30 Years Have Passed Since The Prologue - 01

프롤로그에서 년이 흘렀다
맠엘라하
– STORY –
I got s**ked into a game I’ve never seen before.
I thought it was a top-notch RPG and spent 30 years on it.
I retired as a war hero and planned to spend my remaining

time leisurely.
But it turns out, it was an academy story?
– GENRE –
Action Adventure Comedy Fantasy Harem Mystery School

Life
“Ah, it’s an unfamiliar ceiling…”
Kim Sunwoo said in a pretty chill tone.
Well, okay, not exactly chill. He was so pumped, his hands were kinda shaking.
He’d been waiting for this moment forever. A foreign ceiling, a whole different world,
you dig? Reincarnation, transmigration, rebirth – bring it on!
For real, he’d been getting ready for this moment for ages. The big deal here is the
‘prep.’
If you’re from South Korea, you probably know the basic rules for reincarnating in
another world. You gotta [Submit a 5,700-character critique of the book] and [read it
to completion].
Taking it to the next level, you can peep Kim Sunwoo’s ‘prep process.’
Every novel, webtoon, and game he read. Anything he vibed with. Basically, writing a
[5,700-character critique] for every story he wanted to jump into.
Every day, with mad gratitude, non-stop, with a fresh critique every time,
meticulously and all that jazz.
Since it’s a work to be transmigrated into, obviously, he’d memorize the whole story,
the setup, any secret plots, artifacts, and how all the big players are connected.
“Just gotta bust out those 5,700 characters and then I’ll hear ‘Then try it yourself,
dumbass.'”
Of course, most of the time, it ended with furious authors or internet peeps trying to
shut him down. But in the end, he always came out on top.
He’d finally kicked it into another world.
Now, all that’s left is to figure out what kind of deal this is. Just that!
“Status window!”
No flashy, high-tech blue screen or nothing.
But he’s chill with it. I mean, his list of works without a status window is pretty long
from all those negative reviews. He’s basically an expert.
And now, he’s rocking the body of an eight-year-old kid. Time and superpowers are
on his side.
Raggedy clothes and a beat-up ceiling? It’s all good, actually.
– Starting from a place like this?!
– Seriously, a total prodigy!
– I’m gonna score riches and status, just wait!
The media back on Earth has proved that success is sweeter when you come up from
a rough childhood.
Kim Sunwoo laughed and got up from his spot.
First things first, let’s start with something simple, like ‘making soap.’
***
At 4 years old, during the first week of his transmigration journey, Kim Sunwoo
realizes that his new body goes by the name “Ivan Petrovich.”
His parents are simple farmers, and he’s shocked that they not only don’t know the
name of their country but can’t even read.
After a failed attempt at making soap and a stern lecture for messing with lye, he
discovers that soap already exists in this world.
4 years old. 6th week of transmigration.
Finally, Kim Sunwoo gains the ability to explore the village while delivering eggs.
When he spots a newspaper lying on the ground, he starts feeling a bit strange.
“If a society can print newspapers and distribute them to a rural area like this, it’s
probably not the medieval era, right?”
That day, most of his ‘transmigration work list’ gets wiped out.
4 years old. 15th week of transmigration.
At last, Kim Sunwoo hears the name of the country he’s in. After learning the name of
the king, simply known as ‘His Majesty,’ he rushes home and tosses his cherished
‘transmigration work list’ into the fireplace.
Everything is new to him – a new country, a new ruler, and even neighboring
kingdoms are names he’s never heard before.
Now, what matters isn’t ‘what kind of work he transmigrated into’ but ‘what genre
this world is.’
He hopes it’s not dark fantasy. Small-scale farmers, without status windows or
special transmigration bonuses, tend to have a survival rate of less than 5%.
8 years old. 4th year of transmigration.
Out of the blue, a demon king makes an appearance.
The war is still distant, but ominous news fills the air every day.
8 years old, in winter.
‘Ivan’s’ father is conscripted and leaves.
‘Ivan’s’ mother takes in foster children to make ends meet.
This is when Kim Sunwoo’s sense of self begins to shift.

Kim Sunwoo becomes skilled enough to help his mother with the foster children.
At last, Kim Sunwoo learns to read. His reward for delivering eggs to the village
head’s house for six years.
News of his father’s death reaches the village.
The strange part is that it’s a death notice issued two years earlier.
Taking a few coins in exchange for a life, he looks at his weeping mother and thinks
of two things.
One thing that crossed his mind was that the genre of this world was probably some
kind of strategy simulation.
It was way too intricate for an RPG. In most cases, they wouldn’t have so many
different nations if players couldn’t interact with them. Writing a novel or webtoon
in this world would lead to comments like ‘What’s this nonsense, just another self-
indulgent story,’ and free serialization with a clear ending.
So, he knew he had to take action. Living as a small-scale farmer in this rural area, he
had never set foot in the main story, so he needed to make his mark.
Strategy simulation endings often involved world conquest, but getting conquered
by the demon army without knowing anything was something to avoid, right?
The second thought that crossed his mind was, “Don’t worry, Mother.”
He wiped away his mother’s tears and submitted his enlistment application to the
recruiting officer. His salary was 15 ducats from the eastern part, and he had a
contract to send it all to his mother.
‘Ivan Petrovich’ hoped that this woman’s hands would no longer tremble.
It wasn’t a sudden sense of duty, but rather a deep respect for the incredible woman
who was sacrificing everything for him, a total stranger. He also felt guilt for
inhabiting the body of a young boy named ‘Ivan’ and being the reason for the loss of
her only bloodline.
18 years old. 14th year of transmigration. 4 years of military service.
Due to a small military contribution and a stroke of luck, Ivan’s status went from
‘conscript’ to ‘regular army.’
He realized that Ivan’s body had more combat talent than he initially thought.
As the front lines were pushed to the brink and half of the allied nations were in
chaos, a hero emerged.
At this point, Ivan finally understood the genre of this world.
It was a hero story, a real RPG.
But the hero was just a tale from a distant land, and Ivan’s front line was still being
pushed back relentlessly.
The hero’s party advanced, intercepting the commanders of the demon army, and the
situation took a turn.
Ivan now served in the “Restoration Zone Control and Enemy Faction Identification
Unit.”
In simpler terms:
– Cleanup Unit
This specialized unit was deployed when the hero’s party killed enemy leaders and
the enemy forces were thrown into disarray.
For about a year from this point, Ivan traveled using the same military camp as the
hero’s party.
The hero party managed to defeat the Demon King.
Ivan decided it was time to wait for the ending.
All he wanted now was an escape from this never-ending world.
Two years had passed since the Demon King’s demise, but the ending was still
nowhere in sight.
During this time, the Cleaing Unit’s numbers had dwindled to a fifth of what they
once were.
With no new recruits coming in, Ivan realized the higher-ups planned to disband
them.
After what felt like their final mission, Ivan viewed this as an extended epilogue and
applied for discharge.
His mother from his hometown had passed away a decade ago, so he was entirely
alone.
Near the capital, he established an orphanage and welcomed war orphans.
It was a small act of kindness, considering his circumstances.
Yet, even now.
The ending credits were nowhere to be found.
***
The idea that this might not be an RPG changed from just a thought to a certainty, all
thanks to a visitor to the orphanage.
“Damn it.”
“Yes?”
“Damn it. Was this an academy setting?”
“Senior…?”
To the unexpectedly sworn, the guest glanced awkwardly at the orphanage director
(a war hero with 18 years of military service, a veteran of the Cleanup Unit, and an
acquaintance of the hero party).
The guest, dispatched from the palace, recalled the various nicknames of the
orphanage director and broke into a cold sweat.
The King’s son-in-law, lumberjack, the guy who slew the Seven Dragons, the
immortal, the reserve soldier – a living legend among conscripts.
Seeing this intimidating figure, who looked like he might wield an axe at anyone who
spoke out of line, the guest forced a nervous smile and held his breath until the
orphanage director’s irritation subsided.
The St. Basilicia Orphanage is a prosperous orphanage even within the kingdom.
Typically, for an orphanage to become prosperous, it needed a few conditions. It had

to be located in a favorable administrative area of the capital or have the political
symbolism of being the ‘first orphanage for war orphans’ when a war-torn kingdom
begins its reconstruction. The orphanage director had to have connections with
influential people and nobles in society, among other reasons.
By the way, St. Basilicia Orphanage met all of these conditions.
“Hmm.”
Ivan scrunches up his brow while he casually scratches his arm. His time in the
military taught him not to ignore weird vibes.
“Kids, throw some salt around.”
“Yes, sir!”
The little ones dash off, giggling, and he lets out a deep sigh.
It’s been a good four years since they knocked off the demon king, but this game ain’t
calling it quits. If the ending’s takin’ this long, somethin’s fishy.
Is there some other rule? Is the ending like ‘hero kicks the bucket from old age’? Nah,
that can’t be it. He wants to head back home ASAP.
Right about now, Ivan’s daydreaming about the good stuff back on Earth, making a
list.
Canned brews, hot spicy rice cakes, honey butter chips, nachos with cheese, tuna
mayo, and kimchi stew.
Oh, man, kimchi stew deserves three bold lines. It’s been a hot minute since he had
some kimchi. Can’t forget kimchi jjim and stir-fried kimchi either.
And all kinds of booze, except vodka and wine. He’s all in for some liquor from the
Far East.
After chowing down with creatures who snack on pickled cucumbers and dried
shrooms, even puffed-up snacks start soundin’ fancy.
“Phew…”
Ivan, walkin’ like he’s got weak knees, suddenly stops.
He hears footsteps in his office, where nobody should be. Grown-up steps, and
what’s more, from a pro soldier.
Just a moment ago, his chill demeanor turned on a dime. He walks cautiously this
time, no more ninja steps, aiming for a more natural approach, and heads straight for
the wooden door with ‘Director’s Office’ on it
“There’s only one person.”
His instincts are dialed up to animal mode. After a few years in a special ops unit,
anyone could pull these moves.
The noise behind that wooden door came to a sudden stop. Ivan cautiously reached
for his holster and slightly hunched over, positioning his head in a way that would
deflect a bullet if the door were to swing open. It was an old habit.
“Long time no see, senior!”
As the latch on the door turned, an unfamiliar guest cheerfully greeted. That
indicated no intention of harm. Hearing the voice, Ivan quickly identified the person
and relaxed his stance.
Upon opening the door, a sharply dressed military man stood there, extending his
hand for a warm greeting.
“How have you been? Oh, I should have visited more often!”
“You should’ve used the front entrance.”
“Oh, when have we ever been that formal?”
The soldier let out a short laugh, stepped back, and briefly inspected Ivan’s waist and
sleeves.
“It’s urgent.”
“No need to rush! Let’s have a drink and chat first, and then we can get to business.”
Even as he said that, the guest pulled a small letter from his pocket and carefully
placed it on the table.
High-quality paper, sealed with wax, and bearing a chrysanthemum-shaped seal.

Ivan instinctively took a step back when he saw it.
“Wait, isn’t that sacrilege?”
“Why would Colonel Kirilovna want me to…?”
“She’s the Royal Chancellor now. When you retired, she was already a Major.”
“So, why’s she looking for me? As far as I remember, when I left the service, she was
quite adamant about me leaving.”
“Yes, you did follow her advice to retire and live quietly. I admire your trust in that,
senior. Her Highness went without food for three days, you know?”
He chuckled and pushed the letter, which had been pushed to the end of the table,
back toward Ivan.
“Read it. If it’s a letter from Her Highness, it’s worth its weight in gold even at an
antique auction.”
“…”
With the same caution he’d use to disarm a magical device on the verge of explosion,
Ivan carefully reached out to gently break the wax seal, taking great care not to
crumple it.
With a satisfying “pop,” the letter opened smoothly. When the golden-flecked paper
came into view, his hand froze.
“What’s wrong, His Highness might just be asking how you’re doing.”
“…Hell no.”
Elizaveta Kirillovna Krasilov. More familiarly known by her nickname from the front
lines, “Riza of Steel.” This woman, back in the days of the full-scale front, wouldn’t
send an emissary just to check on someone’s well-being.
It wouldn’t be surprising if the letter was poisoned.
I hope there’s no poison in here…
“Dammit, just read it.”
Ivan hesitated once more before gathering the courage to open the letter.
The letter was written impeccably, in precise and elegant handwriting, almost as if it
were typed on a typewriter.
[Vanka, how have you been?]
Ivan didn’t want to read it anymore. He swallowed hard.
[I’ve heard about you from time to time. You seem to be doing well.]
At first, I thought I was fortunate, but that was a while ago.
[Sadly, I’m not doing well now.]
Whoever it was, they must be a bastard to have made this woman ‘not do well.
[Do you remember when we worked hard to cultivate the garden? I hoped we could
have a banquet together, but you left without looking back.]
The days when you burned down demon colonies and set up military offices to
‘discipline’ the ‘pacified’ demons?
Of course, I remember.
[Afterward, I thought like this for a moment. Well, fine. Even if you’re not here, the
garden you worked so hard to cultivate will not wither away like this. Winter has
passed, and when the snow melts, it will be the season of blooming flowers.]
[Then, maybe one day, you might come to visit the garden you created.]
Ivan muttered without realizing it.
“Me? Back to the military? Why…?”
[But the seasons have come full circle, and winter is approaching again. The idlers
who are well-fed and lazy no longer care about the garden. No more wild flowers
grow among the gardens, where weeds and wild beasts thrive.]
This winter would certainly be colder and quieter than the last.
[Somewhere, I see it covering the branches of the barely surviving bushes.]
Only now did he grasp the purpose of this letter.
Before reading the last paragraph, Ivan let out an automatic sigh.
[Vanka, my most trusted gardener.]
[If you have a wish, I will surely repay it threefold. If the price is not enough, we will
pay with our friendship. If that is still not enough, we will pay with our memories.]
[The kingdom still needs your dedication.]
[As it has been until now, and as it will be in the future.]
[With fondness, Kirillovna.]
After rereading the relatively short letter multiple times with great care, he pressed
the corners of his eyes that had stiffened and turned his head.
– Tap, tap, tap.

He drummed his fingertips on the table, lost in thought for a moment.
“Your answer?”
“First, tell me about the situation.”
“It’s very complicated. The military keeps pestering us every day for assignments,
and Crown Prince Alexander is dead set on dividing and selling the country. Our
‘Great King’ remains silent.”
The man continued with a sigh.
“But guess what! Do you remember St. Jan’s Academy? The international academy
that was established during the war?”
“Why?”
“I got an early peek at the list of this year’s new students and faculty, and guess
what? The Saintess is among the faculty, teaching theology. And then… these names,
they’re pretty darn familiar, aren’t they?”
– Hero Maximilian’s daughter, Isabelle.
– Knight Jill’s son, Oscar.
– Mage Veolgrin’s daughter, Elpheira.
– Paladin Ainar’s daughter, Esideth.
– Rogue Enrique’s apprentice, Lucia.
And to top it off, Saint Patricia herself has become a professor this year.
It’s like something out of a storybook, the ‘Hero Party Members.’
“And here we are, thanks to our Great King, who abolished the age limit for
admission to St. Jan’s Academy, saying age doesn’t matter, as long as you pass the
entrance exam, you’re in. This is the result!”
St. Jan’s Academy, a renowned institution in the entire United Kingdom, doesn’t care
about the age of its students from this otherworld.
Whether they’re super young or, well, very mature.
As long as they ace the insanely tough entrance exams, interviews, and meet other
conditions, including a guarantor’s recommendation, anyone can enroll.
This is where things get tricky.
After slaying the Demon Lord, the Hero Party returned to their respective
hometowns.
Some became nobles, others went into hiding. But they all shared something in
common.
Each member of that party became a legendary hero in their hometowns.
This means that their actions could lead to international conflicts, especially for
those who sent their kids to study abroad.
“Our prince wants to sell the country, oh my goodness. This happening right in the
capital? What’s gonna happen?”
If someone from that group dies or gets hurt, it could spell doom for the kingdom.
“What should I do?”
“We’ve got a spot reserved for you on the faculty. Not as a professor or teaching
assistant, but as a gardener. Well, academies have trees too, right?”
“…”
The man pointed to the list in his notebook as he spoke.
“Keep an eye on these folks until they make it back to their home countries without a
scratch. It might even be shorter if they drop out.”
At this point, Ivan had it all figured out.
Colonel Kirilovna… I mean Her Highness, the Royal Chancellor, urgently needs an
operative not currently tied to the military.
Using an active-duty agent would leave a trail that the prince’s faction could uncover,
and hiring any retired agent without knowing their allegiances wasn’t a safe bet.
But voila! The perfect candidate was right near the capital.
Loyalty was unquestionable, skills were proven, and the person had retired quietly
with no political ties, easy to locate and contact.
The miraculous candidate was none other than Ivan himself.
Ivan, who’d been waiting quietly for the end to come, ready to head back to Earth
and relish the joys of modern life, suddenly grasped an astounding truth.
It wasn’t the kind of scenario where the Demon Lord gets defeated, and the Hero
Party rides off into the sunset with a happily-ever-after ending.
Amidst the turbulent international scene and the ominous domestic politics, the
abrupt appearance of the ‘International Academy,’ where world-famous figures
eagerly enrolled their kids…
After 30 long years, a genre that any South Korean would instantly recognize came to
mind.
“Damnit!”
“…Yes?”
Kim Sunwoo, who had been napping for many years, suddenly woke up.
“Damn it. Is this turning into a school setting?”
“Senior…?”
The man stared at Ivan with beads of cold sweat forming on his brow.
This was a sight that had been scarce even during Ivan’s active-duty days: that
intense expression of suppressed anger.
And naturally, as someone who had known him from those active-duty days, the man
was taken aback by the fierce and controlled fury in Ivan’s demeanor.
With a cold sweat, he wondered what Ivan meant by those words.
By the time he had finished pondering, Ivan had forcefully repressed the sudden
eruption of Kim Sunwoo’s seething rage.
With beads of sweat forming on his own forehead, Ivan closed his eyes and spoke.
“Ivan Petrovich… I accept Her Highness’s command.”
“Now, let’s get going.”
Three years.
He had already waited 30 years, so what was another three years in the grand
scheme of things?
If he could just hold on for three more years, he would finally reach the ending.
And that’s how a gardener found himself working at the Academy.
Author’s Note:
In Russia, they enjoy pickled mushrooms and cucumbers as accompaniments to

vodka…
A truly unique culture…!
See you in the next episode.

Every genre has its own formula. It’s what we call a cliche.
If you think about it, it’s only natural. To establish a set of a specific genre, there must
be common elements.
For example, let’s take the classic hero’s tale. In my opinion, the format of this rather
mundane genre is as follows:
The Demon King or adversary appears.
Heroes form a party.
Heroes embark on a journey to defeat the Demon King.
The process of defeating the Demon King’s subordinates unfolds.
One of the subordinates becomes infatuated with a hero.
At the end of the journey, the Demon King dies, and the world regains peace.
Based on this format, Ivan considered this world to be a classic hero’s tale.
However, now, Ivan was meticulously digging through Kim Sunwoo’s memories from
30 years ago to compile a list.
What’s the formula for academy stories?
Even though Her Highness was throwing out ‘Winter is coming’ lines like she’s a
Stark, she’s way off, man.
It’s January, no doubt, winter’s in full swing, and we just had an awesome New Year’s
bash at the orphanage not long ago.
Basically, there’s still plenty of time before the school semester starts.
“Academy…”
Ivan’s reminiscing about the stuff he impulsively burned down 30 years ago,
yearning for it.
There were some academy stories in there, for sure. Names? Can’t remember, but
they had stuff like demons sneaking into school, epic duels, mystics, or witches…
Jotting down what he’s got, it’s looking like this:
A typical school setup.
“Anything goes in academy.”
Literally, you can have anything from cowboys to demons showing up.
So, even assassins lurking behind the kids of the hero party are in the mix.
“Academies are always under attack.”
Sad truth, academies get invaded more often than frontline forts. Stats say that
unless the main character doesn’t enroll, there’s like a 98% chance of an academy
invasion.
“Demons are always lurking in academies.”
Demon King is history, Seven Dragons, it’s all history. Demons are either slaves or
exiled to the ends of the Earth now.
Outta nowhere, right in the heart of the United Kingdom’s capital, and, of all places,
it’s a dang academy. It doesn’t matter how tight security is; someone’s sneaking in.
So, supporters of demons or the demons themselves gotta be hiding out in the school
for sure.
First things first, forget goblins or orcs, they stick out like a sore thumb, man. No way
they’re hiding in plain sight.
Better believe it’s the shape-shifters like succubi and demons who are laying low.
“Among the undergraduates and staff, there are traitors.”
You gotta keep an eye on instructors who are acting all sketchy towards the main
character.
Chances are they’re cozying up to the demon crew.
“Inside the academy, there’s gotta be some secret treasure troves or hidden relics.”
St. Jan’s Academy, it’s super new, like less than a decade old, right smack in the
capital. But you just know there are ‘secret rooms’ or something hidden in there…
“The students can be divided into three main groups: regular kids, those with some
demon connection, and government agents.”
And when we say ‘students,’ we’re not talking about bookworms. These guys are like
walking accidents waiting to happen, and guess who’s gotta be the hero? Yep, you
guessed it, the main character.
Then you’ve got the rest of the students, the quiet ones that nobody talks about and
the ones who can’t stand the hero.
So far, it’s the usual school drama stuff. But here’s where it gets really interesting.
Students with demon connections, basically demon sympathizers, spies, or cultists.
“If they start causing problems, shut them down before they make things worse.”
The orphanage director, the former boss of the Cleanup Unit, really hammered this
one home.
The best way to protect your crew is to eliminate the enemy.
“Next up, we’ve got government agents.”

When the rich and famous kids enroll, it’s a no-brainer to have agents watching their
backs.
The twist is, these agents often have a side gig as spies for their own countries.
You can’t just take them out, though. Killing them would cause a diplomatic crisis
since they’re technically students.
“There’s no age limit, so even active-duty agents from wartime can enroll.”
The orphanage director, the old Cleanup Unit head, was deep in thought, stroking his
chin.
It would be easier if we knew who’s who. At least we could have a chat with them.
Ivan stared at the decorative hand axe on the office wall, lost in thought.
“Now, when an instructor says everything’s fine during exams, training, or any other
academy situation, you better believe trouble’s on the way.”
That’s why companies should outsource safety inspections and ditch their own
systems, man.
In a school where spies, killers, demons, and traitors outnumber the regular kids,
there’s no safe spot except the principal’s office.
Even Dumbledore didn’t catch his last breath in there.
Normally, the position of principal or chancellor should be held by an administrator,

but strangely, in the academy, it’s ‘common sense’ for the principal to be the
strongest in the world…
“Now, let’s get to the real deal, the ‘ending conditions’ for school stories.”
The academy’s got two goals: ‘stay alive’ and ‘bring world peace’…Hold up.
If this world’s an academy story, then everything that’s happened so far is just the
‘backstory.’
Let’s break it down.

The Demon King made an appearance, the hero took him down, and peace was
restored. But here we are, just four years after the war, and the United Kingdom is on
the brink of chaos. All the nations are racing to rebuild, but it’s a competition for
resources, and old colonial issues are resurfacing. In places where demons once held
sway, countries are still mistreating demon slaves.
So, what’s the real deal here?
“World War? Nah, that’s too grand.”
If this is a school tale, it has to revolve around high school and college-aged
characters. A world war would be too much for kids like that.
So, what then?
“Resurrection of the Demon King…?”
Ivan sipped his coffee, contemplating his notebook like it’s a puzzle he’s solving.
No matter how you slice it, that’s the most logical move. A story where the
descendants of the hero party have to confront a revived Demon King to restore
peace to the world.
Assuming the resurrection of the Demon King is a constant and the students drop
out around their second year… If we expect the academy invasion to occur at least a
year later.
What’s the plan right now?
He jotted down one more line in his notepad, then grabbed his coat as he stood up.
“‘Terror always happens on the academy admission train (or whatever ride they’ve
got).'”
Ever since Harry Potter, in a world with trains, it’s always academy admission by
train. (Or if not, they use carriages. Either way, trains and carriages are easy targets
for terror. Truth is, all forms of transportation are vulnerable. Even walking ain’t
safe.)
This United Kingdom was using military trains left over from the war for regular
travel.
And you can bet that military trains aren’t immune to terror. Ivan knows this from 18
years in the service.
Demons used trains too for transporting military goods, so Ivan’s had his fair share
of stopping train terror and causing some. It got old after a while.
The Cleanup Unit’s missions always unfolded like that.
Today, Ivan was missing South Korea badly. Instead of dealing with stone eggs and
tuna kimbap in a peaceful world, he was on this train, dealing with terrorism and
demons.
He added macbanseok and tuna kimbap to his ‘List of Things to Eat When I Get Back
to Earth.’
***
“Watch me, just watch! Y’all better watch how successful I’m gonna be!”
Ecdysis stood on the train platform with her gear bag and suitcase, puffing her
cheeks and glaring at the crowd.
The crowd was holding up big signs to tease her.
-“Eldest daughter of King Einar the Great, top dog at St. Jan’s Academy!”-
She wasn’t even in second place, let alone first, but Ecdysis didn’t argue. They wrote
that on purpose to see her reaction.
-“So proud of you! Drovian Kingdom’s finest! Gorgeous!”
-“In the blood of the great conqueror, Einar the Great! Takin’ on the world of
orchestration!”
“Orchestration! So what?! What’s wrong with that?!”
Ecdysis shot back and hopped on the train.

Behind her, laughter echoed, “Hahaha!
Man, what a bunch of meanies. They couldn’t even cheer for her…!
The train pulled away, and she hid her face in her sleeves, tears flowin’ as she got
farther from them.
The folks watchin’ her from beyond the train window scattered with low murmurs.
“Think she’ll find her courage?”
“She’s got plenty of dignity, of course she will!”
“Those folks from the Krasilov Kingdom are a bit slow, can’t fully trust ’em.”
“But hey, at least she’s not travelin’ alone. I’m sure she’ll do just fine on her own.”
The crowd that teased Ecdysis and King Einar’s attendants all went their separate
ways, each sharing their concerns.
Daughter of ‘Butcher’ Einar Ulriksson, a hero party warrior. Ecdysis Einarsdotir.
Accepted into the Orchestration Section of the St. Jan’s Academy Music Department!
***
Just two days later, the train carrying Academy admissions from the Drovian
Kingdom, near the Krasilov Kingdom’s border, derailed.
Naturally, it’s ‘common sense’ for a train heading to the academy to face terrorism, so
Ivan wasn’t surprised.
Instead, he grabbed his pistol and axe.

When kids question why the United Kingdom is named so, Ivan suggests they take a
peek at a train map instead.
During the war against the Demon King, the expansive railway system, serving as the
lifeblood connecting cities and nations, ferried crucial military supplies.
These metal beasts cut travel times drastically—what once took over ten days by
carriage now merely took a day. They were the unsung heroes of the war.
“Who’s arriving first?”
“It’s Einar from Drovian, sir. Princess Ecdysis is set to depart first!”
“Still January, isn’t it?”
“Who arrives two months early for the Manlita opening day? Even among royals!
She’s incredibly diligent!”
He chuckled.
“It seems Princess Ecdysis had a tough time in her hometown! People in Drovian
probably find playing musical instruments amusing.”
“Musical instruments?”
“Oops, did I forget to mention? Princess Ecdysis applied to the Conservatory. She’s a
major in the orchestra, specializing in the violin. Impressive, right? The bloodline of
‘that’ Einar, the King, has a knack for the violin.”
Ivan paused, struck by those words.

