novelraw Chapter 52 : Chapter 52
Chapter 52 : Chapter 52
Chapter 52: Student Interview (2)
The God of the Underworld, ‘Aries’.
The Main God who presides over death, the mind, and reincarnation.
The being that had arrived before Abel did not belong to this world. It could not belong. The realm called the world was a fence for creatures, and the Main Gods could only exist outside of it.
[I apologize, my pupil.]
Thus, this place was no longer Abel's office.
It was none other than the domain of the God of the Underworld.
[I have welcomed you abruptly. I hope you will understand. I cannot visit you myself.]
“I did not expect to see you in person.”
Abel closed his journal.
“I was only requesting an oracle.”
Abel's eyes hardened slightly.
It was because his breathing had become difficult, and all the senses of his body were on edge.
It couldn't be helped. He was in the domain of the Main Gods in a human body. In the first place, if it were not a human of Abel's caliber, he would have died suddenly. Either due to a physical abnormality, or from going mad due to the pupils surrounding him.
[You requested the perusal of souls from me.]
The eyelids of the God of the Underworld opened.
A deep, blackish-blue gaze without any luster. Pupils that resembled Abel's were revealed.
[Julien de Saint-Pierre, Chloe de Arcturus, Eloise de Craon. It must be to witness the final moments of these three humans. Is that not so?]
“That is correct.”
[I cannot show you.]
The God of the Underworld's answer was hollow.
[Their souls did not reach the Underworld.]
So that was it.
Abel thought, nodding his head.
There were two possibilities in the God of the Underworld's words. That they had become evil spirits because they had not received funeral rites, or that their souls had been taken by an apostate. The state of the corpses was not sound, but the funerals would surely have been performed. The probability of an apostate being involved was high.
[It is a pity. You must have hoped for a more definite answer.]
“No. It was helpful enough.”
[Is that so.]
It is difficult.
The God of the Underworld muttered, stroking his chin.
[I could not gain much insight, but you seem to have gained much. Pondering the world of creatures is a truly difficult thing. When seen from the domain of the Main Gods, the whole world is but a blurry reflection.]
“I understand.”
It was a fact he knew well.
The Creator was too powerful to touch the world, and the creatures were too weak to leave the world. That is why both strength and weakness were colorless. Because they existed in realms where they could not come and go.
Only those like Abel, a ‘Mother God's Left Hand’, were an exception.
[We Main Gods can at most bestow a few spells, and you creatures can at most offer a fragment of life.]
It was a trade where only what was lacking was exchanged.
Because the creatures wished for endless miracles, and the Main Gods clearly wanted to know life.
[So, tell me.]
My pupil, he said.
The God of the Underworld asked Abel.
[What kind of child is Fleur de Saint-Pierre?]
“You mean your evangelist.”
When Abel asked back, the God of the Underworld nodded his head.
The pupils that had been surrounding him all closed at once.
[We Main Gods do not know life. Finite and chaotic life is the authority of the creatures. Therefore, I wanted to ask you. About the life of Fleur de Saint-Pierre.]
“I do not know either.”
Abel answered concisely.
He knew little about Fleur.
A child who showed talent in divine magic, and at the same time, did not easily reveal her emotions. And flowers and bones. A child who wore a floral wreath woven with flowers, and at the same time, was proficient in dissection that rummaged through the insides of bones. Finally, the daughter of Marquis Saint-Pierre. There were many points that could not be explained by that alone. Abel decided to state only the clear facts.
“She would be a girl who is not yet an adult, Fleur de Saint-Pierre.”
[It is abstruse.]
The God of the Underworld could not understand.
What the point of adulthood symbolized, what the period called girlhood guaranteed.
Then what do the Main Gods know?
“I will also ask a question.”
Abel decided to ask about that.
“O God of the Underworld, why were you drawn to Fleur de Saint-Pierre?”
An evangelist meant a creature that the Main Gods had observed.
Even though they were separated by a distance as far as eternity, it was the result of a fragment of the creature's life catching the Main Gods' attention.
Without knowing what life is, the Main Gods simply react to an unprecedented sensation and reach the evangelist. Then what did the God of the Underworld feel from Fleur?
