Chapter 84 : Omen (2)

Chapter 84: Omen (2)

“Uuugh… I’m sorry, junior. I shouldn’t have been so noisy for no reason….”

Even after we left the classroom, Lancia still muttered in a voice that sounded utterly deflated.

“If we put it that way, my voice wasn’t exactly quiet either. Please don’t blame yourself so much, senior.”

At my attempt at comfort, Lancia only muttered more self-reproachfully.

“To think I’d even be comforted in this kind of situation… Instead of showing a respectable side as a senior, I keep showing this pathetic side. I feel like I’m losing confidence.”

“Haha.”

I burst into laughter and spoke again as if to reassure her.

“Please don’t say things like that, senior. It’s embarrassing to admit it myself, but I really respect you.”

At those words, Lancia froze in her tracks and turned to look at me.

It was as if she had just heard something she simply couldn’t believe.

“Huh? What is it?”

“Eh?”

“N-no, I mean… why would someone like you respect me?”

Lancia muttered as if she couldn’t understand.

“O-of course, I really do appreciate you saying that. But the only thing I’ve done was help you that time in the library when we first met…”

“That too, yes. But not only that. From the very first meeting, you helped me without any reason, and ever since then, you’ve looked out for me every time we met.”

I spoke lightly, as though it were nothing remarkable.

“Showing kindness to a complete stranger with no reason… that’s not something easy to do. That alone is more than enough of a reason to respect you.”

“That’s… only natural. And it was a simple thing.”

“You may say it’s natural, but actually doing it is another matter. There are countless cases where even eighty-year-olds can’t carry out something a three-year-old child knows.”

That wasn’t empty flattery—it was the truth.

More than anything else, I owed her my life precisely because of what she considered natural and simple, but what was in truth a rare kindness.

A small act of kindness from someone could become an immeasurably great turning point for another.

“On top of that, I heard you’re known in the Cathedral for always giving your best effort, being sincere, and actively serving others. Compared to those seniors who think being here a year earlier makes them superior, you’re several times more—”

“Ugh, aaah, ah! Stop! Please, stop already!”

Lancia suddenly shoved something toward my mouth.

When I looked closely, I realized it was a piece of candy.

The kind of candy the Cathedral might give to children as a reward for memorizing scripture well.

“Here, take this if you’ll just stop! Please, just stop already…”

Her face was burning red, and she spoke almost as if begging. I raised both hands in surrender to show I understood.

Seeing that, Lancia handed me the candy as though telling me to just accept it.

“You can eat it…”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.”

The moment I put it in my mouth, the sharp scent of cinnamon instantly filled it.

Of all flavors, it had to be cinnamon….

I chewed without showing any reaction on my face.

“Uuugh… I’m sorry. I’ve never actually been complimented so directly before, so… it caught me off guard.”

As she muttered this, Lancia ran her hands down her face as though washing it.

Each time she moved, her blue hair shimmered like crashing waves.

“I suppose I also got carried away and teased too much. I apologize.”

“…I’ll forgive you, but please don’t do it again.”

“Yes, I’ll be careful.”

“Ugh, for some reason, whenever I’m with you, junior, I feel all unsettled.”

Lancia mumbled in a small voice, then let out a big exhale—hoooh.

After calming herself with another deep breath, she glanced around before whispering to me.

“Junior, actually… I only said that earlier because there were people around, but… maybe

you shouldn’t come for volunteer work this week.”

“Why is that?”

“Because of the Merchant Group of Demons.”

At her words, I instinctively straightened my back, scanning the surroundings just as she was.

“Has there been some kind of conflict?”

“Not exactly, but it’s on the verge of breaking out. As you know, the Holy Sun Church—from its doctrines to its history—can never really have good relations with the demons.”

As she said this, her expression hardened coldly, as if everything from earlier had been nothing but an act.

I didn’t show it on my face, but I silently focused on her words.

“That’s why there’s been a lot of talk inside the Cathedral. Because…”

“…because when the Merchant Group of Demons arrived, those who followed them also settled down, and now demons and other non-humans come for the meals too?”

