Chapter 52

Ultimately, their arguments boiled down to this:

“I’m just fed up! I give up on learning from a big-headed person like Rosalind-san! Senior, you should be the one to teach me after all!”

“And I have grown weary of trying to explain logic to an empty-headed person like Amalthea-san. Looking after her is a burden beyond my capacity.”

“I hear you. So you want me to retract my order for Rosalind to be Amal’s practice partner, is that it?”

Well, given this ‘water and oil’ level of compatibility, I suppose it’s only natural for them to want to give up on working together.

If someone told me to get along with the likes of Orcus and his privileged circle, I’d probably find it impossible too. He despises the very existence of commoner knights and looks down on me from the bottom of his heart. The only times he and I “get along” are when I act like a groveling servant or when I silence him through… let’s say, less than moral methods. Needless to say, both are the worst kinds of human relationships.

…However.

“I’m not retracting my statement.”

“Eh?”

“And why is that?”

“It’s exactly as I said before. Amal, you will ask Rosalind for instruction. Rosalind, you will accept and whip her into shape. That’s an order from your senior.”

In an instant, the temperature of the gaze they directed at me plummeted. Though they didn’t say it, their eyes were clearly screaming, ‘Hey, were you even listening to us, punk?’ with a mild hint of irritation. What is it about making enemies of younger girls that triggers such an inexplicable sense of dread?

But no. This time, as a senior of the knight order, I won’t back down.

Before choosing the easy path, one must put in a real effort and challenge their limits.

“How many months do you two have left until graduation?”

“Eh? Um… about four months, I think?”

“And what does that have to do with our request being rejected?”

While Amal was counting on her fingers—one, two, three—Rosalind’s sharp, unblinking gaze was quite painful. I wasn’t trying to dodge the question, so she didn’t have to glare at me that hard.

Now, let’s talk about some realistic knight order business.

“Personnel transfers in the knight order generally happen once a year. Even if you happen to become colleagues with someone you’re fatally incompatible with, you’ll have to stay near them for a year by simple calculation. That’s three times the period you have left… and that’s assuming a transfer actually lands you in a different department from that person.”

Of course, things might change if one of them left the order due to unforeseen circumstances, or if Rosalind’s request went through and she joined the same order. But I chose not to mention that and stepped into a more important area.

“If you encounter someone whose wavelength or personality clashes with yours after joining the order, you can’t just say ‘I won’t cooperate because I hate them’ as long as you’re working together. That’s unacceptable in any job, knight order or otherwise.”

Sure, HR takes compatibility and personal likes or dislikes into account to some extent, but order cannot be maintained if the structure of the organization is rearranged just for the sake of specific individuals. Even if you dislike someone, you have to be able to build a relationship of trust sufficient to ensure that work is not hindered.

“Do you two really think that if something like that happens once you’re knights, you can just ask a superior or a senior to ‘change the person because we don’t click’ and have it granted?”

“Ugh, that’s…”

“It wouldn’t be granted?”

“Of course not. You’re not children; figure it out.”

“Ehhh, that’s so mean!”

Unlike Rosalind, who was at a loss for words, Amal was genuinely surprised that her selfishness wouldn’t pass—she knows way too little of the world. I couldn’t help but wonder if she came from a countryside as remote as my hometown and thus didn’t know the ways of the city, but either way, I suppose it’s good that she’s learned another harsh reality.

In any case, refusing to work together just because you dislike someone is an abandonment of thought. Even if they can’t become friends, they should learn to know their partner better and put in the effort to find out how to work together without issues.

“So, that’s how it is. I’m not telling you to be best friends until graduation, but consider this a trial from me to you. The deadline is the winter exam; after that, your association is up to your own judgment.”

“Impossible! No way!”

“What a lightning-fast response…”

Amal’s electric response—clocking in at under 0.1 seconds—almost made my knees buckle. It was a low-aspiration answer, brutally honest and showing her eternal hatred for hardship. The gaze Rosalind directed at her now was officially absolute zero.

To be blunt, I won’t force it if they truly don’t want to. I won’t force it, but I will make them look at the cruel reality waiting if they don’t.

“If you enter the knight order like this—a person with no redeeming qualities who can’t study, work, or fight—you’ll just screw up, get flagged by the recorders, and get fired. They’re strict about that kind of thing.”

“…Uguu, getting fired would be… bad.”

“Then the choice is made.”

The moment I said ‘fired,’ Amal’s eyes wavered intensely for a split second.

