Chapter 92
Chapter 92
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: No Master for Destiny (3)
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***
After leaving the path where the freshman main building came into view and walking west for about three minutes.
They finally arrived in a forest with no CCTV cameras, not even a single streetlamp, and only then did Yeomyeong turn his head.
“…Why did you come to the Academy?”
A voice devoid of any goodwill. Or, to put it more precisely, a voice suppressing outright hostility.
The woman in the blue mask who had followed him silently without a sound let out a sigh before replying.
“…You’re talking like I’ve come to a place I’m not supposed to be.”
“Morine. I’m not here to trade barbs with you. Did you come to see your daughter? If so, you’re going the wrong way. The girls’ dormitory is in the opposite direction.”
Perhaps due to his unexpectedly sharp attitude, Morine looked at him with a hint of bewilderment.
A brief silence passed, and then she tapped her lips as if realizing something.
“Ah, I see… You still haven’t used the key I gave you. Why? There’s no reason to turn down an artifact like that.”
“…”
The Bloodtear Key.
The relic Morine had given him as an apology and proof of their deal after shooting at him while ranting about the Saintess’s snowfield.
Yeomyeong hadn’t used the key yet. To be exact, he hadn’t had the chance.
In Manchuria, he’d been fully occupied just digesting the Comet Sword, and after arriving at the Academy, he hadn’t had time.
From the entrance ceremony to the terrorist attack, he’d been caught up in one incident after another.
Even in the VIP room where he’d finally had a moment of respite, he’d been half-confined, so he hadn’t used the Bloodtear Key in his dormitory room.
In any case, Yeomyeong had no intention of explaining such trivial circumstances to Morine.
He replied coldly to the mask facing him.
“…How I use my own possession is none of your business.”
Morine’s lips twitched slightly.
“That’s true, but… I can’t help feeling regretful. If you’d gained the key’s power, you wouldn’t be treating me with such hostility.”
“…”
“…But please know this: To give you that key, I paid quite a heavy price myself.”
The conversation about the key didn’t continue further.
Yeomyeong, tired of the pointless talk, simply turned his back.
Just as he was about to leave the forest, Morine’s voice caught his step.
“Dung beetle… no, Cheon Yeomyeong. Do you know? The more famous you get, the more flies swarm around you?”
“…”
“We’ve received at least a few hundred requests just at our company to dig into your past. Including everywhere else… at least thousands, maybe tens of thousands, are chasing your history.”
Only then did Yeomyeong stop and turn his head again.
“Of course, no need to worry. We’ve already cleaned up your past on our end.”
“…Our deal didn’t include that.”
An awkward smile crept onto Morine’s lips.
“Think of it as a small apology for my mistake, unrelated to our deal?”
He couldn’t see her exact expression due to the mask, but reading her intent wasn’t hard.
Her cautious tone, her fidgety gestures.
She felt sorry toward Yeomyeong—or something similar.
If sincere, it was chilling; if acting, repulsive. Frowning, Yeomyeong asked.
“…Let’s end the useless chatter here.”
His tone had lost a bit of its embedded hostility.
As Morine sighed in relief, Yeomyeong spoke.
“Back to the beginning: What’s the real reason you came to the Academy?”
“…Of course, as president of Blue Rat Company. The Academy headmaster came to our company directly.”
So she dragged out that it was for business.
Yeomyeong glanced at the sky where the sun was barely dipping below the horizon and asked.
“So, why seek me out? Just to drop by and see my face while on the job?”
No sooner had his question ended than Morine answered.
“Not my daughter or other students, but… you and Miss Hong Seti. There’s something you two need to know.”
How does she know about Seti…? Yeomyeong swallowed the question rising to his throat.
It was a meaningless query. The woman had started by shooting at him over her daughter, after all.
It’d be weirder if she didn’t know who her daughter’s only friend was.
“Where should I start… First, do you know about the recent situation at the Academy?”
