most carefully was the target, wasn't it.
"You have five minutes. Form your teams. No more than two."
"Huh?"
Then what about him?
The disciples would be on the same team without question. If the first- and second-ranked in the practical did not pair together, who would?
But the problem was him. He had never sat a practical, so no record would exist—yet there was every chance word had already spread that he had laid a professor flat.
"I'll have to go it alone."
Honestly, it hardly mattered. At the disciples' present level, taking the exam beside him would only mean two charges to protect instead of one. Alone might even be better.
"What are you going to do?"
"Go alone, I expect. You two form the team."
"Will you be all right?"
"It is settled. At your level, you are not ready."
However strong they were for their years, they still did not match him. That was a difference of experience, beyond mere skill. This practical would have to be the real combat they faced without him.
An academy this famous—surely they would not drive students to their deaths?
Even if they pushed them that far, there would be measures in place. To take ignorant babes who knew nothing and send them out escorting with no plan at all was sheer madness.
"Once your teams are formed, put these bracelets on. There is a button on the underside. Press it, and the Academy's professors will come at once. If you are in danger, press it immediately."
There. Just as he had thought.
"If anything dangerous happens, do not hesitate. Press it."
"You don't have to tell us. We know our lives matter, thanks."
However important an Academy exam might be, nothing outweighed a life. Fortunately, the disciples seemed to know it.
"Then come forward as you have teamed, and take your bracelets."
"Hm. Hyeon, Seol—Team One. Your escort target is a merchant caravan."
Not a person. A company. So that was why they had called the difficulty high.
The disciples took their bracelets, and the other students followed in turn.
Not a single student going alone.
Well. It was a task that grew easier when strength was joined. There was no profit in doing it by oneself.
"I ought to get mine as well…."
Cheon Hwi had only just started forward when a bright voice rang out ahead of him.
"I'll do it alone!"
Alone—how spirited. Let me see the face.
Perhaps it was because, in the life before, he had raised a bold disciple overflowing with just that confidence. He wanted to see the face, if nothing else.
She resembles Cheong.
Hair of a deep blue verging on indigo, the very color of that name; a small frame that could not hide its boldness; a cute, lively face to match. It called up the disciple of his former life.
She truly does resemble Cheong— wait. That is Cheong!
"Cheong? Is that you?"
It could not be. Thinking it a trick of the eye, he asked anyway.
"Cheong is my name, yes…. Do you know me?"
He had not guessed wrong.
"Know you? Far more than merely know you."
He even knew where she had hidden her emergency coin behind her master's back, the brat.
"I'll say this now—I don't need a team. I'm doing it alone."
"Worry not. I mean to go alone as well. Only, when this practical is finished, might we speak once?"
He had no intention of sitting the exam with this Cheong in the first place. The gap in skill was wide, and the moment they worked together the results would cease to be fair. But he had found his disciple. He could not simply send her off, and so he had asked to meet once the exam was done—
"I'm not looking to get a boyfriend right now."
He had not expected that answer. Then again, Cheong had always been confident in her own looks. Objectively speaking, she was pretty.
"Nor have I any interest in you of that sort."
Pretty or not, a master was hardly going to look at his disciple that way.
"Mm… fine, for now. I can talk, at least."
"You have my thanks. Then, when the exam is over, could you come this way?"
"I never said it would be free."
This little— disciple of his?
Already trying to fleece her master?
"Hah…."
Bear it. He was the one who needed this.
"R-right. What would you have me give?"
"Mm…. Lady Seol hasn't been coming to class lately. Can you find out why?"
"She is training under me. You did not know?"
"What…?"
Had the professor not said? He had been certain the man had told them. Well, no matter.
"She is training under m—"
"And who are you! Sitting in on class with Lady Seol and Lady Hyeon!"
Cheong, as if she had been sorely wronged, seized him by the collar and shook him while she laid into him.
And what business is that of yours….
"Hey, you there! Get moving on that escort!"
"Ugh…. You and me, later! Run, and I won't forgive you!"
With that, Cheong bolted toward the professor.
Well. No harm done, he supposed. Lively as ever—then and now alike.
"Last is Cheon Hwi. That would be you?"
"Yes. Before that—do you know of me?"
"I do. The fellow who persuaded a professor and had his classes waived the moment he enrolled. The unknown one teaching Hyeon and Seol, first and second of the Swordsmanship Faculty."
So the matter of persuading a professor had spread wide among the faculty.
"A man like you will draw the most troublesome target in this exam."
Cheon Hwi smiled, small.
The most troublesome? Let me see if it is worth the anticipation.
The professor indicated a carriage with a flick of his hand.
Someone stepped down from it, unhurried. Immaculate white sacerdotal vestments. Radiant platinum-blonde hair. A small necklace etched with an ornate pattern.
The moment he saw her, Cheon Hwi murmured.
"…Cecilia?"
Cecilia looked at him with faintly startled eyes, and quietly opened her mouth.
"…I leave myself in your care, Sir Cheon Hwi."
"Last of all, Cheon Hwi. Your escort target is the Saintess."
"What?"
Did she not sit the practical herself? Then why was she among the Swordsmanship Faculty's escort targets?
For Cecilia and for Cheon Hwi alike, the meeting bred questions far more than welcome.
"Ah… ought I to say it is good to see you? It has been some time."
"It has. We haven't met at all of late."
"Surely my tale of the past is not what made it so?"
One could say that he and Cecilia were close. But there was the matter of time. However familiar they had grown, they had known each other less than a week; it was a heavy story to have told so soon. He asked with that in mind, and fortunately Cecilia said that was not the reason.
"It isn't! I only went back to the Church, to prepare for this practical."
"So that was it."
Come to think of it, the Divine Faculty—packed to bursting every day—had stood empty. Not Cecilia alone, then. The whole faculty had been away.
"Setting that aside, why are you an escort target?"
Saintess of the age. Third in all the Academy. First of the Divine Faculty. He could agree she required a guard. But at that level, was this not a matter for a dedicated escort from the Church or the Academy, rather than a student?
"Well, you see…."
"Speak freely."
"There is word that the Demon King has appeared."
"The Demon King?"
He had heard of the creature: a madman bent on drowning the world in darkness and steeping it in evil. But what did the Demon King have to do with escorting the Saintess?
"From the Church's standpoint, if you—the Singularity, Sir Cheon Hwi—were to join hands with the Demon King, it would go ill for us. I was asked to watch you for as long as you were escorting me."
"And you are permitted to say such a thing?"
However much she trusted him, this was not a thing to pass on. From a Saintess, least of all. And yet she was telling him, because she believed in him.
Still young.
Fortunate, that the Heavenly Demon of his past life had left him sick to the bone at anything of the demonic. Had it been anyone else, this would have been dangerous indeed.
"Henceforth, even if you trust them, do not say such things."
"I say it only because it is you."
"Fine words. So—how far am I to guard you? What needs doing?"
"Nothing."
"What?"
Even to that, Cecilia answered in a bright voice.
"For three days, Sir Cheon Hwi, you only have to play with me!"
At his age, play with a child a good fifty years his junior?
Hah… this is why one must not get tangled up with children.
Even so, letting fall a complaint that was hardly a complaint, he held out his hand toward the Saintess.
"Very well. Then let us play."
Cecilia startled, just a little—then soon took his hand, light and small.
And so their escort of three days began, feeling, somehow, nothing like a proper exam.
But neither of them then—no, no one in the Academy—knew that something very great was about to happen.