Chapter 46

Rosso, an instructor at the Military Academy and a former member of the Holy Shield Knights, was brooding in the instructors’ office.

Rosso was a veteran within the academy and held an important position determining the career paths of the cadets. Even after retiring from the front lines, he possessed ample skill and a wealth of knowledge regarding the Knight Orders, making him a “VIP” ranked third in the academy’s hierarchy.

What was currently plaguing him was the existence of two problem children.

On one hand, a girl of supreme self-importance, her ego proportional to her excessively high status and ability.

Influenced by one of the prodigies who graduated the year before last, she was a troublesome girl trying to force her way into the Pig-Hunt Knight Order. She had even subtly threatened Rosso, saying, “You know what happens if I don’t get in, right?” giving him a persistent stomachache.

Her parents were of a ducal house—the absolute highest tier of the privileged class. If he threw such a lady into the Pig-Hunt Knight Order, what kind of retribution would await him? And if he didn’t let her in, what kind of retribution would the lady herself exact? It was terrifying just to imagine.

On the other hand, a country girl who boasted the lowest grades since the academy’s founding.

Her intelligence was so low that her passing the entrance exam could only be described as a miracle, and her swordsmanship was so poor it could only be called pathetic or broken. He had suggested several times that she give up on the path of a knight, but since her “unyielding heart” was the only thing about her that was top-tier, she wouldn’t stop.

Either way, her destination was set for the Pig-Hunt Knight Order, so the higher-ups wouldn’t complain about her low grades. However, since she was this incompetent, he felt a very sincere anxiety that she might actually die on a mission once she joined.

No matter how many problems they had, a student was still a student.

Worried for their futures, he had considered various options, but he just couldn’t make a final decision on these two.

“I wish someone would just take care of both of them at once and change their minds…”

It was one of the world’s strange mysteries that despite being polar opposites, they both converged on the point of “making him want them to give up on the Pig-Hunt Knight Order.” Since the two had no point of contact, they weren’t on particularly good or bad terms.

As Rosso let out a sigh for the umpteenth time that day, the sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway reached his ears. No instructors were supposed to be around, so he wondered if a student had come. The two aforementioned problem children had long since stopped approaching the office—or so he thought, until the door swung open.

“Excuse me… Oh, if it isn’t Instructor Rosso. What’s with that gloomy face?”

“What do you mean gloomy, you insolent—! …Wait, Varna!?”

Standing there was his former student, the man who was leading the current problem children down the wrong path (though that was a slight exaggeration): Varna.

One moment Rosso thought the boy had easily surpassed his own swordsmanship to participate in the Imperial Match as the youngest ever; the next, he was suddenly appointed as the Kingdom’s First Knight of Excellence. He was that Varna—the one whose name everyone in the Capital knew, but whose face few recognized.

“What are you doing here at a time like this, you former problem child?! You, the second prince, and that sheltered lady ran amok as a trio…!”

“How rude. By the latter half of the year, I was the one tasked with stopping those two from going off the rails. Even if Astraea is a prince and Sedona’s family is an academy sponsor, I must protest that as an unfair evaluation.”

The trio—comprising two who were ignorant of the world and one who was simply beyond common sense—had caused so much trouble that they were called the “Chaotic Great Triangle” back then, giving Rosso many headaches. Yet, Varna had the nerve to complain about the evaluation. The gall of this guy.

“Grr… Fine! So, what’s your business today? If you just came to see your nostalgic alma mater, then hurry up and leave! I’m busy!”

“Now, don’t be like that. I found a junior I’m a bit interested in, so I was looking for an opponent to help show her a demonstration of swordsmanship. Don’t you think you’d feel refreshed moving your body instead of moping at your desk, Instructor?”

“S-Senior… calling out an instructor on a holiday for that might be a bad idea…”

As Rosso was wondering how to drive him away, a familiar problem child poked her head out from behind Varna’s back. A small girl with unruly, very short hair—Amal, the very problem child in question.

…Which means he came all the way here specifically to teach Amal swordsmanship? I’m annoyed he dragged me into it, but since he’s good at teaching, perhaps… No, wait, could this be an opportunity?

In Rosso’s head, wicked calculations clicked together like gears, and with a mental ding, a plan was completed. What a turn of events, Varna! This man, returning to repay the debt of his past troubles, was Rosso’s savior.

“Ahem! Varna, if that’s the case, you are most welcome! Come, sit! I have things to discuss! I’ll serve you some of the office’s famously thin tea immediately!!”

“Wow, that incredibly fake, ear-to-ear grin is practically screaming ‘I’ve hatched a plot’…”

“Varna… Varna? …EEEEEHHHHHH?! Senior, are you that ‘Sword God’ Varna!?”