Come to think of it—if she truly hated suffering that much, she wouldn’t have stayed in the Officers’ Academy until now, and the fact that she entered it in the first place would be strange. Even if one just cruises through, the education at the Academy is remarkably severe.

Someone truly spineless would have definitely given up and fled in the middle of the night.

In other words, she must have a strong will to become a knight, or a specific reason.

“Show me your resolve to become a knight.”

“…Senior, you’re surprisingly strict. But, I’ve got family circumstances and stuff… so I’ll try a little longer.”

Surprisingly, Amal made an immediate decision without hanging her head or brooding.

Whether that was a response born of shallow thought or true decisiveness is something that will likely become clear once the next mission ends and I return to the Capital.

Now, one down, but what about the other?

“What about you, Rosalind?”

“…Varna-sama, did you also have people with whom you were so incompatible?”

Rosalind threw a question at me with a faint hint of suspicion. If someone speaks high-and-mighty to you but then says they’ve never had such an experience themselves, most people would find it unreasonable. But it was fine; in my case, it was very much a present-tense situation.

“I’m no saint, you know. Even now, I still have complaints about my roommate! He drinks alcohol from midday, leaves empty bottles lying around, and occasionally pushes his responsibilities onto me.”

“To put it mildly, that sounds like a degenerate!?”

“He sounds just like the uncle who lived next door to me! He was always drunkenly rambling about how everything went wrong because of his wife, and then the wife would promptly kick him!”

I wouldn’t name names, but I was talking about a certain good-for-nothing senior of mine. Also, Amal’s neighbor’s wife sounds a bit too violent. Usually, it’s the other way around… well, it’s a bad sign for the world if a violent husband is the “usual,” so I suppose it’s fine.

By the way, it’s irritating that the list of people I have grievances with includes multiple individuals, like Ottoman and the three brothers, and even Commander Luger.

“…Varna-sama is only in his second year. For me, who has not even joined yet, to give up now… as someone aspiring to be your apprentice, it would be truly pitiful…!”

‘Senior, what does ‘pitiful’ mean?’

Yeah, I don’t know what it means either. Based on the flow, I’m guessing it’s “pathetic” or something.

Whether she failed to hear our mindless exchange or was simply too locked in her own internal conflict, Rosalind groaned through a series of “ngggghs” before finally squeezing out a strained voice.

“With all due respect, to ask us to do this now—with less than two weeks left until the winter exams—is somewhat unreasonable. Therefore—”

“Having unreasonable time limits forced on you is also a classic ‘knight order’ thing.”

“Ehhh… I hate that kind of classic thing!”

“The Royal Foreign Hazardous Species Countermeasures Knights… exactly how much ill-treatment do you endure!?”

The recruits were already trembling at their first glimpse into the reality of the order.

If you want to know, just try joining. I’ll welcome you grandly as officer candidates and show you a schedule so packed it looks like a bookshelf with no room for a single pamphlet. You only get about fifty days of leave a year, you know.

However, Rosalind, who had been about to say something else, suddenly snapped back to her senses.

“Wait, that’s not it! If we are to accomplish such a tall order, I believe we should receive a commensurate reward!”

“Hm? A reward… True, you need rewards to keep motivation up.”

Even I wouldn’t go hunting orcs if I wasn’t getting a paycheck.

Selfless love and patriotism sound nice, but labor without compensation is for slaves. If this were the knight order, I’d be showered with cold insults like “Don’t make me laugh, moron,” but here, I’ll stack the rewards to get them fired up.

“Alright, if you succeed, I’ll give you each a ‘Favor Ticket.’ It’s a system where one ticket equals one free request you can make of me.”

“What is this domestic system? It’s like a ‘back-rub coupon’ you give your parents! …By the way, how big of a request can we make?”

“Within a budget of 300,000 Stele, and nothing antisocial or impossible for me to achieve. Let me be clear: if you ask for something stupid like ‘give me 300,000 Stele’ or ‘give me more tickets,’ I’ll confiscate the ticket on the spot.”

I made sure to warn Amal, whose eyes were sparkling at the scent of money, but even so, a request with a 300,000 Stele ceiling should be a massive deal for someone without an income. And these favors aren’t limited to financial matters.

“I have no particular interest in money…”

“Oh? Then how about I head to the House of Bauberg and persuade them to let you join the ‘Pig-Hunting’ Knights?”

“…!? Y-you won’t go back on those words, will you!?”

“Only if you achieve your goal, of course.”

