Chapter 112
Chapter 112
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: Teachings for the Disciple (3)
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Hoana Tule.
Yeomyeong didn’t know much about her.
That was only natural. She was a figure from a bygone era, one who had retired before even a dung beetle learned to sweep.
The only reason he even recognized her face was because he’d seen her a few times in the war documentaries he enjoyed watching.
The fundamentalists’ nightmare, Redox’s gun, and the former (former?) vice captain of the Holy Knight Order who had held her post for half a century.
Even though this wasn’t the first time he’d met someone he’d only seen on TV, Yeomyeong found himself tensing up without realizing it.
‘…She’s not going to swing a weapon at me out of nowhere like Morine, is she?’
As cautious as he was, she wouldn’t do that in the academy… but you never knew.
Yeomyeong carefully drew up his mana before stepping toward Hoana and the Saintess.
Not long after, the Saintess spotted him and flinched in surprise, her mouth falling open.
“…Huh?”
She quickly looked away as if nothing had happened, but no superhuman would miss such an obvious reaction.
“Saintess? What’s wrong?”
Hoana stopped in her tracks and turned her head in the direction the Saintess had been looking.
The direction of the men’s dormitory, where the morning sunlight slanted.
There, a young man was walking toward them, the sun at his back.
He wasn’t turning his head or anything—just walking straight down the path, clearly heading right for the Saintess.
“Could it be… that’s the friend you mentioned?”
It was less a question born of ignorance and more one seeking confirmation. The Saintess just pouted her lips and said nothing.
In truth, she didn’t need to say a word. As he drew closer, her heartbeat quickened.
A reaction more telling than a hundred words.
Hoana released the hand she’d been holding the Saintess with and spoke in a gentle tone.
“…He’s a handsome young man. Better looking in person than on the news.”
“…”
“It might sound like the ramblings of an old woman, but he reminds me exactly of your father when he was young…”
That was when the Saintess straightened up and cut her off.
“What are you talking about? Yeomyeong’s way better than Dad.”
“…I meant he has a similar vibe.”
“He doesn’t even have that.”
She denied it again, dead serious this time. It was so unlike the Saintess that Hoana opened and closed her mouth, at a loss for words.
…This was why raising daughters was pointless.
Hoana sent silent condolences to her poor junior in her heart before clearing her throat softly.
“Ahem. Now that you mention it, that young man has unusual eye color… Is he one of ours, by any chance?”
A question anyone who saw Yeomyeong’s eyes would think of.
Even beyond the dimensional gates, where mana influenced all sorts of varied iris colors, golden eyes weren’t common.
“That’s…”
As the Saintess pondered how to answer, a reply came from an unexpected direction.
“…No. I’m from Earth.”
It was Yeomyeong, who had approached right up to them. Hoana turned to him and responded.
“Then, are you perhaps mixed?”
“…I’m not sure. I’ve never met my parents.”
A calm confession.
Hoana stared at him for a moment to mask her awkwardness before suddenly extending her hand to him.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Hoana Tule, the new special instructor at the academy.”
Her tone was so polite it was hard to believe she was addressing a much younger junior.
Yeomyeong, who had been bracing for a sudden blade attack, swallowed a sigh without realizing it.
‘…Is she actually normal?’
It was still too early to let his guard down, but it was about time he met a normal(?) religious figure.
Yeomyeong shook Hoana’s hand and replied.
“…First-year at the academy, Cheon Yeomyeong. It’s an honor to meet Redox’s gun.”
A polite but not servile greeting.
Perhaps pleased by Yeomyeong’s demeanor, a smile spread across Hoana’s wrinkled lips as she shook his hand.
“This is quite the coincidence. Did you come out to meet the Saintess after spotting her?”
“Not exactly. It’s just chance. I saw her while out for my morning exercise…”
“Good timing, then. Saved me from waiting out front of the dormitory.”
A blatant admission that she had come to the men’s dormitory specifically to meet him.
‘…So it was about the Saintess after all. What the hell did she do?’
Yeomyeong glanced sideways at the Saintess standing behind Hoana, his eyes full of suspicion.
In response, the Saintess started making strange hand gestures at him.
They looked like sign language… but since Yeomyeong didn’t know how to read it, he simply ignored her.
Soon after, Hoana placed a hand on her hip and spoke.
“Cheon Yeomyeong. Since we’ve run into each other, allow me to make a direct proposal.”
“…”
“Would you become my disciple for this special class?”
Yeomyeong’s eyes narrowed at the sudden offer.
A Holy Knight showing up out of the blue to ask him to be her disciple, of all people.
Looking on the bright side, it wasn’t all that strange.
Anyone would covet the achievements and talents he’d shown so far. The Holy Sword itself had tried to take him as a disciple.
But… judging from the Saintess frantically signaling behind her, Hoana Tule seemed to have other reasons.