The Einar he recalled, pre-kingship, was a wild man wielding axes, collecting orc and
minotaur heads.
“Hahaha, look, ‘little’ Ivan! This is how you wield an axe!”
Don’t daughters usually take after their fathers…?
No, that’s not it.
Despite several years passing, Ecdysis remained in Ivan’s memory as a little girl who
adored her father.
In truth, she hardly resembled him, to everyone’s relief.
Nonetheless, she was about to become the strongest conservatory student. Ivan left
a brief comment.
Ecdysis didn’t resemble her father in appearance or personality, but she certainly
had an affinity for wielding an axe.
“By the way, sir, are you certain about this information? Causing an actual train
terror?”
“Yes.”
“Who? I mean, there are too many suspects, but… she’s the daughter of King Einar. If
caught, you’ll face the Blood Eagle punishment for sure.”
The Blood Eagle was a favored folklore game among Drovian citizens, similar to
traditional Korean games like Yut nori or Dano swings1, at least in drawing a crowd.
The specifics were too gruesome to explain in the Krasilov Kingdom’s refined society.
“If you take the shortest route from Drovian to St. Jan’s Academy, here.”
Ivan disregarded his words and drew a solid line on the route map.
Route 12.
One of the trade routes linking the Krasilov Kingdom and the Drovian Kingdom.
“And probably around here, Igorevichi Station. This area seems most plausible.”
“How can you be so certain…? No one would reveal the location for a terror act, right,
sir?”
“Well, it’s set to explode near the border.”
The potential perpetrator behind the terror act remains unknown and
unpredictable. He’s distanced from frontline action and intelligence agencies, yet
speculation arises.
If there’s a recurring terror, the ‘why,’ ‘who,’ and ‘how’ need to align.
“The target would undoubtedly be Princess Ecdysis.”
“Well… If a terror truly happens, that could indeed be the case.”
“Why, though?”
“…What?”
Certainly, to stoke conflict between Krasilov and Drovian.
That’s evident.
“So, if they aim to implicate the Krasilov Kingdom, the terror must happen within
our borders, right?”
“Um… uh, yes, that makes sense.”
“But after Igorevichi Station, this route crosses three military zones.”
While trains might be susceptible to terror, these zones offer added security. Not
entirely surrounded, but the route passes through at least three strongholds, a
design primarily for military use.
“As it approaches the capital, security naturally tightens, making Igorevichi Station
the most vulnerable.”
“Oh… yes, that’s true.”

“When is Princess Ecdysis scheduled to depart?”
A train terror demands substantial resources. Everyone involved loses years, even
decades of infrastructure from the moment the incident occurs. The losses far
outweigh gains from sabotaging a civilian railway.
Even if it were an attempt on King Einar’s cherished daughter, the losses would be
immense. An incident on the train lacks clear accountability, making it challenging to
escalate beyond a conflict, cooling diplomatic relations.
Stirring vigilance for such modest goals is seen as futile. Hence, the Krasilov royal
family invests only minimal security.
This is the ‘common sense’ of this world—a rational judgment. Yet, Ivan’s ‘common
sense’ differed, as it was official.
Four peaceful years have passed since the Demon King’s disappearance. Ivan’s
anticipation of a train terror isn’t typical, especially when it’s merely about a foreign
princess’s arrival and the usual receptions in the capital station.
“I’ll need to do this three more times.”
With a heavy sigh, Ivan stepped onto the train platform. Besides the Saintess, only
four members of the hero party were departing from abroad.
For ‘Academy Entrance Train’ safety, he had to secure all five entry routes—a
tiresome task in this otherworld.
Ivan boarded the train, pressing his temples firmly.
***
As Ivan departed towards the border, his junior headed to the palace to report.
“Your Highness, Sir Dmitry Cherkatov is at the palace.”
“In court, I’m the Royal Chancellor.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”

The opulent office exuded grandeur, housing Princess Elizaveta Kirillovna Krasilova.
Amid a cluttered table, she absentmindedly toyed with a pen.
“Report.”
“Sir Petrovich has left.”
“Exclude what’s known.”
“They suspect a train terror. Time and place seem quite clear.”
Elizaveta halted her pen play.
“Did Vanca have an informant?”
“No, not in the past 4 years.”
Running an intelligence organization relies on managing human resources for

effective operations.
Although Ivan’s actions were speculative, there was a sense of ‘certainty’ in him.
It felt like four years ago when he embarked on his last mission, making claims of a
terror act without evidence, almost as if it were common knowledge.
Had someone other than Ivan made such a claim, Elizaveta would easily have
dismissed it as ‘unreasonable.’
“This information might turn out to be nothing, but Sir Petrovich is active again. Your
Grace, the legend hasn’t died at all,” Dmitry remarked.
The credibility of the information is a secondary issue. Since Ivan set off alone
without requesting support, even if the information were wrong, there would be no
loss at all.
Dmitry recalled his first encounter with Ivan, noting his instinctive ability to
suppress any signs—a fundamental skill for an eradication unit.
Even in identifying an unseen position and height behind a closed door, Ivan’s
preparedness for any potential threat was remarkable, a skill not common among
active agents.
A faint chuckle echoed across the table, a sound Dmitry hadn’t heard in three years.
“Hehehe, hehehe…”
“Your Grace…?”
“Assign someone to document Vanca’s daily activities. Compile it for an urgent report
available for inspection anytime.”
“Why not attend personally if you want it reported that way…?”
“If that were the case, I wouldn’t have sat idle for four years.”
Elizaveta chuckled and resumed writing.
“It’s better to reunite at a more opportune moment, a more perfect timing.”
“Oh, yes…”
“Anyway, instead of making empty chatter, go and defend your country, soldier. Go!”
“Yes, Your Grace. Agent Dmitri Cherkatov will proceed,” replied Dmitri with a
troubled expression as he left the Eastern Chambers.
How can it be considered romantic and noble when every action of yours is
meticulously observed and documented?
Well, Dmitri would certainly feel terrified if his lover engaged in such behavior.
***
When Dmitri’s agents reached Igorovich Station, they found three neatly wrapped
body bags, but Ivan Petrovich was nowhere to be found, the crime scene
meticulously cleansed of blood.
At that moment, Ivan was running through the woods with an axe.
Igorovich Station is a small, tranquil rural stop situated in a humble village, playing a
role no more significant than the Krasilov-Drovian border checkpoint.
Consequently, the passengers disembarking at this station are limited to village

residents and logistics distributors – no one else.
“There’s something suspicious about them.”
Three men in one corner of the station appear to be rather dubious.
Firstly, a man in the waiting room corner is seen glancing at the clock and
newspaper.
At first glance, it seems like he’s checking the train schedule, but in reality, he’s
already seen off three trains.
Next, a man with crossed arms, seemingly dozing off.
Although he appears to be passing time as usual, he subtly opens his eyes whenever
someone heads to the restroom or the newspaper stand.
Lastly, a man selling dried vegetables in the waiting room corner.
It’s almost comical. He hasn’t sold any vegetables to anyone in the waiting room –
who would even buy vegetables at such a remote rural station in the first place?
Crucially, as a peasant himself, Ivan knew the condition of those vegetables. They
weren’t dried for preservation but left unattended for too long, causing them to
wither.
Beneath the newspaper, Ivan moved his hand, gripping a gun. It’s 9 o’clock, and the
train carrying Princess Ecdysis is about to arrive.
Perhaps it’s worth investigating.
He stood up slowly, folded the newspaper, and headed for the trash can. In the
process, he discreetly pressed the gun’s muzzle against the dozing man’s neck.
“!!”
“Stay quiet.”
Shocked, the man attempted to reach for his chest but froze at the cold touch of the
gun’s muzzle.
Okay. Confirmed he has a pistol there.
Judging by his instantaneous reaction, he’s trained.
“W-What the hell are you doing there?”
“Stop!”
The other two in the waiting room shouted simultaneously, jumping to their feet.
This was absurd. The gun Ivan pointed at him was concealed by the newspaper,
making it appear from the outside as if he had just placed his hand on the man’s
neck.
In other words, the three of them were colluding.
But just to be certain.
He mentioned not needing support himself, but maybe Elizaveta is sending agents.
“Where do your loyalties lie?”
“What, what?”
If this person is indeed an agent of Elizaveta and loyal to the Krasilov royal family,
there is no way he could have interrupted this sentence.
This is not only the Cleanup Unit but also one of the first questions posed by national
intelligence officers.
It’s like frontline soldiers saying, ‘Halt! If you move, we will shoot!’ Even if it’s a lie,
it’s the initial and perhaps the ultimate question that must be answered at all costs.
It’s the first and probably the last question you have to answer, even if you have to
lie.
So, this guy acted for money, a mere mercenary.
-Bang!
A bullet flew from the muzzle, instantly severing the man’s cervical spine.
The man in Ivan’s grasp crumbled without a single response.
“Shit!!”
“Shoot! Shoot that guy!!”
The vegetable seller and the man reading the newspaper hastily stood up, drawing
guns from their chests.
This indicates several things.
Firstly, they’re in cahoots.
Secondly, they are amateurish.
Thirdly, they are not affiliated with the Krasilov monarchy.
Lastly, they have never faced a true adversary.
– Bang! Bang!
Instinctively fired shots grazed Ivan’s shoulder and whizzed by his head.
They seem good at aiming, but their lack of ‘line of fire detection’ shows they’re
really cheap mercenaries.
As they readjusted to shoot again, Ivan was already swinging an axe toward the
vegetable seller and aiming a gun at the man reading the newspaper.
-Bang, bang!
“Aaaarrhh!!!”
The man, with both wrists severed, let out a horrifying scream as he collapsed, while
the man with a bullet precisely lodged in his forehead couldn’t even scream.
Ivan wiped the bloodied axe on the fallen vegetable seller’s coat as he approached.
“Are you the only ones?”
“Ugh… where did this monster come from…?”
“Monster…?”
Ivan momentarily tilted his head, questioning the term.
A monster? For just this level?
The words they spat out, trying to antagonize the warrior Einar, seem utterly absurd.
If Einar had been here in person, there wouldn’t have been any combat. That lunatic
would have already decimated the waiting room.
“Oh, this, this wasn’t supposed to… wasn’t supposed to be…!”
The bleeding is severe. Without proper hemostasis after severing the radial and
ulnar arteries at the wrist, death within 5 minutes is inevitable. With both hands
severed, it’s even worse.
The vegetable seller, already pale and trembling, shook his chin.
Ivan sighed and rummaged through the man’s belongings. No ID, a few Eastern coins,
a tattered pocket, and a strange small device with odd buttons. Faint magical aura,
perhaps a signal device.
“You’ll die within 3 minutes if I don’t stop the bleeding. Where are the others?”
“T-They’re by the railway tracks…”
“How many?”
“Fifteen… You, you can’t, can’t do anything…! I’ll, I’ll help you! S-Save me! They’re all
armed, and our leader, he’s a real monster!! If you save me, I-I’ll distract them!!”
The vegetable seller screamed in a trembling voice. Wanting to live is natural.

Anyone watching blood flow profusely in real-time would panic.
Ivan nodded. The vegetable seller’s complexion noticeably brightened.
“You were left behind to signal the ‘leader’ in the event of any other changes. You
three are the scouts.”
“Y-Yeah! I’m really useful!”
This guy was unaware of ‘line of fire detection.’ So, their leader was likely at that
level too.
“Have you heard what’s on the train?”
“It’s a bullion train…! They said it’s a trade goods train sent by Drovian to Krasilov!”
“Understood.”
“You’re, you’re going to spare me, right? I answered all your questions! I didn’t lie!!”
“No, there were lies mixed in.”
“No! It’s not true!!”
Ivan coolly looked down at the man.
“You said you’re useful.”
“W-What…?”
These guys were nothing more than cheap thieves who were bought off. There’s no
valuable information to extract from them through interrogation.
If anything, it would be the leader. At least, I should be able to get some clues.
– Thwack!
Ivan rose and swung the axe, striking the man’s head.
With a thud, the man’s body collapsed.
He pressed the receiver, listening to the direction of the magic line.
Not far.
Ivan wiped the axe blade on the man’s coat and fastened it to his waist.
It’s 9:03. If the train operates normally, it’ll arrive at this station by 10:00.
In fifty minutes, the train terror will occur.
“So.”
“Plenty of time.”
Ivan chuckled as he organized the bodies. It took just five minutes to erase the
bloodstains and signs of combat.
Erasing traces was one of the most critical aspects of the Cleanup Unit’s training.
***
There was a reason for Ivan’s relaxed demeanor.
According to the formula of the academy story, train terror never harms the
‘protagonist and main characters.’
When the train is attacked, the protagonist safely escapes with someone’s help and
arrives at the academy unharmed.
Ivan never intended to prevent the train terror from the beginning.
“This is a tutorial.”
Ivan was running through the forest. Occasionally, as the signal weakened, he
pressed the button to confirm the reception direction.
“A tutorial is a step to help the player adapt to the game.”
So, they employed such sloppy thieves to attack the ‘Children of the Hero Party.’ It’s a
design to get accustomed to combat from the lower-level segments.
Initially, Ivan pondered who among the Hero Party would be the ‘protagonist.’
He soon deduced the correct answer.
All of them.
Everyone is a protagonist. Each member of the Children of the Hero Party is a

protagonist.
When playing the game and creating the first character, you’re given ‘archetype’
characters. These are characters with unique storylines in the world. Crucially, they
have ‘entirely different attributes or professions.’
– Isabelle, the Warrior’s Daughter. Dual occupation: Mage and Warrior.
– Oscar, the Knight’s Son. Knight.
– Elphira, the Sorceress’s Daughter. Sorceress.
– Ecdysis, the Berserker’s Daughter. Presumably dual occupation: Bard and

Berserker.
– Lucia, the Apprentice of the Rogue. Rogue or Assassin.
If the player chooses one of these during character selection, they’ll have to resolve
the ‘Train Terror’ as their tutorial.
Thus, Ivan changed his thinking.
‘If all characters’ tutorials revolve around Train Terror, then one can anticipate the
terrorist group beforehand.’
If you repeat the same thing six times, it’s sure to leave a trace.
Ivan sprinted through the undergrowth, pressing the receiver once more.
This time, he felt the magic line emanating from a very close location.
“Tutorials are left to the protagonist, and I’ll eliminate the variables.”
He won’t prevent the Train Terror. Anyway, the Train Terror is a ‘constant.’ If stopped
in advance, it might lead to issues in a different way.
So, it’s better to identify the group behind the Train Terror instead.
Then, at the academy, track down and eliminate any traces of that group.
Avoid direct confrontation, conduct espionage from the rear, and eradicate the
threats. That’s the method of the Cleanup Unit.
The leader ‘Hugo’ has been silently staring at the signal lamp that has been flashing
brightly since earlier.
“Is this thing broken?”
That signal gadget cost a fortune, all set for emergency escapes from the Igorovich
Station.
It keeps blinking, like, once every minute or so.
The emergency signal should be three quick presses, but it’s glitching and giving a
single blink, like it’s messed up or something.
“Man, this thing cost a ton!”
“Hey, Commander, chill. Money’s easy to make, right?”
“What about the guys?”
“They’re in position, bombs planted. When the train rolls in, boom, loot, and gone!
Best-case scenario, 15 minutes tops!”
“Great. Here comes the train. Get ready, everyone!”
“Yes, sir!”
The train, billowing steam, was coming closer. Thirty minutes from Igorovich Station,
just over an hour on foot.
Even if it derails, they’d have a two-hour window before backup arrives.

“Blow it up!!!”
Hugo yelled and…
– Boom!
The explosives went off, shaking the ground.
The train screeched, tilted, and derailed.
“Go, grab it all!”
“Hahaha!! We’re rich now!!!”
Word was the train’s carrying loads of gold bars. After melting and scrubbing off the
royal symbols, how much could they pocket in the black market?
Hugo chuckled, watching the faulty signal blink, planning to grill that tricky wizard
he bought it from.
– Whoa!
– Crash!
The train went off the tracks, twisting and falling.
Ivan, up in a tree, scanned the scene.
One looked like a commander, another a lieutenant, with about three more by them.
“About ten are making a beeline for the train.”
Estimating about fifteen folks, his count seemed about right.
Ivan jumped down, handgun in hand.
– Bang! –
“!!!”
“!!?”
With a distant rumble, the bandits either hit the ground or scrambled behind trees.
So, this one dude gets hit in the head by a stray bullet. None of these five guys had
any ‘line of fire detection.’
Bullets and stuff don’t work on the tough ones. That’s why the hero party doesn’t
have any archers. The ‘strong’ can sense the ‘life’ within a discharged firearm,
making it ineffective against them
To handle that, enchanting a weapon to remove the ‘life’ from it is crucial. But, you
can’t do that with stuff like bullets or arrows once they’re out of your hand.
So, the strong ones don’t hide. They jump right at the gunshot’s direction to handle
their foes. Getting surprised by a gunshot is just for the weak.
That’s why the hit squad carries handguns. They’re not just for sizing up the
opponent’s strength but also for dealing with the weak in small fights.
“Who’s there!!”
That loud guy is probably the leader, worth keeping alive for valuable info. The rest?
No need.
Ivan steps out from behind the tree towards the guys.
“Bang! Bang!!”
– Rat-a-tat!!
Bullets flying all over the place. Ivan reloads as he walks.
Click, bullet hitting a vest.
– Bang! –
“Arghh?!!”
One down.
Click again, bullets bouncing off a mag.
– Bang! –
Another one.
Click, bang, click, ting-!
Every shot, one less guy.
Trained agents might not have mastered ‘Line of Fire Detection,’ but they’re not
foolish to get caught in gunfire.
Ivan, seeing he’s alone and they’re not trained, starts shooting.
Result? Skill, experience, and training make a difference.
Four guys with bullets in their heads and one big dude shaking.
“You, you…!!”
The man winces, drops the gun, pulls out a knife.
Not a bad move. If bullets miss, guns are useless.
“Who sent you? Where the hell did you come from?!”
– Bang! –
– Thud!
Knife drawn, meets a bullet, making him drop the handle, clutch his wrist, and
stagger back.
Faced with a massive difference in skill, the guy goes pale, starts shaking
“Are you good at remembering faces?”
“Umm… you, you, yeah, I totally remember you! Just wait and see! I…”
“Lucky for you. From now on, you’ll need to remember some stuff.”
Ivan didn’t expect this guy to spill about the train incident.
An organization causing such chaos wouldn’t leave obvious clues.
So, it began with observations. Anything that could hint at something, no matter how
small.
Walking style, behavior, what they wore.
Maybe a stand-out tattoo or some bling.
Even how they talk and their accents.
“If something comes to mind, answer it.”
Ivan said quietly, wielding his axe.
He didn’t plan to kill. This guy was like a tutorial boss, meant for the main character.
But causing pain was different. Ivan knew plenty of ways to inflict pain without
messing up someone’s basic functions.
9:35 AM.
Ten minutes post-train mess.
Mission accomplished! Train troublemaker nabbed!
***
“Ouch…!!”
Ecdysis held her head, groaning. She couldn’t focus.
Her dad’s vassals were causing havoc in first-class; no one was around to explain.
She shook her head, trying to get up.

“Huh?”
She found herself by the window. The seat she was napping in was now sprawled
next to her. Train seats don’t tilt like that. She realized the train had flipped.
“Ow, it hurts… Hello? Anyone-?”
She called out, looking around. She heard noises, but the usual panic after a train
accident wasn’t there.
“So, this… this.”
“Bandits!!”
Ecdysis gasped, covering her mouth. Bandits raiding trains was rare. What could
they possibly want from this train…!
“No, no! I’m all alone!!”
Freaked out, Ecdysis huddled down.
Seems like usual talk, but Ecdysis’s words surprisingly rang true this time.
“What do I do…!”
After warning everyone not to tail her or else face serious consequences, she found
herself all alone.
Ecdysis felt her head going blank and quickly grabbed her instrument case.
Luckily, even with the train flipping, her violin was unharmed.
“Phew, thank goodness! What if you got messed up…?”
She delicately opened the case and gave her violin a gentle stroke.
Then, she gripped the violin’s neck, holding it like an ‘axe.’
Musicians often say instruments are like life. From this, you’d figure Ecdysis was
ready to use her own life in a battle.
‘The Strongest Violinist’ student, risking it all, stepping in to handle the train chaos!
***
Before King Einar unified the Drovian Kingdom. Before the Demon King threat.
Back then, the Drovian Kingdom was filled with tribal leaders known as ‘Yals.’
Among the crazies making rivers of blood with axes and knives (and sometimes with
their tongues for polite greetings), there was a special group.
The ‘Geshins’ of the Yals. Huscals.
Different from knights who formed military bonds for cash and land, Huscals were
all about loyalty and skill.
Knights got paid, but Huscals? Loyalty was their only pay. They didn’t ask for much
besides basics and a share in the spoils. No cash, no land.
Even without blood ties, they were ‘brothers,’ eating together, using the same bed in
the same household. (Not necessarily sharing the night together, just to be clear.)
King Einar had a bunch of these ‘brothers.’
“Urgh… Urgh…!”
A dude was panting at the forest edge, eyeing the flipped train.
“Those darn scoundrels took my niece-!!”
His niece, who wouldn’t hurt a fly, is on that train now!!
Fuming with anger, he started hyperventilating and pounding his chest.
“If anyone tries to tail me, I’ll seriously harm them!”
When Ecdysis said that to King Einar, the great Drovian warrior saw the answer to
this puzzle.
“Aha, I simply shouldn’t draw attention!”

Since trustworthy folks saw Ecdysis as their niece and cared for her, even with a
decent disguise, it was hard not to stand out on the same train.
Sending her alone on the next train across the border was a worry.
So, Einar, the boss man of Drovian, cleverly cracked it: “Aha, then what it needs to do
is follow the train!'”
He gathered his crew, his ‘siblings,’ and asked seriously,
“Who’s ready to guard our Ecy?”
“”Me, sir!!! I’d protect her with my life!!!””
“Who’s up for running alongside the train?”
““That’s me, sir!!!””
The tough Huscals of Drovian all raised their hands and hollered.
Big, burly dudes in their forties, mouths wide open like they’re ready to eat, yelling.
Watching this odd scene, Einar asked seriously,
“Let’s see who can get into St. Jan’s Academy.”
“…!!”
St. Jan’s Academy has a killer entrance test. While some felt cool about the practical
part or interview, the written test was too much, so they backed out. (Warriors didn’t
care much for book smarts.)
But one dude kept his hand up.
“From now on, you’re a freshman at Athletic College.”
“Yes, sir!! I’ll guard Ecy with all I got!!”
“Good. Go, brother.”

“Yes, sir!!!”
This went down two months ago. The guy sneaked into Krasilov during the St. Jan’s
entrance tests in November, aced the written test, and got into Athletic College. (He
barely passed the written test and aced the practical.)
Fortunately, St. Jan’s had no age limits…
One January day, after non-stop chasing the train for two days, a guy was panting
hard as he stopped.
He saw the train derailment from 2 km away, started charging, flattening every tree
in his path.
The strongest Athletic College student, rushing in to save the top Music College
student!
“Ugh… *cough*… It hurts…”
“It’s alright. You’re not going to die.”
“Just let me die…”
“Don’t say that.”
Ivan whispered tenderly as he poured a potion over Hugo’s body.
As the starry, cold liquid made contact with his skin, Hugo convulsed, emitting soft
cries.
Ivan understood this man’s heart well. Most soldiers on the front lines despised
healing potions, despite their crucial importance akin to rations. Senior members,
commanders, and even enemies empathized with this sentiment, comprehending
the suffering they entail.
Ivan himself had once been forcibly administered a healing potion when his arm was
almost torn off.
“I’d rather lose the arm! Aaaahh!!”
“Please refrain from saying that, Petrovich. Your body is a treasure to your country!”
“Who treats a treasure like this!!!”
It was an incident from his youthful and immature years. After that harrowing event,
Ivan took great care to avoid severe injuries.
Healing potions inflicted a pain akin to a vile drug from his past as Kim Sunwoo—its
cursed name being Albocil.
However, during his time in the Cleansup Unit, Ivan found a new appreciation for
healing potions.
The pain invoked by the healing potion was akin to pouring salt on a wound.
Yet, it undeniably facilitated healing.
Thus, even during the process of healing wounds sustained during interrogation, the
questioning persisted.
It was indeed sustainable interrogation. Ivan’s colleagues in the Cleansup Unit were
amazed by his approach. (Unfortunately, in this world, there was no established
Geneva Convention protecting prisoners’ rights.)
“No, I don’t… know… I don’t have… anything… more to tell you! Please… stop…”
“You’re even more useless than I had anticipated.”
“Save me… No, end me…”
“No, you have to live.”
Because he was the tutorial boss.
*Splatter.*
Ivan administered the potion into the man’s mouth again, closed it, and rose to his
feet.
He found that the criminal group responsible for the train terror sported thick coats,
were adult males, and obscured their faces with a recognition-inhibiting spell.
Given that it was January, it was unsurprising for adult men to don heavy coats.
It wasn’t possible to determine their nationality based on speech or accent. Ivan

hadn’t expected the culprit to lack such distinguishing details.
Ivan clicked his tongue and surveyed the train. The train remained quiet, which
wasn’t necessarily a negative sign.
“Princess Ecdysis is still in the fray.”
Had Ecdysis the princess been defeated, bandits would have swarmed out of the
train. Although they hadn’t found any gold, they had captured a noble for ransom.
No one had emerged from the train yet, a sign of Ecdysis’s safety.
Thinking so, the moment Ivan rose to approach the train.
At that instant, a danger sensor sent an intense warning to his forehead.
Forehead?
No, it was his entire face.
“Whooosh—”
Amidst the sound of tearing wind.
“Kwaaaah—!!”
Similar to a shotgun blast, a boulder whizzed past where Ivan had stood moments
before.
Ivan swiftly evaded, dodging the line of fire. Boom, boom, boom! A pellet struck Hugo
squarely.
“Come out.”
The thrower displayed unexpected strength.
Therefore, the opponent must also be aware of the “line of fire.”
As it was clear they would be drawn into a full-fledged battle, the opponent, too, had
to reveal themselves.
“The leader is a real monster!”