“Exactly.”

Lancia nodded firmly.

“Of course, we’re supposed to show grace to everyone, but people’s hearts aren’t so easily controlled. Even the kindest brothers and sisters, when serving demons or beastkin at the meals… it must have shown outwardly. That led to a few disturbances.”

“That really is a serious issue.”

A matter of public order.

That was something I’d never heard of in my previous life.

Certainly, a large merchant group was like a moving village, attracting beggars, wanderers, fortune-tellers, peddlers…

Even fugitives, gypsies, or witches would often trail behind them.

But for it to happen here, of all places—in the capital—and with the Merchant Group of Demons, and yet the handling of it was so poor….

‘Could it be that another turning point I don’t know about has already appeared somewhere?’

As I was pondering, Lancia gave me a sidelong glance before continuing.

“And then there are conflicts with those who used to receive the meals. It’s a mess in many ways. So, we’ve already reported the situation to the Church and requested support from the guards, but…”

“You mean nothing has been decided yet?”

“That’s right.”

She let out a small sigh and told me,

“I’m not doubting you, junior, but when there’s a storm, the best thing is to avoid it, not face it. More than anything, since you’re only a first-year… if you got tangled up in this, it could turn into something far more troublesome.”

By troublesome, she meant expulsion from the Academy.

Indeed, first-years were overwhelmingly the ones most often expelled.

That wasn’t only because first-years tended to cause more trouble, but also because the rules were applied far more strictly to them.

“And besides, your friend is already in a complicated situation as it is. If you got involved on top of that…”

“Understood, senior.”

I quietly nodded my head.

Indeed, what she had told me was something worth taking note of.

“Then I’ll either go alone, or as you said, take a break this time.”

“Yes… I just feel sorry somehow. You said it with good intentions.”

“Sorry? On the contrary, I’m only grateful that you worry about me like this.”

As we were talking, the bell from the clock tower began to ring.

It meant that the next class was about to begin, so I bowed my head to Lancia.

“I have a class right after this, so I’ll be going now, senior.”

“Ah, yes. Do well in your class, junior!”

Leaving her encouragement behind, I hurriedly ran off toward the training ground.

Perhaps that was why, or maybe it was just my imagination.

I thought I caught a glimpse of an expression on Lancia’s face—one so complex and indescribable, it defied words.

If I were to describe my impression of Professor Deiare’s class in a single sentence, it would be: What kind of flow is this class even supposed to follow?

Her lessons seemed systematic, yet when you looked deeper, they were all over the place.

But if you asked whether they were simply a disorganized mess, you couldn’t really say that either—there had never been a class so step-by-step and effective.

Professor Deiare’s classes were divided into four major stages.

And each stage had general rules attached.

First.

She gave a rough outline of the day’s lesson, then either Professor Deiare herself or one of her assistants would step forward to personally demonstrate.

The assistants who usually came forward were Pappleton, who had supervised my group in the previous common class, and a red-haired woman named Revice, the one who had warned us to watch our behavior.

Second.

Everyone had sparring time while keeping in mind what they had learned.

Some sparred with other groups, some with their own group.

Rarely, the assistants themselves would step in as opponents.

You could spar as many times as you wanted, but at least once was mandatory.

Third.

Professor Deiare merely stood on the platform and silently observed everyone.

At first, I thought she was just overseeing, but later, she would gather the students and go over what had happened in each spar one by one, giving different advice to each of them. That left me nothing short of astonished.

Because that meant she had kept her eyes on every single one of the sixty or so people sparring all over the place, without missing a single one.

Lastly, fourth.

Based on the advice just given, the assistants helped each student find points of improvement.

…Laying it all out like this, it sounded simple and systematic at first glance, but in practice, it was far more complicated and chaotic to experience.

However, one thing was certain: each time I attended her class, I could feel myself growing—so much that even I was surprised.

‘No wonder Professor Deiare would someday be respected by many heroes.’

Thinking that, I turned my eyes to the second stage.

