Chapter 45: O Prayer, Do Not Reach (1)
Cia-Harphe Academy's 0th Academic Hall, also known as the ‘Professor's Tower’.
As the early morning sunlight colored the classroom,
“Roberta Sinclair.”
Abel let out a sigh.
“I praise you. Today's trap was also interesting.”
“Lies!”
Roberta, a third-year student from the Department of Divinity, pouted her lips.
The Sinclair family was a renowned house of weapon forging. Roberta, a member of the family, also had a talent for crafting tools. Perhaps because of this, she would often set traps to play pranks on the professors.
Making stern professors let out shrill screams, making kind professors inadvertently spew curses, thus stripping away the professors' facades was one of Roberta's hobbies.
“Again, again, again, Professor, you fell into the trap on purpose!”
To such a Roberta, Abel was a natural enemy.
Because he didn't show even the slightest hint of agitation. Even though he had seen through the trap's location, he would obediently fall for it, and at times, would only offer advice, and at other times, criticism.
“I can't understand. Professor, you're a pervert. Right? You're getting excited by purposely falling for my traps, right?”
“I am not a pervert.”
Abel swept his hair back.
His ash-like silver hair was soaked in mud. It was a pile of dirt transferred through a magic circle inscribed on the ceiling.
“A smuggler, a thief, a kidnapper, a drug addict, an arsonist, a monster fetishist, nor a murderous maniac. Go and sit in your seat. I look forward to the next trap.”
“Just you wait, Professor! I'll make you fall over in surprise.”
By the way, what’s a monster fetishist? How ridiculous.
Roberta ground her teeth and headed to her seat. Her roundly curled vermilion hair swayed.
Abel stood facing the lectern. There were a total of five students in Abel’s class. Even though the morning assembly was imminent, two seats were empty. Roberta, sitting in the very front seat, burning with a fierce glint in her eyes; Monika, dozing off, overwhelmed by sleepiness; Fleur, glancing at Monika and smiling brightly. The other two were……,
“Demian, and Ernst.”
Creek, he went.
Abel called their names as he threw open the window.
“At this rate, you two will be late. Come before it’s too late.”
“──S-S-S, save me, Professor!”
Ernst shouted, squeezing his eyes shut. Demian was climbing the outer wall of the academic hall, his ashen eyes shining, with Ernst’s body tied up with a rope.
“Don't twist your body, Er.”
Demian gripped the bricks that made up the outer wall.
“If we fall, we both die.”
“That’s why, you crazy bastard, why the hell are you rock climbing every day!”
“To overcome fear. Fear is unnecessary for a true knight.”
Demian's gaze was sharply honed.
That’s right. It was all because of fear. That’s what Demian thought. After his duel with Abel, Demian had recalled that moment over and over again. His understanding of swordsmanship, of course, but also his agility, wit, improvisation, and aura. He realized the gap between him and Abel in every aspect.
‘Things like that didn't matter.’
Realizing the gap with one's teacher and strengthening one's fighting spirit.
It was a trial one had to go through to become a true knight.
The problem was fear. Exchanging the final blow with Abel, Demian, sprawled on the sand, was engulfed in fear. It was not a fear of defeat. It was a fear of death. The off-white aura that tore through even the finest steel. No. It was the fear of the Sword Saint who had shattered dozens of warships.
“Professor Argento!”
Demian shouted, raising his head.
“I, Demian Fernando von Farenheit! Read ‘Yesterday Clairvoyance’ a few days ago! I learned that you are the Sword Saint! I have been training ever since for a rematch!”
“I am not the Sword Saint.”
Abel turned his head with a blank expression.
“But the headline of the article said Sword Saint…….”
“Demiannn!”
Ernst growled, biting his lower lip.
“You believed Joshua Readmore? That guy is a crazy bookworm! I saw that special issue you're talking about! It was full of utter nonsense! Forget it and just hurry up and climb!”
“Er, I can feel the fear in your voice. You too must overcome your fear.”
Demian muttered with a resolute expression.
“We both promised to become true knights.”
“We were seven-year-olds who picked our noses and ate it back then, you son of a bitch! It was when we used to play hero in the back mountain!”
“I remember it too. They were days I could never forget.”
Hero, what a righteous name.
