Chapter 39: Yesterday Clairvoyance - Abel Argento Special (3)
Abel Argento is a Sword Saint.
It's not a prediction. It's a clear certainty.
Joshua believed so without a doubt.
‘They're flustered. Both the teacher and the disciple…….’
Beyond the pile of documents, a smile spread across Joshua's lips.
The two people visible through the gap in the papers. Abel's and Monika's expressions had hardened.
‘Good. A beautiful scene.’
To Joshua, all things were nothing more than material.
Scenery, objects, and even people. They were just raw materials mobilized to be woven into sentences. A person who writes had a need to perceive everything as letters. Just as a lump of plaster becomes a goddess statue by a sculptor, and even the sound of rain becomes a tone by a musician.
Ah, yes.
A truly impressive passage.
Joshua diagnosed so. Over there, there is a man who is a Sword Saint. There is also the man's disciple. The crack that has formed on the Sword Saint's expression. The disciple's complexion, as if she has indigestion. It was a a satisfying reaction. Aren't they like characters in a mystery novel who have met a sudden turn of events?
“──Ahahaha!”
Meanwhile, Monika burst into laughter.
“A Sword Saint? A Swoord Saaint?”
The back of Monika's hand brushed against her temple. It was to wipe away her cold sweat. She opened her mouth to play dumb, since the fact that Abel was a Sword Saint was a top secret among top secrets.
“Did you hear that, Teacher Abel? They say you're a Sword Saint.”
Monika said, patting Abel's thigh.
“That was the funniest joke I've heard all year. To think Teacher Abel is a Sword Saint. If so, then I must be the Hero, right? His Holiness the Pope's hobby is raising earthworms. And His Majesty the Emperor's greatest fear must be an ingrown toenail.”
“Monika.”
Abel whispered into Monika's ear.
“Your acting is terrible.”
“I know! I'm doing this because of you, Teacher!”
Monika growled in a thread-like voice. Though the corners of her mouth had twisted for a moment, Abel's expression had become as indifferent as usual. He hadn't been flustered in the first place. The emotion Abel had felt upon hearing Joshua's words was nothing more than weariness.
‘……How troublesome.’
Abel thought, letting out a sigh.
If it were up to him, he would want to announce it. That he himself was a Sword Saint.
It would be found out someday. The moment when he would have to reveal that he was from another world would also come. There was a limit to restraining the professors with a vow spell. It was just as ridiculous to hide his power to conceal his identity. And above all, Abel knew well. The fact that he was not good at bluffing.
‘But it's not time yet.’
A Sword Saint was different from a mere military force.
It was close to a legend possessed by the Platinum Round Table Orthodoxy.
A master of the sword, wrapped in white armor. The records about them were historic. It was said that they roamed the entire world while hiding their identities in peacetime, and revealed themselves at every historical moment.
‘If I reveal my identity, too many gazes will be focused on me.’
And that wasn't all.
The two Sword Saints besides Abel.
There would also be restrictions on their activities.
“Joshua Readmore.”
And so, Abel opened his mouth.
“To think you'd call me a Sword Saint. What a bewildering article title.”
“Bewildering, and at the same time, captivating. Like the lips of a witch holding a secret.”
“What does a witch's lips have to do with a Sword Saint?”
“It's a metaphor, a metaphor.”
“I see. Are you certain that I am a Sword Saint.”
“Of course.”
“State your grounds.”
“……Hmm.”
Joshua peeked at Abel through the gap in the papers.
He had a steadfast air. A formidable opponent indeed. Joshua was impressed. For maintaining indifference must also be an accomplishment of a Sword Saint.
The current situation is like a scene from a popular novel. That was how Joshua had analyzed it. Abel was the protagonist who had to keep a secret. Joshua was close to a supporting character with insight.
‘Shall I tell him specially.’
That was why Joshua had made up his mind.
To diligently decorate the scene unfolding before him.
“Professor Argento, do you know what the most important element in a mystery novel is?”
“I have never read a mystery novel.”
“Oh dear, you've missed out on half of life's pleasures. Then, Miss Lohengrin, would you please answer?”
“Monika is not skilled at reading. She's clumsy at writing and clumsy at reading.”
“……Teacher Abel?”
Monika's eyes shot open.
She stared at Abel as she was, then crossed her legs and let out a hollow laugh.
“I've read plenty of mystery novels. And I've even guessed the culprit quite a few times.”