During sparring time, I looked toward Allen, who was sparring with another student.

“I’ve learned much. Thank you.”

“…Tch. Thanks to you… I realized my shortcomings. Thank you.”

It was already his fourth opponent.

Yet Allen didn’t look like someone who had gone through three consecutive matches already.

His opponent, meanwhile, wasn’t in shambles, but was breathing heavily, on the verge of collapse.

It was clearly Allen’s overwhelming victory.

Since that day—

Since he had confided his troubles to me, since he had spoken as though realizing something—Allen had changed in many ways.

The gloom that used to hang around him was gone. Instead, he seemed oddly spirited, even refreshed.

That wasn’t to say his serious demeanor had disappeared, though.

To put it simply… yes.

As he had casually said himself, it was as though he had gained conviction in something—he radiated confidence.

I knew that for swordsmen, such enlightenment was important.

But to bring about such a dramatic change? That wasn’t common—I knew that too.

Of course, I had long known Allen’s physical abilities were exceptional. And, knowing that he would one day be called one of the Seven Heroes, I also knew his innate talent was far beyond reach.

But even so…

‘No matter what, this change is too much.’

Currently, Allen was seen as a thorn in the side of many.

Especially in Professor Deiare’s class, most were Hilts; the rest, Crowns or Dots.

In other words, the majority of students in this class looked at Allen with hostility.

In fact, many students ignored those right beside them and specifically challenged only Allen to spar.

And in the past few days, Allen’s win rate had been about seventy to eighty percent.

Meaning that in ten matches, he would win seven or eight.

A few days ago, he wouldn’t have even won half.

‘Of course, judging by results alone, this is by no means a bad thing…’

No, in fact, it was the change I had been waiting for.

And yet…

For some reason, unease lingered, and I couldn’t stop watching him.

“Are you worried about him?”

The voice came from Jeil Envarso, who had approached from behind me. I nodded.

“When someone fights consecutive matches, accidents are bound to happen.”

“I agree with your opinion.”

Envarso muttered in a calm voice.

“But hasn’t he been doing well these past days, making that worry seem needless?”

“Well, that’s true.”

“Then there’s no need to worry too much. Besides, with Professor Deiare and the assistants here, what major trouble could there be?”

Saying that, he tapped my shoulder.

“More importantly, haven’t you still not sparred with anyone yet? The sparring time will end soon, so you’d best choose someone quickly and ask for a match.”

I nodded at Envarso’s words.

Indeed, I had been so focused on watching Allen that I hadn’t sparred even once this session.

‘Who should I spar with…’

It was awkward in many ways to ask my group members.

First, there was Cruyak, the Orc, and Crouching Buffalo.

Cruyak wielded blunt weapons like a warhammer, which would have been valuable for me to

learn from.

But after a couple of bouts, he seemed unsatisfied and was reluctant to spar with me anymore.

As for Harira, she had shown no interest in me from the very beginning.

And since I had no good memories of werewolves, I only felt relieved that she had no interest in me.

The Lizardman, Br Riik Konafa, was a friendly sort, cheerful and easy to get along with.

But he seemed more interested in chatting than sparring.

After being scolded a couple of times, the two of us sparring together was implicitly banned.

As for the Third Prince, Behad…

He seemed to have some strange curiosity toward me, so he was the one I least wanted to get entangled with.

‘Which leaves me with this person, after all.’

The Elf, Jeil Envarso, was honestly the best sparring partner.

He handled many weapons well, and was especially knowledgeable in unusual weapons rarely used.

It was ironic that, though Elves were supposed to love nature, the weapon he most often used was the axe—a symbol of destruction of nature.

At any rate, the important thing was that he was an experienced warrior of great skill.

Sparring with him was less of a spar and more like receiving one-on-one instruction.

“Um, Envarso.”

Just as I finished my thoughts and was about to ask him for a spar again this time—

“I challenge you to a duel.”

Someone else spoke those words to me.

“Please accept, Lian.”

The challenger was none other than Allen.