The three domains the God of the Underworld presides over.
Which part did she stimulate among death, the mind, and reincarnation?
[It is a wail.]
The God of the Underworld asserted.
[I heard that child's wail.]
……A wail.
Abel mulled over the God of the Underworld's answer.
If a wail had reached the God of the Underworld, was it the wail of someone facing death, a wail made of a pure heart, or the wail of a newly reincarnated baby? Abel could not come to a clear conclusion. The God of the Underworld would not be able to pick one either.
“Understood.”
Further conversation is meaningless.
Abel looked back.
“It was an honor to see you, O God of the Underworld.”
Knock, knock, he went.
The sound coming from where Abel's gaze had reached.
“It seems a student is waiting. May I go back?”
Again, knock, knock, he went.
A sound like knocking on a door echoed.
“Professor Argento, it's me! Roberta is here!”
The God of the Underworld nodded his head.
He picked up the lantern and stirred the darkness.
The jet-black curtain was drawn back following the light. The scenery of the office overlaid the domain of the God of the Underworld.
“What the, really. I came for an interview, so why isn't he coming out?”
While Roberta's grumbling became clearer,
[I will ask one last thing, my pupil.]
The God of the Underworld gently closed his eyes.
He posed a question to Abel who was walking away with his back turned.
[Was it called education? That custom of you creatures. Why does the big one try to teach the small one? By what means does the small one try to learn from the big one?]
“I do not know that either.”
Abel's answer was ultimately poor.
He just muttered, looking back at the God of the Underworld.
“Perhaps it is to imitate the Main Gods.”
They are identical in that they cannot understand each other.
Forming a relationship based on teaching is also the same.
Both the Creator and the creature, and the teacher and the disciple……
Abel whispered so.
* * *
The interview began.
The first student was Roberta Sinclair. A third-year student from the Department of Divinity, and a child skilled in crafting tools and setting traps.
The Sinclair family made a living from manufacturing and selling weapons. They were one of the top merchant families in the Empire, and if the family business was maintained for a couple more generations, they would rise to the status of new nobles.
“I don't know about things that are that difficult.”
Roberta said, rummaging through her vermilion hair.
Soot was spread on the bridge of her nose. She must have been playing pranks somewhere again.
“Tell me, Professor. What's so good about becoming a noble?”
“You can obtain power and honor.”
“So why are power and honor good? Does it make life more fun? I don't really know. I don't want to live wearing strange clothes and acting all proper.”
More importantly, that over there, she said.
Roberta said, gesturing with her chin.
“That flower. Can't you give it to me?”
Roberta was looking at the yellow rose.
On the round table in the office, the yellow rose swayed in the autumn wind. Its leaves were withered because its roots had been cut. It was the flower Fleur had given him in the garden of the Brilliant Sun Royal Palace.
“No. It was a gift.”
“You could gift that to me.”
“What will you do with the rose?”
“Can't I do anything with it?”
Roberta grinned.
As the corners of her lips rose, a sly shadow spread.
That's right. She could probably create anything. Abel thought, examining the documents. Roberta's history was written on the paper. A toilet that could be exploded remotely, a window where curses toward the professor were written, Roberta had a talent for creating wondrous things.
“Roberta Sinclair.”
That is why Abel decided to ask.
“Why do you only make useless things?”
“Are you insulting my babies right now?”
Roberta frowned.
“Why are they useless? They are babies with their own dignity.”
“Objects do not have dignity. They are just thrown away when the time comes for them to become useless. Of course, there may be objects that are not like that……”
“No, they're not. You can recycle them as parts. Just like how water circulates. If you disassemble and reassemble them, you can use them forever.”
You know, she said.
Roberta grumbled with her arms crossed.
“I didn't even throw away the toys I played with when I was a child. I may not be looking for them right now, but a time will come when I will use them.”
“That may be so.”
Abel examined the documents again.
“What I was trying to ask about was your trap's……”
“Baby. A fresh baby.”
“Your trap's……”
“Babies. My babies.”
“Yes, your babies……”
Abel letting out a sigh.