“Self-overestimation is forbidden, Monika. You must have read at most children's books.”
“──Teacher Abel!”
Keueueu……, and.
Monika, who had been groaning with her teeth clenched, shouted.
“The culprit's trick! The most important element in a mystery novel is that!”
“Incorrect.”
Joshua denied flatly.
“What's important is the process of deduction. No matter how ingenious the culprit's trick is, it's useless if the process of revealing it is shabby.”
Do you understand, Miss Lohengrin.
It means that direction is needed, and.
Joshua muttered in a low voice.
“A mansion's banquet hall, or the top of a cruise ship. Or the middle of an abandoned theater. A detective begins his deduction on a diligently decorated stage. Just like now.”
“……Joshua.”
Abel scratched the back of his neck.
“Your make-believe is too long-winded. Cut to the chase and state your grounds.”
“Well now. You don't know romance, Professor.”
Why is Abel Argento a Sword Saint?
He could give a few grounds. For example, the rumors circulating within CIAR. The man who had been suspected of being an apostate until a while ago was now being expected to be a Sword Saint.
And rightly so. Since he had destroyed dozens of warships in an instant. It was absurd for the skill of a mere general. And what about his discerning eye for seeing through talent? The innate Aura user, Monika Lohengrin. Abel had contributed greatly to her admission. It was a fact confirmed through his research so far.
‘But…….’
Joshua shook his head.
‘So what about it.’
They were all useless pieces of information.
A crucial foreshadowing is a law that is written in an unexpected paragraph.
Joshua declared with a smile.
“The first ground, Tarkan Espoke.”
……Tarkan?
Monika tilted her head. Why was the name of the half-orc who had been occupying the slums being recited? It was a strange thing in the first place. Why would Joshua know Tarkan?
“The second ground, Frozen Color.”
……Frozen Color?
Abel's expression became blank. For what reason were their names being recited? They must be a criminal organization that is stationed near the Demon Realm and operates beyond national borders.
- This body is being supported by them.
At that moment, Tarkan's voice, brushing against Abel's mind.
- If you harm me, they won't let you go.
Was it not a bluff?
Abel nodded his head with his arms crossed.
“Tarkan was receiving aid from Frozen Color. It seems he was a kind of intermediary. After making a non-aggression pact with the Capital Defense Force through a bribe, it seems he helped a member of Frozen Color to infiltrate the capital.”
“Is that certain information.”
“Of course.”
Joshua's voice became small.
“Because my grandfather, Dominique Readmore, covered it.”
Dominique Readmore.
Also known as Dominique of the Fang Quill.
It was a name Abel had heard before. The editor-in-chief of the Holy Numeros Empire's largest mass media outlet, the ‘Daily Watcher’. A writer who was evaluated to kill people by biting them with his sentences.
If it was a fact revealed through Dominique's coverage, there was no room for refutation. It would be reported everywhere soon. Thinking so, Abel brushed back his hair.
“Did you tell your grandfather too. That I am a Sword Saint.”
“No.”
Joshua smiled softly.
“Because my goal is to catch up to my grandfather. My grandfather also wishes for me to do so.”
“That's a relief. Because I am not a Sword Saint.”
“Ah, well……, I did expect you would say that. But……”
“Yes. You must have thought this.”
Abel recited the grounds that Joshua had prepared.
“The most important fact is one.”
Frozen Color does not let a grudge go.
Though Tarkan was nothing more than a pawn, they had seen a loss sufficient to be a cause for revenge. Since they had lost one of the passages to invade the capital. It was only right that the assassins belonging to Frozen Color would move.
But Abel was fine. The reasons were twofold. He had either dealt with the assassins as they came, or there had been no retaliation in the first place. Either way, it was clear that it was an unusual situation.
“The assassins of Frozen Color are strong. They are all big shots of the underworld without exception. It's not an opponent that a Holy Knight who was a former general can face. You might have thought so, but……”
Abel's gaze narrowed.
“……You must have come to a different conclusion. It seems you believe there was no retaliation.”
“Correct. There must have been no retaliation. No matter how much of a professor you are, you wouldn't be able to fight them without a trace.”
“And the fact that there was no retaliation means……”
“Was it because they were afraid of attracting attention? That can't be. Rather, they prefer to leave a mark. There is only one reason to give up on retaliation.”
Abel's name is on the list.
With a considerable notoriety. In the information network of the underworld.