I dismissed it because the words came from an amateur unfamiliar with the ‘line of
fire.’ Are you telling me this Hugo guy wasn’t a leader? If so, I just wasted a bunch of
potions.
Ivan pondered dispassionately as he observed the approaching man from a distance.
“You’re quite resilient.”
A muscular, middle-aged man with rock-solid muscles approached, growling.
An intensely threatening aura surrounded Ivan.
“But daring to harm my nibling shows your foolishness despite your capabilities.”
Nibling? Is this person related to him? What an annoyance1.
Ivan clenched his teeth, holstering his pistol and gripping an axe in each hand.
“You’d better have some valuable information.”
“Nonsense… Come. Let me end you.”
The man bared his teeth and raised his axe.
In the following moment, the two men collided.
***
“Whooom! Thud!!”
Ecdysis gritted her teeth upon hearing the violin signboard twist.
“Please hold on a bit, Vio-unnie!”
Violins aren’t meant for striking. Most instruments, such as electric guitars, aren’t
made for that purpose. They shine on stage through playing.
Thus, with each swing of Ecdysis’s delicate and fragile wooden string instrument, the
front panel twisted, the backboard bent, slowly beginning to break.
However, Vio-unnie (the 2-year-old violin) never disregarded the memories and
friendship shared with Ecdysis.
As Vio-unnie was wielded, something shattered – mostly the skulls of adult men.
“She’s insane! What’s wrong with that woman!!”
“Where’s the gold! Hey! What happened to the cargo compartment!”
“There’s nothing!! We’ve been tricked!”
The bandits wanted to flee. No gold, a blown-up train, and the inevitable pursuit by
the military. Meanwhile, the woman with the violin was taking down individuals left
and right.
Ecdysis also wanted to flee. The dwindling life of Vio-unnie felt vivid with each
passing moment, fighting was frightening, and she didn’t even know where she was.
“Phooof!”
“Thud!”
Vio-unnie claimed another thief’s teeth and finally met its end.
Ecdysis held the remaining piece of the violin’s signboard, sighing with a heavy
heart.
“Vio-unnie… You were a splendid instrument…”
“You’re insane, you’re insane!!”
“Aren’t we supposed to flee? This isn’t the time to fight!”
“She’s goading us into fighting for our lives, isn’t she?”
“Where’s the boss now!”
Unaware of the conflict erupting between the muscle-bound man and the special
forces officer, the bandits retreated, muttering and wavering.
That turned out to be a mistake.
***
The ‘Butcher’ Ainar’s daughter shared many traits with her mother but, notably, in
‘anger,’ ‘fighting spirit,’ and ‘combat skills,’ she took after her father.
To the warriors of Drovian, they were like blood siblings. She couldn’t let the death of
her long-time companion, Vio-unnie (a 2-year-old instrument), be in vain.
With a gentle gesture, she tenderly caressed Vio-unnie’s remains and slowly stood
up.
“Vio-unnie, I’ll always remember your sacrifice. I’ve always been thankful, and I’m
sorry.”
“That woman is insane. I’ll stop her. You all run.”
“Brother!!”
“Hurry! You all need to survive too!”
The remaining bandit remnants turned to flee, tears streaming, heading back to their
boss’s location.
Amidst this departure, the sole bandit left turned to Ecdysis with a determined face.
“Please don’t misunderstand, miss.”
“…Yes?”
“We had no idea you were on this train. But if you spare us, we’ll testify in court. Isn’t
Krasilov a country of justice? Spare us!”
The thief dropped his weapons, knelt, and pleaded. It was a wise move.
The fleeing bandits were now caught between the angry Huscal and the furious
Cleansup Unit officer, for the moment.
***
“What’s the point in bringing in more amateurs!”
“…Quite a few of them have survived. But it won’t change anything.”
The two men, fighting and clashing with axes, simultaneously shouted as they
observed bandits pouring out of the train.
“Ecdysis, what happened to the woman on that train? There was a young blonde
woman. Is she safe?”
“My nibling!! Is my nibling safe?!”
At the man’s outcry, Ivan paused for a moment.
Wasn’t the nibling this guy?
Ivan glanced at Hugo, hit by shrapnel and unconscious in the midst of the battle, and
grimaced.
This fight was exceptionally challenging.
For an early tutorial, the man in front of him was an excessively designed boss.
It appeared this individual was meant to act as a gatekeeper, akin to Souls-like

games, but his attack patterns were too diverse for a beginner to handle.
In that case…
“The train attack of the Academy never results in the protagonist’s death. A helper
shows up to provide assistance.”
Was this man the helper?
Presumably, the tutorial boss fight was intended to acquaint you with the concept of
multiplayer combat by facing a group of amateurs who escaped from the train and
an underwhelming boss.
Ivan sighed, readying his axe. It was too worn out to be kept anymore. Though
weapons were generally expendable, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
“Well, hold on a moment. Weren’t you two collaborating…?”
“I’m not sure why you’d have that misconception.” (Ivan)
The man stashed his weapons away, eyeing Ivan sharply.
“You were applying healing potions to that guy.”
“I see.”
Labeling it as the Cleansup Unit’s interrogation method was an exaggeration. There

wasn’t a convincing way to explain it.
Ivan shrugged.
“I was investigating something.”
“Ah, you should’ve mentioned that earlier.”
But there wasn’t time for Ivan to explain.
As Ivan observed the man with a troubled expression, the man smiled, noticing a
woman bustling out of the train.
“My niece!! Ecdysis!! You’re safe!!”
“Uncle?!”
Ignoring the man rushing out, Ivan glanced at the terrified bandits amidst the scene,
which appeared devastated as if a bomb had exploded.
The target was safe, and the helper had sufficient ability to keep the target safe until
they reached St. Jan’s Academy.
Revealing his identity would cause trouble, and Ecdysis seemed to recognize him. It
had been a long seven years, but she might remember Ivan after all, when she was
just a ten-year-old kid.
All obtainable information had been secured. Ivan turned back and withdrew.
***
Ecdysis, the eldest daughter of the berserker Einar.
Arrival at Krasilov.
Sent a Huscal (presumably) as a Drovian dispatcher.
Successfully ensured the target’s safety.
Urgently sent an encrypted brief report to the Royal Court, Ivan boarded the train
heading for the capital.
The day had been exhausting compared to the result.
***
“Ecdysis, do you happen to remember someone named Ivan?”
“Mr. Ivan?! Yes, of course!”
Ecdysis, whose face lit up at the familiar name, soon turned somber.
“He was truly a remarkable person… kind and impressive…”
“I’m not entirely certain, but whatever.”
The man moved on, frowning.
Under a makeshift litter crafted from the torn train carriage doors, six or so bandits
cowered, carrying the litter.
Speaking in a hushed tone to avoid being overheard by Ecdysis on the litter, the man
murmured, “I thought I heard he died two years ago.”
His fighting style felt familiar, and he joined the Krasilov commandos.
The familiarity with the axe was peculiar, much like Ainar’s. If it was someone from
Krasilov who learned axe techniques from Ainar, there was only one person that fit
the description.
“Reserve Ivan Petrovich.”
More precisely, ‘Hero Reserve’ Ivan Petrovich. He was considered a potential

candidate to join the Hero Party in case of vacancies.
That individual was known to have befriended one of the Seven Dragons during the
post-Demon King’s death annihilation battle.
Due to the thick beard, the dense forest, and the anger in his eyes, Han didn’t have
the chance to thoroughly examine the other person’s appearance.
He seemed affiliated with the royal intelligence organization, so Han was confident
they would meet at least once while working in the capital.
By then, he should at least consider shaving. The man shrugged and walked away.
It would be a week-long journey to the capital.
The two ‘freshmen’ from St. Jan’s Academy commenced their journey via train-litter!
1. The translation for ‘nephew’ in Korean is ‘조카’ (joka), and for ‘niece,’ it is ‘조카’ as
well. In Korean, the same term ‘조카’ is used for both nephews and nieces. So, I’m
using ‘nibling’ for it as it’s gender-neutral.
Back when I served in the Cleansup Unit, we dealt with some pretty intense stuff.
There was this crew of big shot generals in the Demon Army known as the Seven
Dragon Kings. Each one staked the honor of their species, considering themselves
the ‘heroes’ of their kind.
Before the hero party showed up, the United Kingdom was getting trounced pretty
bad by these demon types.
It was impossible to fend off these demon creatures, as they surpassed humans
physically and were dead set on taking over the world.
The war with the Demon’s Army was essentially a war between humans and all
other species.
The brainiacs from the United Kingdom, feeling trapped, came up with a plan.
“To break the unity of the demons, we need a sneaky move, not an all-out brawl.”
They sent our soldiers to the front lines, desperately trying to hold the fort.
Meanwhile, they planned to send an ‘assassin’ to bump off the Seven Dragon Kings
and mess up the enemy’s unity.
Since the demons were just a bunch of strong tribal nations, once the Dragon Kings
were gone, their crew would start fighting among themselves for the top spot,
causing internal conflicts.
And guess what? It worked.
So, in the big picture, the hero party was basically an assassination squad.
Thrown into battle but always coming back in one piece. That’s why even the big
shot kings from different kingdoms didn’t mess with them easily.
That’s why Ivan couldn’t stand the hero party.
It reminded him of the reason the Krasilovs Royal Family decided to disband the
Cleansup Unit.
We were too good with our swords to keep around during peaceful times.
Chapter 8: These orphans need a director
Ivan got hold of the schedules for the hero party’s kids as intel and enjoyed his
leisure time.
His plan was foolproof.
First, a few days back, the rescue of Ecdysis.
Then Isabelle, Hero Maximilian’s daughter, was set to leave in early February from
Tyllese Kingdom.
Shortly after, within a few days, Oscar, Knight Jilber’s son, also departing from Tyllese
Kingdom.
There wasn’t much to worry about with these two. Tyllese and Krasilov had okay
relations even before the war, and they were close enough geographically to handle
any trouble during the train journey.
As for Elphiera, the wizard Veolgrin’s daughter, she wasn’t taking the train in the first
place. Veolgrin’s turf was an island beyond the Black Sea, the Kalion Empire. She’d be
coming by warship, making her safer than anyone else.
Krasilov lacks a harbor, so she’s likely to arrive via Tyllese since there is no direct
route. However, I doubt she’d leave an entourage behind if he arrived by ship in the
first place.
Finally, Enrique’s apprentice, Lucia.

She was from Krasilov Kingdom and seemed to have already arrived somewhere in
the capital.
Seems like no big deal even if checked briefly at the end, and he didn’t feel an urgent
need to meet her soon.
So, basically, if I let the train situation for the two new students in February pass
smoothly, the rest can be managed without my direct involvement.
The train terror itself was part of the tutorial process.
Through Ecdysis, now fully convinced. There was no reason for him to act until
enrollment.
And so…
“Man, I’m craving some kimchi stew.”
He passed his time making a list of ‘foods to devour once back on Earth.’
Chilling by the cozy fire in the director’s office with a cup of coffee became his
treasured leisure.
Tteokbokki. But not the fancy kind. Not the usual delivery-style tteokbokki with a lot
of soup.
He was longing for that homemade street-style, hipster tteokbokki from the school’s
snack bar. He could remember that joint that sprinkled curry powder; it was all the
rage.
“Ah, I miss home…”
“Are you leaving us again?”
“…”
Ivan’s relaxed gaze suddenly sharpened. The internal Kim Sunwoo vanished, leaving
him alone, turning around.
A little kid was hanging by the window.

“How long have you been standing there…?”
“Since you started mumbling about food, Director!”
“This is the third floor here.”
“I’m known for diligently working hard in class!”
“…Does our curriculum now include wall climbing…?”
Ivan strolled to the window, opened it wide, scooped up the giggling kid, and
carefully placed them back inside the room.
“I won! See that?”
“Don’t turn it into a game. Use the hallway next time. It’s dangerous here.”
“Well, it’s the only way I can win!”
At St. Basilicia Orphanage, there’s a favorite game: sneaking up on the director.
It was a hit among the kids. Ivan, the mysterious man who effortlessly caught objects
flying behind him without even looking, made him a fantastic buddy for the kids who
judged based on actions, not appearances.
“I’ll fix you some hot cocoa, just drink it and scram.”
“Yay!”
Ivan didn’t object. After all, these orphans needed a way to survive once they left the
orphanage.
If one can outsmart his senses, they won’t go hungry no matter where they end up.
After seeing the kid off with a smile, Ivan settled back into his peaceful downtime.
He had about two weeks until Isabelle hopped on that train.
That’s how he used to think until a student got snatched out of the blue.
***
“Let me go, what the heck do you think you’re doing?”
“You folks don’t get it. If our director finds out, you’re in for it!”
“Wow, this kid doesn’t know where she stands right now!”
Frechenkaya, the capital of Krasilov, is a big deal on the continent. Like any city, it’s
got its ‘back alleys’ and ‘rough areas,’ where all sorts hang out, including gangs and
some seedy characters. Among them are the ‘assassination organizations.’
If you stab someone with a knife, you will be brought to justice. The law tends to be a
little stricter the higher up you are, but the pay is also sky-high.
So, these assassins figure they can risk it, stab once, and vanish with a bag full of
cash after the deed.
That whole stylish assassin like Leon, sneaking in, slashing, and vanishing in the
dark? Yeah, that’s just in the movies.
“So, who’s your director then!”
“I-Ivan Petrovich! Heard that name, huh?”
“What? Hahaha!”
These guys definitely knew the name Ivan.
Heck, even the surname Petrovich.
In Krasilov, Ivan’s as common as John, and Petrovich isn’t far off from Doe.
It’s like when someone laughs at the mention of a basic name like John Doe. The folks
in Frechenkaya’s back alleys chuckled at the name.
Then, a hushed voice cut through the darkness of the alley.
“Hold on.”
The gang members were spooked, lowering their weapons and stepping back as a
path opened up, step by step, for someone emerging.
“Who’s that again?”
“I-Ivan Petro, Petrovich… Director, sir…!”
That person sized up the captive for a moment, then cracked a wide grin.
“That rascal said he was calling it quits, yet he’s been putting together an assassin
squad behind my back?”
The tradition at St. Basilicia Orphanage of sneaking up and startling Ivan might have
seemed playful to the kids, but to someone in the business, it looked different.
Especially to ‘Shadow Blade’ Enrique, a real pro among pros in this world.
Pretending to be dead, spinning rumors of a clean break to start anew. Like a wolf in
sheep’s clothing. How could the Cleansup Unit rectify such behavior?
Enrique chuckled and nodded.
Ivan Petrovich, pegged as the head of a shady outfit that trains orphans for
assassinations!
***
“A grad student’s been snatched?”
“Yeah, sir! Remember Priscilla?”
“I never forget.”
Ivan kept tabs on the details of all 300 of his current and past students, including the
grads.
Priscilla. No last name. 17 years old. Orphan from the war.
Abandoned during the war, scavenging near the military base.
Despite her mischief, she was gutsy and talented. So, as graduation neared, Ivan
wasn’t overly worried.
Seemed like she was exploring job options these days, moving around…
“Who, where, when?”
“Not sure, but only her coat’s turned up… Could be a threat, right?”
“Most likely.”
Ivan carefully inspected the handed-over coat.
Traces on the sleeves, a crumpled collar, one loose button.
Flipping through absentmindedly, his hand suddenly halted.
A faintly imprinted handprint. Barely visible, just a smudge beneath dirt.
Beneath the dirt, a subtle cross-shaped scar etched at the base of the hand.
“Enrique.”
Those were the marks of the fiery fellows in the organization.
There wouldn’t be foolish guys kidnapping orphans for money, so it was either a
provocation, a warning, or… an invitation.
Ivan felt the need to readjust the schedule he had put off meeting, the one he least
wanted to meet.
Shadow Blade Enrique. In other words…
It’s the call from the Grand Master.
Considering the Cleansup Unit was Enrique’s brainchild.

In the heart of the Frechenkaya Central Garden, a memorial stands adorned with
statues commissioned by King Ivan the Great himself.
Among these sculptures are the “Marching Hero,” the “Goddess of Victory,” and the
“Unnamed Hero.”
After the demise of the Demon King and the end of the war, a statue in the
Frechenkaya Central Garden vanished one day.
The “Unnamed Hero” statue disappeared, and reports surfaced that a small plaque
had been discovered in its place.
[Mourning for them is my right. – Enrique.]
Prince Alexander erupted in anger, deeming it a royal insult, while Princess Elizaveta
acknowledged Enrique’s rights and refrained from reclaiming the statue.
The truth, undoubtedly, remains shrouded in mystery.
There was no reason to provoke a legendary vampire and member of the Hero Party
who, in one night, removed a statue from a garden in the heart of the capital, not far
from the royal palace.
Elizaveta exercised caution—she didn’t wish to offend Enrique while upholding the
dignity of the royal family.
“There was a saying.”
Ivan stood at a corner of the underground, contemplating the “Unnamed Hero”

statue.
After merely three hours of investigation, based on information about Enrique’s

‘dungeon’ situated in the southern Frechenkaya underground:
“Even when your names are forgotten, your glory shall endure.”
“In place of those absent here, for all absent here.”
“Elizaveta Kirillovna Krasilov.”
“Enrique Sergeyevich.”
Ivan respectfully placed his hat over his chest, paying a brief tribute.
When he first learned of the statue’s installation, he hadn’t even considered

approaching it, and by the time he stumbled upon the Central Garden, Enrique had
already taken the statue.
Upon concluding his tribute, a voice mixed with laughter resonated in the
underground.
“Do not mourn those who departed first.” (Enrique)
“I stand alongside them.” (Ivan)
“You still remember. Good, welcome, ‘little’ Ivan.” (Enrique)
Suddenly, the ground beneath the statue twisted, metallic sounds echoed, and a
passage emerged as the rock split.
The once damp and repulsive underground morphed into a splendidly decorated
antechamber corridor.
Walking through the opulent corridor adorned with silk-covered walls, Ivan
composed his thoughts.
Like most members of the hero party, Grandmaster Enrique was unconventional.
Certainly, at that moment, Enrique contemplated Ivan, sharing similar sentiments.
Like most members of the Cleansup Unit, ‘little’ Ivan was mad.
***
“It’s been seven years since we’ve seen each other face to face. How have you been,
apprentice?”
“Fairly well.”
Ivan sat in the antechamber, sipping his coffee slowly, rolling it around his mouth for
a moment — a kind of protocol, a means of preventing assassination, much like most
protocols.
“It seems it’s not poisoned.” Ivan lightly nodded and continued to savor the coffee.
“Ah, they say modern poisons can’t be detected by taste.”
“Cough…” He spat it back into the cup and placed it on the table.
“Just kidding, just kidding! Should I get a new one?”
“No need. I didn’t come here for coffee.”
“Nonetheless, you’re so rigid. You’re still a young lad.”
Enrique reclined on a lavish sofa, smiling with her eyes.
Between the slit of the silk dress, a glimpse of white legs emerged, but it wasn’t
captivating enough for Ivan’s attention. The monster before him was well over a
hundred years old.
How many elixirs and blood had she consumed?
Ivan couldn’t help but imagine a scenario where the vampire stared at him, tongue
lolling.
This was, after all, the nest of the vampires.
The Elder Vampire, Shadowblade, Fangs of Darkness. And ‘traitor’ Enrique.
A heroine who, a century ago, betrayed the Elder Vampire who had bitten her,
sucking his blood and ending the “vampire rampage” that had scattered across
Frechenkaya.
For a century after, this woman took numerous lives under the guise of
‘assassination orders.’ If the Demon King hadn’t appeared, wouldn’t the heroes have
dealt with her instead?
Ivan delicately caressed the axe handle under the table as he pondered.
“Well, you arrived faster than expected. Actually, seeing you active again makes me
happy. Well, being ‘active’ isn’t a compliment between us, is it?”
“Where’s Priscilla?”
“Ah, cut to the chase! That’s how you always are!”
Enrique chuckled and adjusted her dress, revealing an alluring figure. (Of course,
Ivan is not fazed by someone 70 years older than him. His coverage is up to 10 years
up and 10 years down.)
“So how is it, do you think I bit her?”
“No, you didn’t. If that were the case, you should have attacked me instead of inviting
me.”
Ivan gazed at her with a cold stare as he uttered those words.
“Wasn’t the most important principle you taught me about not seeking revenge?”
“Hmph, does that slimy little kid even fall within your ‘revenge’ scope too?”
“I’ve saved her.”
Ivan remembered the day he took in Priscilla. The child was an orphan scorned even
among the refugees in front of the army.
Being parentless at a young age is dreadful. It means only oneself can provide
protection. Understanding this, the child was always assertive.
In a world where too many were already despondent to help a sorrowful and gloomy
child, one must have the capacity to sympathize with oneself to sympathize with
others. The United Kingdom lacked that capacity at the time.
Thus, Ivan remembers Priscilla and a few other children. He decided to take them in
and retire to establish an orphanage; those children were no less than his own.
Naturally, when one’s child is hurt, seeking revenge becomes imperative.
“Don’t hold too much animosity. It makes you look amateurish.”
Enrique smiled and set down the teacup.
The tea, still full and untouched, lightly splashed on the table.
“Didn’t I teach you? Animosity is only for the weak. Engaging in revenge and self-
defense, it’s also the pettiness of the weak.”
“Your answer?”
“She’s alive. Unharmed. Well-fed, nicely dressed. Now it’s your turn to answer.”
Enrique slowly placed her white fingers on the table.
“What are you up to?”
“…Hm?”
“What are you scheming at your ‘orphanage’ right now?”
Enrique was earnest. She had passed it off jokingly at the idea of taking in an orphan,
saying it was because he was an orphan himself. It was pitiful. If he had come to her,
she had enough thought to take him in as family, a cute pupil.
Two years had passed that way. And suddenly, this ‘orphanage-raised orphan’ knew
astonishingly practiced ambush techniques.
Honestly, it felt like a stab in the back. Complaining about leaked skills? Well, it’s not
something impressive. Since it’s not a one-on-one competition, it’s something
teachable.
But, what’s the meaning of dispatching an agent as if to engage in a business battle in

the mentor’s same area?
She felt aggrieved. He hadn’t visited her since he’d gotten out of the military and had
his identity expunged. He’d never even asked her out for a drink, even though he was
only a nose away from her!
But, well?
“I’m protesting, sending an agent to do business in our front yard? This is a

declaration of war?”
The truth is, she politely invited that arrogant brat, not even intending to kill him,
showing intentions like, [Let’s not do that, we have a lot of memories together, do we
need to fight?]
However, the response from this stone-faced guy is like, [I’ll kill you if you touch me.]
It really hurts her feelings.
And what’s with the beard? It’s driving me crazy. Why are you doing something that
was popular a century ago? You didn’t tell me that was a disguise, did you? I didn’t
teach you that.
With countless thoughts passing through her mind, Enrique, still a legendary
vampire who lived for a century and a great member of the hero party, looked at Ivan
with a ‘cheeky smile.’
‘What does she mean? What the heck is she talking about?’
Ivan couldn’t grasp the situation.
Elizaveta uses him because he’s undercover. His past is cleanly laundered, his name
is common enough that he can’t be misunderstood when he uses it, and his
appearance has changed a lot (by his standards).
Moreover, the ‘Lieutenant Colonel Ivan Petrovich’ of the past has been officially
declared dead and laid to rest in the national cemetery.
So, according to Elizaveta, his identity and mission are classified.
Is it okay to tell Enrique this?

But wait, wasn’t there some kind of connection between Enrique and Elizaveta?
Enrique founded the Cleansup Unit, and Elizaveta was its commander, right?
Both of them struggled with insufficient information but smiled calmly, not losing
their trained agent’s patience and caution.
‘What’s this lunatic thinking, seriously.’
‘What’s this crazy person thinking?’
Thinking like that.
‘Is this betrayal, how could she do this to me?’
‘Is this betrayal? Did this woman switch sides from Elizaveta to Alexander?’
Two lunatics were once again fostering strong bonds of unity with one mind and one
heart today
It was a mid-January winter night.

Eventually, Ivan raised his hand first.
This gesture signaled his cautious approach to revealing information. His primary
concern was rescuing Priscilla, who was being held hostage. It wasn’t merely about
Priscilla’s life; Ivan lacked the confidence to defeat Enrique.
“…I heard you’re nurturing a disciple.”
“Oh?”
Enrique smirked deeply and tilted her head.
Ivan briefly tightened his grip on the axe handle, then relaxed.
That expression—when a monster’s in a bad mood.
“Go on.”
“And now, you’re planning to enroll her at St. Jan’s Academy.”
“Hmm… and?”
“‘Someone’ was worried. If by any chance there’s an injury, it could be a great loss for
the nation.”
Ivan implied several things:
– Elizaveta is concerned about your disciple and urged me to protect her.
– That’s what I’ve been doing lately. You know? Elizabeth’s nature.
– But if you don’t get this… Can I think you’re on Aleksandr’s side?
But to Enrique, Ivan’s words might sound like this:
– I’ve already identified your disciple’s identity, location, and personal details.
– I received a handsome sum.
– If there’s an injury… it’ll be regrettable, isn’t it? So please behave well.
Daring to threaten your own master!!
Who gave the orders? Alexander? Is that scoundrel trying to ditch me in the end?
No, this scoundrel as well!!
If I were tasked to kill him, I would have refused or at least given a heads up!
But this scoundrel threatened me using my disciple without any hesitation.
What kind of ungrateful wolf have I raised?
I mean, if the surviving disciples from the last war are only people like him, what on
earth…
Enrique nodded, wearing a smiling face.
“Hmmm. Understood.”
“Glad to hear that. See? It’s not as big a deal as you think.”
“Hmm… Not a big deal, you say?”
“Yeah.”
Short answers exchanged in a chilling atmosphere.
Nevertheless, Ivan felt somewhat relieved. Despite Enrique seeming a bit off, she
seemed to comprehend the current situation well.
Well, then… it’s resolved now, isn’t it?

Having warned to this extent, even if the ‘tutorial’ proceeds, Enrique’s disciple won’t
fall into significant danger. Enrique will protect her.
“Lucy.”
Priscilla’s kidnapping had been a surprise, but Ivan had gained more than he
bargained for.
Now, only three of the ‘protagonists’ remained for the tutorial, and the one with the
shortest time left had another two weeks…
“Lucia!! Lucia! Come in!!”
“Yes, Master!”
With a bright voice, someone opened and entered the reception room.
She was a late-teen woman with shiny dark brown hair.
Enrique looked at Ivan, as if testing, then smiled.
“Come, greet. He’s your senior brother.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Senior Petrovich! Master always said to follow your path.”
No, don’t praise him. This brat’s cheeky.
Enrique grinned forcibly, pressing his lips together.
“A human…?”
“Yes? Yes. Of course…?”
“Of course…? Do you know your master’s race?”
“My master is human!”
Lucia spoke confidently, chest puffed out.
“Although Master lives with a slightly unique diet, she cherishes me and protects this
country, a true hero! If you ask what race is, I’d say ‘humanity’, Senior Petrovich!”
“Oh…”
Ivan was unknowingly impressed.
After the war with demons, the United Kingdom held an extremely hostile stance
towards ‘otherkin’ and ‘ainkin’ races.
It’s natural. Most citizens walking the streets here have lost immediate relatives to
demons. (Elves are excluded. Despite being part of the United Kingdom, they are
shunned due to their detestable nature.)
Amidst this, open-mindedness that doesn’t base ‘species’ on the race itself was a
mindset seen on 21st-century Earth, not this damned Otherworld!
Enrique, hearing this fresh response (extremely ‘progressive’ by this world’s

standards), had a more relaxed expression.
“Well, see. I’ve taught everything. It might take time to acquire, but the learning part
is done. If there’s a hero party in the next era, this girl will be suitable.”
Certainly, that’s how it’ll be. Being able to roam under the sun, she’ll fit better in a
hero party.
Moreover, that statement: ‘I’ve taught everything, but acquisition will take time,’ was
giving Ivan some assurance.
‘Is she talking about a skill tree?’
In typical games, characters acquire skills automatically along with leveling up.
Quite weird, isn’t it? Suddenly something pops into your head while on an adventure
or doing something.
But this game seemed to be like that.
‘Though learned, lacks experience and mastery’ is the right term to describe this girl.
Ivan nodded.
“A proud disciple. Better than me, better than ‘us’. She’s precious to me in my later
years, so Ivan… I’ll not let you harm her.”
“Hmm…?”
So sudden?
Ivan trembled and placed his hand on the axe handle again.
Enrique alone is challenging, but in a 2 vs. 1 situation including his disciple, and with
a prisoner inside Enrique’s dungeon, how could he be sure of victory?
Ivan cautiously looked at her hand.
“I’ll ask using our memories as collateral. Stay away from this (assassin’s) world.
This is my territory.”
Enrique spoke with genuine earnestness.
Running an assassination organization in this city only requires myself. Don’t earn
money through dirty means in the city’s alleys. Wasn’t that why you retired?
Alexander is an unbelievable guy. Better align with Elizaveta’s principles if dipping

into politics.
Expressing that with great urgency.
“Ah, so it’s come to this.”
Ivan stood up, gripping the axe handle firmly.
Did Enrique, in the end, side with Alexander?
Dealing with members of a hero party was undoubtedly overtime, but it was an
unavoidable task.
“What did Alexander offer in return? People? Blood? Land?”
“…What?”
“If you’re still in a pact with the Krasilov royal family, then I’ll also use our memories
as collateral. Where do your loyalties lie?”
“Wha…?”
After staring at Ivan’s eyes for a while, Enrique, sweating coldly, opened his mouth.
“You… you joined hands with Alexander, right?”
“What are you talking about? I’ve never met that guy with a smiling face.”
“Me neither.”
“Hmm…?”
A brief silence fell.
“So, um… you gathered orphans and taught them assassination techniques?”
“Our orphanage follows a regular educational curriculum.”
“Then what about her, she was trained in the art of ambush!”
“That was the effort of the students. They trained hard in various aspects to find
employment after graduation.”
“Wasn’t it you who taught them?”
“No.”
Silence fell again for a moment.
So, it was just a teen-year-old orphan kid who was walking around?
And we just kidnapped her without reason, made him angry, and as a result,
threatened me?
Wait a minute.
“Why do you mention my disciple? Why does her name suddenly come from your
mouth?”
“Elizaveta asked me to escort you under cover of darkness because there are a lot of
‘Hero Party’ kids in this year’s freshman class. Did you not hear?”
“No! That brat! Why would she ask you? I’m alive and well! She’s treating me like I’m
trash!”
Enrique shouted, and then collapsed onto the couch.
“This is seriously driving me nuts. It’s always like this when I talk to you. Why is fate
so fair? It would’ve been nice if you had some tact. That’s the only thing lacking from
you.”
“That’s not true!”
Where did the pre-modern ghost come up with this nonsense to someone who
graduated from a 21st-century essay education?
As Inner Kim Sunwoo erupted with anger, then was subdued by Ivan, falling silent
again.
“Hey, see? This is your senior brother really is. When a person spits out words like
scraps, conversation doesn’t align. Truly.”
“Uh… um.”
Lucia, who suddenly overstated and then immediately faded in the reception room’s
atmosphere, looked bewildered.
“You two really get along well!”
“Not really.”
“What are you saying!”
With a laugh, Lucia cautiously closed the door and hurried out.
After a brief silence, Enrique, holding a cup of tea, spoke.

