Chapter 86 : Omen (4)

Chapter 86: Omen (4)

“Good work, everyone.”

As always, Professor Deiare began walking among the students.

It was to offer appropriate advice based on the sparring sessions that had just taken place.

“Phew… Today was no joke.”

“Hey, I can’t reach my back. Can you apply some ointment for me?”

“What? Don’t you know that a scar on the back is a disgrace to a swordsman? If you’ve got any shame, bite down on your sword and walk it off.”

“Walk where, you idiot? Quit spouting nonsense and just apply the ointment. It hurts like hell.”

Meanwhile, the students settled down in their own spots to take a short break.

This wasn’t something they were doing of their own accord—it was Professor Deiare’s directive.

Unlike what was commonly said about centauros, she didn’t impose unnecessary hierarchy or try to assert her dignity. She was a pragmatist through and through.

Clack, clack.

The distinctive sound of hooves echoed crisply.

It was the sound of her approaching, as she personally walked among the students.

Whenever she drew near, the students assumed it was their turn and immediately stood up to greet her politely.

Those nearby also stood up quickly and respectfully waited for their own turn.

This behavior had naturally taken root, having realized through just a handful of classes what a remarkable educator and exceptional warrior Deiare truly was.

“First of all…”

Then, as if she had been waiting, she delivered individually tailored, yet golden words of advice and observations to each student.

Her voice and demeanor, in contrast to the widespread belief that centauros were rough and wild, were impeccably polite, careful, and courteous.

“Up until the midpoint, your performance was abysmal, but your recovery afterward was quite commendable. Adaptability is important, and you have a fair degree of it. From what I can tell, instead of clumsily trying to refine techniques without direction, it would be more effective for you to first establish a solid foundation.”

“From my observation, you’re more suited to a sword than a polearm. You have a habit of gripping the shaft of long weapons too close to the base—I’ve paid close attention several times, but I saw no deliberate intention or strategy behind it. If you don’t like swords, then try a different weapon altogether. But let me be clear: gripping a polearm too close without reason or strategy is a foolish and ignorant act that discards the greatest advantage of such a weapon—its reach.”

“You’re too afraid. There’s a big difference between being cautious and simply being a coward. Just like there’s a difference between courage and recklessness. To be blunt, if you can’t overcome that trait, you might want to consider another path.”

…That said, her words were as sharp and harsh as could be.

Like an untamed warhorse pawing the ground menacingly, her words made hearts skip a beat.

Yet none of the students listening showed any sign of discomfort.

Some had grown accustomed to it after hearing it a few times and letting it slide, but more importantly, she always followed her criticisms with practical solutions.

“Even if we’re talking about fundamentals, there’s no need to touch on every area. Focus first on overall stamina, reflexes, and reaction time. I’ll inform the assistant in charge, so focus on training those aspects. You’re good at adapting in the moment—if your reaction speed improves, you’ll have more options at your disposal.”

“You seem to prefer halberds among the polearms. Since you use slashing, thrusting, hooking, and swinging all properly, it seems you enjoy attacking in varied ways. That might be why you don’t find swords appealing—am I right? …Good. Then go pick out a few weapons from the ones hanging back there. I’m sure you’ll find several that suit your style. Of course, continuing with the halberd is fine too, but polearms don’t suit you very well, so I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“How about trying a shield? Even a small one provides a level of reassurance no other weapon can. It’s been around for ages, so naturally, there are countless techniques and it’s quite powerful. Let’s start by building your confidence in direct engagements.”

Like that.

Deiare went around to every student, tirelessly offering advice and solutions for their issues.

Before long, she approached the area where we were resting.

Everyone, myself included, stood up.

Soon, Professor Deiare stood before us and began giving feedback and observations.

“First of all…”

Cruyak, Harira, and Br Riik Konafa.

The three who had been following the Third Prince Behad received feedback first.

Unlike the others, their feedback was filled with praise and encouragement.

‘Well, those three were pretty well known as Behad’s close aides in my past life too.’

Behad and Jeil Enbarso also received fairly typical comments.

Still, maybe it was because I had been aware of them from the start—or maybe because I already knew they weren’t ordinary.

But there seemed to be something weighted in Professor Deiare’s words.

“It wouldn’t hurt for you to take this a bit more seriously.”

“…Surely there’s something better than an axe.”

Maybe it was just my imagination, but her tone seemed noticeably softer when speaking to Jeil Enbarso.

While I was thinking that, she approached Allen and me, her neatly arranged blue hair swaying gently.

Golden eyes.

Her sharp black pupils scanned us.

“You…”

Professor Deiare walked toward me, not Allen.

It seemed I was first.

“First, you need to decide on your path.”

“My path, professor?”

“Yes. You’re in Crooks, aren’t you?”

Deiare examined me as if scanning every corner of my body.

“If you’re going down the path of a Holy Knight, I recommend continuing with the sword while also training your divine power. Strictly speaking, you lack talent, but your instincts and adaptability are exceptional. And… for some reason, you seem oddly experienced, like a seasoned mercenary.”

I made an effort not to react.

It seemed Professor Deiare meant it only as an analogy, as she continued speaking without any special reaction.

“But watching your sparring today confirmed it for me. You’ve handled other weapons besides swords. And I dare say you’re at least somewhat proficient with all of them. But that’s not necessarily a good thing. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

I nodded.

Seeing that, Professor Deiare also nodded.