“Wait, what is that lame-ass nickname…?”

If things went according to plan, two problems would be settled at once. If it worked out, it would be a treat.

Now, my student, prepare to shoulder all the trouble you’ve caused me.

Showing a reaction that gave me deja vu of a certain militia captain from a cliffside town, Amal pouted while grabbing the back of my clothes and shaking me back and forth.

“I didn’t know, Senior! That you were the ‘Sword God’ or whatever!! Why didn’t you tell me from the start!?”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s a pain if I introduce myself like that, so I usually don’t.”

“Uwaah! That’s exactly the kind of line a famous person would say! No fair!”

Amal huffed, her cheeks puffing out in anger. Her emotional swings really were intense.

Still, the fact that I’d gained an embarrassing nickname without my knowledge was bothering me. If it’s not too much to ask, please stop. To be honest, I secretly thought Cushu calling himself “Sword God” was lame, too.

Whether he noticed my distress or not, Instructor Rosso—who was now in an eerily good mood—offered us tea.

“You’ve certainly taken a liking to your junior. Here, tea. You too, Amalthea.”

“Ooh! This is the legendary instructors’ office tea, rumored to be so thin it makes you sad and wish you were just drinking plain water…!!”

“Back in the day, after receiving tea leaves from an overseas visitor, they boldly reduced the amount used per cup to make them last longer. As a result, it cut the budget slightly, so they couldn’t stop. Rumor has it they now use only a quarter-teaspoon of leaves for a hundred cups… It’s as thin as ever. The fact that it smells faintly of tea leaves just makes it even more depressing.”

“That, too, will soon be gone. The Vice-Principal who founded the tradition is retiring next year, so there’s no obligation to continue it.”

I regretted that I hadn’t waited until next year to visit. Unlike me, who purposely didn’t touch it, Amal—driven by curiosity—took a sip. After a brief silence, she was enveloped in a sadness like a churning nocturnal sea.

“So little flavor… I wonder why… it’s so thin it makes me feel miserable just drinking it…”

“Don’t cry, Amal. A buddy of mine drank this once and wept, saying, ‘To think such a miserable drink exists in this world…!’”

In the tea ceremonies of the East, there is a concept called wabi-sabi, but this particular tea was a symbol of humanity’s negative legacy—designed specifically to make a person feel wretched and lonely. The sin of the Vice-Principal who brought this culture into the world was deep, in inverse proportion to the flavor of the brew.

If they wanted to cut the budget that badly, maybe I should teach them how to make the Royal Foreign Hazardous Species Countermeasures Knights’ special blend coffee. It was delicious enough that no one would complain even if it were sold as a commercial product, and above all, it was low-budget. The ingredients were just dandelions and acorns, after all. Maybe I should propose a business expansion. It might actually earn a bit of pocket money.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Right. Actually, besides Amalthea, I have another student who’s a bit of a handful… I was wondering if you could take them along for training in my stead?”

As he spoke, the Instructor handed over a piece of paper.

It looked like a register containing a student’s personal information.

“Let’s see… a female student? Her name is Rosalind Kreuz von Bauberg… Bauberg?! That’s a daughter of a Ducal house!!”

The Bauberg family was a prestigious noble house that had existed since the nation’s founding, one of the country’s leading aristocratic families with the deepest ties to the Royalty. To give you an idea of the scale, Queen Mevina—the wife of current King Ivalto VI and Astraea’s mother—was also from the Bauberg family.

“Why is a girl from such a high-ranking family a ‘problem child’? Is she the Astraea type?”

“That choice of words… if anyone but you said that, it would definitely be lèse-majesté.”

To me, he was just a slightly disappointing, wild prince, but the world is a strange place considering he held the third seat in the line of succession. By the way, while I’d forgiven most of his antics with a generous heart, I would never forgive the time he secretly hauled me into the Royal Palace while I was semi-conscious with a fever just to have a court physician examine me.

Ever since then, because I’d been spotted carrying Astraea, the two of us were treated as a couple of sodomites for a while. And to make it worse, Astraea himself burst out laughing when he heard the rumors and actually played along. Afterward, Sedona scolded us both, shouting “Filthy!!”, but no matter how you looked at it, I was a victim caught in the crossfire.

“Well, putting that aside. Rosalind certainly has a good upbringing and her conduct is flawless. She doesn’t unjustly look down on commoners, and she’s a super-elite who hasn’t surrendered the top spot in either academics or swordsmanship since the entrance exams.”

“I know her too! Even though she’s from the privileged class, she doesn’t seem haughty at all. It’s like she has this elegant aura just… bursting out! She’s the kind of woman other women adore!! …Though whenever I ask her to practice, she always finds some reason to dodge me.”