Joshua was certain of that. The depth of the information that went back and forth in the underworld was unclear, but Frozen Color would be proficient in intelligence gathering. The largest criminal organization in Epezeria. A Holy Knight who would make even them hesitate to retaliate. If that man was Abel Argento…….
“I can't help but conclude.”
That the possibility of him being a Sword Saint is high.
Joshua whispered so.
“That is a plausible deduction.”
Abel answered obediently.
“As you predicted, I did not receive any retaliation.”
It was the truth.
Though he had been on guard everywhere, the traces of an assassin were not seen. In the first place, Abel had considered Tarkan's words to be a bluff.
When was the last time he had faced Frozen Color? It must have been at least 5 years ago. It was the job of the Strategist and the Inspector among ‘The Mother God's Left Hand’ to stop them, who were stationed near the Demon Realm.
“But that is not because I am a Sword Saint.”
Now it's time to lie.
Abel's mouth closed firmly. Monika's gaze shifted to Abel, and Joshua propped his chin on his hand from beyond the pile of documents.
Amidst the heavy silence that had descended,
“I'll tell you specially.”
Abel's voice, spreading coldly.
“The reason why I did not receive retaliation from Frozen Color……”
Abel thought desperately.
Joshua Readmore. What kind of lie should I use to convince that suspicious boy?
“A friend……. A friend of mine is an executive of Frozen Color.”
“……Teacher? Did you get a knife in your head?”
Monika's eyes widened.
Is he saying that as an excuse now? The friend of a Holy Knight is an executive of Frozen Color. What nonsense. It was a lie that even a heron peeking in from outside the window would laugh at.
“And the reason why I am exceptionally strong for a former general……”
But Abel's expression was endlessly sharp.
Momentum was a law that was important. To spread a lie, one had to have a proper stance, Abel thought.
“A fairy……. When I was young, a fairy gave me strength.”
“Is……, that so? A fairy……, gave you strength.”
A sense of dismay was tinged in Joshua's voice.
He repeated his thoughts in his head. To think he would give such an absurd explanation. So you're going to come out like that. Joshua bit his lower lip. Abel's intention was as clear as day.
“……Alright, Professor Argento.”
It's a clear provocation.
Try writing an article.
Try reporting it to the students of CIAR.
Try approaching the hidden truth to your heart's content.
“Very……, I understand very well.”
That man is saying so.
“So that was the situation.”
While putting on a show with all his might, Joshua strengthened his competitive spirit.
‘……Yes.’
Joshua's hand swept across the desk. The draft of the article reporting that Abel was a Sword Saint. Gripping it, he raised the corners of his mouth.
‘Let's have a go, Professor Argento.’
‘……Good.’
Meanwhile, Abel also wore a faint smile.
He nodded his head and stared out the window.
‘It seems he believed me.’
‘No, no, no!’
Monika's lips opened into a circle.
Her unfocused eyes shifted to Abel.
‘Joshua-sunbae is being sarcastic!’
Please, Teacher.
Why are you relieved and falling down!
* * *
Evening, the Vice President's office of Cia-Harphe Academy.
Amidst the sparkling eyes of the dolls surrounding all sides,
“It's been a while, Professor Argento.”
Konstanze opened her mouth, wiping her glasses.
“Have you been well in the meantime?”
“Thanks to you.”
Abel nodded his head.
“It was so quiet I was getting bored.”
It had been about a month. His private meeting with Konstanze.
Though Abel had been at leisure, Konstanze had been busy. The group of warships that had surrounded CIAR. It was the Vice President's duty to take responsibility for the fear that had become rampant because of it.
To create an atmosphere to seal the students' worries. To discuss with the insiders of the imperial family who were watching CIAR, to testify, and to devise a countermeasure in case a similar situation were to occur. They were all problems that Konstanze had been engrossed in.
“I was impressed.”
Abel said, looking around.
“You were holding your ground well. Even while various departments were putting pressure on CIAR.”
“Of course, of course.”
Konstanze let out a sigh.
A bundle of quill pens was decorating the empty air. Following that, fluttering papers. The signed documents were being arranged on one side of the desk. A service proposal to be submitted to the Capital Defense Force, a detailed report to be submitted to the Imperial Special Task Force, and a draft proposal to be submitted to the Inquisition Bureau. A mountain of documents to be processed remained.
“……Really, it's a situation where even a hundred bodies wouldn't be enough.”
