Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Ashen Dawn Society (2)
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A short while later.
After parting ways with Judith, I headed to the shooting range that only I used out of the entire academy.
-Creak.
The shooting range, set up on one side of the rear garden, had an entrance blocked by a wooden fence about waist-high, which swung open and shut. Aside from that, it was essentially out in the open.
"I wonder when they'll show up. Hope I can focus."
The range was laid with grass, tucked away in a remote spot with mountains behind the targets.
Not only was it noisy, but given the nature of bullets that couldn't be stopped midway, it had to be pointed in a direction where no one ever passed through. That was how it ended up like this.
"Arma Cruise, preparing to shoot! No pedestrians. Targets checked, all clear."
I deliberately announced it loudly while inspecting the interior of the range.
It was a signal that shooting practice was about to begin.
Even though this was the edge of the rear garden closest to the mountains, and cadets rarely came through here, it was to prevent any potential accidents.
-Pweeet!
Then I put my fingers to my lips and whistled.
In response, from afar came the rapid patter of paws pounding the ground.
"Woof! Woof!"
"Shh! Cookie, sit!"
"Woof woof woof!"
What appeared was Cookie, the mongrel of hunting dog lineage I'd trained for shooting practice.
Cookie, brimming with excitement, butted my waist with a few jumps before promptly rolling onto its back.
"I said sit... Fine, it's been a while, hasn't it? Happy to see me?"
Its large, floppy triangular ears, golden fur, and black eyes made it look just like a chocolate chip cookie—hence the name. Whether because of the name or not, it was far too innocent for a hunting dog.
Cookie had two roles.
It would step on the button of the clay pigeon launcher to send disks flying, or bark loudly if any cadets passed by to signal me.
Normally managed by the academy's professional breeders in the kennel, it had followed me devotedly ever since I'd handled its training from puppyhood.
"Over 25kg and you still act like a baby?"
After rolling around on the ground for a good while, Cookie pawed at my thigh and whined.
Its whole-body display of affection was endearing in its own way, so I stroked behind its ears a few times before getting into training.
-Click.
From the wooden case I opened came not the compact pistol I carried for self-defense, but a pair of muzzleloaders with barrels about a foot and a half long.
Originally a gentleman's dueling pair, I used them for major class lessons.
"Cookie. Ready!"
I'd get it focused with a treat, give the signal, and Cookie would dash to the launcher beside the targets and step on the pedal.
I'd immediately shove my left hand into my pants pocket and extend my arm straight toward the target.
Cookie waited until I was in position, then stepped on the pedal.
Once the launcher fired the disk,
-Bang!
One of my dynamic training drills was to load the powder-charged gun and hit the flying disk.
Just a dozen or so years ago, the basics of shooting involved downing birds instead of disks. But there was no need to shoot birds anymore, and above all, it was too cruel, so this method took over.
"Good job."
"Huff huff huff!"
Cookie, back after stepping on the pedal, scarfed down its treat and flopped over.
"What, don't wanna?"
Training with animals meant accommodating their whims too, so I switched from disks to stationary targets.
-Bang!
The training guns were single-shot, requiring a reload after each fire.
I put five rounds into each of two targets for ten total, then walked toward the third.
That was when it happened.
"Woof!"
Cookie, sprawled out, let out a big bark.
Someone was approaching.
"Huff huff! Woof!"
"Ah, damn. Didn't want to break my focus."
"...Cadet Cruise."
Tall and sturdy despite not being a warrior.
Rose-pink hair, burning like flames, neatly trimmed near the nape.
The man approaching with a beaming smile—where only half his sky-blue eyes showed—was Dylan, dorm captain of the Wooden Cross Class.
His angular jaw and thick brows fully brought out the charm of his handsome face.
"Just call me Dylan casually. Anyway, sorry about that."
"Then call me casually too. And I was planning to wrap up training around now anyway."
Of course it was a lie, but I wasn't callous enough to keep shooting knowing Dylan was waiting.
He probably knew that to some extent.
And yet he could push forward like this—that brazenness was one of Dylan's strengths.
I quickly disassembled the guns using the maintenance tools in the case, packed them away, and locked it.
As I recorded the spent rounds and cleared the disks, Dylan's gaze clung persistently to me.
'I wonder what he knows.'
Dylan waited, leaning casually against the fence.
I ignored his stare with composure and whistled for Cookie, who was still begging for pets from him.
"Cookie, home."
"Whine..."
"No. Go home."
Fresh out of the kennel, Cookie seemed reluctant to leave, eyes welling up as its whole body trembled.