“…It doesn’t seem like you’re just answering to move the conversation along. Good. If you already understand, I don’t need to elaborate. Continuing from what I was saying earlier—if you dabble in everything, you’ll end up good at nothing. It’s better to choose one thing and focus. You certainly have potential. But it’s only just enough that, if you fully commit to a single path, you might just blossom. You won’t become a master of all—sword, spear, whip, axe, bow—you can’t excel at them all. First, choose your direction. That is the most important decision you need to make.”

I nodded again.

There wasn’t a single thing in her words that I could disagree with.

Apparently out of things to say to me, Professor Deiare turned to look at Allen.

“You…”

Professor Deiare let out a sound that could’ve been either a sigh or a deep breath.

“Today’s sparring was the worst. Do you admit it?”

“Yes.”

“What made it so?”

Allen answered with his head lowered.

“You let yourself get provoked too easily. Because of that, what could’ve been an easy victory was dragged into a loss by your emotions. That’s what I meant.”

“You’re being far too kind and generous to yourself. Are those really the only two issues?”

Professor Deiare’s voice was sharp and scolding.

“You overestimated yourself and underestimated your opponent, despite being worn down from the earlier matches. Just as I said before, you made a foolish decision, unable to control your emotions in the heat of the moment. You squandered every advantage you had in an instant. You insisted on using a stance that didn’t suit you, without proper practice or training. And what’s more—you took three consecutive hits, meaning the match was already over, but you refused to yield and prolonged the spar, pointlessly injuring your opponent.”

“If this had been a real fight, you would’ve died with your intestines spilling out. Never, even for a moment, think that you can overcome such a situation with mere spirit or willpower. You were struck in the most critical of vital points—places that could physically kill someone in under a minute. And even though you knew that, you let your stubbornness drag the match on. Do you admit it?”

“…I won’t make any excuses. It was all due to my own foolishness.”

Allen bowed deeply, and Professor Deiare said nothing more.

Instead, she merely exchanged a brief glance with the blue-haired assistant beside her—Pappleton.

“For you, the most urgent task is to control yourself. For the remainder of class, sit still and meditate.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And…”

Professor Deiare’s voice lowered slightly.

“…Come to my office after class.”

Because we need to finish our previous conversation.

Professor Deiare murmured it like a quiet whisper.

It wasn’t hard to figure out that she was referring to the offer she had previously made to Allen—the one he’d once confessed to me—about taking him in as her apprentice.

After class, I was wandering aimlessly through the academy’s park alone.

Partly because I hadn’t taken a walk in a while, and partly to clear my cluttered mind.

—I’m sorry, Lian. It seems the conversation will take longer than expected… Please go on ahead today.

—And as for what happened today… I have nothing to say except that I’m sorry. Just as Professor Deiare said, my stubbornness caused you harm. I apologize again.

Leaving those words behind, Allen followed after Professor Deiare.

Originally, I had planned to have a meal with him, and under the pretext of discussing the upcoming supplementary class next week, I intended to gauge how he was doing…

But now, my schedule had suddenly opened up.

“Hmm…”

What should I do with this leftover time?

Well, maybe their conversation would end sooner than expected, so I might as well wait around.

As I pondered that and wandered through the park—

“Huh?”

“Ah, Professor.”

I happened to run into Professor Yul Runberg, who was sitting on a bench—apparently also out on a walk.

When he saw me, he flashed a friendly, easygoing smile.

“You’re Lian Gwendil, correct?”

“…You remembered my name?”

I asked in genuine surprise.

It wasn’t even an elective class—just a shared course—and we hadn’t crossed paths many times. I never imagined he’d remember my name.

“Haha, we cleaned the lecture hall together the other day, didn’t we? That’s why I remembered.”

“Ah.”

I nodded at his response.

With a slight grunt, Yul Runberg stood up from the bench.

“Since we’ve run into each other like this, would you care to join me for a walk?”

His sudden offer caught me off guard, and I hesitated.

But he simply smiled again—a smile that now carried a hint of playfulness.

Known for his striking appearance, he seemed like someone my own age, even though he had long since passed thirty.

“I actually have something to tell you.”

He glanced around casually before continuing.

“To be precise, it’s about Allen.”

With those words, I had no choice but to nod.

“Kyren.”

At the sound of his name, Kyren Amiel’s eyelids, peacefully closed in meditation, twitched.

He felt a twinge of irritation at having his usual meditation time disrupted and looked toward the one who had interrupted him.

“…What is it?”

It was a male student—also the assistant of Professor Yul Runberg.

Though he was of common birth, he was a student with exceptional talent and ability.

With his bold and cheerful personality, Kyren had quickly grown close to him. Their friendship had now lasted over three years.

“It’s about Allen Amiel.”

At those words, Kyren’s expression twisted in an instant.

But he calmed the storm in his chest and looked at the student who had spoken.

“I clearly told you not to mention or talk about him until I brought him up myself, remember?”

“I remember.”

The student, Birek, nodded.

“I also remember you said I should only bring him up if you started first.”

Kyren nodded again.

Birek—his friend—wasn’t someone who would prod at another’s sore spots for no reason.

Thinking there must be a reason, Kyren adjusted his posture and asked.

“Right. You remember. So for you to bring him up, something must’ve happened?”

“Yeah. Something that made me think you needed to know as soon as possible.”

Birek said that as he stepped a few paces closer to Kyren.

Kyren showed no sign of doubt as he watched Birek approach.

“What is it?”

“…Well, it’s…”

Birek spoke cautiously.

“Apparently, Professor Deiare invited him to become her apprentice.”

How did Kyren’s face change at that?

Just as expected, Birek simply furrowed his brows slightly at the sight of Kyren’s reaction.

The next day.

Even though it was the weekend, the rumors and slander aimed at Allen began to spread once again.