The Professor You Chose (2)
The rumor that Knightly—valedictorian of the graduating class and daughter of the Duke of Toulouse—had been utterly demolished by the Combat Chief Professor spread through the academy in an instant. Along with it traveled talk of an absurd fifty-point bonus awarded in a single stroke, and of the Combat Chief Professor's deranged swordsmanship.
He had swung a wooden practice sword exactly twice, and Knightly had gone ugh-gack and slammed into the floor upside down. Of the countless students present, not a single one had clearly seen how the Combat Chief Professor had neutralized her.
And that was not even the real problem. He had done that to the daughter of one of the Empire's foremost high nobles? What kind of lunatic was this man? Did he have two lives to spare?
When the Combat Department professors heard the news, they could not contain their horror and dismay.
"Just when things were finally starting to run properly, he goes and causes a disaster like this!"
The dwarf Cazadar slammed his fist down on the desk in a rage, while Morton, the General Combat Professor, quietly dressed down Genev, who had been present at the scene.
"And just what were you doing there that you failed to restrain him?"
"How is a mere Subject Professor supposed to stop a Chief Professor?"
At Genev's reply, Anna, the Combat Horsemanship Professor, wrung both hands and teared up.
"It's over for the Combat Department.... If the Duke of Toulouse finds out his daughter got beaten and storms the academy..."
"Haha. You really think he'd go that far? This is a school. Students get hurt during practicals. It happens."
Waiver, king of optimism, laughed brightly, but most of the professors' faces were heavy with worry.
"Anything else would be fine—but you don't lay a hand on the actual noble-born kids..."
"I don't know. Just in case, I should probably get my resignation letter ready."
They had longed for practical combat training, but none of them had expected him to snap this hard. While the Combat Department professors sank into gloom, a lively discussion of the same incident was underway in the Theory Department—their polar opposite.
"Chief Professor, what's your take? Will House Toulouse take action?"
"If it's that insufferable House Toulouse of all places, they'll turn this academy upside down for certain."
In the Theory Department faculty office, Ismera, the Theory Chief Professor, sat in the seat of honor and listened quietly to her colleagues.
"Surely the Combat Department's blunder won't splash over onto us as well? Principal Kirlin is already in an extremely precarious position as it is."
"What on earth is the new Combat Chief even thinking?"
Dian, the Combat Chief Professor who had one day abruptly "materialized" at the academy.
A Combat Chief Professor ought to have been a seasoned warrior with a wealth of relevant experience—but this Dian fellow, no matter how one looked at him, was a pale, unassuming young man. Based on appearance alone, he would have been better suited as a Theory Department professor, or perhaps a librarian in the academy library.
The Theory professors had investigated his background from every possible angle, yet nothing of substance had turned up. And that, in itself, was strange.
Whether he was impressive or humble, something should have surfaced. That was how these things worked. And yet, for some reason, there was no way of knowing what Dian had done in the past.
As a result, the Theory professors could only speculate that Dian might be a former imperial special operative. People of that sort always were like that.
Ismera, however, had used her own connections to obtain a scrap of information about him. He had belonged to one of the many special task units formed during the Four-Year War, and had distinguished himself with extraordinary merit.
She did not know the exact nature of his achievements, but at the very least, it was enough that he could thrash the daughter of House Toulouse with a wooden sword in front of everyone and still look perfectly at ease. Or perhaps he simply had no idea what kind of house the Toulouse ducal family actually was.
"One thing is certain."
The moment Ismera opened her mouth, the professors all fell silent and fixed their eyes on her.
"The place we should be watching right now is not House Toulouse. It is the Imperial Palace."
The professors let out low murmurs of admiration and nodded.
"Indeed. It is an open secret that the Imperial Palace wants Principal Kirlin gone. The Combat Chief Professor running wild like that is entirely because Principal Kirlin approved it—so the Palace may well seize this as an opportunity."
"Judging by the atmosphere so far, even if House Toulouse doesn't make an issue of it, the Palace might deliberately blow this up and take the Principal's head. And then, of course, the successor would be..."
The professors looked at Ismera with expressions full of expectation, but she offered no reply—only an inscrutable, faint smile.
Platinum-blonde hair like a field of ripe barley, eyes the green of emeralds, and long, tapering ears. A dazzling beauty.
Ismera was an elf. After the forest she had lived in was burned to nothing by the Demon King's army, she had migrated to human society with the surviving members of her clan and become a professor at the academy—an unusual history.
Like elves in general, she was brilliant; in a mere ten years she had earned a High Master's Degree and been selected as Chief Professor of the newly established Special Operations Academy. She was a being of an entirely different caliber from Kirlin, the dark elf who had been parachuted in by the Emperor.
Perhaps for that reason, Kirlin found Ismera every bit as intimidating as the Second Princess.
The previous Combat Chief had fled, leaving the post vacant, which made the Theory Chief Professor the Principal's deputy. And as luck would have it, Ismera was a pureblood elf who stood in stark contrast to Kirlin, with a formidable record to match.
Kirlin was no fool, and she was doing everything in her power not to get dismissed—but one way or another, she could not escape being compared to Ismera.