Konstanze's clones were also just as busy.
The private spell that could use 99 clones, ‘The Endless Puppet Show’.
Through it, Konstanze was achieving more than one person. Not only was she personally inspecting all aspects of CIAR, but she was also repeatedly going on business trips to various parts of the empire.
“Has the Duke of Orléans not arrived yet?”
One of the many ball-jointed dolls.
Abel asked, looking into an old girl's doll.
Abel, Konstanze, and Iris.
The three were scheduled to have a secret meeting for the future of CIAR.
“That child is self-centered.”
A faint smile spread across Konstanze's lips.
“She's been like that since she was young. Not only did she break her promises, but she also liked exploring remote regions. She even had an argument with the clerics during a service.”
“I was aware that you two had deepened your friendship. The Duke of Orléans told me.”
“That child said such a thing?”
Konstanze chuckled.
“Iris was wary of everyone. From a very young age. She didn't consider anyone a friend, and established her relationships based on her interests. It's not that I don't understand. The power struggle in her family was severe.”
Konstanze's head tilted to the side.
Her crimson hair, flowing down her shoulder. Konstanze continued, brushing it back.
“She was always lacking in leisure.”
Konstanze recalled the face of the young Iris.
A air as if a frail girl's body had been filled with ice. The Iris that Konstanze remembered was always stern.
“Even when she was attending CIAR, it was like that. My school life was very peaceful. I would fall asleep after talking with my friends all night. Iris couldn't do that. Because of the assassins sent by her siblings.”
It must have been hard. She must have been scared.
Konstanze whispered so.
“That would not have been so.”
Abel said, shrugging his shoulders.
For Iris, a battle with an assassin was just a game. The reason she maintained her wariness was to seize the initiative. If she had shown any leisure, even more assassins would have been dispatched. She probably didn't want to increase the casualties by beating them all to death.
Abel knew well of Iris's strength.
In terms of pure physical strength, even Abel could not surpass Iris.
“……Ah, right.”
At that moment, the sound of an arched door opening.
“There was a time like that.”
Iris entered the Vice President's office.
The hem of her unadorned pitch-black dress undulated. Beyond the black mesh veil, Iris's light pink eyes held a sharp color.
“You're late, Iris!”
Konstanze frowned.
“Do you know what time it is? You were always like this. Ever since you were young……”
“You're right.”
Iris crossed her arms.
“I have never once kept a promise.”
Abel's gaze narrowed.
The two people, standing with the desk between them. The air between Konstanze and Iris was unusual. Though Konstanze's expression was endlessly relaxed, the energy extending from Iris was a distinct chill.
‘No, it's different.’
It's not a chill, but a killing intent.
Abel judged so.
“Konstanze von Theresia. My cute childhood friend. I have so much to apologize to that child for.”
Iris's hand reached out towards Konstanze. A gentle gesture, as if handling expensive fabric. Iris wore a smile, stroking Konstanze's head.
“But it's nauseating.”
At that moment, a flurry of light in Iris's hand.
A magic circle spread on the back of her hand, which held a radiance. Abel interpreted the spell based on the pattern of the magic circle. A spell to identify the inside of Konstanze, to control her body, and to dominate her brain. Iris was injecting divine power into Konstanze's mind.
“I didn't want to hear such things from someone like you.”
Like a disgusting doll.
Iris whispered so.
“Explain, Iris.”
Abel said in a low voice.
Iris's gaze turned to Abel. Konstanze, trembling as if she had lost her soul. Abel, who had hardened his wariness. Iris, who had been looking back and forth between the two, let out a sigh.
“There's nothing to explain, Abel.”
Iris's firm expression relaxed.
With the benevolence of a Saintess, not a ruthless noble, Iris whispered to Abel.
“All the Stanzis you've seen are fakes.”
Konstanze's trembling body stiffened.
“This individual is just a doll that governs a swarm.”
Iris's divine power circulated within Konstanze's body. After disturbing the magic that had feigned to be blood, it encroached upon the sturdily completed internal organs. Konstanze's unfocused eyes. Iris's face was faintly captured on their surface.
“Stanzi's private spell failed. It's a fact that only I know. It was so perfectly simulated. Even the members of the Theresia family don't know.”
I am protecting the real Stanzi.
Iris muttered so, and,
[……Anomaly detected.]
Konstanze whispered as if in reply.
It was the toneless voice of a doll.
[Please complete the qualification verification process.]