“If that’s all, isn’t there no problem?”

“The problem is that her grades are so good I’m worried she’s getting a big head. Despite never having experienced real combat, she talks about wanting a ‘duel to the death’ or how the current Knight Orders are ‘soft.’ That kind of conceit always leads to major injuries later on.”

“I see…”

I understood the sentiment. My peer—the man who suffered heavy injuries in a fight with an Orc and quit the Order—had been overconfident for no reason, thinking “There’s no way I’d fall behind the likes of an Orc,” and thus he grew careless. The two who left the Order midway had essentially interpreted the work of a knight too conveniently, and therefore couldn’t handle the gap when reality hit.

If you start by looking down on the job, a massive retaliation is bound to strike back.

I had no concrete proof, but it was a high-accuracy prediction based on experience.

“No matter how much she’s the strongest among the cadets, she won’t reach the level of the strongest on the front lines. And being a knight isn’t just about pursuing martial feats. As her senior, could you teach her that?”

In short, Instructor Rosso was asking me to knock Rosalind’s ego down a peg.

It seemed a bit pitiful, but an instructor has to correct the trajectory of a student heading toward a dangerous path, even if they have to beat it into them. Even if they’re hated and cursed as a violent teacher, they wish for as many of the students they’ve poured their hearts into to succeed.

Moved by Instructor Rosso’s unusually serious dignity as an educator, Amal clasped her hands in a prayer pose.

“Instructor… to think you cared so deeply about your students’ futures!! Until now, I secretly thought, ‘How dare you give up on me? If I don’t learn a secret art, I’ll curse your descendants for generations,’ but I’ve changed my mind!”

“U-Umu. That’s the kind of thing you don’t say out loud even if you think it, Amalthea. Especially not in front of the person themselves.”

“That’s right, Amal-chan. Besides, it might be a bit too early to change your mind anyway…”

The conversation was moving along like a moving tale, but I was someone who had spent my time losing mental battles against that Tanuki Commander. Consequently, I was well-acquainted with the thoughts and methods of people who deceive others. Well, if it were the Tanuki, he’d slip through my defenses effortlessly, but my heart’s firewall wouldn’t waver for a mere lie from an instructor.

“Could it be that you’ve already been surpassed in sword skill, so you can’t knock her down yourself?”

“Wh-What ever could you mean by that?”

Instructor Rosso blatantly looked away, playing dumb with a strange intonation.

But his true feelings were obvious. Because the exact same thing happened when I was at the Academy. Just when I thought I’d been called out by an active knight, he attacked me with full force, saying he’d give me a lesson. It was a very meaningful session, so after I spent an hour thoroughly thrashing him, he told me the truth through his tears. Of course, the Instructor was currently playing dumb about that incident as well.

“Furthermore, if you lay a hand on her yourself, your head might roll due to pressure from the Ducal house, so you want to get it done without getting your own hands dirty.”

“Hmm-mm? I have nooo idea what you’re talking about~♪”

“I have a track record with the Sedona situation and the status of being the strongest in the Kingdom, right? In the unlikely event things go south, the responsibility falls on me, which means you can create a huge debt with Commander Kushu of the Order of the Sacred Boots? And if it goes well, you’re secretly rejoicing inside, thinking ‘Yahoo, the problems with Rosalind-chan and Amal-chan are solved without any effort’?”

“Ah, I suddenly feel like singing a folk song from my hometown! Yo-lo-loh-ho-ho-ee-oh-ho-ho~♪”

“You haven’t fooled anyone, and you haven’t even hidden your joy!!”

The sight of Instructor Rosso abandoning all pretense and humming a song with a weird pitch was incredibly irritating.

He was the textbook example of a corrupt adult using words to manipulate youngsters just to reap the benefits.

Already, Amal-chan’s gaze toward the Instructor had transformed into one of pure disgust, as if she were looking at flies swarming over leftovers. My bag of patience was also in full “Rampaging Knight” mode.

“Dammit, I’ve had enough! You be the practice dummy for the sword after all, you bastard!!”

“Wait, wait, wait! This is a deal that benefits you too, see?! Look, same for you, Amalthea! Everyone ends up happy, so isn’t it fine?!”

“I was an idiot for respecting you for even a second!! Senior, forget about me, just deliver the iron hammer of justice to the Instructor!!”

“W-Wait! If we talk, you’ll understand! I’ll give you a lecture so you’ll understand, so put down that chair you’re holding!! Ah, wait, stop… OUAARRRGGGHHHH!!?”

Youths are not toys for the elderly, nor are they puppets.

Driven by a surging passion that couldn’t be summed up by mere interests, Instructor Rosso immediately paid the price for underestimating the initiative of the young.