And so the Theory Department professors were currently entertaining a rather hopeful chain of thought: if the Imperial Palace cut Kirlin, would Ismera not fill that vacancy? And if Ismera's seat then opened up, might one of them rise into it?
"Please refrain from any rash action. This matter is entirely for the Principal and the Combat Chief Professor to address. It is not an affair for our Theory Department to debate."
With an attitude that made it impossible to tell what she was really thinking, Ismera shut down the professors' excited speculation.
"That concludes the morning meeting. Now, everyone, for today as well..."
"Chief Professor! Chief Professor!"
Just as Ismera was rising from her seat, a Teaching Assistant from the Theory Department burst in, gasping for breath.
"It's chaos out there! The Duke of Toulouse is coming to the academy!"
While the Combat and Theory Department professors were reacting in opposite ways—
"I'm done for..."
In the Principal's office, Kirlin sat huddled, her already dark skin looking even darker, muttering to herself.
Her signature was on the final approval line of the Combat Department's training reform proposal. If House Toulouse decided to make an issue of this, she would have to bear full responsibility.
House Toulouse was a great family that wielded enormous influence even in the Empire's Noble Council. If a house like that raised its voice, the Imperial Palace—which had been watching for just such an opportunity—would pretend it had no choice and cut Kirlin. And then she would have to return to her clan's forest and face her father.
Her clan had staked its very fate on betraying the Demon King's army and siding with humanity. When the war miraculously ended in a victory for humanity, the clan was instantly transformed into the Emperor's lifesavers.
Her father had sent Kirlin to the Imperial Public Academy to study so the clan could be fully incorporated into the Empire, and had then installed her as Principal of the Special Operations Academy.
Rather than render all her father's efforts meaningless and go back to the forest, she would be better off killing herself right here...
"P-Principal...!"
She was in the throes of agonizing indecision, staring at a dagger she had pulled from her sleeve, when the Chief Administrator burst in, his face ashen.
"Eek!? What are you doing? This is no time to be polishing a concealed blade!"
Scolding Kirlin, who was still holding the dagger, the Chief Administrator flailed both arms.
"The Duke of Toulouse is on his way to the academy! Ah, Principal!"
Seeing Kirlin foam at the mouth and topple over backward, the Chief Administrator screamed.
Having been summoned without warning, I headed out to the academy's main gate, where the professors had already gathered.
At the very front stood Principal Kirlin and Theory Chief Professor Ismera.
"This way, Combat Chief."
Spotting me, Ismera pointed to the space beside her, wearing the uniquely benevolent and beautiful smile of an elf.
"Good morning, Theory Chief. But... are you all right, Principal?"
"I-I-I'll, be fine... I think...?"
Unlike Ismera, who was as composed as mist, Principal Kirlin was trembling as if she might faint at any moment.
Come to think of it, there was nothing strange about the two of them reacting so differently.
Kirlin was terrified of the Second Princess, but Professor Ismera had no particular connection to her. And as for the Duke of Toulouse, he was probably coming because of the incident in armed combat class where I had knocked Knightly flat.
That, too, had nothing to do with Professor Ismera, so she was watching it like someone else's problem. But Kirlin was different. She would have to personally weather both the Second Princess and Toulouse.
And of all things, it was not just one of them—both were bearing down on her at once. It would not have been the least bit strange if she passed out on the spot.
"Carriage in sight!"
At the gate sentry's shout, a single carriage could be seen in the distance, kicking up a cloud of dust as it raced toward us.
"It's the Duke of Toulouse!"
"Ugh..."
Kirlin clamped a hand over her mouth as if she might burst into tears at any second, and Professor Ismera patted her on the back, telling her not to worry so much.
That was when I caught it—a smile spreading across Ismera's lips. It was a completely different feeling from the kindly smile she had shown me earlier. It was like... like... a sneer.
But everyone else was watching the Duke's approaching carriage, so I was the only one who saw that fleeting smile. I would have to remember that.
The carriage that had just passed through the main gate slammed to a halt in front of the faculty. The door opened, and a middle-aged man strode down. The Duke of Toulouse.
"Principal Kirlin!"
At the Duke of Toulouse's furious roar, poor Principal Kirlin staggered and ended up leaning against Ismera's shoulder.
"You said you'd teach our girl well—and now this! What in the world is going on? Which lunatic beat a young lady like that?!"
"Th-that's..."
I could not stand watching Kirlin tremble, so I stepped in front of the Duke and called out.
"Commander! It's been a long time!"
The Duke of Toulouse turned his gaze to me, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"Wha—?! You—you! Lieutenant Dian?!"
"That's right!"
"What the hell?! What are you doing here?!"
"I could say the same, sir. I never imagined I'd run into you here either, Commander."
"You little shit! You vanished all of a sudden—I thought you were dead!"
The Duke broke into a huge grin and pulled me into a fierce embrace.
What on earth is this?
Watching the Duke and the Combat Chief suddenly hugging each other, Ismera felt a profound sense of bewilderment.
She had been certain—certain—that he would crush the Principal and the Combat Chief together...