“…May I ask why you’re making this offer to me?”
Before answering, Hoana glanced back and forth between Yeomyeong and the Saintess.
The Saintess, who had been signaling desperately, stopped and hid her hands behind her back.
Fortunately—or unfortunately—Hoana didn’t seem to have noticed the sign language.
“Cheon Yeomyeong. To be frank, the reason I came to the academy is to guard the Saintess. The special class is just a pretext.”
“…”
“But… what does the Saintess do but refuse my class? Do you have any guess as to why?”
“Hoana! Wait…!”
The Saintess tried to butt into the conversation late, but Hoana’s words came a beat faster.
“She says taking classes with her friend is more important than my protection.”
***
‘…What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’
Yeomyeong, who had been on high alert, felt the tension drain from him.
He’d thought some huge misunderstanding was at play, but it was just the Saintess throwing a tantrum?
‘…What is this.’
Yeomyeong held back from scolding her.
What was up with her lately? Back in Manchuria, she’d seemed reliable even if a bit odd.
Actually, thinking about it, she’d been pretty weird even then. Yeomyeong rubbed his brow for a moment before politely stating his refusal.
“I appreciate the offer, but… I already signed up for classes. I can’t back out just because of the Saintess.”
No sooner had he finished than a deep sigh escaped the Saintess’s lips.
It was so profound he couldn’t tell if it was relief or disappointment.
Ignoring the sigh, Hoana spoke.
“Cheon Yeomyeong, couldn’t you reconsider?”
“…I’m sorry.”
“If you’re worried I won’t take the class seriously, that’s a misunderstandi—”
“No, it’s not that. I just think the Saintess should drop her stubbornness this time.”
“Is that your personal opinion? Or…”
“As a friend.”
With that, Yeomyeong subtly checked Hoana’s expression.
Despite being rejected by someone so much her junior, there was no disappointment or anger on her face.
“…I made a rude request to humor the Saintess’s whims. My apologies.”
She bowed her head to Yeomyeong in apology instead.
Facing such mature conduct for the first time in a while, Yeomyeong felt a faint sense of relief.
“It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize, Instructor.”
It was a relief. Not everyone around the Saintess was weird.
Thinking about it, it made sense.
It was just her mother and Korbus that Yeomyeong had met who were particularly strange.
The adults around the Saintess were mostly priests who served the Five Gods.
Pious, normal, upright adults.
Maybe the Saintess had been acting weird lately because she’d been away from those adults for too long?
With that thought, Yeomyeong looked up again.
The Saintess was fidgeting with her fingers, while Hoana appeared deep in thought.
“If there’s nothing more, I’ll head back to the dormitory.”
Yeomyeong bowed lightly to Hoana as he spoke.
Seemingly with no more to say, Hoana nodded back lightly.
“May the Red God bless your struggles.”
With that short farewell, Yeomyeong turned away.
At that moment, the hesitant Saintess seemed to realize something, snapped her head up, and called after him.
“Wait, Yeomyeong! Hold on!”
“…What now?”
“You remember, right? The promise we made in the shelter.”
“Promise?”
“You remember?”
He did. How could he forget the promise he’d made in the shelter to draw out the Saintess’s prophecy?
The promise to grant one of her requests unconditionally.
Bringing it up now meant…
Yeomyeong suppressed the urge to flick her forehead and asked.
“You’re not… trying to use it now, are you?”
“Yeah! Right now.”
The Saintess thrust out her modest chest proudly. And as he’d expected, an absurd request followed.
“My request is simple. Convince Hoana a bit.”
Convince her? Ask the specially dispatched guard from the Holy Kingdom not to protect the Saintess?
Yeomyeong clamped his mouth shut and checked Hoana’s face.
As expected, she was an adult. Hoana merely gave a small wry smile, betraying no other emotion.
To cast aside someone like that and seek another special instructor.
Unlike him or Seti, who had their own circumstances, he couldn’t understand the Saintess’s thinking.
‘Friends, friends…’
Yeomyeong swallowed a sigh and strode right up to the Saintess. And…
Thwack!
He flicked her forehead. Caught off guard by the sudden attack, the Saintess clutched her forehead and staggered.
Yeomyeong steadied her by grabbing her shoulder before speaking calmly.
“Saintess. That was friendly advice.”
“You, you…!”
“And one more bit of friendly advice: don’t waste a precious request on something stupid.”
“Stu, stupid? Do you know what resolve I had to…?”
“Honestly, that’s me softening it a lot. You know that, right?”
Yeomyeong was about to add another jab, but the Saintess got there first, writing something on his thigh with her finger.
Prophecy
He understood the myriad meanings in that brief signal. They’d been through too much hell together.
But… why him again?
With a legendary Holy Knight standing right there, there was no reason he’d get dragged into the Saintess’s prophecy.
…That’s what he thought.
Until he read the next signal written on his thigh.
Seti
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