She approached him slowly as she began explaining.
“Thanks to this terrorist attack, the Academy is under unprecedented pressure.”
It started as typical political talk.
“Countries desperate for superhumans—major powers and mid-tier nations alike—are itching to exert influence over the Academy, and most organizations aren’t mourning the dead faculty but eyeing the Academy’s warehouses…”
Just as the explanation was about to lengthen, Yeomyeong cut her off.
“…How much longer does this go on?”
“We’re just getting started… Why, do you have something urgent?”
Yeomyeong nodded.
“I have a personal appointment. It’s almost time.”
“…With our daughter, by any chance?”
Her hopeful tone was met with Yeomyeong firmly shaking his head, shattering her expectations.
As Morine clicked her tongue briefly, Yeomyeong subtly checked his phone.
‘…Seti hasn’t replied yet.’
Did things not go well with the Saintess? Or had she not gathered her sisters yet?
She hadn’t sent any messages since that one [I’m at the dorm now].
That meant there was still time before she met her sisters…
Yeomyeong turned back to Morine and said.
“Keep it short. Just the point.”
“This is already trimmed down as much as I can… but if you’re short on time, no choice.”
Despite her words, Morine’s continued explanation wasn’t as brief as expected.
The political situation surrounding the Academy was that complex.
Conflicts between board members and faculty backed by external support.
Blatant pressure from factions eyeing the Academy’s martial arts and magic.
And Principal Himeena’s struggles to restore normality amid it all.
Only after that long—or short, depending—background did Morine get to the point.
“The headmaster plans to introduce a new curriculum to address both the external pressure and provide justification.”
“…You think that alone will stop this mess?”
A valid point.
Regardless of student casualties, the terrorist attack had already left deep scars on the Academy.
Starting anti-terrorism education now was just locking the barn after losing the cow.
But Morine shook her head.
“That’d be true for an ordinary school. But this is Lord Howe Academy. A prestigious institution that’s never once accepted outside instructors.”
“…”
“And now, they’re declaring they’ll break tradition and hire external teachers. Half will be chosen directly by the school, but the other half… will be people with influence from other countries.”
Wasn’t that just giving external forces an opening to intervene?
“…Isn’t that a mistake? They could lose not just tradition but autonomy.”
“If it were really just about hiring teachers, yes.”
Hearing her reply, Yeomyeong crossed his arms and gave her a look demanding further explanation.
She added.
“In truth, teacher recruitment is just the public excuse. Heads I win, tails you lose, you could say. It’s the headmaster’s ruse.”
“…Ruse?”
Yeomyeong’s eyebrow twitched at the unexpected word.
“She’s… secretly gathering powerhouses to the Academy to quell public opinion. Famous names anyone would recognize, hidden superhumans, active mercenaries…”
Gathering powerhouses in secret? Yeomyeong realized why the headmaster had summoned the Blue Rats and swallowed a bitter smile.
“…The Blue Rats gathered intel on those powerhouses. And ways to recruit them.”
Morine nodded without a word.
He’d thought the complex politics of justification and opinion might differ, but the conclusion was the same as always.
If you’re weak, you get devoured; to protect yourself, you need power. Even if it’s the dirty kind others shun.
Reconfirming this bitter truth of the world, Yeomyeong asked Morine.
“So, among those teachers, is there someone problematic for me and Seti?”
“As expected, sharp. Yes. And to add a bit more… among the teachers recommended by a country other than the Academy, there’s someone targeting you two.”
“…Another country?”
“Korea.”
The moment his homeland’s name came up, Yeomyeong clenched his fist to hide his agitation.
“One of the leading nations pressuring the Academy this time.”
Morine kindly elaborated. After a pause, Yeomyeong said.
“…What do you know about Seti and Korea?”
“That the Korean government did something awful to her? Beyond that, even we couldn’t dig deeper.”
Lie or truth?
