Chapter 17
In late February, the streets near St. Yansk University were packed with people.
The finest postwar educational institution, founded by order of the late king, was finally holding its entrance ceremony. The entrance exams had taken place the previous November, so the wait had indeed been a long one.
At this time of year, merchants from Pritchenkaya were busy scheming to empty the pockets of freshmen and their families who had come from distant foreign lands, while all manner of “traditional games,” including pickpocketing, ran rampant.
Despite the biting chill of the early spring morning, freshmen unable to hide their excitement and happiness filed through the gates of Yansk University, watched with pitying eyes by the upperclassmen.
That was how things remained until someone pointed at the sky and cried out in bewilderment.
“What’s that?”
One by one, more people began pointing upward.
Then, as a long shadow blotted out the morning glow and fell across the grounds of Yansk University—
“A ship...?”
“An airborne... battleship...?”
“Holy shit! Isn’t that— Isn’t that the Calion national emblem?!”
The countless people gathered before the campus descended into panic.
“Y-Your Excellency! A Calion warship is currently flying over Pritchenkaya...!”
“I-I have eyes of my own.”
A silver-haired Minister of the Royal Household ground his teeth as he tore at his hair.
“...Didn’t Elpheira clearly say she would travel overland through Tyles?”
“Well... Ahaha! Apparently so! And since they even used a concealment barrier above the clouds...”
“Yes. The weather has been poor lately. So naturally, we failed to determine whether Calion’s honored guest was approaching by land or crossing our airspace aboard a fully armed warship. Perfectly reasonable.”
“No, Senior. Realistically, how could we possibly plant an agent in Calion? That place is...”
The land of the elves.
“How would we even plant someone there...?”
“They’d be discovered immediately...”
A counterintelligence officer broke out in a cold sweat, repeatedly muttering that he was completely screwed once he reported back to headquarters.
In an age when peace had become little more than a vulgar joke—
A warship was descending from the sky.
It was early spring.
Hopefully, Elizaveta would refrain from killing any elves.
Ivan ignored the people still gripped by confusion and continued walking as he thought.
It was obvious what those elves were thinking.
‘Looking at you people, it seems only members of the Hero Party keep getting targeted by terrorists.’
‘Just how terrible is your border security for this to happen?’
‘Elpheira is the treasure of our archipelago, you know? How could we possibly trust you with her? From now on, we’ll protect our own children ourselves. Thanks for your efforts, and we look forward to your cooperation.’
It was difficult to argue against them. Isabel and Eshidis had been caught up in a train derailment, and the fact that all of them had survived was nothing short of a miracle.
Elizaveta had even received Ivan’s warning in advance. But who would have dared provoke Krasilov at this point in time?
Krasilov was in turmoil, with the princess and crown prince locked in a vicious struggle for power. Yet because of that very conflict, the nation’s military strength had remained almost entirely intact even after the war.
What foreign enemy would dare?
Unless they had a death wish.
Elizaveta must have felt wronged. She probably never imagined that lunatics of that caliber actually existed. In any case, this incident would most likely be dismissed as an unfortunate mishap. The elves of Calion would not commit a diplomatic offense beyond this “show of force,” either.
‘She’ll be devastated if I tell her the academy is going to suffer countless terrorist attacks from now on.’
The thought of seeing Iron-Blooded Liza cry again was surprisingly tempting, but Ivan decided against it because he had no desire to continue insulting his superior.
Besides, he did not particularly want to face Elizaveta in the first place. Their relationship was somewhat awkward.
‘Hmm.’
Elizaveta had written to him frequently, and Ivan had neatly returned every single letter unopened. His greatest reason was that he had not wanted to exchange personal correspondence with a superior. His second greatest reason was that he wanted nothing to do with royalty.
Had he known she would become his superior officer a few years later, he would have behaved with greater care. It was something worth reflecting upon.
She had only been fourteen when she first wrote to him. How could he possibly have predicted that she would become an officer of the Extermination Unit just five years later? At the time, he had even been serving in the late king’s Guard Division.
The moment anyone spotted him privately conversing with the princess, he could have been swept into a political offensive.
He had needed to avoid any misunderstanding that the great late king had secretly sent someone to support Elizaveta.
“Huh? Mister?”
“...Hm?”
As he walked, lost in thought, a familiar voice suddenly reached him.
Someone came running over with quick, pattering steps and tried to smack him on the shoulder. Ivan lightly twisted aside and moved a hand toward his waist.
His fingers closed around nothing.
Only then did he remember that he had left his axe in the dean’s office.
“What the hell was that killing intent?! Can’t a person even say hello to you? How am I supposed to live like this?”
“It seems the customary greeting in Tyles has changed considerably.”
“I saw your hand go straight to your waist, you know? Is the proper response to a greeting in Krasilov to bury an axe in someone? Huh? Is this how you treat a comrade who fought at your side through life and death?”
It was Isabel.
Grinning brightly, she approached him without a single attendant.
“You don’t look like you’re here to attend classes. Are you an instructor? A professor? You’re not with the Faculty of Knighthood, are you? You don’t have the face of someone destined to become a knight. Ah, don’t tell me. Let me guess.”
“I don’t remember you having this sort of personality.”
“You told me to live with a smile, remember?”
Isabel smiled brightly.
The expression looked so much like her father's that Ivan found himself smiling back without realizing it.
“I stiiiill can't stand Sir August, and I still absolutely hate people who fake those sweet little smiles. But... hmm. Right. Maybe I should just become fake too?”
“Excellent.”
Ivan genuinely thought so. To begin with, she had always been like a puppy that had yet to be properly socialized.
The type that barked at everyone and bared its teeth the moment it felt even slightly threatened.