Towards Demian who smiled as he muttered so,
“It's time.”
Abel extended his hand.
The sound of a bell followed. It was the signal announcing the start of the morning assembly.
“Hold my hand and come up. I'll spare you from being late. If you refuse, it’s a demerit.”
“Ugh……”
Demian let out a pained sound.
All of this was a process leading to a rematch, so how could he hold hands with his opponent?
“……I'll take it. A true knight must not have demerits.”
Grip, he went.
Demian grabbed Abel’s hand.
A pleasant feeling of ascent followed. It felt as if they had become feathers. Abel lightly lifted the two boys up. He’s no ordinary person after all. Thinking so, Demian stared at Abel. A faint smile settled on Abel’s indifferent expression.
“My victory again, young master.”
“Yo, yoyoyo, yo……”
Demian’s complexion turned red as if a candle had licked it.
“──Don't call me young master!”
Amidst the sound of the bell,
A shrill shout decorated the dawn.
.
.
.
“I will be conducting individual interviews in a few days.”
Abel said, writing the date on the blackboard.
Five students were staring at Abel. They were all students who possessed their own talents without exception. CIAR intended to form classes by gathering students who needed ample support, and then have the supervising professor of each class observe the students’ development process.
“So visit me after your daily schedule is over. Also, Roberta Sinclair.”
“Why?”
At Abel's call, Roberta raised her hand high.
“Professor Engels from the Department of Elemental Studies was looking for you. You set a trap in his lab, didn't you? Because of that, his lecture was canceled. He’s planning to reprimand you, so don't run away.”
“Tch!”
Roberta clicked her tongue.
“I just released a toad in the lab……”
“Professor Engels is allergic to toad oil.”
“Well, I knew that, but……”
“You exploited your opponent’s weakness. It was excellent. Next time, try pouring toad oil on his face.”
“If I did that, it wouldn’t end with a reprimand.”
My goodness, why am I saying such things?
Roberta puffed out her chest with her arms crossed. Her pride was hurt. A nasty prank should be the work of a troublemaker, but Abel’s advice felt like the scheme of a villain.
“Next, Ernst von Tresckow.”
“……Yes, I'm still alive.”
Ernst said with a listless expression.
“A letter came saying your grandmother, Countess Tresckow, is critically ill. It must have been delivered to you as well. You don’t have to attend tomorrow’s lecture. Go and visit your grandmother.”
“Haa……”
Ernst let out a sigh.
“That’s a feigned illness. It’s my grandmother’s hobby.”
“They said a malignant tumor has metastasized to her heart, are you saying that’s a lie?”
“That’s right. My grandmother is hale and hearty. Because she suffered when she was young, she feigns illness now that she's old. She feigns illness whenever she wants to see me. Because she's skilled at petty tricks.”
“A plausible stratagem. I’ll refer to it later.”
“……Are you in your right mind, Professor.”
What a mischievous old hag.
Ernst thought, touching his sweat-drenched hair. It felt as if the whole world was tormenting him. His grandmother was a malingerer, and his best friend was a madman who climbed a stone tower every morning.
“Young master, I have something to tell you as well.”
“It’s not young master, it’s Demian Fernando von Farenheit!”
Demian's eyes contorted.
“I see. I'll keep that in mind. A letter came from your father. No. I should call him the head of the family, shouldn't I? A letter came from the head of the great Farenheit family, the greatest swordsmanship family in the Empire. He said he plans to pass down some petty tricks to you soon. No. My apologies. My tongue got twisted. He said he plans to pass down the secret techniques to you.”
“……A true knight is not provoked.”
Demian muttered, staring at his desk.
“Of course. That's why I'm teasing you to my heart's content. You must be happy to inherit the secret techniques.”
“The secret techniques of the Farenheit family are the essence of swordsmanship……. I will inherit them and have a rematch with the professor……”
“I won’t do it. Because it’s scary.”
“Don’t lie! You’re not scared at all!”
“No. I am scared. The Farenheit family’s secret swordsmanship techniques. It’s as frightening as a peddler with a switch.”
So mean. Why me……. No, it's not.
Demian desperately shook his head. A true knight must not be provoked. Professor Argento is testing me. Just as Demian thought so and was composing his breath,
“Fleur de Saint-Pierre.”