He scrutinized Morine’s face, but found no hints behind the mask.
Should he force more info out of her? It wasn’t a bad idea, but Yeomyeong decided to be satisfied here.
The information she’d given was useful enough.
A teacher backed by the Korean government was coming—had he not known, it could’ve been disastrous.
‘I need to lift the restriction today.’
Organizing his thoughts, Yeomyeong replied cautiously to Morine.
“…Thank you for the valuable info.”
“Save the thanks for later. My story isn’t over yet.”
Morine extended her hand as she spoke. In it was a single black feather.
“Among the teachers the headmaster summoned… there’s one who can resolve your and Seti’s issues.”
It resembled the crow feathers he’d seen endlessly during his cleanup crew days, but this black feather was twice the size of a normal one.
“Corbus. Master of Crows, Seeker at Crossroads.”
Not as famous as Hose or the Holy Sword, apparently. Even Yeomyeong, who’d watched superhuman documentaries, was hearing the name for the first time.
“Become her disciple. Do that, and neither you nor Seti will need to fear the teacher sent by the Korean government.”
But if the president of a massive intel guild—and the Saintess’s mother—personally vouched for her strength.
She was surely no ordinary superhuman.
“…What kind of person is she?”
“Not quite on the level of the Holy Sword you’re connected to… but quite strong.”
Morine stated firmly, offering the feather.
“Show her this feather. She’ll gladly take you as her disciple. Oh, and now’s the time for thanks.”
Yeomyeong carefully took the feather. It pulsed with a strange mana.
After gazing at it briefly, he swallowed an inner sigh and bowed to Morine.
“…Thank you.”
With that awkward gratitude, his conversation with Morine ended. Or it should have.
But a question Yeomyeong let slip unwittingly prolonged it.
“When do the external teachers arrive at the Academy?”
Morine, lifting her invisibility cloak, replied lightly.
“The headmaster’s plan will be announced tomorrow, so earliest is the day after.”
Still time, then. As Yeomyeong was about to sigh in relief, Morine added.
“But if someone’s figured out the headmaster’s plan… they might arrive today.”
Today? Yeomyeong frowned.
“Any chance the Korean government caught on?”
“Fifty-fifty? It’s so secretive few would notice… but given how much Korea’s investing in pressuring the Academy, it wouldn’t be odd if they did.”
Morine added as if to say not to worry.
“Of course, no need to fret. Even the Korean government can’t start trouble on school grounds. Miss Hong Seti will be fine.”
The moment her words ended, Yeomyeong became certain of one thing.
Morine didn’t know about the restriction on Seti.
If an external teacher came today and triggered it?
The Academy wouldn’t protect her.
Frowning at the worst-case scenario, Yeomyeong immediately pulled out his phone and called Seti.
The ringtone dragged on, but no answer.
[The customer is currently unable to take your call…]
Yeomyeong snapped his phone shut and bit his lip. Half foreboding, half faith that nothing was wrong.
What should he do now?
The deliberation was brief; the action swift.
He said to Morine, who was ready to leave.
“Morine, can I ask a favor? It’s important.”
“…A favor? Suddenly?”
Morine tilted her head at the abrupt request.
And upon hearing what followed, bewilderment crossed her face.
“Lend me your invisibility cloak.”
***
Academy north island, stairs leading to the rooftop of Quini Tower—the Academy’s tallest structure.
“Huff… huff… Director… please… just a bit… slower…”
Wallard clutched the stair railing, gasping for breath. He had no idea how far they’d climbed; his mouth reeked of acetone.
But Medga, the Admissions Director climbing ahead, didn’t even glance back.
“Don’t force yourself. Rest and catch up.”
Leaving that soulless consolation, Medga’s back receded.
Wallard glared at it before dragging his unwilling legs onward.
It wasn’t just anywhere; being left alone inside the Academy was a hard no.
‘…What if I run into Cheon Yeomyeong alone?’