She had changed her personality in the span of a single night, and Ivan privately rated himself as a far better educator than he had realized. (From Isabel's perspective, however, it was a rather bewildering assessment, considering that during that very night she had witnessed the slaughter of roughly eighty civilians and fought desperately against demons to save the dozen or so survivors.)
“Anyway! Mister—no, wait. Hmm. With your skills, are you a professor? Right? Which department? Physical Education. Definitely Physical Education. It can't be the Faculty of Knighthood... Hmm... Does Yansk University have an assassination curriculum?”
“Can you think of any use an educational institution that teaches such things would have?”
“It never hurts to learn anything! Well, except magic. That stuff is seriously way too hard.”
“It's a bit of a problem if a Hero can't use magic.”
“Hahaha! I told you, I'm in the Faculty of Knighthood!”
Ivan walked on, watching the cheerfully chattering Isabel.
As she happily rambled on without pause, another group of people approached from the distance.
“Milady!”
Isabel's face instantly turned cold before she immediately composed herself.
She cleared her throat, glanced sideways at Ivan, deliberately smoothed her expression, and replied in an equally cheerful tone.
“Oh my, Young Master! Fancy meeting you here!”
“I've told you that you don't have to be so formal with me, Milady. Please just call me Oskar.”
“Sure! Next time!”
Oskar.
Ivan's eyes narrowed sharply.
A remarkably handsome blond young man, surrounded by a group of female students, approached with a bright smile.
Good heavens.
He really is the spitting image of his father.
Ivan couldn't help but admire it. It wasn't just the appearance—even that smug expression of someone completely satisfied with himself was identical. The only real difference was the crowd surrounding him.
After all, Gilles Ver had always been remarkably discreet in his romantic affairs.
Back then, there hadn't exactly been many opportunities to meet women.
The Hero Party had only two women: the Saint and the Thief.
Patricia had been nothing more than a young girl in her early teens, while Enrique was a vampire over a hundred years old.
“Hmm. It's a pleasure to meet you for the first time. I am Oskar de Sation of Thales. And you would be...?”
“Ivan Petrovich.”
“If I may ask... what is your relationship with Milady? Ah, my apologies. You may not know this, but Milady is an honored state guest of our kingdom, so I hope you'll forgive my rudeness.”
Anyone would naturally become suspicious upon seeing a scruffy, bearded stranger walking alongside the Hero's daughter.
Ivan disagreed with that assessment, but from Oskar's perspective, the man was undeniably suspicious. Especially considering what had happened during the train terrorist attack involving Isabel.
Oskar had departed three days after Isabel because she had stubbornly refused to travel with him.
Then news of Isabel's accident reached Thales.
[Advance! To Pritchenkaya!]
[Rip apart the paws of those Krasilov brown bears!]
[A nation that forgets history has no future! People of Thales, never forget the Hero's sacred achievements!]
The streets of Saint Matilene were filled with citizens carrying banners like those.
After all, the Hero's daughter had not merely suffered an accident abroad—she had disappeared in a terrorist attack.
Fortunately, an urgent report soon confirmed that Isabel had returned completely unharmed, and the protesters dispersed.
Nevertheless, Thales' suspicion and distrust toward Pritchenkaya soared to unprecedented heights.
And on top of that, Oskar had received quite the lecture from his father, the Guardian Duke Gilles Ver.
'Once you enroll, make absolutely certain that not a single hair on Isabel's head is harmed, no matter what.'
'Even if it costs me my life?'
'No matter how I think about it, her life is more valuable than yours.'
'Wow... That's incredible. Why didn't you just swap me out with her? Weren't you close friends with the Hero?'
'If I could have done that, I'd have done it twenty years ago, my son. Your mother Yulia and I always wanted a daughter.'
'Wow... That's honestly terrifying.'
Recalling the solemn lecture from Gilles Ver—the model knight of Thales and its great Guardian Duke—Oskar unconsciously frowned before quickly composing himself again.
“He's a member of Yansk University's staff.”
“My apologies for my discourtesy. There have been rather unfortunate incidents lately. I hope you'll be generous enough to forgive my rudeness.”
“Mm.”
“May I ask which faculty you're affiliated with? I don't recall seeing your name on the faculty roster.”
At those words, Isabel's ears perked up.
He wasn't a professor?
“I'm a gardener.”
“…Huh…?”
With those skills... a gardener?
Isabel stared at him in utter disbelief.
Those deep eyes that revealed nothing.
That thick beard that concealed every hint of expression.
I seriously want to shave that thing off...
The thought slipped into her mind before she suddenly realized something.
“…Aha?”
“Milady?”
“Oh! Right, Young Master. Ahem. Mr. Petrovich? Thank you for showing me around. Wow~ The campus is so huge I almost got lost! See you later!”
Ivan seriously wondered whether Yansk University's Faculty of Arts had an acting department.
He made a mental note to recommend an introductory acting class as one of Isabel's electives.
The moment Oskar was out of earshot, she flashed an odd grin and gave Ivan a solid jab in the side.
Ivan instinctively reached for his waist before remembering that his axe wasn't there and casually lowered his hand.
“You're a government agent, aren't you? Right? Like, a secret agent or something? Wow, college life is already so exciting! Just what are they hiding here that they'd even station government agents on campus?”
She whispered that before immediately clearing her throat and composing herself once more.
“It's our little secret, okay? You can't go telling anyone else.”
“If it's supposed to stay between us, I think you're the one who needs to watch your mouth.”
“Oh, come on. I'm the Hero's daughter, remember? Dignity, secrecy, justice.”
“Was the Hero really like that?”
As their whispered conversation dragged on, Oskar's expression gradually became rather strange.
Meanwhile, inside the university's grand auditorium, where preparations for the entrance ceremony were in full swing, one person stared blankly into empty space.
“What is this... a status... window?”
[Congratulations!]