“I'm sorry for calling your babies useless. I was trying to discuss practicality. Your traps are ultimately harmless. It might be unpleasant for the one who falls for them, but it's like dropping a tray on their head. It just has that much effect.”
You must be making only such traps on purpose.
Moderately dangerous, and moderately unpleasant.
Abel whispered so.
“You are playing pranks while keeping to a certain extent. You never try to cross the line. Am I right?”
“Of course. If a prank goes too far, it becomes violence.”
“I will not deny it. But you won't be able to just play pranks forever.”
“How would you know that, Professor?”
Roberta's gaze narrowed.
It seemed a sense of displeasure had brushed past her.
“You belong to a family that manufactures weapons, and you are also enrolled in CIAR's Department of Divinity. That is precisely why.”
Family business and studies.
Roberta's talent was connected to both fields.
“Inventiveness is important in weapon manufacturing.”
The civilization of Epezeria was changing rapidly. The acceleration of technological development was in full swing. The field of weapon manufacturing was the same. The era of making swords sharper and shields harder was over. Flintlock rifles, breech-loading cannons, warships, and magical weapons were appearing.
“It is the same for monster extermination. The importance of tools cannot be ignored.”
Divine power was not the only answer. The process of monster extermination also required tools. Not only simple traps like snares, but also devices that combined various technologies and spells were being developed. For those who did not possess divine power, they were a lifeline.
“Your divine power is a little better than your peers. It seems you have no talent for weapon techniques.”
Abel said, with the documents spread open.
“But it doesn't matter. You can contribute to both manufacturing weapons and exterminating monsters.”
Which will you choose, Roberta Sinclair?
To such a question from Abel,
“……I won't. It's not fun.”
Roberta muttered, pouting her lips.
‘Fun…….’
Abel closed the documents.
The palm on the paper was cold.
‘……It's not easy.’
A deep sigh escaped Abel's lips.
.
.
.
“I have no choice but to admit it, Professor!”
Hmph, he went.
Demian puffed out his chest.
“You are a true knight, Professor. I can tell just by looking at your office. For it to be this empty. It is the space of someone who has dedicated their life to the sword.”
“I just don't have furniture because I don't need it.”
Abel said, holding a folding chair.
After placing the chair by the round table, Abel gestured for Demian to sit. Demian took a seat after a polite greeting. Beside him, Ernst was trembling.
“Ernst, have you calmed down a bit? I can bring you tea if you want.”
“It's fine. I just feel like I'm going to die a little.”
At Abel's suggestion, Ernst answered, frowning.
“I'm about to develop a fear of heights that I didn't have before. That Demian guy is definitely the greatest madman of all time.”
The interviews for the second and third students were conducted at the same time.
It was within the expected range. It was because Demian had climbed the outer wall with Ernst tied to him. The expressions of the two who had entered through the window were contrasting. Demian was wearing a spirited smile, and Ernst was just gasping for breath with his hair standing on end.
“So……”
Abel sat down.
He looked at Demian and Ernst alternately.
“What are you two going to become in the future?”
Without a doubt, they would be Holy Knights.
Demian and Ernst had talents as soldiers. It was just that their directions were different.
“I will protect the subjects from monsters. I will devote my body and mind to widely practice chivalry.”
Demian said, tapping one side of his chest.
Demian Fernando von Farenheit. A fifth-year student from the Department of Divinity, and the heir of the renowned swordsmanship family, the Farenheit family.
There was no flaw in Demian's swordsmanship. He had long since mastered the Numeros Formal Swordsmanship, and was also the winner of various swordsmanship competitions.
“I'll just become an ordinary adult……. I plan to live quietly while managing my fiefdom moderately well.”
Ernst said, fiddling with the knot of his tie.
Ernst von Tresckow. A fifth-year student from the Department of Divinity, and the eldest grandson of Count Tresckow.
Count Tresckow was an old general skilled in tactics. His skills as a field commander were likely unrivaled. It was known that he had been living in seclusion since the end of the Mirror War.
“Ernst, you seem to be proficient in commanding.”
Abel examined the documents.
Ernst's history was listed. His grades were generally average, but only the grades for subjects based on military science, such as 「Command and Leadership Theory」, 「Applying Military Theory」, and 「Conceptualizing Strategy through Practical Application」, were devastating. Not just bad, but as if he had deliberately received the lowest score.