“Shall I bring another tea?”
“It’s fine.”
It had cooled down, but it still tasted good. Ivan, originally from a country where
they drank iced espresso, didn’t mind the temperature of the coffee.
The meeting with a prospective parent of a student at St. Jan’s Academy was a
success.
“Director!!”
Frighteningly, Priscilla rushed in and hugged tightly.
Ivan cautiously gestured and patted her shoulder before gently pulling away.
“Don’t seek employment in deserted places in the future.”
“Yes, yes! It was really, really scary!!”
“It’s okay now. Don’t worry.”
He took out a handkerchief from his embrace and wiped Priscilla’s cheek before
moving on.
From the reception room, past Enrique’s dungeon, through the underground
passage, back to the surface.
Exiting the alley and walking straight down the street.
After a long walk without any conversation, the footsteps suddenly stopped.
“Sir.”
“Yes.”
“Um, just curious, really just curious.”

Under the glimmering lamppost, Priscilla gripped her skirt and spoke.
“Will you… really leave?”
“Probably.”
After preparations are made and the new semester at St. Jan’s Academy officially
begins, he inevitably had to leave the orphanage.
As a new ‘guardian’ to protect the hero party’s children.
About three years. It wasn’t a long time for him.
But not for the orphans.
For those who had lived their entire lives as war orphans, this newly found sanctuary
couldn’t be lost.
It’s a barely created family, a hard-earned sleeping place, and ‘our home’.
The viewpoint of the orphans, who had always been abandoned, was merely two
short years, but this orphanage was their last stronghold where they didn’t want to
be cast away anymore.
Priscilla, with a voice mixed with tears, stumbled over her words.
“Please don’t go. Sir, *sob*. If you disappear, we’ll be… *sob*…”
“Um…”
Ivan took off his coat and wrapped it around Priscilla’s shoulders.
He fell silent for a moment.
He couldn’t recall comforting a child, not even a young ‘girl’! Even delving into old
Kim Sunwoo’s memories was the same. Kim Sunwoo was a monster who spent his
days writing 5,700-character hate comments while reading webtoons and web
novels.
After that, it goes without saying. Having dedicated over half of his life to military
service, Ivan couldn’t easily recall how to speak to someone in a manner other than
with an axe or a bullet.
“Don’t worry. I’ll visit often.”
“Where… where are you going?”
This much should be fine to say. She’s almost like my ‘child,’ and it’s not particularly
classified information.
Ivan replied, stuttering in Priscilla’s tears.
“Saint Jan’s Academy.”
“You’ll definitely come back, right?”
“Not anything soon, nor leaving for life.”
The efforts and attachment invested in the orphanage. The orphanage was nothing
less than a home to him. The director’s office was his only sanctuary in his heart.
He made a firm determination, tapped Priscilla’s shoulder a couple of times, and

turned away.
And…
“Saint Jan’s Academy. I’ve heard the entrance exam is difficult… It’s in November next
year…”
Basilicia Orphanage.
Currently, every inhabitant is deeply engrossed in preparing for the entrance exams
to Saint Jan’s Academy!
When I think of that hero dude Maxmillian, the first thing that pops into my head is
him ‘slicing through the sky.’
It all started with Maxmillian, always being all hyped up with this goofy look on his
face, swinging a sword.
“Whoosh.”
“Whooosh…”
“Swish—”
“Skkkeeeeaaak—!!”
All of a sudden, like he just got some brilliant idea, that goof casually sliced the sky. I
mean, literally, the sky.
With one swift move, clouds got sliced and blown away, a huge gust shook the
ground like crazy.
As I’ve said before, a hero party is basically an “assassination squad.”
You gotta hide deep in enemy territory, target the head honcho of the demon army,
and exchange time for the lives of soldiers still fighting on the front lines.
So, all that loud commotion wasn’t cool.
“Is he totally nuts?”
Enrique, looking all serious, chucked a dagger at the hero. (The hero just smiled and
easily swiped away the dagger with his bare skin.)
“So, now we’ve got someone yelling and frolicking, claiming they’re the savior of the
United Kingdom. Oh, what a grand show of heroism, ain’t it just something?”
Veolgrin spoke all cold and quickly did some magic. Then he turned around and
started sensing the approaching demons.
Meanwhile, Jill Ber, a fancy knight, swung his sword all daringly.
“Skkaaaaack—!!”
“Haha, awesome!!”
As the clouds the Hero had sliced through shattered into pieces and flew around,
causing a breeze, Jill Ber laughed like crazy while fixing his hair.
“Looks like I’ve sliced more demons today. It was good for loosening up.”
“Um… Your wrist seems so loose it might snap?”
“Oops, sorry, Patricia. Please cast a healing spell to make it firm (hard) again.”
“Your words offend me somehow…”
After watching this scene for a bit, Einar laughed, got up, and hoisted his axe.
“Stop it.”
“Don’t.”
“I really hope you don’t…”
“A man of Drovian always leaves his mark on the world.”
“What’s with all this nonsense out of the blue? Put the axe down and listen!”
Despite Enrique’s cautious words, Einar moved forward, paying no attention.
“No matter how many times you cut the sky, there’s no trace left. But by doing this,
we could always remember Ulric’s son, the great Einar, right here!”
“No, wait, hear me out—”

-Kwaaaah!!
With big dreams and his axe raised, Einar split a mountain right in front of his eyes.
After that, they spent a week running away from swarms of Wyverns and the demon
army, stirring up trouble like poking a beehive.
***
The Hero Party.
Some guy named Maximilian, apparently, said this with a grin, “I’ll tell you, Ivan, I cut
through the sky.”
“I’ve cut down way more demons.”
“Ahem, I cut the mountain! Isn’t it cooler to slice something with a shape rather than
something formless?”
“Just spouting fancy stuff doesn’t make you clever, kid.”
“Shut up.”
“Seriously, stop.”
Why he was so fixated on the sky, I don’t know. But Ivan vividly remembers that
ridiculous escape.
That day, all he probably wanted to see by cutting the night sky was to make sure
that even though the demon’s place was covered in dark clouds, the evening sun was
still shining unseen.
Man, that hero party was just a bunch of nuts, lunatics, and folks thinking they’re all
that.
Out of the bunch, the hero was the craziest and shone the brightest.
Jill Ber aimed to be outstanding and got himself titled as a Tyllesian knight.
Einar wanted to leave a legendary mark and conquered his homeland, creating
Drovian’s first unified kingdom.
As for the hero, Maximilian, he probably just wanted to make sure hope wasn’t dead.
So, Ivan doesn’t really dig the hero.
He just sorta looked up to him.
Even when the guy ditched the world and disappeared.
“Did he retire ’cause he got what he wanted, or…”
Did he stop trying to break through the dark clouds ’cause he couldn’t see the sun
anymore?
It’s been over four years since that cheerful dude vanished. People still remember
the hero, but Maximilian, the guy, was fading from memory.
Episode 11: Morning Sun (I)
Two weeks flew by in a flash. It didn’t feel like a break at all, just like the last holiday
season, Ivan thought, staring out the window at the passing scenery.
It’s the road to Tyllese. And this time, he wasn’t alone.
He was with five guys watching his every move.
– Whoa, that was some real terror happening! How on earth did you know the date,
time, and place so precisely? Nailed it!
These are agents from the Krasilov Intelligence Headquarters. That pesky junior,
Dmitri, roped him into it.
When they got back after stopping Ecdysis’s chaos, Dmitri, apologizing, grabbed his
hand and rambled on. But there was no humor in his eyes. Not at all.
A guy who’d been living quietly for four years suddenly predicting major trouble on a
national level?
Other folks might’ve said, “Impressive!” But this guy’s from the Krasilov Intelligence
Headquarters. He’s a big shot, a lieutenant colonel at the Investigation Headquarters.
So, his eyes clearly said:
– You set this up. Tell us honestly. How did you manage to set up our spy network
secretly? Can you pass on your expertise?
Without a proper explanation, there’ll need to be countless verifications and

suspicions ahead. Handling the Academy’s official procedures isn’t information
monopoly; it’s an unexplainable responsibility.
But, “Annoying.”
No need to explain. Mystery adds weight to authority. Ivan didn’t bother clarifying
the suspicion that he might have a secret international info organization.
And here they are. Five dull agents tagged along as ‘support.’
Ivan sighed. Do I really have to play babysitter now that we’ve come this far?
His sigh made the agents collectively flinch.
“Petrovich, perhaps something’s bothering you…?”
“All of you.”
At that moment, Ivan made up his mind.
Training rookies wasn’t his gig, but retiring from being his country’s agent (his
country was the Republic of Korea) with these slackers was just not happening,
right?
Why do intel agents dress alike anyway? What’s the hint there?
And why gather so obviously in such an empty place that raises suspicion for
anyone?
This is just intolerable. Of course, their real objective is probably about Ivan, but
that’s not intel work.
This can’t be overlooked.
“Listen up.”
The stern words of the orphanage director (ex-member of the Cleansup Unit, served
18 years in the military, partook in hero party operations, and even has a record of
slaying a Dragon) began!
Eighteen long hours to reach St. Mathilde, the capital of Tyless.
The agents were frozen in time.
***
“Still a no-show…”
Isabelle scanned the platform until she hopped on the train heading to Krasilov.
The higher the hopes, the deeper the letdown.
Despite constant disappointment, she approached people with hope.
Carefully, just in case that person hid among them.
– Chiiiiik—!
Even when the train released a long puff of steam, the person she waited for never
showed up.
“Miss, don’t worry. He always thinks about you…”
“Thinks? Well, maybe he does.”
Isabelle replied coldly and turned away, ignoring the touch on her shoulder.
Her dapper knight, appointed as her bodyguard by the Tyllessian royal family,
awkwardly stepped back with a smile.
Idiot. Jerk. Useless!

A pathetic knight, unable to handle even a single insult, trying to laugh it off as if it’s
no big deal.
For her, most people are just animals. Not biologically, but in the sense that they’re
just beasts.
“Father.”
As the memories of the hero, Maximilian, faded, she mostly stayed in the palace with
her mother during his time on the battlefield.
As the hero’s fame rose, people’s faces grew simpler.
All she saw were friendly smiles trying to win favor with the future protagonist.
Naturally. If they believed the hero could quickly defeat the Demon King.
Once the Demon King was gone, all policies would revolve around the hero.
Individual strength might not overpower a group, but with immense strength and
achievements, the country naturally bends to that individual’s will.
So, the Tyllessian royal family worked hard to win her favor. Unable to reach the hero
directly, impressing her became the only way.
Despite all the derogatory remarks and insults, he just kept smiling.
With everyone wearing the same fake smiles, like at a ball, it wouldn’t be great for
the kid’s emotional growth.
“Get lost. I don’t want to see you.”
“But Miss, I…”
“Shut up.”
The knight hesitated at Isbelle’s words, gave a gentle nod, and left the cabin.
Alone at last, Isabelle let out a bitter chuckle.
“Jerk!”
Just as she was about to close the door, she glanced back.
She caught a twisted expression on the knight’s face, almost like a demon.
Isabelle, the hero’s kid, had an acute sense, way more perceptive than others. She
could notice the tiniest shifts in someone’s expression immediately.
That’s why she learned early on that everyone around her felt uneasy.
Hence.
“Such a jerk…”
She laughed at herself and sank into her seat.
A stubborn child with no expression other than anger and sarcasm.
Someone who finds solace only when others are angry, a self-destructive mess.
A severe lack of genuine affection believing that only others’ hatred is sincere.
Endlessly waiting for a father who’s now just a memory, and at the same time,
resenting. Suffering from separation anxiety.
That was her self-diagnosis.
***
“I guess it’s time to hit the road, Petrovich.”
“We’re about to leave, Captain Petrovich.”
“Still sticking with ‘we,’ huh? Trying to show off that we’re all together somewhere?”
“Well…”
“I always said, be clear with expressions, firm with actions, and keep your intentions
well hidden.”
“Well…”
The agents were silently screaming inside.
‘Lieutenant Dmitri!! This guy’s so intense!!’
‘You’re a nightmare, Petrovich!!’
‘I’m never forgiving you, Ivan… ’
As the never-ending 18-hour lecture and the looming threat of extra specialized
training approached, the exhausted agents exchanged brief farewells and left.
Their task was to protect Oscar, Knight Jill Ber’s son, from potential danger.
Ivan, who was sort of reluctantly guiding them for the job while wanting to shake off
those shackles Dmitri put on him, watched Isabelle board the train at the station and
thought:
“Lucky.”
Getting rid of the intel agents and safeguarding Oscar was like killing two birds with
one stone.
Ivan hopped onto the train with the feeling of tossing away two big burdens.
The fast train running from St. Mathilde in Tyllese to Frechenkaya in Krasilov goes
through four military zones.
First, it passes by Tyllese’s 3rd Guard Division, crossing the northwest border line.
Then, it goes past the Krasilov Border Defense Division and the Frechenkaya Defense
Headquarters.
This train is near the front lines with demons, so there’s a super strict force there.
Using the erasure method, only three stations on the line could be attacked. Out of
the 30 stations it passes, only three are a day away, without much backup, not many
people, and tough land.
‘One.’
The train Ivan and Isabellele rode went by the first ambush point.
No intruders on the tracks or bad guys using spells or shooting cannons from
horseback.
‘Two.’
At the second ambush point, the train zoomed past.
Ivan looked out the window, sighed, and sat down.
After a few hours, silently, the train reached the third ambush point.
‘What the…?’
The train crossed the Krasilov border line. If it kept going straight, it’d reach
Frechenkaya in a day.
After the plains and just one mountain, it’d be Frechenkaya. There’s a big military
presence nearby, but there’s a forest to get through.
So, trying to cause chaos might not work now. Ivan nervously touched his pistol.
‘Was the prediction wrong?’
Wasn’t the tutorial all about train chaos?
Was Ecdysis just super unlucky? Or in the ‘original’ game, did tutorials differ for each
character?
They thought each would have their own story, but the original plan doesn’t allow
that. It’s an academy movie. That’s because it’s ‘Academy stuff.’
Maybe not, but it had to be that way.
Ivan bit his lip. What if I’m wrong again?
If this isn’t even ‘Academy stuff,’ does this world even have an end?
Should I commit suicide? Is there an answer other than suicide? Since I can’t predict
the genre, I can’t even determine the ending.
He fears the worst—what if the ending’s only for the main character? Like, in the last
war, this world was a classic hero’s kingdom RPG. If the Hero’s vanishing means the
story’s wrapped up, what’s next?
Ivan’s in a mental mess, thinking, “I hate it here. I just wanna bail. I wanna crash in a
cozy place, wrap myself in blankets, and forget about everything.”
“I wanna chill. I wanna drop everything and split. I wanna crash for a week, wrapped
up in a cozy comforter on a comfy bed at a snug home with a heater giving off
warmth.”
“I wanted to eat all I fancy until I can’t anymore, talk with folks in Korean, dive into
games, books, movies, shows, and fun.”
Death, poverty, famine, and fear were everywhere.

Yet, in this cursed pre-modern fantasy world, where the ideas of ‘welfare’ and
‘leisure’ were scarce, I don’t wanna go on living.
“Sob… gasp…!”
A man next to him gasped faintly with a choked groan.
An intense vitality spread from Ivan’s body like venom spreading, yet Kim Sunwoo,
or rather, was oblivious to his current state.
Sharper and more intense, strong enough to harm people physically.
As Kim Sunwoo’s panic grew.
The train, moving through a tunnel under the mountain, shook on the bridge over
the valley. It was an explosion.
-Kaaaaaah!!!
-Kii-ii-iin-!!!
-Kugugugugung-!!
Not only breaking the tracks but bringing down the entire bridge, the train fell
without power. The carriage twisted, taking the momentum and spinning out of
control.
As his body floats and everything around him turns upside down, Ivan instinctively
grabs the train’s racks for balance, his eyes scanning his surroundings on autopilot.
In the twisting space and the sliding view out the window, he knows precisely what’s
happening.
The train is crashing.
There’s been a train bombing.
The tutorial isn’t done.
I wasn’t mistaken.
I was right.
There’s still an ending.
Inside the falling train car, a smile spread on Ivan’s parched face. Slowly. And deeply.
Forcing the still-panicky, useless Kim Sunwoo down to the bottom of his
consciousness, because now it was time to deal with what needed to be done.
Fear, hatred, and confusion aren’t helpful for the mission. They say to keep your head
cool and your heart warm, but they’re wrong.
In the Cleansup Unit, they teach differently. Keep your head, heart, and fingertips all
cool.
Like the harsh winter of Krasilov. Like that long night. Cold, silent, and precise.
The Cleansup Unit officer vanished quietly, amid the chaos within the train.
Step on the railing, step on the shelf, push away the tangled piles, up, up, up.
***
Isabelle’s last memory was a jumble of fragmented words.
Thrown-out body, wildly shaking vision, overwhelming agony.
Shattered windows and pouring earth.
And then, one more.
“Boom!”
Isabelle woke up sweating. The surroundings were cloaked in darkness. A moment

when she caught a glimpse of the coniferous forest of Kraschenrov passing by in the
evening glow.
She rose in excruciating pain.
The room was buried in dirt. As her eyes adjusted to the growing darkness, she
recognized the heap of earth pouring through the broken window.
And the dripping sound of droplets.
Rough, labored breathing. Feeble sounds.
“Are you… are you… are you awake, miss?”
“Augustus…?”
A man stood in front of her.
No. Stuck.
One arm buried in the dirt, a long piece of rebar sticking out from his side.
The dripping sounds came from his mouth, nose, and the blood dripping from his
waist.
“Why…?”
He threw himself to protect her, shielding her from falling rocks with his body and
catching the train debris with his back.
In awe, she looked at the knight. The knight, as always, was smiling kindly.
“Miss, you must… flee… Floods will come. They’re targeting you…”
“Stop it! Answer me! Why…? Why did you do such a thing? Are you really insane?”
Isabelle glared at the trembling knight.
“Do you think my father would be furious if I died? No! He doesn’t care about
anyone!”
“I know.”
The knight weakly smiled. Who doesn’t know that in Tyllese, a man who isolated
himself in the deep mountains, abandoned all contact, and rejected anyone’s
approach.
Initially, people thought he left to heal the wounds after killing the Demon King.
Later, they started muttering that his heart as a hero had twisted because of the
Demon King.
Before four years had passed, they began to forget the hero.
Since the moment he killed the Demon King, or maybe even before that. Because a
hero isn’t an individual.
Maximilian crumbled under the name of the hero. Now, only his deeds and legends
echo emptily.
“You hate me.”
“Correct.”
“But why…?”
“Because you are the daughter of a hero.”
Despite the man’s fading life, his eyes shone oddly bright.
Isabelle smiled as if she found this situation ridiculous.
“So what does it matter,” she said, “do you really think my father cares one iota for
his ‘daughter’?”
“No, Miss. I have never thought of Maximilien’s interest.”
But, being the daughter of a hero.
“Because one individual could inspire hope in the hearts of all humanity, because we
spent those days together, and because… even such a great man fades away with
time, he’s still human who leaves a descendant.”
Maximilian is also a human.
This proposition might be universally agreed upon, but truly understood by no one.
However, Isabelle is different. She is a daughter. Angry, envious, sad. A young girl
plagued by a lack of affection.
So, Isabelle’s existence signifies that ultimately, a hero is also, in the end, human.
Conversely, as a human, above being human, it implies the potential to become a

hero.
He believed so. Even if Isabelle hated the concept of a hero, she could not but affirm
Isabelle’s existence. She was hope.
The last seed left by the hero, its sprouting symbolizes hope. In this era where the
remnants of the past war rebuild shattered foundations.
Hope that can bloom even in this decrepit era.
Not the hope of the conscripts fighting the Demon King, but the hope for individuals
living day by day.
If the hero was hailed as a symbol of victory, then the hero’s descendants symbolize
reconstruction. They embody the dawn of a new era.
Therefore, while despising Isabelle, he sacrificed himself.
He was a knight of Tyllese. A man capable of abandoning the individual for the
greater good. He was also a commoner who didn’t yearn for the reconstruction of
humanity.
“Excellent.”
As his words ended, a thud. From the heap of dirt pouring in through the window, an
arm jutted out.
The arm fumbled within the dirt, then smoothly slid out.
The cold air of a late winter night cooled the room.
The gap allowed the azure moonlight to seep in.
“Sir, what’s your name?”

“Dian August. And you?”
“Ivan Petrovich.”
As the dirt collapsed, a man entered the room.
Bathing in moonlight, casting a long shadow.
“Do you want to live?”
“If possible.”
“It will hurt.”
Ivan unscrewed the cap of a healing potion.
Author’s Note (Afterword):
Note: The deeper the wound, the more painful the healing potion is.
Late… sorry… for the delay…

Sir Diane August was like a total champ, dealing with the crazy pain from spilling all
his dirty secrets, showing his willpower made of steel.
Isabelle decided to stick that memory in her head. What really mattered wasn’t how
Sir August screamed her name or how he went all berserk, grabbing this guy named
Ivan and trying to spill all the Knights’ accounting records.
Seeing that scene was tough for Isabelle, so she didn’t hold back and slapped Sir
Diane August’s face right away.
It wasn’t until Ivan schooled her on the dangers of smacking a guy in the head while
he’s coughing blood that Sir August managed to talk like a normal human being.
“Mama?”
“Yeah.”
After checking out the well-stitched wound, Ivan gave a straight-up diagnosis.
“Shock made him regress. Isabelle, you messed up by hitting him. Think about it.”
“Sir Diane August wouldn’t blame me, right? Can he get back to normal?”
“Don’t stress. It’s a common thing; he’ll snap out of it as time goes by.”
Ivan looked outside for a sec before dropping this bomb.
“But yelling too much probably attracted attention. It’s time for those lurking on the
mountain to come down. We gotta get ready.”
“What about Sir Diane August?”
“We gotta carry him.”

Ivan silently peeped at Isabelle. Isabelle did the same.
After a moment of silence, feeling puzzled by Ivan’s face, Isabelle asked, looking
confused.
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“What about you?”
“I gotta fight.”
“I can fight too!”
Ivan glanced down at Isabelle, shaking his head. Sure, she might have been standout
among her buddies, but her vibe wasn’t all that convincing.
Just witnessing that scene made her go pale, and her hand holding the knife kept on
shaking.
“I reckon your words and your moves ain’t quite adding up, huh?”
“…”
Ivan gave a wry smile and turned around. Isabelle, left on her own, sighed heavily
and hoisted Diane onto her back.
Man, that’s heavy.
It’s not like she’s so feeble she can’t handle a full-grown guy’s weight; the weights
she trained with were heavier than Diane.
But the heaviness of this injured and weakened man was seriously weighing her
down.
As she adjusted Diane and walked out, Ivan, standing under the moon, suddenly
looked her way.
“Not bad for a girl.”

“Kinda rude, sir. Hey, have we met before? Why are you talking like you know me?”
“Seems like you take after your mom in temperament.”
“Wow, you’re really pushing me to draw a sword. So, which side are you like, the
mom’s or the dad’s?!”
“Well, I can’t even remember their faces now.”
“Is that…! Is that so…? Um…”
Despite his odd, young-looking eyes and skin, she squinted at the thick beard
covering Ivan’s whole jawline.
It’s only been four years since the war ended.
And that war lasted nearly twenty years.
Naturally, for folks in that age group, losing parents during the war was pretty
common…
She felt kind of wronged. Isn’t it rude to bring up parents? Is this how folks greet in
Krasilov? (This parental thing is part of a polite greeting in Drovian, not Krasilov).
After grumbling for a bit, she finally got what Ivan was getting at and was surprised.
“Do you know my father?”
“Sort of.”
Seeing the sudden change in the girl’s expression, Ivan had a little chuckle inside.
Who doesn’t know Maximilian, really?
He shrugged and said, “Round up the survivors. Let’s light a fire and tear up train
seats for blankets. Nights here get colder than you’d imagine.”
“Wouldn’t lighting a fire attract attacks?”
“That’s not your concern.”

“Are you heading out alone, not even knowing who the enemy is?”
“That’s not your concern either.”
Meeting Maximilian’s daughter for the first time, Ivan felt a somewhat unexpected
emotion.
While she had inherited her father’s looks and skills, her personality was totally
different.
Maximilian used to boast about his ‘sweetheart from back home’ at night, saying she
was kind and considerate. She seems to take after her mother.
Love is so tricky. It blinds people to flaws and weaknesses. Ivan chuckled and left.
***
In the tactical doctrines Ivan studied, there’s a saying:
“Expect the worst and act for the best.”
It seemed like a silly statement to Ivan back then. It only made sense when he
rethought it through real experiences.
The core truth was this.
“Expect the worst. That means, the enemy always tries the hardest way to hit you.”
“Act for the best. If your enemy is the worst for you, become the worst for them.”
So, mirror the enemy’s moves. Your worst hit would be the best offense against
them.
Therefore, Ivan’s task was clear.
First, think of the worst case.
“Getting ambushed during an escape after surviving would be the worst. It would be
worse in a drawn-out battle.”
Attacks in the dark night wear you out. Ivan might handle it, but for the injured and
the girl, it’d be deadly.
So, expect the worst. The enemy must expect an escape attempt and act accordingly.
Logically, in case of a train derailment from an attack, one should leave and find
support.
Now, for the response.
“Appear like you’re stalling, keeping the enemy’s aim clearly visible. Look weak.”
This would make the unknown enemy pull back their tracking forces and switch
from chasing to surrounding.
This world isn’t a strategy game, it’s the real deal.
Orders don’t mean immediate actions.
This means there’s a delay between spotting the pursuer and gaining a tactical edge.
From an attacker’s view, siege includes mental games. They’d see themselves as a cat
eyeing its prey, picking the perfect moment to strike.
To ensure the target can’t escape, planning to deliver a crushing blow at the right
moment.
That’s the deal. That’s the “worst attack” your enemy can think of.
So, mimic. Turn their best into their worst. Prepare a surprise, refine the offense
carefully, and set the trap.
“Sigh…”
In the deep, dark shadows of the forest, gripping a cold gun.
Ivan took a quiet breath, then let it out slowly.
Hunkered down under a tree, he held his breath, slowly raising his hand. Carefully
aligning the shoulder and fingertips, trying to steady his hand tremors caused by his
body’s rhythm.
Click.
With the momentum of three breaths, he squeezed the trigger from his index finger
trapped in the guard.
– Bang!
It was pistol marksmanship, a technique for long-range shots, perfect for the
Cleansup Unit to strike while hiding their rifles in enemy territory.
In the moonlight, a tiny silhouette crumpled.
No rush to reload. The first shot hit, and soon the forest felt uneasy. The enemy was
alerted.
The ambush had started.
And they would soon realize.
The Cleansup Unit’s attack had kicked off.
In the dark night and deep forest, familiar ground and the right weapon in hand.
In a Cleansup Unit ambush, an individual could surround a group.
***
“Bang!”
When the gunfire echoed in the distance, Isabelle hid her trembling hands and
geared up for the enemy’s attack.
It was the clear signal for the fight to begin. Birds scattered in a panic.
Those around her, shivering by the campfire, stared, fear written all over their faces.
“Are we all gonna die now?”

“So scary… I’m scared… Mom… Mommy…”
The sounds of survivors, each with minor injuries at least, surrounded her.
Amid confusion, burden, and guilt, Isabelle strained to lower her head. They were
victims because of her. The weight of just ten surviving from the huge train was
heavy on her shoulders.
Then, a faint voice came from behind her.
“The reason we call someone a hero isn’t because they’re the strongest, but because
they’re the bravest.”
“Augustus? Are you back to your senses?”
Augustus, supporting her from behind, spoke with a slightly blurry voice.
“So, we mustn’t become heroes. We shouldn’t even try. We must acknowledge our
own weakness.”
“Augustus?”
“We need to stand in the shoes of the weak, seeing others like us. We don’t wield the
sword because we’re brave, strong, or better than others.”
Augustus’s voice was still unclear.
But strangely, each word felt precise and etched in her heart.
“We wield the sword because it’s right. Just. For the justice we must uphold. So, it’s
not about being a hero, it’s just.”
“Augustus?”
“So, wield the sword. Don’t try to be a hero. Knight of Tylesse. Stand here with
humility, not valor.”
Now she understood Diane’s message.
This is an ancient, traditional chivalry lesson.