At Abel's call, Fleur did not answer.
She merely stared at Abel with a smile on her face. A mysterious chill seeped into her brightly curved eyes. It was difficult for Abel to grasp her intentions.
I really hate you, Fleur had declared to Abel a few days ago. What could be the reason? Abel shrugged his shoulders with a small question in his mind.
“The Inquisition Bureau summoned you. Go to the Naflansee Cathedral sometime next week.”
“I shall.”
Fleur answered firmly.
“I received a letter saying they need my help. The invasion incident that occurred a month ago……. It seems they intend to revive some of the rebels who died at that time. It must be to interrogate their intentions. Even though it's a daunting task for a girl who is not yet an adult. Right?”
“You must be right.”
Abel nodding his head.
“I will send a letter to the Inquisition Bureau. I will tell them to assign the task to another evangelist. There are many evangelists who can use the Resuscitation Ceremony besides you.”
“No, I will take it. What do you mean there are many evangelists who can use the Resuscitation Ceremony? There are only three besides me. They are all on standby in the Papal States. It's an urgent matter, so I must help.”
“You don't have to.”
“Why are you deciding that, Professor? The Inquisition Bureau needed me.”
Hiss, she went.
Fleur inhaled the cold air. Her clear expression froze as if it were frozen.
An uncomfortable silence. Was it because of the sharp exchange of voices? Monika, who had been dozing off, opened her eyes. After witnessing Abel standing there with a blank expression, she glanced at Fleur who was glaring at Abel.
“Monika Lohengrin.”
Suddenly, Abel's gaze turned to Monika.
“Starting today, stop by the prayer room after lunch. Professor Arcturus will be conducting supplementary classes. You lacked the process of honing your divine power. Cultivate your foundation through Professor Arcturus.”
“Ah, yes……”
Monika nodded her head.
It was true that she needed separate education. She was only able to use Aura, but she hadn't gone through the necessary training to study the scriptures. In terms of divinity, Monika's knowledge was at a beginner's level. Although Aura and divine power were fundamentally the same power, Monika hadn't gone through the process of mastering the foundation.
“This concludes the morning assembly.”
Abel placed both hands on the lectern.
“I will ask one last question.”
Gentlemen, he said.
Abel asked in a low voice.
“Why do you not stab me in the back?”
Stab the professor in the back with a knife.
Success within the period is a pass. Failure is a fail. There is no difference in score. Failures are scheduled for special training during the vacation period.
Such was Abel's class's semester assignment, but there was only one student who took those words seriously.
“……Professor Argento.”
Thus, Monika gently raised her hand.
“Just get out of here, please.”
Because it felt like someone had to say something.
* * *
Afternoon, the campus of Cia-Harphe Academy.
As the cold wind shook the high branches of the trees,
“──Urp!”
Monika covered her lips.
[That is incorrect, Lady Monika. It is not right to feel nauseous after eating my lunch box. You must tell me it was delicious. You must tell me it was the best. You must praise me for my excellent cooking skills.]
“……Yes, Mr. Fabien. Your cooking skills are amazing.”
Monika's complexion was ashen.
It must have been since her visit to the Brilliant Sun Royal Palace. Just smelling food made her feel nauseous, and even just looking at it was difficult. She even had a dream last night. A dream where she faced a corpse that had died from its stomach bursting. It was a symptom that appeared after eating the banquet Iris had provided.
‘Was there some spoiled ingredient mixed in?’
That couldn't be. It was food she ate at the Imperial Palace, no less.
Monika thought, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. The strange thing was none other than her memory. Her consciousness had become hazy during the meal, and when she came to, she was asleep, slumped over the table. The heaps of food were long gone. Beyond the empty plates, Iris was holding a teacup.
‘What on earth happened?’
Monika let out a sigh.
She felt like she was going to throw up, but there was no time to rest.
Now that she had finished lunch, she had to go see Professor Arcturus.
[Lady Monika, if you are feeling unwell, how about you tell Professor Argento.]
Fabien said, following behind Monika.
“No, it's okay. It’s bearable.”
Muttering so, Monika took a step, and,
- Could it be that the Duke of Orléans put poison in the food? To kill Monika. To have Professor Argento all to herself.