“You received 0 points in all military science-related subjects. That's not an easy thing to do. Am I wrong?”
“I was unlucky.”
Ernst said, resting his chin on his hand.
“You can tell just by looking at the fact that I have a guy like Demian as a friend, right? Only misfortune exists in my life.”
“Er, I was always happy to be friends with you.”
“I'm not, you damn bastard.”
“……Sad.”
Demian's head drooped as if dejected.
“Ernst von Tresckow.”
Abel continued calmly.
“Normally, I would have affirmed your misfortune, but I can't do that today. I have a duty to discover and develop a student's abilities. I want to be sure of your talent for tactics.”
So I'll tell you, he said.
Abel declared in an indifferent tone.
“This semester, get a score with your own skills. If it's not a perfect score, I will consider it not to be your own skills.”
“No, wait a minute! Where is such an unreasonable demand? It's not like Demian's selfish chivalry or anything……”
Ernst arguing, clenching his fists.
Demian's head drooped even lower.
“Don't take it badly.”
Abel shrugged his shoulders.
“Making unreasonable demands of a student is also one of the qualities of a professor. For your information, if you don't get a perfect score, you will be living with Demian for a week.”
“Are you really in your right mind? That guy is a madman who trains in swordsmanship while beaming until past midnight!”
“I'm happy to have a friend to swing a sword with, Er. After we finish training, let's read knightly literature until sunrise.”
Demian raised his head with a flash.
A full-blown smile was spreading across his lips.
“And Demian Fernando von Farenheit.”
Abel did not delay.
He tilted his gaze toward Demian.
“I don't need to have a long talk with you.”
“So you've come to dislike me? Did you come to dislike me because I suddenly requested a duel, because I vomited in the monster's belly?”
“I have never disliked you.”
Although I do think you're a good kid to tease……, he said.
Abel, who had been muttering softly, let out a sigh.
“You already know well, don't you? What you are talented at, what you need to do to develop your talent, and what kind of adult you should become in the future……”
You know everything.
There is nothing I need to tell you.
Abel asserted so.
“So come and find me if you have something you don't know. Until then, I have no intention of advising you.”
Let's end the interview here.
Everyone, go back, he said.
Abel said, putting down the documents.
“There are still students I need to interview besides you.”
A moment of silence.
Demian and Ernst looked at each other.
Ernst adjusted his glasses. Demian smiled slyly. Wiry brown hair and soft golden hair. Green eyes and ashen eyes. A stiff expression and a graceful expression. Ernst and Demian seemed to contrast at a glance.
“Er, are you ready to go back?”
“Stop your damn nonsense, Demian!”
Thus, the direction of their steps was also opposite.
Ernst ran toward the archway door of the office.
It was a futile attempt. Demian grabbed Ernst by the scruff of his neck. After shouldering the screaming Ernst, he threw open the window.
The two exited by stepping on the outer wall.
.
.
.
Until the fourth student arrived, Abel examined the documents.
Monika Lohengrin and Fleur de Saint-Pierre. He looked at the history of the two students on the round table alternately.
He knew Monika's history well. In the first place, Abel had written Monika's course plan, and he had been reviewing her skills through sparring from time to time. He would have been vaguely aware of her background, her past, and even what she would face in the future.
‘On the other hand, Fleur de Saint-Pierre is…….’
Abel's gaze was thinly honed.
He must not judge Fleur by her history. Abel believed it without a doubt. The level of her grades, the direction of her abilities, the characteristics of her family, there was a part that was difficult to identify with just such facts. Moreover, now that a murder case against the Saint-Pierre family had occurred, the interview with Fleur should not be treated as a mere meeting with a student.
‘I must obtain a clue about the Saint-Pierre family.’
Just as Abel made up his mind and raised his head,
“Professor Argento, it is Fleur de Saint-Pierre.”
Knock, knock, he went.
With the sound of knocking on the door,
“May I come in?”
Fleur's question from beyond the archway door.
It was a tone that was soft like a flower petal swaying, and hard like chewing on a bone fragment.