Not knighthood as a ‘title’ from a king to his vassal.
It’s the final lesson given by knights, like a group of travelers, to their squire.
Diane Augustus came from a traditional order of knights, and even now, those words
remained vivid in his mind.
“For justice, wield the sword. Doing good is always small and just. Wield the sword
for your justice, not your strength. Now, you’re a knight.”
Diane didn’t say more after those words. Just weakened breaths.
Isabelle knew about Diane’s history, his service as a seasoned knight in the war
against the Demon Army.
Now she understood why those terse, precise words remained so clear. She felt this
moment would stick with her forever.
She got up and finally raised her head to look around.
Many people looked at her, suffering in the cold, fear, pain, and hunger.
Guilt was still there, but she was determined nonetheless.
“I will.”
Carefully placing down Diane, Isabelle stood tall before them.
The sword in her hand felt heavier, but the once-shaking hand now held it steady.
Her eyes blazed with determination.

– Boom!
– Clang!!
You can feel those enemies scattering as you hear those bursts now and then.
It ain’t just ’cause they ain’t trained well. It’s more like a sure thing, especially among
top-notch forces.
When ambushed, a good officer figures out the enemy’s numbers by how often they
attack.
By checking the gaps between gunshots, it’s pretty clear the enemy’s only a small
group.
All that makes sense up to this point. But the issue is, those gunshots ain’t coming
from just one direction in this forest.
Bang from the east. Shift the troops over there and suddenly, there are only a few
scattered bodies in that spot.
When the troops scatter in the confusion, bam, again from the west.
By now, it’s clear what the commanding officer’s up to. “They’re sending out a few
troops to push us in.”
A smart assessment, unless the opponent is just a small unit’s commander.
*Click.*
Feeling the tension and rage in the forest air, slowly raising the pistol. Up ahead,
three soldiers with torches scanning around.
It’s a gesture that could be fear or anger, can’t tell from this far.
Ivan breathed out slowly, half-held his breath, firmly squeezed the trigger, aimed at
the enemy, calculated the distance, raised it a few notches up.
Smooth like water, almost like an ‘instinctive’ move.
All that took just 0.3 seconds.
His wide, bright blue eyes rapidly scanned the surroundings. Gaps between the
soldiers, their heights, and the distance from him were all calculated.
After calculating, he focused on the one farthest away.
Bang!
At the gunshot, the gun drops, and he grabs the axe. No need to confirm the kills,
they’re telling you themselves.
“Damn! Inoff got hit!”
“Where are they? Show yourself, damn it!!”
Swiftly leaping over the trees, the torches they’re holding make it easy to spot them.
Starting a fire in the woods is too revealing. Even without those torches, the forest
would be too dark to see anything, but whose fault is that?
They shouldn’t have picked this day.
Ambushing at night is seriously hard. It needs a top-notch commander and perfectly

trained troops.
Even those types would hesitate in a surprise ambush in a foreign forest at night.
Maybe about one-third would bail after the operation started.
“Looks like the enemy’s got about 50 in total.”
Judging from how the enemy’s spread out and the units’ size, Ivan guessed while
gripping the axe, still embedded from the soldier he hit.
– Kaaah—!!*
“Ah! Ahhh!!”
Scared guy. But the one hit by the axe didn’t even get to scream.
Seems like he had good training. Raising the gun as soon as Ivan showed up proves
that.
Ivan bent down, the guy’s trembling finger creeping on the trigger.
No need to aim at this range, and the man’s too rattled for it. He’s about to shoot in a
panic.
But that ain’t gonna happen.
“Damn it! Die!!”
The guy tensed his thigh, veins popping on his palm.
But in that moment, Ivan, already so close, swung the axe.
Right shoulder and neck shattered in a single blow. Literally ‘shattered.’
A forceful strike, quickly turning for another blow, and another.
Three axe hits in a blink. No one here could talk anymore.
“Phew.”
Ivan relaxed his shoulders, pushed the axe back in.
He aimed the gun held by the nameless soldier to the sky, hung a thin thread on the
trigger, and hooked it on a nearby tree.
If the gun’s snug in the dead guy’s arms and fixed, the job here’s done.
Someone will come to check upon hearing the shots.
When they touch the body, the loaded gun will fire, and the command will likely
screw up Ivan’s position in the chaos.
The delay in getting info to command, the limited sight in this dark forest, the fear of
this strange place, the messed-up info, and our own forces slowly dwindling.
Even the smart enemies are easy to fool.
Ivan thought while quickly moving through the trees.
So, something’s off.
The enemy’s way too good for this to be some kind of tutorial round.
“Diane August was an NPC assisting Isabelle’s tutorial and then disappearing.”
Ivan squinted.
In this mess, if it wasn’t him, could Isabelle alone survive and escape this forest?
Considering their strong weapons, well-trained troops, and a good command on the
enemy’s side.
That’s a level of risk a kid just turning twenty couldn’t handle.
“Why…? Isn’t wiping out the enemy a tutorial condition?”
Sometimes it is. A game where you learn the controls while dodging a powerful
enemy.
But how? And where?
Thinking about the remaining way to Frechenkaya, the chances of an inexperienced

kid, not even knowing where to go, getting out of the forest safe would be close to
0%.
Even in all this chaos, Ivan kept moving.
No harm in thinking about the situation once the chaos ends.
—
“Captain, it happened again. This time, all three were axed.”
“Hmm. What’s this…”
The man scratched his chin and grunted.
Feels like dealing with a tiger.
In a methodical way, starting with the weak, squeezing the group’s neck is the
hunting strategy.
The response was simple: group the troops.
But, he can’t do that. His target was the ‘Hero’s Daughter’.
“Shouldn’t we gather the boys now…?”
“Nah. That’s exactly what the enemy wants.”
The enemy’s a minority. It’s obvious.
They wouldn’t go through all this trouble if they were more than us.
Let’s suppose an elite, highly specialized, small strike force is scattered throughout
the forest.
– Bang!
Gunshots again. This time from the west.
And then.
– Bang!
This time from up north.
The shots were getting closer to where they were.
“They know our position already.”

“They do?”
“They know this is our base! You fool! Can’t you see?”
“Oh, right. Yeah, I see, I see, but… why don’t they attack us directly after hitting the
base? Wouldn’t it be easier to pick off the confused troops one by one?”
Why are these enemies making it so complicated?
That’s because…
– Bang!
– Bang!
After two gunshots from different directions, a realization hit the man.
“Give me your gun.”
“Huh? Oh, okay!”
He grabbed the man’s gun and fired into the air. Bang!
The man froze for a moment and then spoke out.
“It’s just one person.”
“But Captain, the direction of the shots…!”
“Damn it, it’s a trickery!!”
– Clatter!
The man slammed the gun in his hand.
“That was our gunfire! That guy killed our guys and played with the timing! It’s a
simple trap even a kid could pull off, and we fell for it!”
He threw the remains of the gun and drew a knife.

“After the first shot, that guy probably watched our response. Did he have a way to
see where we’d come from?! We reacted too fast. Damn it!”
Regular soldiers usually seek cover when they hear gunfire.
But this wasn’t a regular spot. Their captain had a way to spot gunfire.
As soon as they heard the shots, they estimated the direction and sent a team. That
was the mistake.
“Why not just attack us head-on?! Are they not confident or stalling for time in a
tough spot? Why would someone trained like that entertain such thoughts, huh?”
“Uh, maybe… they’re alone…?”
“Yeah! Damn it. The gunshots were a lure from the start! Gather the crew! Damn it, I
didn’t want to face the Hero’s Daughter directly…”
The scars on the man’s face twisted.
“The Hero’s Daughter: Even if she’s only a partially trained warrior, a tiger’s cub
remains a tiger.”
He remembers the hero. That unbelievably powerful figure.
No matter how young, never underestimate. The Hero was just a lad in his thirties
back then.
The man sighed and stepped forward.
“I’ll face that woman myself. Get the boys and handle the nuisance in the forest.”
“Yes, Captain!”
***
“Are you the Hero’s Daughter?”
Isabelle stood under the moon, facing a man emerging from the woods.
Behind her, people gathered in fear.
Around a campfire, people shivered in the cold, looking at her.
Isabelle shook her head, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, turned the heavy
sheathed sword, and held it firmly.
“No.”
She opened her eyes. Moonlight made the man’s silhouette clearer.
Fighting for one’s life, let alone carrying another life into battle, was a first.
But it was fine. It was ‘just’ the right thing to do.
“Maximilian and Marie’s daughter.”
Not the Hero’s daughter, but someone’s daughter.
With that meaning.
The man before her laughed heartily.
The horns above his head reached for the sky.
A demon. Isabelle swallowed hard. It was her first time facing a demon too.
“Great.”
The man nodded and gripped the sword.
“I’m Icarus. Former commander of the 6th Imperial Guards. Leader of this
operation.”
“I’m Isabelle, affiliated with Tylesse. A knight.”
The night wind howled. The forest shook. Bang, gunshots echoed far off.
The two charged towards each other.

The tutorial is too difficult.
As soon as he thought of those words, a shiver ran down his spine. But Ivan ignored
Kim Sunwoo’s reaction and continued his thoughts.
This is too hard. Even imagining Kim Sunwoo’s era objectively and trying to envision
the game’s progression, it’s difficult.
Ivan, like, leaned against a tree, took a breath, and sighed.
If only we had someone decent, you know? If someone like Dimitri was on our squad,
we wouldn’t be struggling like this.
Taking down two soldiers at one end, setting traps, then sprinting to the other end
and making gun noises deliberately.
Doing this stuff for over 30 minutes? Even for Ivan, a tough guy, it’s seriously
exhausting.
With only one gunshot allowed per fight, it made things way harder. And it left a
mark on Ivan’s arm, man.
Ivan pulled out the last health potion but hesitated.
Hmm… I can handle this, let’s save it for later.
Taking a breather, Ivan sat under a tree, trying to make sense of things. Let’s just say
this is the tutorial right after picking ‘Isabelle’ as the character.
I’m past the character selection. The loading screen’s showing me a bunch of ‘screw
that’ world-building, and the loading bar’s almost done.
If it were a big-budget game, we’d have a cutscene here. Luckily, there’s something
fitting.
Train terror scene. Total academy cliche.
So, the train terror happens, and she wakes up in a dirt heap. An NPC’s hurt instead
of her.
But here’s the snag.
‘How did she get out?’
The issue starts with escaping from the buried train car. Let’s say there’s a puzzle
inside that needs solving to break free.
And then, out of nowhere, elite soldiers show up?
Without explaining how to fight? And the tutorial boss… even has line-of-sight
detection…
Considering Ecdysis’s scenario, it’s even weirder. Her tutorial was so easy, it could be
done one-handed.
So, was this not a fight event but an escape event?
Or maybe a ‘get beaten’ event. Loads of games have that: you get caught and then
escape.
‘Nah. These guys wanted to kill Isabelle.’
The armed forces weren’t looking to catch her; they were definitely up for murder.
So, getting caught isn’t on the cards. Usually, after losing, an ally comes to the rescue.
Rescue…?
Helpers…?
‘Me…?’
Ivan’s face went cold. His heart raced. Wait, was I the helper?
So, was I just an NPC?
Ivan pushed down the drumming in his chest. Keeping emotions in check was
something he knew well. He coolly started counting on his fingers.
Would there even be a ‘Ivan Petrovich’ character in the original game?
Serving in the military, doing stuff for 18 years, fighting secret societies, and even
setting up an orphanage after retiring. Were all these things already ‘set,’ no matter
what he wanted? Were they just written into the story?
If so, what was the original ‘Ivan Petrovich’s’ destiny? Would he make it to the end?
Would anyone even see his face in the final scene?”
Pushing away all those negative thoughts, Ivan stashed the healing potion in his bag.
There’s only one way to figure this out.
Why did this whole thing suddenly get so crazy hard? Was it a setup where you’d
bite the dust without some backup?
He quickly climbed up a tree and made his way towards the train.
***
-Clang! Kaga-kak!
Sparks were flying as blades clashed. She couldn’t overpower with strength and
struggled to gain the upper hand with skill.
Isabelle held onto the blade tight, giving it a twist.
It was like some picture-perfect sword move from a manual. Her strike flawlessly
deflected the enemy’s sword without missing a beat.
It was Isabelle’s finest moment. She couldn’t imagine making a more beautiful attack
than that.
“Sometimes there are dudes like that.”

Icarus deflected Isabelle’s sword and chuckled.
“Oh, absolutely. I mean, what’s more effective than nerds twirling sticks, thinking
that’ll magically make them combat ninjas? Good!”
“Shut… up!”
“You’re wrong. Tylesse’s knight.”
-Clang! Keng!
They kept blocking attacks. But every defense she made caused a bit more damage.
She didn’t have any visible wounds yet, but she could feel it. She was slowly getting
cornered.
The balance between attacking and defending was a mess. She couldn’t budge, just
steadily retreating.
And behind her were the civilians she had to protect.
She couldn’t step back any further. It was a stalemate, a real problem. Isabelle
clenched her teeth and swung her sword.
-Clang!
“Doesn’t a blade actually need to hit for a slice to count? Sword skills are just a way
to poke the other guy, right in the gut!”
-Clang!
“Imagine a hero’s kid who hasn’t seen a real fight at this age! I’m sick of the Union’s
laziness.”
“Shut up!”
-Clang! Keng! Clang!
The fury in her swings started losing its finesse in technique.

Ivan was just swinging about, driven by anger.
But for Icarus, his experience was way too much to be beaten by such wild attacks.
-Clang, Keng!
He entangled her blade and flicked his wrist, making Isabelle’s sword bounce off the
ground.
He could’ve ended it quicker, honestly. But the idea of ‘a hero’s kid’ kept him
cautious.
Heroes like Maximilian always pulled off miracles at the last minute.
“But it’s done now,” Icarus sneered. He lost his soldiers for nothing.
“You couldn’t protect anyone. Maximilian’s daughter, Isabelle. Any final words?”
Isabelle bit her lip, gazing at her fallen sword. It was brave facing death, but she
needed to focus on her opponent, not play the martyr. Icarus mocked her and raised
his sword.
***
Ivan watched the scene from the tree.
He wasn’t planning to swoop in to save her. He needed to be sure.
If Isabelle bites it here, it means his guess was off.
Sure, in some games, you hit a game over by getting wiped by the tutorial boss. But
this wasn’t that. The opponent was too tough to take down with her current skills.
If he dashes in to rescue Isabelle now, well…
He couldn’t ignore it any longer. It’s confirmed: ‘Ivan Petrovich’ is just an NPC in this
game.
So, even if Isabelle kicks the bucket, he won’t step in.

After all, there are still five player characters left. Losing one to gather intel seems
like a decent trade.
Lost in his thoughts, Ivan peered down at Isabelle from afar.
***
“You couldn’t protect anyone. Maximilian’s daughter, Isabelle. Any last words?”
Time felt like it was crawling for Isabelle. Like a lantern flickering at the brink of
death.
The menacing blade, the demon’s face filled with rage and mockery, the eerie
moonlight, her ragged breath.
Her sword lay fallen on the ground, a symbol of her effort and wasted time.
“Pick up the sword.”
A voice echoed. The old knight’s ritual, Diane August’s, muttered as he faded into
unconsciousness.
Consciousness dimmed a bit more. Vague imagination surfaced.
[Among the gathered people, one person knelt.
Stand as the weak and see us with their eyes.
We raise the sword not for our bravery, strength, or superiority.
We do it simply because it’s right. For the righteousness that we must uphold.
A solemn declaration echoed. The knights in the hall raised their swords together.
The old man at the front placed the blade down and slowly lowered it.
Carefully, like a ceremony. Placing the blade over the kneeling person’s head.
Raise the sword because it’s right.

For your righteousness, not your strength.
Two gentle taps on each shoulder.
Now, you’re a knight.
See us with the eyes of the weak.]
Isabelle snapped back to reality amid the silence, her breath even halted.
The demon’s blade was descending toward her head, slowly. But her body felt
heavier and slower than that.
And behind her, she heard moans, screams, and the sounds of panic and shock.
[Stand in the position of the weak and look at us with the eyes of the weak.
Raise the sword not for your strength, but for your righteousness.]
The voice just kept on echoing.
“Yeah, I’ll do it.” Isabelle reached for the fallen sword as if something compelled her.
She grabbed the hilt.
Her body felt light, like it had never been that way before.
Her muscles flexed and then tensed up.
As Icarus’s blade finally dropped just above her head, Isabelle was ready.
Swish—!
Everything went quiet. Dead silent, not even the wind dared disturb her at that
moment.
The clouds cleared, and the moonlight shone bright again.
The survivors behind her stared, forgetting to even breathe.
Right above Isabelle’s crouched head, the blade stood frozen.

And sticking mercilessly in the demon’s hefty back, the sword jutted out like a twig.
“H-How…?”
Icarus was baffled. He glared at Isabelle with empty eyes.
She didn’t show any expression. Her head was down. But at that moment, she was
fully aware. This little girl. No.
This knight just took her first step.
Icarus sighed in disbelief. First the hero, now his daughter’s making holes in him.
He coughed up blood and staggered back.
With a clang, the sword slipped from his hand. He stumbled and dropped to his
knees.
“Whew…”
Isabelle, too, breathed out deeply, kneeling with the blade stuck in the ground. Worn
out. Completely.
But she saved them. Everyone behind her.
Ultimately, she saved all the survivors.
“Good job.”
In a hushed tone, she lifted her head. In the distance, a limping man was making his
way over.
His face was unreadable under his bushy beard, but his bright blue eyes shone even
in the darkness. He was smiling.
Seeing his arms dripping blood, his coat torn like branches, one could tell what kind
of fight he’d been in.
She couldn’t have done it alone. Was that why she couldn’t help? Isabelle chuckled
and nodded.
“The others…?”
“This was the last one. Incredible. Seriously…”
“Well…”
Like looking down at a well-raised niece, the man smiled gently.
Isabelle found his words too spot-on to chuckle. This guy really saw her like a niece.
“Huh? What are you up to?”
“Treating him.”
He walked over to the fallen demon, opening a vile bottle of who-knows-what.
***
Phew, thank goodness. Kim Sunwoo let out a breath.
Thank goodness. Ivan smirked for a moment.
It was just a standard early awakening event, part of the tutorial.
Maybe Isabelle cleared out all the enemies in this forest. Sure, she might’ve
accidentally taken out everyone, survivors included, and been the sole survivor.
His interference saved everyone. Good. It looked like in this world, Ivan was the one
variable.
Ivan smiled with relief. That’s cool. Just by confirming he wasn’t an NPC, he’d done
enough.
Now, only one thing remained.
“What are you up to…?”
“Treating him.”
“Why…?”
“Because I’m curious.”
If the difference in tutorial difficulty between Ecdysis and Isabelle was usual, what
kind of challenges might the other Hero Party members face?
Should he step in or play neutral?
This was the perfect moment. Unlike during Ecdysis, this time, the mastermind
behind the chaos was out in the open.
How could the demons roam around Frechenkaya so confidently? How many
infiltrated the academy? What was their plan? Who was calling the shots?
There was a lot to uncover.
And the Cleansup Unit had a curious nature and many ways to satisfy that curiosity.
“Think I’m gonna turn my back on my country if you spare me?!”
Ivan heard these words while pressing his knee onto Icarus’ shoulder, worsening the
wound.
“Hah! Planning to torture me? Bring it on! I’m Icarus, ex-commander of the 6th
Imperial Guards!”
This was the sound made when Ivan ripped around the wound, exposing the torn
chest.
As he began to tip the healing potion, Icarus’ confident voice started wavering.
“Hydrochloric acid…! This is terrible… ugh…!! You darned… human…!”
Nah, it’s a potion. But Ivan didn’t correct the misunderstanding; secretly, he admired
him. It was a wound that completely tore one lung. Just the thought of pouring the
healing potion over it made Ivan feel a sinking heaviness in his heart.
Luckily, Ivan couldn’t recall ever being doused in a healing potion for such a severe
injury.
He’d blacked out when he’d been gravely injured before, and from what he’d heard,
he’d nearly been soaked in the potion. But even if he hadn’t passed out, he’d
probably have lost consciousness at that point.
“Ugh… Ugh… It’s… no use…”
At this point, Ivan was astounded. It was incredible that he endured the situation
where the torn lung was healing and the remnants of the healing potion were
gathering inside.
But soon, he winced.

“I won’t forget this… I’ll hold onto this grudge. Even in the afterlife!”
-Gaaahh!
With a fierce glare, he bit his tongue. A dreadful squelching sound followed. Ivan
then grabbed the potion and let out a sigh.
“For someone who fought on the battlefield, it’s surprising you still believe in such
superstitions.”
“Eh…?”
“Biting your tongue won’t kill you. Humans aren’t that fragile. The only way a person
who can’t move their body could end their life on their own is through cardiac
arrest.”
Somehow, the superstition that biting one’s tongue could instantly kill had spread
widely worldwide.
It was astonishing. Could someone accidentally commit suicide while eating?
Operatives like Ivan always harbored such doubts.
The ‘brave’ warriors, knights, and generals wreaking havoc on the battlefield seemed
more inclined to such superstitions. Perhaps because they deemed self-control and
heroism as ‘romantic.’
Staring down at Icarus with a pitying look for a moment, Ivan took a deep breath and
checked the remaining traces of the healing potion.
This was the last vial, and only 1/3 was left now.
“This will only prolong the suffering. I don’t want to torture you, Commander. This is
a treatment, and this potion is a healing potion.”
“Eh… Ugh…!”
“Stop talking. The wound will get worse.”
He poured the remaining healing potion into Icarus’ mouth and sealed it shut. It
seemed like he wanted to spit it out somehow, but soon, his eyes softened.
The partially severed tongue bathed in the healing potion, gurgling down the throat
and spreading throughout the body.
Healing potions only treat physical trauma. Drinking it wouldn’t offer any particular
benefit unless there’s a perforation in the stomach or esophagus.
Of course, if someone had esophagitis, it might heal, albeit with the sensation of the
entire esophagus burning, but let’s put that aside.
“Ugh…”
“Can you speak now?”
“Ivan Petrovich…”
“Hmm…?”
The dazed Icarus started murmuring.
He looked at Ivan’s thick beard covering his upper lip and then examined his
eyebrows and forehead.
“I heard… you were dead… this method… Ugh… Ugh… Cleanse… Unit… so… that’s
what it was…”
He likely had an active role on the battlefield during the war.
Ivan narrowed his eyes.
“Why did you step forward yourself? The Demon county situation shouldn’t be bad
enough to toss someone of your caliber as expendable.”
Being called a commander among the ranks made him nothing more than the
lowest-ranking officer.
In other words, he was just another common resource. Naturally, he wasn’t an

important figure.
But that was the case during the war when the demons’ power was at its peak;
things were different.
Now, the Demon King and the Seven Dragon Lords have been defeated, and the
remaining remnants have been scattered, driven out of the world.
Several years had passed since then, and they all nursed ambitions, engaging in a
power struggle based on the logic of strength.
At that time, being called a commander was a precious title—a verified active officer
with military force and command ability.
“Now… *cough*! Not anymore.”
“What?”
“Did you think we’d stick to a doomed plan? The Union… their negligence…
*gurgle*… it sickens me…”
When they attacked Ecdysis, the demons hired mercenaries while concealing their
identities, perhaps with help from their remaining followers within the Union. The
whole operation turned out to be a massive failure.
Afterward, they realized the mission had collapsed before it even began. They were
already compromised before executing it.
– We can’t trust our followers. There are spies among them.
(TN: I think Union refers to the United Kingdom. So there are traitors/demon
followers within the United Kingdom. Among the demon followers, there were also
spies from the Kingdom.)
Now, having lost the information war, they had to send someone they could trust for
success.
Not just anyone but this particular individual. The Hero’s daughter had to be
eliminated.
However, they had to anticipate failure too. If they sent someone crucial and failed,
the damage would be irreversible.
So, Icarus was just a pawn.
‘Some missions should succeed, and if they fail, the damage won’t be great. A
commander of just the right level.’
Ivan cast a bitter look down at Icarus. This guy knew his evaluation very clearly but
still craved it.
Even if the operation succeeded, he shouldn’t return alive to cover their tracks in an
era of peace long after the war.
Engaging in terrorism near Frechenkaya without leaving traces was impossible.
Ivan felt a deep sympathy for the man who entered the mission knowing it meant
certain death from the start.
He let out a deep sigh.
“Now, there won’t be another terrorist act. You failed.”
“…”
“It’s just me talking to myself. No need for you to respond.”
Ivan sat beside him, gazing at the sky. Icarus’s labored breathing could be heard.
“When you fail and get abandoned, they’ll say it was just a ‘few radicals’ causing the
terror. Even your superiors will explain it that way to the United Kingdom.”
“…”
“Your mere existence has surely raised the United Kingdom’s vigilance. Obviously,
they won’t engage in another foolish plot for the next terror.”
“…”
“Is there anything you wish for?”
“What… will you do to me…?”

“You have three options left.”
“One is to be detained and taken back to Frechenkaya.”
“Then, you’ll get a warm welcome at the Krasilov Command Headquarters. You’ll be
held responsible for the attempted assassination of a national figure. Later, the
Command Headquarters will spin your superior as the ‘Crown Prince’ and initiate a
political offensive.”
(TN: I’m uncertain which Crown Prince is being referred to, neither from the demon
side nor the human side, as even the Crown Prince from the United Kingdom
appears cautious around the Hero’s Children)
“Of course, severe torture and magical sanctions will be applied.”
“Or, the second option is to be set free and head back home.”
“The Krasilov Command Headquarters will tail you. Even if you manage to escape
quickly, there’s no safe return to your base near Frechenkaya.”
“Therefore, even if you return alive, this suspicion will shadow you within the demon
side.”
[A traitor who sided with the enemy to survive.]
“It was clear you’d either be seen as a traitor among the demons or face
interrogation and execution by them.”
“So…”
“Do you grasp your situation?”
“Kill me.”
“You’ve been forsaken by your own. There’s no going back, no moving forward for
you. The only destination left is the afterlife.”
Ivan gripped the axe, slowly raising it and firmly seizing the guy’s horn.
Icarus tightly closed his eyes and whispered softly.

“Though you may wander in the valley of death, fear not, for I will shelter you.”
It’s the Demon King’s prayer. Heard countless times.
During the Demon King’s era, the last words of most demons were mostly the same.
They died devoted to the Demon King. Fanatically.
Hence, Ivan also knew the following verse.
“I am the cross in the darkest night.
I am the lighthouse in the stormy sea.
I am your cradle and your fortress.”
“Fear not, for I will shelter you.”
Ivan murmured while holding Icarus’s horn.
“Are your parents still alive?”
“…What?”
“If not, I run an orphanage.”
“What are you saying right now?”
“I take care of war orphans with nowhere else to go, regardless of nationality or
race.”
Four years ago, when the Demon King died and Ivan decided to retire, the order
given by the higher-ups was as follows:
– Kill the Seven Dragon Lords.
It meant to go and die. It was an order issued to the entire Cleansup Unit.
The Cleansup Unit, consisting of a total of eight strike units, only one strike unit
survived after that order.
After his successful return, Elizaveta tearfully stamped his retirement application.
Live quietly, as if dead. Apologies for not stopping the command. Thankful that he
returned alive.
Even when the names of all those who had left had been forgotten, the honor of all
who had departed would remain eternal.
So.
“If you truly want to survive, you can forsake yourself and live as if you’re forgotten,
as if you were dead.”
Ivan stood still, contemplating the turn of events and the choices ahead.
“I’m not worthy of that.”
“Everyone is worthy. Loyalty and faith don’t define your life.”
“If you wish, I can shatter your horn. It will be the last chain binding your body.”
“But if you want, I’ll take the axe down a little further.”
“That’s the last choice to live like a human, or to leave like a human.”
Icarus closed his eyes at Ivan’s words.
He took a deep breath, and then another short one.
“I… want to live.”
“Good choice.”
-Thunk!
Another name was added to the register of the St. Basilica Orphanage.
Orphan, 50 years old, a demon.
After the failed assassination of Ecdysis, the threat from the demons escalated
significantly.
The reason Isabelle’s tutorial was designed to be so difficult was, in other words, due
to Ivan’s own behavior.
And that meant soon:
‘The tutorials do not occur simultaneously.’
It meant that it wasn’t a game where each character experienced events at the same
time as character creation, but rather, there was a time difference for each
character’s events.
Ivan pondered, stroking his chin.
The demons weren’t just moving like programmed AIs.
Like everyone else in this world, no one was just an NPC.
Even the events based on cliches could eventually lead to a flexible outcome based
on variables.
So, what could be expected? What should be done?
Ivan turned his gaze towards Isabelle.
She was looking at the survivors with sad eyes.
‘Save these kids to graduate.’
Since this world is an academy setting. That’s how it should be. Even if there were no
players, characters, or NPCs. At least that one thing shouldn’t change.
There’s still time for overthinking that afterward.
“Sir.”
“Hmm.”
“If I hadn’t boarded this train today, the families of those people… and the people on
this train… they would have lived, right?”
Since the deceased were not just sacrificial NPCs in a cutscene.
Probably, that would have been the case.
Ivan answered, gazing at the dawning night sky.
“Do you know how many people a hero kills in a year?”
“…What?”
“It’s estimated to be at least around thirty thousand, including indirect casualties.