She bit, just as expected. As I thought, that was the biggest bottleneck for her.

Of course, I won’t break my promise. However, to be honest, I think the probability of her actually achieving the goal is low. And if possible, I’d prefer her to say, regardless of the result, “I am still immature. Before becoming a disciple, I shall train at another knight order and come back later.” That would ultimately be the smoothest resolution for everyone.

No, I should stop with the pathetic wishful thinking.

Life is full of twists and turns. Whatever happens, happens.

“Now that we’ve agreed, both of you, a handshake to seal the ceasefire!”

“…Please, at least try not to hold me back, Amalthea-san?”

“I’m gonna suck it up and deal with how mean you are and how you don’t understand feelings, so you’d better be grateful, okay?”

Neither of them so much as cracked a smile, but apparently the reward was enticing enough that they signed a very cold ceasefire treaty. Their palms were practically creaking as they gripped each other, though. Are you guys really going to be okay? The future for these two juniors is already looking like a rocky road.

…Well, if they can actually overcome this much absurdity, they’ll manage somehow even in the knight order. I’ve put them through a minimum screening and bought some time; I’ll leave the final judgment to the bearded old man.

I bought time, added conditions so it could go either way, and managed to set up a check to see if they’ll be useful if they actually join. As for the matter of persuading the Duke’s house, I’ll just dump that on the old man’s lap.

As I said before, this case involves underground circumstances that I can’t judge on my own.

A trial as a “criterion for judging if Rosalind is useful.”

Depending on the outcome, I’ve set it up so that even the old man will have a positive impression. It’s an unknown how it will work out for Rosalind that I set up this trial without reporting to him yesterday, but I intend this to be my maximum concession as someone who belongs to the organization.

Amal said it, didn’t she? ‘It would be a pity if adults decided her future for her.’ …I don’t want to break that promise.

The fact that I’m hoping—just a little—that Rosalind will produce a result serious enough to make the old man nod means I’m still a greenhorn myself. Lost in these thoughts, I looked down at the bill for the meal.

“…Whoa.”

Today’s total: Rosalind, who mercilessly ordered the most expensive meal, Amal, who ate a massive amount, and myself. Total: 67,800 Stele. Faced with an expense I could hardly call cheap, for some reason, my eyes started to sting a little. If I spend this much money only to be told “Actually, cooperation is impossible,” the emotional damage might be greater for me.

In a corner of the Royal Magic Research Institute—in a room in the tower where biological scholars gather—several individuals were huddled around the corpse of an orc. They all wore expressions of unrest they couldn’t hide, their gazes converging on the one woman who had led the dissection.

“Professor Nonoka, this… is this the same as that case from last year…?”

“I am forced to conclude that it is,” the woman—Nonoka—declared with firm resolve.

Instantly, the others who had assisted in the dissection began to murmur.

Their faces showed a mix of shock, excitement, and a trace of fear.

“To think such individuals would appear outside of that specific environment! Is the Kingdom’s orc population truly heading toward a unique evolution…?”

“This is a grave matter, Nonoka. We must report this to the Kingdom!”

“Good heavens. If the orcs specialize in this direction, the very premises of orc ecology will be overturned!”

If it had been just one, it could have been dismissed as a mutation.

But now, multiple specimens were showing these characteristics.

In other words, for the orcs, “that evolution” has already begun.

For their ugly green neighbors—who boast high vitality, fertility, and environmental adaptability—this major turning point contained a fact that was far too terrifying for humanity.

“The matter in the North… we definitely need to verify it. If things are as expected, the source of the incident is the North. Fortunately, it hasn’t spread that far yet… depending on the situation, we may have to thoroughly wipe them out.”

“……”

One of the scholars who had assisted in the dissection swallowed hard.

Nonoka is a scholar, and she is not necessarily in favor of exterminating specific species. The fact that she used such a violent phrase as “thoroughly wipe them out” made those around her realize the gravity of the situation once again.

“Due to this incident, the knight order is already making full-scale preparations for a northern expedition. Until we have confirmation there, this matter must not leak outside. This is a confidentiality obligation of the Research Institute… understood?”

“Y-yes!!”

Having confirmed everyone’s nod, Nonoka applied magical freezing treatment to the orc corpse, moved it from the dissection room, and placed it under strict storage. An orc corpse that looked normal at a glance—but possessed two “abnormal” characteristics.

It was an omen of the new hardships closing in on the Royal Foreign Hazardous Species Countermeasures Knights.