- Melisha, please! Did someone put poison in your brain? How can you have such a delusion? The Duke of Orléans is in love with Professor Argento, and at the same time, considers Monika a rival?
- Yeah. What's wrong with that?
- It's a sad and passionate, and at the same time, a magnificent tragedy……
- See. Sasha likes it too.
The peer janitors followed Monika, laughing.
“Guys, it's not like that, so please just……”
Monika grumbled, looking back at the peer janitors, and,
- I know, Monika. I was just joking.
- But I think it's plausible. Professor Argento is cool, isn't he? He even saved CIAR. So it wouldn't be strange for someone like the Duke of Orléans to have feelings for him…….
- Sasha, you've watched too many plays by the wandering troupe.
- But Trisha, they said the play was based on a true story.
The peer janitors began to walk ahead of Monika.
They said they were just on their way to clean the prayer room. The expressions of Trisha, Melisha, and Sasha were as cheerful as usual, but the gestures of carrying the cleaning tools looked somewhat tired. It was because of the CIAR invasion incident that had occurred a month ago.
Dozens of warships had surrounded the floating island, but in the end, the damage was minimal. No one died, and the injured also recovered without any aftereffects. It was thanks to defending against the flooding shells with a barrier. The problem was that the ground had shaken. Because of that, the aging buildings had collapsed.
For instance, the break room for the janitors.
‘Should I tell them to rest in my dormitory until it’s rebuilt?’
Monika thought, looking at the backs of the peer janitors.
‘……It's a little embarrassing.’
Because she had never let others into her residence.
Even when she was living in the slums, and after she had settled in CIAR.
Abel was the first for everything. No one else had ever crossed the threshold of her entrance.
[Lady Monika.]
Meanwhile, Fabien spoke to her in a polite tone.
[I have conducted an investigation regarding Professor Arcturus.]
“An investigation?”
[Yes. It is also the duty of a golem to sense the others its master will meet.]
Why are there so many duties?
Monika scratched the back of her neck.
She knew little about Professor Arcturus. She had only heard that he was a former high-ranking cleric and that he had authored a few theoretical books. She had never even met him in the first place. Professor Arcturus's lectures were a course that was too difficult for Monika.
[I hear that he has completely memorized the scriptures of the Platinum Round Table Orthodoxy, ‘Soteriology’ and ‘Eschatology’.]
“Both of those books? They were as thick as bricks.”
[He seems to be a person who truly believes in and follows the Main Gods. Of course, I do not know what sincerity is, and I do not know much about what faith is, but……]
That's right, he said.
Fabien continued in a small voice.
[They say he prays with his knees hitting the bare floor. Without missing a single day, without rest. Wouldn't that be enough to prove his sincere faith?]
“……Not at all. He sounds like a crazy person.”
Why pray while self-harming?
Monika shrugged her shoulders. She couldn't understand. The one who cries louder is not sadder, and the one who laughs louder is not happier, yet those who try to prove their faith always made a big fuss. Especially when it came to religion.
- The prayer room is gloomy every time I see it. Why did they decorate it like this? What are all these big stone lumps? They're hard to clean.
- Shh, Melisha. What do you mean stone lumps? They're statues that represent the Main Gods. You shouldn't be disrespectful.
- Sasha, didn't you curse last time saying you couldn't do it while cleaning the God of the Underworld's toe? Stop being a hypocrite.
- Th-that was…….
The prayer room of the affiliated cathedral of Cia-Harphe Academy.
The peer janitors began to move busily. They swept away the dust with a broom, and filled a bucket with water to wet a mop. And so, as the marble floor, covered in footprints, regained its color,
“You've come.”
In front of Monika, a man with an arrogant expression stood.
“Monika Lohengrin, a girl who doesn't know how to be grateful at all.”
Ah, so that's who it was.
Monika frowned.
Professor Arcturus. No, Raphael de Arcturus.
She had met that man before.
“To associate with mere janitors even though you’ve become a student of CIAR. How truly unpleasant.”
A month ago, one of the professors who had been interrogating Dante.
- Shut your mouth, commoner! Know your place. This is not a place for a lowly person like you to interfere!
The owner of the voice who had shouted so and blocked Monika’s defense.
“What are you doing. Not showing me proper respect.”
That very man was standing before Monika's eyes.