The number of people who died being pushed into the battlefield, almost destined to
lose in order to support the hero’s operations and draw the Demon King’s attention.”
The hero party is fundamentally an assassination group, to kill the Seven Dragon
Lords and the Demon King.
Therefore, to lull them into a false sense of security, it was essential to provide them
with some sort of success in another area.
In the basic strategy of the Art of War, there were times when defeat was enforced in
other fronts to support the infiltration of the hero party.
“Everyone present at that time knew that fact. The hero, even the soldiers at the
frontline including me.”
“…”
“But even in that moment, the hero smiled.”
If not, if they were to imagine their failure, lament their own inadequacy, or succumb
to the burden of their responsibilities.
The lives lost for one’s sake end up being in vain.
Hence, the hero chose to smile. Even during the times when hope was scarce enough
that one had to search for new stars in the sky.
Because they themselves had to be a beacon of hope for everyone else.

When he crumbled, it was the end for the Allied Kingdom.
“Look.”
Ivan raised his hand and pointed towards the sky.
In the east, the sun was rising, painting the sky in a deep blue hue.
In the west, the moon was already setting, but at its edge, even far away.
The brightest stars were still shining.
“That’s the star your father carried in those days, and now it’s the star you’ve taken
over. A hero doesn’t signify the strongest individual.”
“The most… courageous individual…”
“Yes, one who never bows to any burden and never loses their smile in any moment.
We called those individuals heroes. Now, you must become their hero.”
Looking at the survivors gathered in sorrow, Ivan pressed her head gently.
“Maximilian’s daughter, Isabelle. Raise your head and stand tall. Those who are sad
receive sympathy, but those who always smile are revered. Rise with hope and
remember gratitude before guilt for someone’s sacrifice. Live to prove that their
sacrifice was not in vain for everyone.”
Like a new star. Even next to the biggest and brightest moon, without losing its
radiance.
Amidst the rising sun, shining brightly and unequivocally.
As a symbol of hope, in that way.
Isabelle stared blankly at Ivan for a moment, then suddenly regained composure.
“By any chance, are you not thinking of shaving that beard?”
“No.”
Ivan responded with disgust.
At the end of February, the streets near the University of St. Jan’s were filled with
crowds.
This was due to the inauguration ceremony finally commencing at the leading
educational institution established by the Great King. Many who had taken the
entrance exam last November had been eagerly waiting for this moment.
At this point, a hustle of Frechenkaya merchants attempted to empty the pockets of

newcomers and their families arriving from distant lands, while various “traditional
games,” including pickpocketing, were rampant.
Despite the piercing cold of early spring mornings, the excited and happy
newcomers, as well as onlookers empathizing with them, filed through the entrance
of St. Jan’s University.
“What’s that?”
That is until someone pointed to the sky and made a puzzled sound.
One by one, people started pointing peculiarly towards the sky.
Soon, as the morning light cast long shadows over the university grounds.
“A warship…?”
“An aerial battleship…?”
“Insane!! Isn’t that, isn’t that the Kalion’s flagship?!”
Many people gathered in front of the university were thrown into panic.
“S-Sir! Kalion’s warship is in the Frechenkaya airspace…!”
“Even I can see it.”
A silver-haired court official gripped his hair, bewildered.
“Surely… Our agents said Elpheira would come by land via Tylesse, didn’t they?”
“That… Ahaha! I know! Clouds, the ship flying above the clouds… right… The recent
weather has been rough. That’s why they couldn’t determine if Kalion’s dignitaries
were really coming by land or crossing the airspace with an armed warship. It makes
sense”
“No, sir. Common sense dictates that we would never be able to plant an agent in
Kalion! After all, that place is…”
Elven territory… How could we… plant them… without getting caught right away…
When an intelligence officer breaks out in a cold sweat and says, “We’re screwed if
we report this to headquarters.”
In an era where peace had become a crude joke, a warship was descending from the
sky.
It was early spring.
Chapter 17: The status window opened on the first day of enrollment.
Elizaveta shouldn’t kill the elves.
Ivan continued to ignore the people engulfed in confusion and walked, thinking that
their intentions were probably obvious.
– Haven’t you repeatedly experienced terror attacks targeting the Hero Party
children in your territory?
– How messed up is your border control that we’re dealing with this?”
– Elpihera is the pride of our country too, do you expect us to trust her to you? Now
we’ll protect our own. Thank you for your hard work and cooperation!”
It was hard to argue against. Isabelle and Ecdysis had been involved in the train
accident, and it was nearly miraculous that they all came out unharmed.
Even Elizaveta had received a warning from Ivan beforehand. But who dared to
provoke a crisis at this time in Krasilov?
Krasilov, embroiled in chaos due to the fierce quarreling between the princess and
the prince, and the country’s military strength largely intact after the war. Would an
external force dare?
Unless they wanted to die.
Elizaveta would have felt unjustly accused. She probably didn’t expect such crazy
folks to exist. Anyway, this incident could be dismissed as some kind of incident.
Even the elves of Kalion wouldn’t have committed diplomatic offenses beyond
“violent protests.”
“She’ll be damned if I’m going to tell her there’s going to be numerous terror attacks
at the academy in the future.”
The prospect of seeing Ironblood Liza crying again was tempting, but Ivan decided
against it, not wanting to continue insulting his superior.
Besides, he has no desire to face Elizaveta directly in the first place. After all, it could
be a bit awkward.
“Hmm.”
Elizaveta wrote letters frequently, and Ivan neatly replied each one. The main reason
was not wanting to engage in personal conversation, followed by not wanting to be
involved with royalty.
He should have been more cautious, given that he might be appointed as an officer in
a few years. It was a matter of reflection.
She was only fourteen when she wrote that first letter. Unexpectedly, being
promoted to an officer of the Cleansup Unit in just five years was unimaginable.
Moreover, he was in Royal Guard at that time.
The scene of the princess and the commoner exchanging words could have been
dragged into a political attack by someone’s notice. It was necessary to avoid the
misunderstanding that the Great King secretly sent someone to support Elizaveta.
“Huh? Mister?”
“…Hm?”
Lost in thought, he suddenly heard a familiar voice while walking.
Immediately, someone dashed and attempted to slap his shoulder. Ivan lightly
twisted to avoid and placed his hand on his waist. But he grasped nothing.
Only then did he remember leaving the axe in the office.
“What, what are you doing! Can’t even say hello, you scared me to death! It seems the
etiquette in Tylesse has changed a lot.”
“I just noticed you putting your hand on your waist. Is that how they greet in
Krasilov? Huh? Is that acceptable to your comrades who’ve faced life and death
together?”
It was Isabelle. She approached him with a cheerful smile, without any attendants.
“I didn’t expect you were coming to the school. Are you an Instructor? Professor? Are
you from the Knight Department? Ah, I don’t think so. Stop!! Let me guess!”
“I don’t think you have this kind of personality.”
“You said yourself for me to keep smile.”
Isabelle smiled brightly.
Due to the striking resemblance to her father, Ivan found himself involuntarily
smiling back.
“Well, I still dislike August’s attitude, and those hypocritical grinning fellows are
terribly annoying. Yeah, yeah, I could be hypocritical too, right?”
“Excellent.”
Ivan sincerely thought so. Initially, this girl was like a poorly socialized puppy.
Barking at anyone, the type to show fear easily.
Having changed her personality in just one night, Ivan rated himself as having more
educator qualities than he thought. (It was a somewhat perplexing evaluation for
Isabelle, who, within that one night, had to fight demons to save around 80 citizens
and 10 survivors.)
“Anyway! Sir, no. Um, if it’s your skill, Professor? Right? In which department?
Physical education. Definitely physical education. Not the Knight Department, uh… Is
there an assassination curriculum at St. Jan’s University?”
“Do you think an educational institution teaching such things would be useful in this
world?”
“Learning anything is good! Except magic. That one is really too difficult.”
“It’s a bit challenging for a knight not to use magic, you know?”
“Ahaha, so you’re from the Knight Department!”
Ivan watched Isabelle chatter enthusiastically for a while. As Isabelle kept on talking,
another group of people walked from a distance.
“Miss!”
“Uh.”
Isabelle stiffened but quickly managed to control her expression.
Hmph, she glanced at Ivan, tried to compose herself, and then spoke cheerfully.
“Oh, my, sir! You’re here!”
“Please speak comfortably, Miss. You can call me Oscar.”
“Okay, next time!”

Oscar.
Ivan’s eyes widened sharply.
A very handsome blond young man, surrounded by a group of female students,

approached him with a bright smile.
Truly resembling his father. Ivan marveled. Not just in appearance, even in that
certain air of arrogance. The only difference might be the surrounding crowd.
The women around Jill Ber were very well-kept.
In reality, it wasn’t easy to meet women at that time.
The only women at the party were a saint and a thief, and Patricia was barely a
teenager, and Enrique was a vampire over a hundred years old.
“Um, nice to meet you. I’m Oscar de Sation of Tylesse. And you?”
“I apologize, but what’s your relationship with the lady…? Ah, sorry. I don’t know if
you know, but the lady is a state guest, so you might inadvertently show some
disrespect.”
Anyone seeing a suspicious bearded man walking with the hero’s daughter would
think this.
Ivan wouldn’t agree with this assessment, but from Oscar’s perspective, it was like
that. This guy was suspicious, especially recalling Isabelle’s involvement in the train
terror, it was even more so.
Oscar had set off three days later than Isabelle. It was because Isabelle didn’t want to
go with him even if she was about to die.
And when news of Isabelle’s accident reached Tylesse.
– Advance! To Frechenkaya!
– Tear apart the feet of Krasilov’s bears!

– A country that forgets history has no future! Don’t forget the heroic deeds of the
heroes, people of Tylesse!
The streets of St. Mathilde were full of citizens holding such placards. The daughter
of a hero, not in an accident abroad but missing due to terrorism, what could be the
problem.
Fortunately, news quickly spread that Isabelle had survived without any injuries, and
the protests dispersed. But the vigilance and distrust in Tylesse had risen sharply.
In the midst of this, he even heard a firm word from his father, Jill Ber the border
guard.
“When you enroll, no matter what happens, make sure Isabelle doesn’t even scratch
a hair.”
“Even if I die?”
“Your life is less precious than that kid’s life, no matter how I think about it.”
“You’re really something. If you really care about her, why didn’t you switch her and
me back then? I heard you were close to the Hero.”
“If I could, I would have done it twenty years ago. Son, me and Julia always wanted a
daughter.”
“Wow, you two really bad parents.”
Recalling the strict guidance of Tylesse’ knights, the great Border Guard Jill Ber,
Oscar controlled his expression but then composed himself.
“I’m a staff member at St. Jan’s University.”
“Excuse my behavior. Due to recent unfortunate events, please forgive my rudeness.”
“Okay.”
“May I ask which department you’re in? I’ve never seen your name on the faculty
list.”
At this point, Isabelle’s ears perked up. He wasn’t a professor?
“I’m a gardener.”
“Uh…”
“…Hmm…?”
His skill? A gardener?
Isabelle looked at him in shock, unsure of what to think with those deep eyes that
revealed no expression, despite the disheveled beard.
“Uh, what?”
She then chuckled and lightly hit Ivan’s side. Ivan reflexively moved to reach for his
waist before realizing his axe wasn’t there and naturally dropped his hand.
“A government agent, right? A secret agent or something? Wow, university life is

really thrilling. What could you be hiding to have a government agent planted here?”
Isabelle whispered and soon composed herself.
“This is between us, okay? Understand? Don’t talk about it elsewhere, okay?”
“If it’s a secret between us, I think you should watch your mouth more.”
“Come on, I’m the Hero’s daughter. Solemnity, secrecy, justice.”
“Did the hero ever say that?”
As the whispered conversation between the two continued, Oscar’s expression

strangely changed.
“Miss?”
“Oh, yes. Sir. Petrovich, thank you for guiding me. Wow, the campus is so wide, I
almost got lost! Goodbye!”
Was there a drama department in the Arts Faculty at St. Jan’s University? Ivan
seriously considered recommending Isabelle to take an acting class as part of her
education.
At that moment, in the main hall where St. Jan’s University’s entrance ceremony
preparations were in full swing, someone was blankly staring into space.
“What’s this? Status… Window?”
[Congratulations!]”
Many students don’t even think about it, but in fact, the category of university staff
includes many workers besides professors and teaching assistants.
For instance, security guards are responsible for campus security and safety, or
administrative assistants manage administrative tasks.
Just as you might not notice the cafeteria cleaners while you’re eating, there are
other people who come and go from your peripheral vision without you noticing.
Gardeners are the same. That’s why Elizaveta assigned Ivan to the gardening job. Not
a noticeable role like professors or teaching assistants, and a position where
someone could be stationed without raising any suspicion, simultaneously a role
with no defined duties.
Since there wasn’t a garden at the university, there was no need for a gardener at
Jan’s University.
“Right.”
It’s a matter of course. A university built in the center of a capital city wouldn’t waste
land on a garden or flower garden.
That was the case.
However, even if the princess made a position available, nobody could have any
suspicions.
After all, if it was truly an important figure, or if Elizaveta was plotting something
within the university, they would have assigned an agent to a more crucial position
than this.
The royal faction probably believed that one of Elizaveta’s subordinates quietly
secured a position for their acquaintance.
This kind of action is just a minor transgression typical in a kingdom – known

individuals securing positions for themselves or others, which isn’t illegal. In noble
circles, these slight transgressions are often perceived as acts of integrity.
(TN: Even though I found it suspicious that the university hired a gardener despite
not having a garden, it turns out due to a culture of nepotism there. Officials
intentionally opened job positions for their own relatives/acquaintances to receive a
blind salary, so this practice was considered normal.)
“Indeed, it was here.”
So, the gardener at Jan’s University has a lot of free time. Enough to engage in leisure
activities.
At this point, the gardener’s leisure activities at Jan’s University were bomb disposal.
“Their movements, the circulation of people within the campus, and the field of view
from each building were all considered.”
These individuals are “experts.”
Ivan, while disarming the third explosive, narrowed his eyes. It was a crude magical
explosive, making it difficult to pinpoint the culprit.
The reason Ivan was identifying and searching for the explosives was as follows:
Firstly, an attack during the Academy’s induction ceremony was considered

“common sense.”
Secondly, with bombers in the sky and the surveillance from the intelligence
headquarters heightened to an extreme level at this moment, only “experts” could
attack the Academy.
By thinking this way and reverse-engineering the enemy’s movements, the location
to plant the bomb could be determined.
A place inconspicuous to the guards.

At the same time, an area not visible to any civilians.
Moreover, a spot from which no one could be seen through the building’s windows.
By examining the intersection of these conditions, the bomb would be found. It’s
almost like harvesting potatoes.
Once the location was roughly determined, he’d leisurely stroll there and pluck it
out.
“Now, whose doing is this, that’s all it is.”
The problem was precisely this.
There were too many suspicious individuals.
Demons, though the least likely, were suspicious precisely for that reason. These
individuals had sufficient motives to terrorize Jan’s University. But simultaneously, if
these individuals were not riffraff, they wouldn’t repeat such actions right after their
previous failure.
Elves, on the other hand, were also suspicious. But their motives were faint.
The fact that they still have the battleship hovering over Jan’s University makes it
easiest to pull off such a feat. However, even if an elf commits this act and tarnishes
Krasilov’s reputation, the gain is minimal. The royal faction. Presumably, they are the
closest to the culprit.
These individuals have both the means and the motives to attack Jan’s University. But
today would have been challenging. The intelligence headquarters, directly hit by
Elizaveta’s wrath, has lit up and guarded this area intensively.
So, there are too many suspicious individuals.
A mysterious organization, harboring highly skilled operatives, has clandestinely

infiltrated the academy.
“Just an ordinary academy setting.”
At this point, Ivan felt somewhat relieved.

Yes. An attack during the academy’s induction ceremony and having secret
operatives planted within the academy – that’s what constitutes an ordinary
academy scene.
Especially with the absence of newcomers performing martial arts or introducing

themselves as magical beings, or a cowboy shooting a pump-action gun with a leaf in
their mouth, or a young girl who swears a lot but is an exceptional tank.
Shaking his head with a bitter smile, Ivan headed towards the next expected
explosive location.
And then, at that moment, he heard something odd.
Very faintly.
“What’s that? Santa Claus?”
Ivan’s eyes sharply widened. Without giving any hint, he stooped down as if to tie his
shoelaces naturally, holding a pebble in his hand. He hurled it in the direction where
the sound came from.
-Caw!
The sound of something being deflected, and immediately, like a bolt of lightning,
Ivan sprung in that direction.
(TN: Ivan is called Santa Claus because of his beard and the bag (bomb) on his back.)
Thud, thud! The swift footsteps were audible, and finally, Ivan stopped in his tracks.
Without a trace. Through the multitude waiting for the end of the induction
ceremony outside Jan’s University.
“Santa Claus, huh.”
Ivan chuckled wryly and turned around. Returning the same way, a cleanly split
pebble lay visible after a short while.
Methodically breaking down and reassembling the information.

-Combat skills.
-A young male or female. If male, at least not in puberty.
-The voice is too indistinct to specify, might need a few more listens to gauge.
-Height, not confirmed.
-Quick reflexes. Swift motor skills. Probably, senses diagonally.
-Difficult abilities to have at a student’s level, but very likely a student.
He turned and changed direction, this time heading towards the campus.
Towards the most dangerous place at Jan’s University. Towards the auditorium
where Elizaveta is attending the induction ceremony.
And certainly towards the on-site control room of the intelligence headquarters that
would be nearby.
“Santa… Claus.”
There’s no folk legend of Santa Claus in this world.
Naturally, Christmas doesn’t exist. There isn’t an elderly red rogue, righteous enough
to stuff candies and toys in socks. That’s why the mere mention of those insignificant
words drew such a sensitive response.
So.
So.
“Transmigrator.”
Did this guy also write the 5,700-character critique of “Gratitude”? Or is this some
product of chance? Got hit by a truck? Diving into the Han River is too old-fashioned,
so let’s dismiss that. Of course, it could be the original author. That’s also a common
possibility.
For what reason and by what means did they arrive in this world?
But one thing is certain.
This entity knows that this game is an “Academy scenario.” The only reason a
transmigrator would enter the university or seek employment is for that reason.
So, this guy.
Knows the “original work.”
Knows what will unfold next.
Knows the ending.
“Hey, wait. Stop right there! This is a restricted area!”
“Call Dmitry here.”
“What? Who are you… Where did you get the name from…”
-Thunk!
Ivan snapped the arm of the uniformed soldier blocking his way. The soldier reacted
immediately, pulling a gun from his sleeve, but it was disassembled like water
flowing as Ivan turned the lock.
The soldier, with his arm held and only the grip of the gun remaining in his hand,
stared blankly.
The next moment, click, click. The gun barrels popped out in an instant.
Five. Good training. Good disguise, too.
The five soldiers surrounding him each portrayed different personas. Like ordinary
citizens you might see anywhere.
After scanning the surrounding soldiers once, Ivan took a deep breath. Then exhaled
shortly.
Anger surged. Anxiousness ate away at his patience.

“Get Dmitry.”
“Do you know Lieutenant Colonel? Please don’t make a scene here; let’s talk in a
quieter place…”
“Ivan.”
“Uh… yes?”
“I’m Ivan Petrovich. Are you from the Cleansup Unit?”
“I was the last recruit. Sir. Excuse me, but if I may confirm your face…”
The soldier kneeling before Ivan raised his head cautiously. Slowly letting go of the
gun grip he had been holding, he raised his hands wide open.
He scrutinized Ivan’s face for a while with a perplexed expression, then gently
covered Ivan’s chin with his hand.
“Oh my goodness. Really… ‘Little’ Ivan…?”
Cold sweat dripped from the soldier’s face as he examined Ivan’s features – eyes,
nose, forehead, and beyond.
He quickly gestured with his eyes, indicating the surrounding soldiers, then politely
inclined his head.
“Lieutenant Petrovich, it’s an honor to meet you.”
“The name?”
“I’m Osip Sorenov. You probably don’t know me. I’m from the 3rd Strike Squad, and
we’ve only met once from a very distant place.”
“I remember now. Osip.”
Ivan released the soldier’s arm and stepped back. Osip brushed his knees and stood
up, extending his hand politely. Ivan shook hands with him.
“Do not mourn those who have gone before us.”

“I stand alongside them.”
“I heard you perished in battle, Lieutenant. I distinctly saw your nameplate at the
National Cemetery…”
“I, too, never expected a survivor from the 3rd Strike Unit.”
“We survived in place of the finest men of our time.”
“All of us did.”
The final mission executed by all Strike Squads of the Cleansup Unit was the ‘Dragon
Lords Assassination.’
Therefore, including Ivan’s squad, the only one to survive, if there were any other
survivors.
They were merely survivors indebted to the most exceptional men.
Ivan patted Osip’s shoulder and spoke again.
“Bring Dmitry. And inform Cherkatov, ‘We need the entire list of students, not only
freshmen but all undergraduate students, as well as the full roster of faculty.
Attendees of the induction ceremony, VIPs, their families, acquaintances, relatives.
We need a list of everyone who can access Jan’s University right now.'”
“Yes, Lieutenant. Hey, tell Colonel Cherkatov! Urgent situation!”
Startled and unable to follow the situation, the agents hurriedly vacated their
positions.
Staring at the bustling auditorium where the induction ceremony was taking place,
Ivan took a slow, deep breath.
Transmigrator.
Perhaps Korean. No, it doesn’t matter. Because they’re all Earthlings.
Countrymen. Sadly, that was the case.

That was it. A bitter feeling arose. Both for Kim Sunwoo and for Ivan.
They had to be eliminated.
Information about the ending was needed,
The variables heading towards the ending had to be removed,
And most importantly,
“I’m not an NPC.”
Ivan closed his eyes.
I’m not an NPC. My memories, my experiences, my career are not part of the
prologue. I’m not an NPC.
My life is not just a fleeting background story. I must, I must…
Survive and return.
So, I’ll say that I have more reasons to kill you than to let you live.
Before I heard in that damned ‘original’ about ‘Ivan Petrovich.’
Before it’s too late. Definitely.
“Gasp, cough… What’s that crazy…! A pre-emptive monster? No, damn it, I’ve never
heard of something like that! What the heck, where did this mess start from!”
Sweating profusely and panting, suddenly, a familiar voice was heard.
‘Father.’
“Are you back? What have you been doing…? Forget it. Pathetic.”
“Father…”
“Sit down. Making a ruckus like this over using the bathroom, you’re still the same as
ever.”
That damned ‘spoiled youngest.’
If ‘spoiled’ is common in proper fantasy immediately after transmigration.
We should have heroically repelled the ‘Academy Assault’ and started the mood
reversal from here. But suddenly, the quest was canceled!
[“D-Rank Quest” Academy Assault Repelled -Canceled-]
[The academy is under attack by an unidentified group! Repel the assault towards
the auditorium and undergraduate facilities during the induction ceremony!]
[Objective: Remove explosives in the campus 3/3 (Removed)]
[Optional Objective: Intruder Elimination -Canceled-]
[Optional Objective: Protecting Freshmen 0/322 -Canceled-]
[Reward: -Canceled-]
“Damn it.”
Lost a crucial early quest. Wasn’t the Academy Assault meant to be a debut stage for
the protagonist?
An excellent opportunity to instill a clear understanding in the heroines and future

colleagues, to gain admiration from the instructors…!
Suddenly, when the quest was canceled alone, I was shocked. Rushed over, only to
meet a Santa Claus-like monster!
And, what’s this now?
[“??? Rank Quest” St. Jan’s University’s Gardener.]
[You’ve caught his eye. Good Luck.]

[Objective: Eliminate the St. Jan’s University gardener, Ivan Petrovich]
[Optional Objective: Persuade Ivan Petrovich]
[Optional Objective: Conceal Information]
[Additional Objective: Survival]
[Failure Penalty: Death]

“Senior, don’t you think it’s a little awkward for us to see each other here? An
orphanage is nice. An orphanage. That’s where we should meet. Do you think I’m a
regular patron at your orphanage for nothing?”
“It’s urgent.”
“Sigh… You came in a rush. Why did you hit the boys again? Seriously, just convey the
message.”
Dmitri grumbled as he led Ivan to a nearby cafe.
The second floor of the cafe near the university was crowded with people waiting for
the ceremony to end.
Or so it seemed.
As soon as Dmitri led Ivan up the stairs to the second floor, the bustling cafe
suddenly fell silent.
“Ah, just do what everyone else does. Act normally.”
As Dmitri waved his hand, the operatives who filled the cafe returned to being
regular citizens. In the middle, a table strategically placed out of sight from both the
window and the stairs stood empty.
“Sit. Ah, that place used to be a safe spot, but now we can’t use it again. Do you know
how hard it is to make a hiding spot in the middle of Frechenkaya?”
“Sorry.”
“Never mind. So, what did you bring?”

Dmitri smiled and, extending his hand, Ivan pulled out three small explosive devices
from within his coat.
Dmitri’s expression disappeared momentarily. Upon seeing his hand moving gently
toward the explosives, Ivan spoke.
“The detonators are removed.”
“Why didn’t you say that first!! Ugh, you scared me to death!”
“If you had so many doubts about me, you shouldn’t have hired me from the start.”
“Why such a petty remark? In our line of work, even our parents might harbor
doubts about us.”
Dmitri shrugged and inspected the explosives. After fiddling with them for a while, a
broad smile gradually appeared on his face.
“Interesting. This is inside Jan’s University?”
“Yes. They’re experts.”
“It’s obvious. Three. Judging by the power, it seems unlikely to be a building

demolition or an assassination. This is about diversion, right?”
“Yes. Probably, there was a separate infiltration team.”
“We didn’t miss anyone on our side. Definitely not the Royalists. We’ve kept a close
eye on them.”
Dmitri chuckled and clapped his hands together. Soon, one of the operatives,
disguised as an ordinary middle-aged woman, approached.
“Send this to the headquarters’ magical department.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
“And the documents? Are they ready?”
“Yes.”
She retrieved a thick stack of documents from her basket. Dmitri briefly glanced
through the papers and pushed them toward Ivan.
“This is what you asked for, and I’ve really gone to the trouble of preparing it in a
hurry, even if Her Royal Highness is sincere in her support of you, but, uh, well.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Oh, Her Royal Highness wants to see you, when you free?”
“It might be difficult for the time being.”
Ivan picked up the documents and stood. As he turned to leave, a voice came from
behind.
“Senior.”
“Yes.”
“You have dark circles under your eyes. You know that, right?”
“…”
As Dmitri turned around, he looked at Ivan with a serious expression.
Shadows danced beneath his hat, and his eyes glowed with an intense and precise
gaze.
“Relax. This isn’t a battlefield here.”
“…Hmm.”
“Well, it’s a bit much for a retired man asking them a job, but it’s important for you to
broaden your perspective and not feel pressured to be flawless, neither Her Royal
Highness nor I anticipate perfection from you.”
Without a response, Ivan gave a slight nod and turned away.
Dmitri chuckled and tilted his head. “That’s why people should fall in love. Staying
holed up, not even basking in the sun, how dreary it must be, right?”
“Lieutenant Petrovich… indeed, the ‘Little’ Ivan. Your reputation was not in vain.
Impressive.”
“When I first saw him, I almost peed myself. To think someone who had been idling
away for four years would have this capacity. Anyway.”
Tapping on the table, Dmitri urged, “Find someone for him. Don’t let him be alone.”
“Do you want me to intervene if he goes too far?”
“What? Are you looking to get yourself killed? Just observe. But from a very, very safe
distance.”
Even if he crosses the line, how much further can he push? Perhaps he’s eager to step
in and uncover the person behind the explosives. At most, he’ll frighten a few
students—what’s the purpose of provoking an irritated Ivan?
While Dmitri was pondering this,
Ivan was in the office, retrieving an axe and a healing potion.
***
It cannot be told to anyone.
The story that this world is, in fact, merely a kind of game and is rolling by a
sophisticated system.
So, I have to do it myself.
Ivan sincerely believed that as he unfolded the report received from Dmitri on the
table.
– List of faculty members.
– List of freshmen.
– Personal information of undergraduate students.