He recalled the Saintess’s parting words from Manchuria. More precisely, Yeomyeong’s final warning she’d relayed.
—Never cross paths with Yeomyeong again. He said he’d kill you no matter what if you do.
Wallard hadn’t taken the warning lightly.
The Yeomyeong he’d seen was one who killed if he decided to.
Plus, he had the sin of touching Elder Jang Man. If caught by Yeomyeong, no mercy.
So he’d strained every effort to avoid Yeomyeong thus far.
Even while laundering his past on the president’s orders or bribing reporters in Manchuria, caution upon caution…
Who’d have thought things would snag at the Academy.
‘It was supposed to be just stay at the port… damn it.’
Of course, with reconstruction ongoing, no students would come to the north island, but what about that one-in-a-million chance?
Wallard had no intention of betting his life on odds, nor separating from Medga, his lifeline.
In any event, he barely hauled his creaking body to the rooftop.
Only after taking in the vast space could he finally exhale in relief.
For there, with the Admissions Director Medga, was the very person(?) they’d been seeking.
Beneath the dim sky, a massive crow glimmering with black feathers.
“Corbus…”
Wallard sighed in relief as he approached her.
And in that meantime, Medga, already beside Corbus, spoke.
“Guest, what are you doing in a place like this?”
Medga’s tone wasn’t kindly. He’d wasted the whole day chasing this crow from the port to the north island.
The crow, however, paid his words little mind.
Gazing this way and that at the Academy landscape below the railing, she replied.
“Picking a disciple.”
“…Picking a disciple? What are you talking about?”
“Ask Headmaster Himeena for the details.”
The next moment, the crow, who’d been turning her head about, froze as if spotting something amusing.
“Oh.”
A short exclamation.
Medga reflexively looked in the same direction. But nothing remarkable met his eyes.
The crow’s gaze was toward the distant sea, the island with the freshmen.
Could she see students from this far?
As Medga’s eyebrow arched long, the crow clacked her beak.
“The Academy’s gotten quite open these days.”
“Open…? What?”
“A male student heading to the girls’ dorm at this hour. They must’ve changed the rules.”
Male student… girls’ dorm? Medga’s expression hardened.
“…Who exactly are you seeing?”
“How would I know his name? A quite handsome young man. Hmm, feels like I’ve seen him somewhere…”
Joking? Or real? As Medga felt confusion stir, the crow thrust her head forward.
“Oh, he just scaled the dorm wall!”
Medga scowled deeply and pulled out his phone.
Joke or not, he had to respond.
With the place already chaotic from the attack, a boy sneaking into the girls’ dorm?
The media reaction was predictable. Medga hurriedly called the girls’ dorm supervisor.
“…Guest, could you describe the boy you’re seeing?”
“Of course. Let’s see, neat hair, uniform shirt only… and…”
“…And?”
“Ooh, he just vanished.”
“...?”
Medga, focused on her voice, wore a baffled look, then his phone-holding hand trembled.
The crow, of course, kept chattering on.
“Invisibility magic, perhaps?”
Medga was convinced the crow was mocking him.
Invisibility? No student could cast that.
“Huff, huff… C-Corbus… huff, just a moment, talk to me…”
In the meantime, Wallard, who’d approached, tried to speak.
“Th-the Blue Rat’s… message…”
Whatever the near-exhausted man babbled, the crow didn’t look back and spread her wings wide.
“That one seems good.”
“W-Wait!”
Realizing what she might do, Medga reached out, but the crow leapt over the railing a touch faster.
Massive wings rippled, her huge body scattering black feathers as she soared into the night sky.
Toward the freshmen girls’ dorm she’d been watching moments before.
On the rooftop the crow left behind remained only the stunned, speechless Medga and the pitifully panting Wallard.
Wallard stared at the night sky where Corbus had vanished, then muttered one final wretched word.
“…Fuck.”
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