Cute, but indulging this would spoil it.
"You'll see me again after two nights. Right?"
"Kiiing—"
I tossed it a few treats.
One last whistle and a shooing gesture, and the clever Cookie—stuffed full—bolted back to the kennel without further fuss.
Now it was just Dylan and me.
"I got the invitation."
"Might've caught you off guard."
"A bit."
I pulled the invitation from Dylan out of my pocket and unfolded it.
"Asking if I'm into classics... Yeah, pretty sudden."
Dylan, eyes still fixed on me, nodded with an 'I get it' expression.
I packed the case, aligning everything precisely with my fingertips.
In the meantime, a soft chuckle came from behind me.
"Haha... Seems I made you tense for no reason. Bad approach on my part. Sorry."
"..."
When I didn't reply, Dylan peeled away from the fence and stepped a bit closer.
"Looking for club activity partners—guess I rushed it. Nice pistols, by the way. First time seeing dueling ones up close."
"You can try. It's registered to me as custodian, but it's school equipment, so anyone can use it."
Truth be told, that was bravado.
Handing a gun to an unknown cadet when alone? Not smart.
But I didn't want to show I was wary of him.
Reading my intent, Dylan nodded and picked up the spare from the case.
"First time handling one, so mind explaining?"
"Sure. Loading's dangerous, so I'll do it."
I half-cocked the hammer, poured powder into the barrel.
Then wrapped the bullet in a round cloth patch about a knuckle wide, rammed it home with the long rod.
Sprinkled a bit more powder on the pan, closed the frizzen, and handed it over.
"Once the hammer's fully cocked, never point the muzzle at anyone."
"Hmm."
Dylan took it, extended his arm toward a distant target.
"..."
But oddly, he froze there, doing nothing.
Did I explain wrong? As I opened my mouth to clarify, he switched hands on the gun and wiped his palm on his pants.
His healthy cheeks had paled noticeably too.
"Somehow tense. Feels like I'll mess up. Won't show off."
He handed the loaded gun back.
I nodded, fired at a far target to unload it.
-Bang!
"Nowadays there are guns that don't need powder, but shooting sports still use these single-shots."
"Classic."
"Not a rapid-fire contest."
As I set the gun down, I glanced over Dylan's face, color returning, then repacked it.
'Shouldn't have sent Cookie home.'
If I'd known it'd get this tense, I could've kept it to lighten the mood.
A moment of regret.
Then, a calm voice shattered the tension.
"This is the shooting range. Currently in use solely by shooting major cadet Arma Cruise."
"Ah, so that loud bang earlier was gunfire."
"Yes. But practice seems done now. Trained assistance dog blocks other cadets when Cruise is training."
"Ahh, I see..."
A voice smooth like rolling jade beads, a familiar mid-low feminine tone.
The voices came from beyond the fence.
'Judith?'
Judith was escorting a petite, delicate young lady.
The girl, face veiled not just by parasol and bonnet but also white lace, was clearly a nobleman's daughter.
From beyond the fence, Judith mouthed 'See you later' and vanished.
"Who's that lady?"
"Not a prospective student, I think. Outsider."
Dylan remarked, watching Judith and her charge depart.
As someone who knew most academy folk, his intel was spot-on.
Judith apparently couldn't talk today.
-Click.
As I locked the case with both guns, Dylan jumped in.
"Before we get into the real talk, mind moving somewhere with me?"
'Finally, the main point.'
I undid the ribbon in my bound hair and nodded.
Following the now flushed Dylan led to the northern annex where faculty offices clustered.
***
-Step step.
We walked silently through the old annex, paneled floor to ceiling in wood.
Since I'd followed wordlessly to the annex, Dylan seemed even more elated, whistling lightly with bouncy steps.
'What's supposed to be here?'
The northern annex had once been prep rooms for professors, but with west and east rebuilt, it was practically abandoned.
Still part of the Royal Academy, so basic upkeep remained, but no reason for cadets to wander in.
"You look curious."
"Yeah. How much farther first, Dylan?"
"As much as it takes!"
Dylan overtook me, stopped ten paces ahead at a wooden door adorned with gold-painted grapevines and cherub carvings.
"Right here!"
"..."
It was a space in appallingly bad taste.
A reddish wooden building with gaudy gold grapes and baby angels.
Wary of brushing the decorations, I stood before the door with a slightly queasy look.
"And—welcome to the Classical Literature Club, the Ashen Dawn Society!"
-Creak!
The heavy wooden door swung open, and the first thing that caught my eye was...
A scrawny boy, face-planted on a book spread open on the table, passed out.