This year, over 300 freshmen enrolled. Jan’s University is a three-year institution, so
the total number of undergraduate students approaches around a thousand.
Taking into account all staff, including faculty, assistants, security, administrative
staff, admissions office, and considering students who entered graduate school or
postponed graduation due to reasons such as leave.
Total: 1733.
“One more thing there.”
He had to examine the ‘families’ of students who have access to the entrance
ceremony.
If there’s enough likelihood for everyone to step onto the university grounds on the
day of the induction ceremony, then all of them can be considered suspects.
That is, if considering dignitaries from various countries and the families of the
students. Total: 2429.
“I know you’re in there.”
Ivan organized the piles of documents classified by category and tapped them
heavily.
“Don’t think it’ll be easy to find.”
Arrogance is the sharpest dagger that kills operatives.
“But it won’t take long. Promise me.”
The people who possess abilities in the academy can never lead a quiet school life.
That’s common sense.
They’ll repel attacks, monopolize skills, and somewhere, gain a vision.
Academy stories, in essence, follow the standard ‘generic’ platform. It can’t be

helped. Who would like a story about simply going to school and graduating
normally?
Hence, if this guy knows the ‘original’.
It was clear that he’d undoubtedly mimic the movements of the protagonist in the
original work. All those who possess abilities live like that.
Even Kim Sunwoo’s initial thoughts when he was first possessed were ‘monopolizing
skills’ and ‘spreading modern culture.’
So, all possessors are extremely selfish, filled with variables, and any sudden action
from them wouldn’t be surprising.
After the fierce war that the NPCs fought had ended, perhaps they wanted to
peacefully enroll in the ‘academy’ and enjoy a pleasant game-based story.
They probably wouldn’t care or understand the lives of the countless people passing
by in the background setting.
They’d just enjoy it. They’d feel like they’re in a well-made theme park.
The fact that this is just a vent, an aimless hatred, or even a baseless jealousy, has
already been acknowledged.
“What’s that, Santa Claus?”
It was just a casual remark, but that one word made it clear how the guy dealt with
others.
He’s not even hiding the fact that he’s transmigrated, just enjoys it. That one word
twisted Ivan’s heart.
That one word, looking at others as mere ‘objects.’
“Lieutenant! Did you see that? I was incredible, right? I parried all seven attacks!”
“Don’t talk.”
“Haha, if you ask me to, I might be able to do it again. It’s a pity. I should have angled
the shield a bit more to the right.”
“Chernovika. Don’t talk.”

“If I had done that, maybe that fool Sasha could have been saved. Truly a shame,
Lieutenant. Truly.”
“We’re nearly there. Just hold on a little longer, please.”
“I’ll go keep Sasha company… Even then, we won’t be alone. We’ve handled our
relationships well…… whether it’s heaven or hell.”
“Please. Silence. The blood cools faster. Chernovika. Please.”
“Live long… Lieutenant… Come as late as you can… If you come early… we’ll be in
trouble.”
Their story is not just background settings.
Amid the scattered documents, Ivan was having a nightmare.
It’s a memory from a long time ago.
“Don’t mourn those who leave first.”
“I stand alongside them.”
Their story is not just background settings.
– They were the finest men of their time.
– We all are.
Their history isn’t some sort of scenario.
No, it shouldn’t be.
In the nightmare, Ivan muttered slowly.
Listening to Kim Sunwoo’s voice patting his back.
“Kimchi stew, tteokbokki, nachos with melted cheese, pork stir-fry, raw fish
bibimbap, Sokcho-style cold raw fish, warm ramen.
Hometown, home, Korea, Seoul, rooftop room, parents.
Subway stations, convenience stores, nightlife, hometown, need to return. Firmly set
my heart, don’t waver, face it head-on.
It’s okay. We’re not alone.”
Picking up the things that calm the mind aimlessly.
Until the night ends.
After the start of the semester, Ecdysis found herself in a difficult situation.
Nobody wanted to eat with her. Despite the title of “royalty” at this school where
nobles from all over the world gathered, it didn’t exempt her from isolation.
However, having the royal guard (a middle-aged man, muscular, wielding an axe)
always glaring could indeed be a significant burden for young students barely in
their early twenties.
“Ah, it’s all messed up because of you, Uncle!”
“How’s that my fault? Isn’t the problem the ones flirting with my niece in the first
place?”
“Then why are you stopping the girls too!”
“Uncle already heard those girls talking behind my niece’s back.”
“Uwaaa… my university life… my life… Dad… I hate it…!”
The strongest music student, becoming a target on the first day of school, ran while
sobbing.
“Sorting and filtering, three and there…”
It took three days to arrive at this point. Ivan stood up, rubbing the corners of his
eyes, stiffened from the strain.
The sorting criteria were as follows:
The sudden appearance of an individual with significantly altered personality or

behavior, people displaying peculiar conduct.
Obtaining further information would have been impossible without the assistance of
the intelligence bureau, as it involved delving directly into aristocratic circles
“The issue lies with these individuals.”
One is an orphan enrolled through a practical skill scholarship program, while the
other two are associated with the crown prince, stemming from aristocratic
backgrounds.
Interfering is a challenge. Even if Ivan conceals his involvement, tracing it will likely
link back to the intelligence bureau, which is under Elizaveta’s command. Provoking
the aristocracy without concrete evidence might harm Elizaveta’s political influence.
“Is it too difficult to abduct all three…?”
Ivan tapped the table, envisioning the sound Dmitri might make if he had a grievance
(a sound akin to one he’d express to Elizaveta).
One is a freshman on a full scholarship, already under extensive scrutiny despite

being an orphan. Provoking them recklessly could lead to a complex situation.
The other two are scions of influential aristocratic families. Simply abducting them is
naturally impossible.
If one were truly a ‘possessed individual,’ he might act more boldly, but currently, it’s
mere suspicion without confirmed evidence.
Hence.
“Mark these three and observe them for a while.”
Killing is an option at any time.
Even abduction isn’t overly difficult.
However, for a clean, flawless maneuver, preparation is vital.
Therefore, after three days, Ivan resolved to start working at the academy.
From that day on, rumors circulated about monsters appearing at St. Jan’s University.
***
Trapped in the web of malevolence and fate, Ecdysis, abandoned by destiny, had
limited options.
Fortunately, the semester had just commenced. Regardless of the first impression,
there was always a chance to alter the circumstances.
For instance, seeking someone ‘even my uncle dares not approach’ was among the
options.
“Dad’s friend’s daughter…!”
Whether it was a parental arrangement or a coincidence, it was intriguing that the

offspring of the heroes’ party were in the same grade.
No matter how careless her uncle might be, he wouldn’t approach a hero’s child
recklessly.
That led to this lunch meeting.

“Pleased to meet you. Ah, Miss Einarsdottir… is it alright to address you this way?”1
“Oh, that simply means ‘Einar’s daughter.’ Please feel free to call me Ecdysis.”
“Hmm… but you’re a… princess, aren’t you?”
“Hahaha, a princess. I’ve never been treated as such before; it almost brings tears to
my eyes.”
(TN: Ecdysis’s name is Ecdysis Einarsdottir (Ecdysis the Daughter of Einar), so the
spokesperson thought it was her surname.)
Ecdysis, tearing up, enthusiastically shook hands with the charming girl.
“Ah, was I a bit impolite…? I’m sorry. I know Isabelle, so… you’re a freshman in the
Knight Department, right? And your name is…?”
“I’m Yuri Frank. Miss Ecdysis. Please, call me Yuri.”
“Essie, stop shaking hands, let go, and step back. You’re of royalty, remember?”
“Sorry!” She returned to her seat and said, “Ah, but I didn’t know about the noble
families in Krasilov Court!”
“You didn’t? You’re in trouble, you know?”
Isabelle chuckled and nudged Ecdysis, pretending her lineage was no more
significant than royalty.
As Ecdysis, still puzzled, hesitated and blushed, Yuri spoke up.
“I’m just an orphan. Frank isn’t even my real surname, to be honest.”
“Moreover, Yuri is typically a boy’s name. Surviving on the streets is tough using a
girl’s name.”
Yuri replied with a carefree laugh. Isabelle smirked and turned to Ecdysis.
“This one is a full scholarship student in our department. Incredibly skilled with a
sword.”
“Wow, more than Isabelle?”
“Absolutely, even better than Oscar. Frankly, I was surprised. Where did this kid come
from?”
“That’s too much praise. I just got lucky.”
“Luck is also a part of someone’s power.”
Ecdysis felt a warm, comforting feeling.
Yes, this is it. This is right.
A lively spring, warm sunshine, complimenting each other’s skills over a meal,
engaging in friendly competition… this ideal.
Unknowingly, she wiped her tears. By now, her uncle might be chatting with the
Knight Department students; she forcibly erased that image from her mind.
***
Isabelle, Ecdysis, and the freshman.
Ivan perched on a tree, observing and jotting down notes.
He couldn’t catch their conversation but was adept at eavesdropping.
The discussion was casual. The name was either Yuri or Yuli.
Both names were on the freshman roster, but if it was on his “suspect list,” it was
more likely to be Yuri.
This presents a problem. Of all the people, the ‘suspect’ is in contact with the heroes’
party and goes by the name ‘Yuri.’
Naturally, in the Krasilov cultural zone, the name is masculine. However, in Korea
and extending to ‘Northeast Asia,’ it’s used as a feminine name.
If there’s a woman using the name Yuri, the likelihood of a ‘possessed individual’ is
high.
He underlined one red line along the line of suspicion.
***
“What’s he doing?”
Enrique, sporting a wide-brimmed hat, gazed at her disciple Ivan.
Usually sensitive, making approach difficult from this distance, but seemingly
unaware of her own presence, indicating his intense focus.
She followed Ivan’s line of sight. Far away, some freshmen were making noise on a
bench.
“Is that Isabelle…? That one looks like Ecdysis… they’ve known each other for a
while… but I don’t know that one.”
Thinking to briefly check as instructed by the intelligence bureau, she found him
following the new students, monitoring the scene like operatives.
“His style remains unchanged. Isn’t he overly enthusiastic for his role?”
Ivan maintained his typical expressionless gaze, skillfully blending into the
background with apparent nonchalance. It was his usual meticulous self, almost
obsessively focused on his target.
Enrique simply shrugged and withdrew into the shadows.”
***
“Eugene! Come with me! What classes do you have in the afternoon? I’m going to
Biblical Hermeneutics!”
“I have Gospel Exegesis. Sorry.”
“Oh, no! See you later then… study well!”
After smiling and seeing off a student whose name he couldn’t recall, the young man
referred to as Eugene solidified his expression and strode down the lecture hall
corridor.
It was exhausting. Moreover, it was perplexing.
If he had known there’d be so much to learn, he might not have chosen theology, but
at that time, it seemed the most suitable choice.
“I can’t use my body for that kind of thing.”
This was a clear conclusion. Never having wielded a kitchen knife in his life,
suddenly engaging in combat with monsters or demons was impossible now.
Yet, selecting a vocation that entirely omitted combat was equally problematic. He
had to pick a profession directly involved in the field.
Thus, theology. Through the priestly course, he could learn various buffs, healing
skills, and even holy striking spells.
“And this body has expertise in swordsmanship.”
The protagonist of “The Mad Swordsman of the Northern Duchy,” Eugene, was a
swordplay genius. This was evident in the system.
While surrounding freshmen showed modest growth between levels 8 and 10,
displaying insignificant combat skills, this body achieved the remarkable feat of
reaching “Sword Mastery Lv 5” on the first day of possession.
He had already surpassed the level of a first-year instructor at the Knight

Department of St. Jan’s University Academy. In other words, he had surpassed the
level of a freshman.
However, the challenge lay in the technical aspect of learning swordsmanship and
using it to kill—two vastly different things.
For a modern Korean who had never even wrung a chicken’s neck, this was an
immensely strenuous task…
“So, a priest would be the best option…”
A rear line that doesn’t demand frontline action. Healing or casting a few spells
suffices, and even wielding a sword better than average is acceptable.
It’s commonly said that one should make a real skill a side job. Isn’t it natural that an
idol with excellent acting skills gains more popularity than a method actor?
The peculiar issue arising here is that:
First, the curriculum in the Theology Department of St. Jan’s University is as intense
as, if not more intense than, that in modern Korea.
Second, there’s a suspicious-looking stone-faced Santa Claus following him.
“Who the heck is he…!”
The original novel didn’t feature such an event. In fact, it portrayed an entirely
different world compared to the original storyline. There was no subtly radical Red
Empire, no appearances of demon lords, or hero parties in the original novel. It was
essentially an average ‘family saga,’ revolving around battles between evil wizard
clans and spanning around 1,000 episodes!
The only commonality between this world and that novel was the familiar skill tree,
status interface, and the familiar situations within the clans.
“The Northern Grand Duke…? How can there be a Northern Grand Duke when the
country of Krasilov itself is in the north!”
“And why can’t I see his level…!”
It’s known that the notation changes to ‘???’ when the gap level exceeds the normal
level.
However, even that has its limits. Why is the Academy Gardener’s level displayed like
that? He also lamented the fact that even his head clan’s level is 59.
In his peripheral vision, a wide-eyed, bearded monster glared at him from a tree.
No one around him seemed to notice, so he tried to ignore it, but he could vaguely
perceive it with his [Expanded Intuition 3Lv].
***
“He is following a total of three people.”

Enrique was sure. Initially, she considered letting it slide, thinking he was assigned
to protect the Hero Party members, but then she realized Ivan was tailing specific
students for a certain reason.
The problem was… those three had nothing in common. One was from Theology,
another from Knighthood, and the third from Magic studies.
Their backgrounds didn’t match at all—a noble’s son, an orphan, and a writer’s
youngest daughter. It just didn’t add up.
“And his mannerisms. The way he glared, crouched in the bushes, resembled a
predatory glare… almost like looking at an enemy.”
“We aren’t supposed to touch those students, are we?”
The orphan who nearly broke down the door to enroll on a scholarship seems to be
attracting attention from various quarters. The two noble children are from
aristocratic families.
They are evidently figures associated with the royal family. It’s unwise to intervene,
especially considering they both belong to the Magic and Knight Departments. If
there’s one common factor, it’s that the heads of the departments aren’t from
Krasilov.
Naturally, the Theology Department is overseen by a Saint, while the Magic

Department is managed by the Elves of Kalion. In other words, causing harm to the
students would pose a significant issue.
“Surely not. He wouldn’t go to such an extent…”
Enrique smirked, but inwardly, hse was thinking that this lunatic might do it for
some reason.
The rogue of the hero party, the vampire who reigned over the back alleys of
Frechenkaya for a century, was always prepared to intervene in emergencies and
was trailing the student-stalker.
***
“He looked into my eyes.”

Though trailing far from the main building of the Theology Department, that kid
recognized me.
Ivan, with sunken eyes, glared at the young man from the ‘suspect list.’
Yevgeni Nokov Karamjin.
Yevgeni is an ordinary name, nothing special. But the name Yevgeni can also be
interpreted as Eugene in the Asian cultural sphere. Naturally, it holds a different
meaning than the Catholic saint Eugenios.
Therefore, this individual listed in the ‘suspect list’ is highly likely to be a

‘transmigrator.’
Ivan drew two red underlines. Detection of concealment, suspicious movements, and
a suspicious name.
1. The word “dottir” at the end of the sentence is Icelandic and means “daughter.” It
is a patronymic suffix, derived from the father’s first name. In Icelandic tradition, a
child’s last name is formed by adding the genitive form of their father’s first name to
the suffix “-dottir” for daughters or “-son” for sons.
Confirmation bias, a term signifying the inclination to selectively choose information
in line with one’s views, becomes irresistible once doubt sets in. Enrique’s situation
mirrors this pattern.
“There’s something off with him.”
For three days, she has been lurking and digesting intel.
When they initially joined the assassination group, Enrique instilled in her disciples
the virtue of ‘patience’—to stand firm regardless of weather, insects, and observe the
target. However, the extent to which Ivan takes this goes beyond what Enrique
intended.
Unlike herself, a vampire with no inherent hostility as long as she avoids sunlight or
blessings, Enrique, being human, has basic needs like sleep, meals, and rest. Enrique
squinted at Ivan and sighed deeply.
Taking care of someone his age, especially at this age, feels like a cruel joke.
“Hey, disciple.”
Ivan stood there like a statue, completely focused and unresponsive to distant voices.
His eyes’ movement reveals an ongoing monologue. Enrique shrugged, shoved her
hands into her sleeves.
-Snap. Bang!
She fired the gun, a perfect shot with no unnecessary movement. A precise shot to
the back of the head, no shake.
Ivan dodged, tilting his head and leaping off the tree with an axe in hand.
“Enrique…?”
“Yeah, kid. Let’s get out of here. Gunshots can attract unwanted attention. We’ll go to
your place.”
“I’m in a bit of a bind right now.”
“I’m in a lot of trouble. Elise will cry again if she finds out. Let’s visit your orphanage
while we’re at it.”
Enrique grabbed Ivan’s collar tightly and dragged him away. Ivan glanced at her face
and put the axe back.
The grandmaster is a quirky woman, slightly crazy, but not one to make frivolous
remarks. Thus, they aimed to uncover the urgent matter. Ivan smoothly escaped
from Enrique’s arms and walked ahead.
“The place may be a bit messy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go for now.”
A while later, Enrique stepped into Ivan’s orphanage.
Her first impression was bewilderment.
“Are you really not raising an assassination squad?”
“It’s a misunderstanding.”
“Really…?”
Enrique looked around blankly. From very young ones to those about to graduate,
little ones wandered about, but there was no sound of footsteps. Even in her
organization, such discipline was hard to find. Enrique let out a disappointed laugh.
“If you have a special curriculum, share it with me. I also want kids like them.”
“Just provide a regular lifestyle and a nutritionally balanced diet.”
“You’re talking crazy, you son of a bitch.”
Enrique chuckled and resumed walking, then stopped again.
“What’s that? Is it a demon?”
“That’s right.”
“Enough…! Do you really know that if this gets exposed, you, him, and this place will
all die?”
“I know.”
Ivan shrugged. In the distance, Icarus was teaching something to the kids.
One of the kids ran up to him and drove a fist into his side. It was a remarkable thing.
A melee backstabbing surprise on a centurion who had been rolling on the
battlefield for thirty years.
The child cheered and ran off again, disappearing from sight in an instant.
“Everyone deserves a chance to live like a human.”
Listening to Ivan’s words, Enrique squinted. Ironically, for a topic about embracing
demons, the children were attempting to launch another surprise attack against
Icarus.
“We’re here.”
Ivan silently opened the door to the director’s office. The dimly lit room behind the
curtain was dark.
Enrique was about to take a step forward but stopped. Thin tripwires extended just
in front of her.
Dozens of them. Like spiderwebs, they were revealed in a single ray of sunlight
through the curtain.
“What is all this…?”
Even without light, vampires have a sense of the shadow. It means that indoor spaces
cannot be concealed with blackout curtains.
Tripwires, well, you can overlook them as obsessive security measures.
But this.
“Seriously, what have you been doing with your life?”
Ivan dismantled the tripwires without saying a word. Undoing the traps hanging on
each line, he touched the lights in the corners of the director’s office.
Click, and the magical lamps emitted a blue light, illuminating the room.
The interior was a mess.
Dozens of stacks of documents. Someone’s profile written densely in neat

handwriting. Notes with names and the red thread connecting them.
In this entangled web, inevitably inserted notes revealed ordinary dialogues—

ordinary, yet not the kind that should be present. Engaging in conversation,
predicting tone, making inferences about the meaning and changes in tone, and
deducing the origin of the speaker based on the tone. Even when tracking
international criminals under the Red Alert of the Intelligence Headquarters, this
level of effort wouldn’t be expended, and all of this was done by him—alone, without
sleep for days.
Enrique’s face gradually hardened. This situation, this appearance, this behavior—all
of it was familiar to her. This was a trace of some mental illness, a kind close to panic
attacks, perhaps even longer. Among those who spent a long time on the battlefield,
it’s occasionally seen, not a very common kind but precarious like a time bomb. Even
now, in Frechenkaya, there are streets filled with drug addicts who, among combat
veterans, roam around in such a state.
Enrique took a deep breath.
“Ivan.”
“Yeah.”
“Sit down.”
Ivan’s face remained expressionless. It seemed clear what kind of face he was
making under that dense beard. Naturally, he seemed completely oblivious to
anything abnormal.
“When was the last time you slept?”
“…About a week ago, it seems.”
The last time he slept, he was having a nightmare between the stacks of documents.
It was a truly dreadful feeling, and since then, he deliberately refrained from
sleeping—one might call it superhuman willpower. But Enrique looked at him with a
bitter gaze.
“Tell me. What is all this? Until Dmitri asked me to check on you, I thought you were
trying to protect the kids.”
It seemed obvious since he only seemed to be chasing after hero party members, and
that was appreciated. It meant that even after retirement, he was genuinely
concerned about the kids, willing to step up personally. But the traces seen here
suggested otherwise.
“Who are you trying to catch? The terrorist from Jan’s University?”
“No.”
“Tell me. Just be honest. I can tell by now; you’re hiding something. Tell me
everything, my disciple.”
Enrique tightly held Ivan’s hand and looked into his eyes with a somber expression.
For someone who had lived for over a century, there was as much persuasiveness in
the weight of time. Ivan met her desperate gaze, sighed, and after a moment, his
mouth opened.
It was a grand confession.
If, by some chance, there is such a person—someone who left the place they lived,
leaving behind all familiar faces and landed in an entirely new world, just like that.
So, for example— as if falling into a world from a novel they liked so much, staying
up all night reading, and dozing off, only to find themselves dropped into that novel’s
world in their dream.
No matter how hard they try, the dream doesn’t wake up, and the world still feels
like a story from the novel. Not wanting to die or wanting to go back, they try
everything they can. Fortunately, they seem to have talents that allow them to adapt
well. After experiencing everything until the last page of the novel, such a person
might think: Why doesn’t it end?
Maybe there are different conditions. If suicide is the most plausible solution,
considering it for a few years while observing the situation. In the meantime, one
person suddenly appears, perhaps an outsider from the same hometown.
Now they think something like this: Is this world really nothing more than a world in
a novel? Are all the things I’ve experienced just the prologue of a novel? Does that
person’s novel even have my name on one page? If so, what if. If you were to meet
your end, what form would it take? Tragedy? Comedy? No, before that. Am I and my
life just a prelude to a single line of history? Merely characters waiting to be brought
to life in a newly unfolding story.
Such thoughts. Increasingly chaotic, yet with a gaze filled with certainty, he
continued to face his mentor, even explaining it in a way that an old-fashioned
person from the pre-modern era could understand, with as much kindness as
possible.
“So… to summarize… you’re actually a reincarnator.”
“Yeah.”
“And you recently confirmed that there’s one more.”
“Yeah.”
“And you need to kill that guy.”
“…Yeah.”
“Well, disciple, your logic is surprisingly sound.”

Enrique sighed deeply, splashed some cold water on her face, and leaned against the
sofa for a moment, gazing at the ceiling. For goodness’ sake, even the ceiling had
notes stuck on it. It was a wonder how they were attached.
“I have a lot to say, but I should start with an apology. I thought you both were
Climber of Demon King’s Tower.” She had spent so much time with this boy that she
had naturally assumed he had also climbed the tower.
“The Demon King’s Tower?”
“Yeah. Strangely, we all thought both of you as part of the same party, but thinking
about it, it wasn’t the case. We didn’t even mention it because we assumed it was
something you already knew.” It was Enrique’s mistake. In fact, it was everyone’s
mistake. Excusing it by saying they didn’t know his condition was meaningless. It
was tantamount to neglecting him, despite calling him a disciple.
“Max isn’t a Tylessian.”
“Does that mean he’s from a different country? But…”
“No. Listen to me first. Max… Maximilian. That guy is not from this world.” Enrique
looked Ivan straight in the eyes, enunciating each word as if trying to carve them into
his mind.
“You’re not the first. You won’t be the last either.”
Despite casually referring to him as a “reincarnator” following this guy’s words more
comfortably, to be more accurate, these were not reincarnators but rather “those
who were drawn.”
In other words, individuals who popped up here and there, one or two at a time,
whenever the world tilted a bit, like seasoning added to a chaotic world. They
weren’t a common occurrence, but a couple would inevitably emerge over a century.
These individuals emerged and disappeared, doing “something” in the chaotic world,
trying to spice things up, and then vanishing. Enrique knew such individuals. She
had even seen some of them. Maximilian, that guy, was also one of them. A common
person who yearned for their hometown but, impressively, headed towards the
battlefield.
So, Enrique, even as a vampire herself, had followed his lead. He was that kind of
person. Standing in front of everyone with a smile, making everyone follow him. A
hero, a warrior, a demon king slayer, and just an ordinary man. The foreigner who
remained lonely until the end. Now, he had disappeared. That man was remembered
by Enrique as such. The brave foreigner who drew his sword to protect a common
girl he took in from Tylesse. A courageous stranger.
“That’s why we don’t say that heroes are ‘born,’ do we? We say they ‘appeared.'”
Maximilian was a reincarnator. In fact, there were more.
That’s not the point; what happened to them?
The hero disappeared. He went into hiding somewhere in the deep mountains of
Tylesse, abandoning his wife and daughter.
No one could understand it. But Ivan thought he could. That’s…
“Did he go back…?”
Ivan lowered his head with a pale face.
Could he go back? Was the condition killing the Demon King? What about me… what’s
my condition…?
-Crack—!
His vision brightened, and his head jerked. The pain came after. Ivan felt his numb
cheek and turned his gaze.
Enrique was looking at him with sad eyes.
“Get a grip, boy. We’re not done talking.”
“…Enrique.”
“Yeah. You recognize me. Good.”
Enrique sighed as she buried herself deep in the sofa.

This guy is not getting enough sleep. No, he’s not getting enough rest. I just realized
why.
It’s not a matter of mental illness caused by the war. This guy is now alienated. He
recognizes this place as reality while at the same time wishing it wasn’t reality.
Therefore, he could not have rested. He must have been lonely for a long time. He must
have chewed on the loneliness of every night and been tormented by the ideal of every
day.
Reincarnators. Wanderers who were ‘brought’ from another world. Enrique felt
sorry for these people. Especially in the case of this taciturn and twisted madman.
She looked her disciple straight in the eye and slowly spoke.
“They all say they brought their own stories. There are very few records left, but it
was the case in most cases. Some had stories, some had legends or myths, some had
novels, sometimes they were plays, and there were also cases where they described
something else.”
“…They were all different…?”
“Yes. As I said, they had their own stories.”
There is no commonality in what story led them.
But they all felt that they had fallen into the story they longed for.
It is impossible to grasp how, or in what way, this happened.
“They… what kind of ending did the reincarnators meet…?”
This was the most important question that Ivan was holding. What fate was in store
for him?
“Some disappeared again, some died, and others remained.”
“The hero, Maximilian?”
“As you know, he went into hiding. Well, I don’t know if he’s gone back, or if there
was another reason. I can’t go and ask him, and I have no way to meet him.”
Ivan lowered his head with a dizzying feeling.
Everyone has a different story, everyone has a different ending… what is his ending?
Is it to be forever trapped in this world? Is there no way back? He want to believe
that death is not the only ending…
Thump!
Enrique banged the desk. As Ivan raised his head, she looked at him with sad eyes.
“So, how do you see us?”
“…What?”
“In your world, are we just peripheral characters in a novel? In your worlds, do we
just end up as ‘characters’ consumed by lines of text?”
“That’s…”
“No. That can’t be. It goes without saying, right?”
In a world where a million stories are intertwined, if there are a million protagonists.
Does the protagonist have to see the other protagonist as a supporting role?
No, no. They are all simply the protagonists of their own stories. So then…
“Then are your world and this world fundamentally different worlds? Is that place
reality and this place just a fragment of a story? No. I am alive, breathing, I hate
sunlight, I hate blessings, I drink blood, and I enjoy tea, just like you.”
“Enrique…”
“Maybe you think you’re just a supporting character? Don’t say ridiculous things! You
are the protagonist of your life, and I am the entirety of mine!”
Her eyes were burning as if they were about to devour Ivan.

Ivan looked at her face quietly.
“You don’t want to be a supporting role, right? Then how do you think of us? What
did you think of me? Ivan. Little Ivan. Did you live thinking that the king you
respected was just a supporting role in a story? Did you laugh inside while saying ‘Do
not mourn those who have left first’?”
“No, I would never…”
“Then live. Live your story and end your story. The ending that the story will meet is
not something that fate or the world decides. That’s something you have to decide.”
At the end of each story, there is a different ending.
The direction that leads to that ending is not necessarily due to a predetermined
destiny.
Even if the journey of the hero party has become a legend, each individual is not a
hero in the legend. They are just ordinary individuals who are still alive and
breathing.
Enrique held Ivan’s hand tightly and looked at him with straight eyes.
“Do you want to go back? To your hometown?”
“…Yes.”
“Then don’t wait for fate to end your story. Disciple. Turn your page with your own
hands. All the way. To the end.”
“At the end, is there anything I can decide?”
“The choice to turn the page is entirely up to you. Like everyone else. Like all the
people in this world and your world.”
The hero, Maximilian, always laughed. He always smiled and took one step forward.
Thinking back to that time when hope was so scarce, Enrique thought quietly.
He missed his hometown. He missed his lover and parents who would be in his
hometown. Every time he heard about his comfortable life and mysterious
civilization, Enrique felt sorry for him.
Poor wanderer. Wanderer of the dimension. Stranger.
But the hero laughed. He said that normalcy means the same thing in that world and
this world.
So he wasn’t a wanderer or a stranger, but an ordinary person.
With countless burdens on his shoulders, he took one step forward. One step
forward again to achieve what he believed was ‘normalcy’.
One step at a time towards the darkest hell of the continent where hope had
disappeared.
One step forward, willingly becoming a lighthouse for those who did not have the
courage to go ahead.
His courage was in his belief in normalcy and ordinariness. That’s why he became a
hero. Regardless of any privileges, talents, or qualities. Endlessly continuing what he
believes is normalcy.
To those who say it is extraordinary, he laughed. He is just a person who does the
work that anyone else can do.
“If I had met you a little earlier… If I had listened to your story a little more seriously,
it wouldn’t have turned out this way… I’m sorry, disciple.”
“Enrique…”
“I’ll stand guard. Get some sleep.”
“Sleep?”
“I can see that you haven’t been able to sleep properly because you couldn’t feel at
ease anywhere. At least for four years. If it was longer, it would have been your whole
life.”
There was no bedroom in this room.

This guy must have just slept on that desk or that sofa every time.
While worrying about what if the protagonist in this world suddenly eliminates the
supporting role one day. What if the story ends in a situation where he can’t do
anything.
While being arrogant that he himself should not be a supporting role, even though he
thought of others as supporting roles. And yet believing that he was never the
protagonist.
“If necessary, I will stand guard every night.”
Ivan did not refuse. He was too tired.
Kim Sunwoo closed his eyes quietly.
He made a mistake. This world is not a strategy simulation or a royal RPG. It could
have been someone else’s story, but it wasn’t his own story.
Not a soldier in a strategy simulation. Not a scout for a party of heroes. The story of
Ivan Petrovich, Kim Sunwoo, did not even unfold the first chapter.
30 years have passed since the prologue.
Now the prologue of the story is over. The name of this story is not “genre”, but “life”.
Perhaps it’s an academy work. Ivan laughed as he reflected on his situation.
He was no longer angry at that sentence.
He was too tired and tired to be angry.
The hand patting his shoulder was warm.
He felt relieved.
***
It was a day when Kim Sunwoo was 16 years old, and he had been rolling around on
the battlefield for two years.
Kim Sunwoo rolled on the floor, gritting his teeth. Because the sword he received as a
supply broke. The bullets were all gone, and the demons finally broke through the
line of defense.
When the sword broke, he picked up a spear by rummaging through the floor, and
when the spear shaft broke, he slammed it down with a shield. He took the axe and
swung the great sword to hold on.
He himself had never thought he could fight like this. He was surprisingly skilled at
using his body, and he didn’t feel tired easily.
Of course, it seemed that he was forgetting his fatigue thanks to the adrenaline that
was bursting out violently at the moment.
Considering his athletic ability, he should have been exhausted and collapsed by now.
However, Ivan rolled on the floor and picked up the sword. He picked up the spear.
He swung the axe and pushed it with the shield.
How much time has passed like that?
My body is still moving. My vision was still clear. The only sounds I could hear were
my own breathing and the sound of my heart that felt like it was about to burst, and
my nose had long forgotten any other smell except the smell of blood.
He just lived by blocking, pushing away, and swinging the things that came his way.
When silence came at some point, Kim Sunwoo noticed the giant shadow that was
already covering him.
“You fought well.”
A thick voice rang out from above his head. When he turned his head, he saw a
military flag. The military flag of Krasilov.
It’s an ally. Kim Sunwoo lowered his shoulders and bowed his head.
The man was riding a horse, so he must be someone important. Since he was under
the military flag, he must be the commander.
“What is your name?”

“My name is Ivan Petrovich, sir.”
“How old are you?”
“I am sixteen.”
“Your position?”
“I am a conscript.”
The man, with his back to the sun, had his face hidden. His appearance, with the
sunlight shining like a halo, was blinding.
“Turn around.”
He followed the commander’s orders and turned around. Ivan thought he was telling
him to go back to the main camp.
His eyes were filled with so many corpses that he couldn’t see the ground. Countless
bodies, both demons and humans.
When Kim Sunwoo was about to frown, he heard a voice that seemed to comfort him.
“Look up. Look at those who are standing.”
Only then did he see others. Not corpses, but people.
Survivors. The wounded, the ones who were barely standing with their broken
spears, the ones who were shaking and somehow still alive.
“Originally, this campaign was destined for defeat. The situation demanded shifting
forces to other fronts.”
“…Long live Your Majesty!!”
The commander’s words caused the attendant behind him to scream. The burly man
continued speaking without a care.
“But they survived. Ivan Petrovich, look at those you have saved. Stand tall. You have
saved them, and the villages behind them, and the families and residents of those
villages somewhere.”
The commander got off his horse and stroked his head. It was a big hand.
“So stand tall. ‘Little’ Ivan.”
“…I am not little.”
He was taller than the average height of this era. He had become to the point where
the inspector thought of him as an adult.
“When I was your age, I fought like you and earned the name ‘Great Ivan.’ I dare not
be called by the same name as me.”
“Long Live Your Majesty…!!”
The attendant screamed again. The man with the big hands patted Ivan on the back
once and then got back on his horse.
“Treat this child and teach him.”
“Will you take him in?”
“I’d rather raise a lion in a zoo. Just make room for him. If he reaches a position
where he can stand on his own, won’t you see him again?”
The commander rode away, leaving Kim Sunwoo standing there in shock.
Kim Sunwoo, who had been called “Little Ivan” by the commander, felt a strange
sense of excitement and pride. He knew that he had done something great, even if he
didn’t know what it was. He was determined to live up to the commander’s
expectations and become a true hero.
It was five years later that he met the man again.
Five years later, he was assigned to the “Royal Guard.”
After that, he was called “Little” Ivan. It was a very honorable title.
***
Ivan did not have nightmares that night.
Since he had seen the late king for the first time in a long time, Ivan was able to fall
into a deep sleep.
***
[“???-Rank Quest” The Gardener of St. Jan’s University -Cancelled-]
[Your miraculous luck has stopped your dice. You have survived.]
[Goal: Kill Ivan Petrovich, the gardener of St. Jan’s University -Cancelled-]
[Optional Goal: Persuade Ivan Petrovich -Cancelled-]
[Optional Goal: Conceal information -Cancelled-]
[Additional Goal: Survive -Cancelled-]
[Failure Penalty: Death -Cancelled-]
“What the hell is this? Really, what the hell is this…! Give me an explanation!!”
Eugene screamed as he stared at the blue light display.
Of course, this damn status bar didn’t give him any answer.
Saint Jan’s University has no garden. As mentioned before, this is an important point,
so it should be emphasized twice.
Therefore, even after somehow holding the pair of secateurs prepared by the
administrative office, Ivan had nothing to do.
However, Ivan, who had now decided to live his life, or at least tried his best, had no
other choice.
This is the story of when he was cutting down a tree with secateurs.
“What are you trying to do? You’re making it worse than the bonsai in my house.”
“Hmm?”
Enrique snickered from behind him. Ivan looked up at the sky and at the tree for a
moment, then turned back to look at Enrique.
“Isn’t it bedtime?”
“Are you surprised to see a beauty who is not a sleepyhead? You must be really tired.”
(TN: It’s daytime btw, Enrique is a vampire)
Ivan, a normal person who has never felt unexpected affection for someone over 70,
lowered his head at Enrique’s words.
Enrique’s eyebrows furrowed. She took a deep breath and said,
“Your job is a gardener?”
“For now.”
“It certainly sounds like a good thing for your mental health. It’s not bad, but my
prescription is a little different.”
Elizaveta probably thought she would take care of this bearded monster’s (30s)
mental health as a leisurely activity and give some pocket money.
But Enrique thought differently. This guy needed practice interacting with people.
Not with axes or guns, of course. Strictly speaking, that’s included too. But in any
case, it’s about normal human relationships.
“Follow me. I needed some help.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m starting as a guest lecturer in the Knight’s Faculty today. I was already an
honorary professor, but I was so bored.”
“Knight?”
“Unfortunately, there is no assassin faculty.”
Of course, the world doesn’t need a university that teaches such things.
This is why Ivan found himself glaring at the freshmen in front of the podium.
Episode 23. The Saint and the Lumberjack
Saint Jan’s University is an internationally renowned university with state-of-the-art

facilities for this era.
Examples include the Faculty of Theology, which looks like a church that has been
moved intact, the Faculty of Magic, which mimics the environment of the Kalion
Military Academy, and the Faculty of Physical Education, the Knight’s Faculty.
The freshmen were busy looking around with their mouths open. They looked like
chicks, which reminded Enrique of the old days, and she laughed.
In the gym, where large rings and various training equipment were neatly arranged,
Enrique, who had climbed onto the podium, struck the lectern with a loud bang and
shouted,
“Welcome, kids!”
As if to assert her dominance, the freshmen began to look at the professor they had
never seen before.
The Knight’s Faculty required course, [Understanding Melee Combat 1].
It would be an important course, as it is a required course for all freshmen in the

Knight’s Faculty, but the slender woman looked unfamiliar.
The students who were trying to remember the faculty list could be heard
murmuring.
Enrique grinned and puffed out her chest.
“My name is Enrique. Enrique Sergeevna. If you think you’ve heard the name, that’s
right. It’s me.”
“Member of Hero Party!!”
“Eek!!”
“Shadow Blade!!”
Enrique laughed as she heard the scattered screams and cheers. Yes, that’s it. This is
what fame is. This name value that even the royal family dare not trifle with.
Enrique continued with a playful smile on her face.
“The only thing I can teach you this semester is one thing. Defeat! You are the ones
who have chosen to fight at the forefront with weapons, and this class is the first
gateway to preparing for that!”
A warrior with a sword can never win every fight. Defeat will inevitably come one
day. And that defeat often comes with death.
Therefore, you must get used to it. To defeat. It must be learned before learning the
skills of fighting.
How to defeat. How to survive even after defeat.
And if possible, how to assess the opponent’s strength before defeat.
“It’s not difficult to teach all of you one by one, but the class time is too tight. So I’ll
divide you into groups according to your skills.”
Even though they are all freshmen, they cannot all take the same class.
Of course, it is impossible to teach a student who entered first place and a student
who entered with a reserve number at the same level, is it not?
The better you fight, the harder the class you should take.
Therefore, division is necessary. It would be too difficult to teach 50 people in three

hours in the first place.
“Well, freshmen. If I fight with you, I won’t be able to assess your skills. They’ll all be
over in one move.”
Even to her arrogant words, no one dared to refute.
The Hero Party is the one who slaughtered the Demon King and the Seven Dragon
Lords. In other words, they are the strongest in the United Kingdom.
“So I’ll implement eye-level education for you. Here is our assistant!”
When the students followed Enrique’s gesture, they soon saw a monster standing
with his arms crossed in the shadows.
Sapphire glowing eyes, sharp features, and a stoic expression.
But a beard that covers the entire lower jaw, making it impossible to tell his age.
In addition, old work clothes and a towel around his neck. (It was a gardening set
prepared by the administrative office in a hurry.)
When a big question mark appeared above the students’ heads, Enrique grinned and
said.
“The assistant is this university’s gardener. I invited him in a hurry this morning.
Well, I’ll tell you the profile of this assistant.”
Age is 34. (Most of the students were shocked by this.)
Title is gardener. (Two students were shocked by this.)
No income, living on the country’s welfare pension, a poor pauper. (Since Lieutenant
Colonel Petrovich was officially dead, he had no way to receive a military pension. He
lived off donations while running an orphanage.)
“This assistant will assess your skills. I will score you while watching you fight, and I
will finalize the division at the end of this class.”
“I have a question!”
A student raised his hand. He was dressed neatly in a light tracksuit with a neat-
looking face. He looked like a nobleman’s son.
Enrique nodded, and the young man spoke with a sneer on his face.
“What if that poor gardener is too badly injured?”
“What? Ahahahahaha!!”
Enrique burst into laughter with tears in her eyes.
“Then I should give you a prize! I’ll give you extra points depending on how badly
you injured the assistant! Ahahahahaha! My goodness!”
“…?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, students. I’m not doing this because I want to see someone
die. But at least maintain some courtesy. Whether it’s courtesy towards seniors or
those who have experienced more than you.”
“If you want to live,” Enrique finished with a laugh.

—
During that time, Ivan was glaring at the students.
It was not surprising that he was invited to be an assistant for the practical
evaluation.
After all, it is “common sense” for the first class of the academy to be a skill
evaluation.
It’s unknown why a practical evaluation is included in the first hour of the college
curriculum, but that’s probably because the educational system in this pre-modern
fantasy world is primitive.
Anyway, there are four worth paying attention to.
Oscar, Isabelle, Yuri, and the muscle giant sitting in the back. The escort of Ecdysis.
Wait, why is that guy sitting? Is he a student? Is he shameless?
It’s bizarre to have a 40-year-old muscle monster sitting among students who are
about half his age.
That guy’s name is probably Mord, right? Mord Erikson. I remember meeting him
during my service. He is one of King Einar’s closest aides.
He must have been a guy with some sense. Now, retired and coming in as a ‘freshman.’
“And that kid.”
Yuri. Yuri Frank. The top freshman in the Knight’s Faculty. Highest in swordsmanship
evaluation and a perfect score on the written test. Full scholarship student.
That kid’s behavior is also suspicious.
As soon as he saw her, the kid showed strange behavior, such as quickly turning her
gaze away, sweating, or fidgeting. (She even gasped when she heard the word
gardener.)
His eyes grew sharper.

‘Reincarnator… ’
If not, there is no reason to be afraid of him, who has a completely ordinary and
harmless appearance.
Two red underlines were drawn on Ivan’s mind.
“Well, who wants to go first?”
After Enrique’s long explanation, the many students began to look at each other.
It is understandable. It would be quite embarrassing for a young man in his early

twenties to reveal himself among students he had just met.
It is not that they lack skills or fear being humiliated by facing Ivan. It’s just that
they’re shy.
How ridiculous.
Ivan silently glared at the students.
Then, one student sitting in the back raised his hand.
It was the 40-year-old muscle giant, Mord.
“We meet again, don’t we?”
“…Hmm.”
“And no matter how I look at you, you look like someone I know.”
Mord laughed heartily, loosening his shoulders.
“Come on up. Let’s finish this. Oh, and. If I win.”
Mord jumped up to the ring in one leap and said.
“I’ll shave you.”
“Fight! Mr. Erikson!!”

Isabelle, who had been looking at Ivan with trepidation, gasped and suddenly
shouted.
It was a bitter betrayal by the child of the Hero Party.

Ivan walked slowly towards the ring. His footsteps were ordinary, but their silence
caught the attention of the students.
The students’ initial impression was simple: “He’s a guy who knows how to create a
mood.”
The students didn’t think much of Ivan when he drew his axe from his waist. After
all, this was the Knight Department.
In most cases, students are caught up in the formula that the sword is the cure-all.
This is mostly true.
It is easy to wear and has wide versatility, and it is also well-suited for delicate
techniques.
However, an axe is simple. This is because the center of gravity is concentrated in the
head of the axe. Therefore, the direction of the axe attack must always be
unidirectional.
In other words, it means that it is easy to read and break the trajectory. Therefore,
most students looked down on axes.
“Enrique.”
Ivan spoke quietly while standing still on the ring. His voice was heavy.
“What is allowed?”
“Don’t kill him. There’s a saint here, after all.”
Patricia, the saint of the hero’s party, is currently the head of the theology
department at this university. This means that there is always a trauma specialist
who is better than a healing potion on standby.
“Good.” Ivan nodded.

“Ericsson.” (Ivan)
“As I thought, seeing you at this distance, I can see the face of that time.” (Ericson)
“If I win, you will do volunteer work.”
“…What?”
This guy is an intelligence agent from the kingdom of Drovian. On the surface, he is a
freshman in the Knight Department, and externally, he is a personal bodyguard to
Ecdysis. However, its essence means that it can be a spy for Einar the Great.
In other words, this guy can always join the princess or crown prince faction in the
position of an “unofficial diplomat.” This guy is a variable.
Therefore, it is necessary to keep his feet tied until Ecdysis’s course of action is
confirmed. The easiest way is to keep him close.
All the time after school, except for the time when he has to be by Ecdysis’s side.
“I’ll make you wash the laundry at the orphanage.”
Volunteer work is good for character education. This is an undeniable truth. Caring
for orphans is a great help in character building.
Therefore, this is an opportunity to teach “civilization” to this Drovian Berserker

Hulskar.
“Bullshit.”
“Come on.”
Ivan raised his axe. Now, the two warriors (average age 40s, first-year university
practice class) did not need to talk.
When the two men first clashed, the freshmen were somewhat taken aback. What is
this? Why are they fighting so well?
-Kwaang—!!
Next. When the two axes clashed, sending sparks flying at each other, the freshmen
were shocked. What is that? How are they moving like that over there? Did I just see
someone? No one is there?
-Kaaaan! Kwadduk!
Finally, when the strongest freshman (40s) knelt down and gasped, the students
were finally able to see the man standing upright properly.
Two eyes that glowed blue and a blank face.
Such a calm breath that there was no trembling even though it moved so violently.
The students were amazed.
“What is that?”
“He’s a monster!”
“No, he’s not a monster. He’s a god.”
Ivan looked down at the kneeling Ericsson.
“You will do volunteer work.”
Ericsson nodded weakly.
“Yes, sir.”
Ivan turned and walked away.
The students watched him go, their eyes wide with awe.
“Ugh… Petrovych… I wonder… Little Ivan. Ugh…! What are you up to here…?”
“Managing security.”
Ivan passed by Mord, who had turned into a rag.
“Managing…? Security…?” A big question mark appeared in the students’ minds

again.
“Next.”
“Um… Professor, the scope of the exam is too wide. It’s the first class today, you
know…?”
A young man who had trembled at Ivan’s words raised his hand and spoke. It was the
noble young man who had laughed at Ivan at first.
Enrique nodded with a sly smile.
“The next order is set. Come on, we don’t have time. Let’s go quickly.”
“Uh… uh… uh…”
Because no one wanted to get on the ring, the young man, who was dragged onto the
ring with the help of his kind classmates, stepped back with a cold sweat.
“Come.”
Ivan raised his axe.
“Okay, just stab our assistant once and we’ll give you an A+. What do you think? Or
maybe… if you feel like it! One-on-one training from the current beauty instructor of
the Hero Party!”
Ivan didn’t bother to point out the error in Enrique’s last sentence. Because he was a
reasonable person.
Instead, he picked up his axe. Because he was a person who was serious about
training the recruits.
“Next.”
After five corpses (no, not really) were cleared away, no one came up to the ring.
“Hey! If you all give up like this, you’ll all fail the course! Okay? How about this. If you
all get an F and have to retake the class, we’ll start the class like this next year. It’s
better to be hit first, right?”
The students bit their teeth as they looked at Enrique, who was smiling brightly.
Okay. I can’t be sure, but… at least I won’t die.
If we can successfully attack once, a high grade is guaranteed.
It’s a required three-credit major class. It’s obvious that it will have a significant
impact on the average Grade Point, and the Knight School is basically very
competitive.
That’s because they all grew up hearing the words “prodigy of martial arts” and
“genius of swordsmanship” in their neighborhood.
Just once.
Just once!
Even after 30 corpses (no, not really) were cleared away, the freshmen didn’t give up.
“Next.”
And finally, it was Yuri’s turn.
Yuri trembled as she picked up her sword. She had never felt the sword blade so
heavy in her hand in all the time she had held it.
She took a step forward with courage, but then shrank back when she looked at the
man in front of her.
Because there was something that came to mind every time she saw that shabby
work clothes and the old towel around his neck.
“Yuri Frank.”
“Y-yes?”
Ivan stared into Yuri’s eyes. His sharp eyes, which seemed to tear through her mind,
pierced her vision.
Yuri’s pupils shook wildly. Her head was dizzy and her hands were constantly losing
strength.
“Ranked first in the Knight Department.”
“Yes!”
“Yuri?”
“Hm…?”
“Is it Kim Yuri, Park Yuri, or Choi Yuri?”
“Um… wha… what are you saying? I don’t understand what you mean…”
“In Krasilov, Yuri is a male name.”
“Oh, really? Um… well, I have my reasons for that…”
“Come.”
Ivan raised the axe.
“Take your time explaining your reasons.”
“Oh no, no, no. I, I want to withdraw. Is that okay? I’ll just fail! I’ll fail, it’s fine!
Kyaaaah!”
Before Yuri could release the sword, Ivan lunged at her.
Instinctively, she raised the sword to deflect the axe blade, and Yuri forcefully
swallowed the scream bursting out.
It’s winding around. Like a snake…! The axe blade seemed like it would tear into her
throat any moment, rising along the edge of the sword!
-Kaaang!
It was an attacking style already witnessed until the preceding students became
punching bags. However, it was an onslaught that simply couldn’t be accustomed to.
Ivan’s axe seemed to reach a different level.
Each swing wasn’t heavy. Mord Erickson was more intense in that regard. But it was
fast. The moment you realized, it was already entwined in a counter.
Proficient in utilizing the axe. Not just swinging it, but striking the blade, using
centrifugal force to connect again, chopping down, and immediately pushing forward
in a diagonal line.
-Kaadddduk!!
Using the curves of the axe head, he pulled the sword, twisted the handle to extract
the blade. If you missed the sword in that shock, it was over.
Ivan looked down at the kneeling Yuri and nodded.
“You fight well.”
“Th-thank you…”
“I’ll keep an eye on you. Next.”
Yuri descended beneath the ring with her weakened legs. Although miraculously
unharmed, it was merely the feeling that the strange creature had spared her.
She looked at Ivan with a terrified expression, then tightly shut her eyes.
***
“What’s with Kim-Park-Choi! Huh, Korean? Is he Korean?”
Yuri was an illustrator.
Her last project was an outsourcing task for an adult game from the Nungyok
Academy.
Called [Huijak 3].
It involved escaping from a very severe, very severe gardener who takes advantage
of students’ weaknesses.
The gardener was a middle-aged man with a towel around his neck and wearing old
work clothes.
And now she found herself right in that damn world. Right after staying up all night
to send the first rough draft of the outsourcing project.
In a world where the bearded gardener with an axe was eyeing female students
(misunderstanding) greedily.
“If I’m caught… I’ll suffer something… extremely… extreme!”
She trembled, recalling how the ‘students’ who had weaknesses were turned into
something. The ‘gardener’ was watching her.
Even knowing her trends and that she was a fellow reincarnator, she might change
genres through some means of coercion.
She… is the protagonist… Well, being an orphan and a full scholarship student, a
genius in swordsmanship. How could an illustrator who had drawn pictures all her
life end up like this?
Of course, she must be the protagonist…
She just wants to go home.
***
Isabelle withstood three rounds, and Oscar withstood two.
Looking at the rankings, it seemed to be Mord, Yuri, Isabel, Oscar in order. Since
Mord wasn’t originally a student, let’s say it was decided within the range he had in
mind.
The eyes haven’t gotten used to it yet. Ivan thought so and nodded satisfactorily.
“Are you smiling now?” (Enrique)
“It’s a misunderstanding.” (Ivan)
“But it seems like you’re smiling?”

“I originally have a smiling face.”
“Crazy…! Idiot…!”
At the sound coming directly from the front, Ivan had to control his expression again.
Beside him was Enrique, holding his hands up. Enrique was trying to stifle laughter
while holding back tears.
Ivan, being a sensible person, didn’t react to the antics of the elderly teacher.
While Yuri was terrified, at that moment, Ivan and Enrique were scolded by the
saint.
It was the price for accommodating 50 patients in the theology department office.
“The dean’s office is not a clinic.”
The Saint dropped some weird words. Ivan tilted his head.
In the place called a clinic, they would still apply healing potions to external injuries,
or at best, a newly ordained priest would cast a heal spell.
Does it mean that students should experience such a terrible experience even though
there is a Saint?
Seeing Ivan’s face, the Saint pounded her chest in frustration. (Ivan didn’t look away,
even though she was shaking. He was a devout person.)
“No! I’ve got my own work too! Do you know how busy I am? I just got appointed this
year! The workload’s not handed over, and everyone—freshmen, undergrads,
professors—keeps babbling. The course structure is a mess. Why’s the university
like this!” (Partricia)
“Um.”
“Um.”
Ivan and Enrique nodded as they watched the Saint vent about the medieval
curriculum.
They couldn’t say much, but they had to agree at first.
Ivan turned away from the poor religious person who was diligently lamenting her
situation. The department head’s office had a quiet charm.
It was unclear if it was the previous head’s taste or the Saint’s, but there were tons of
plants.
Ivan, not much of a botanist, killed time by grabbing a plant’s leaves. (He’s a
gardener.)
-Tock.
The orchid leaf snapped off. It broke cheerfully because it was the thickest and most
beautiful stem.
Ivan turned without changing his expression. Fortunately, the Saint seemed not to
notice. She was talking to Enrique about the class, still fuming.
Was it Brave New World? There was a similar scene in that noir movie. He turned the
pot expressionlessly. The pot turned around to hide the broken leaf.
“Okay, I get you’re having a hard time, Patty. I was wrong.” (Enrique)
“Why don’t you take this opportunity to convert? I will always be waiting for you
with an open heart, Enrique.” (Patricia)
“That’s not converting, that’s death…”
The Saint, closest to heaven in this world after the Pope, crushed Enrique with divine
power. It seemed Enrique’s body had shrunk a bit.
Enrique cautiously said, in a submissive posture, “Um. Hmm. Oh, right. Patty, listen,
don’t be surprised. I came to say something, but I forgot. Listen to me.” (Enrique)
“Yes, before you say anything, tell me it’s less surprising than 50 freshmen in critical
condition.” (Patricia)
Enrique laughed, opening his mouth.
“This guy was dragged here.” (Enrique)
“Yeah, I’m aware. When the orphanage director turned gardener, I was considering
paying Elize a visit. What’s she doing with a retired man?” (Patricia)
“No, you idiot. He was dragged here. Like Max. From another world.” (Enrique)
“Cough?!” (Patricia)
The Saint spit out tea and blinked. She coughed, then finally straightened.
“Why did you tell me this now…?” (Patricia)
“He thought he was the only one. Not the type for counseling.” (Enrique)
“Oh my God…” (Patricia)
The Saint looked at Ivan, swallowing. She spoke in a trembling voice.
“How lonely he must have been… He grew a beard because of that shock… Poor
Brother Cyril…” (Patricia)
“No. That’s not the reason.” (Ivan)
“It’s okay. It’s all okay…” (Patricia)
The Saint smiled, taking Ivan’s hand. Her divine power flowed through Ivan’s veins. It
was warm.
Even as Enrique fainted, the Saint smiled warmly at Ivan.
“It’s okay, brother… You’re not strange. Many like you, and there’ll be more. Oh, Lord.
Guide this poor lamb…
“I feel strange and awkward in this situation right now.” (Ivan)
“That’s understandable. That’s understandable… The hero was the same way…”
(Patricia)
She recalled the day she was moved to tears learning he retired to run an orphanage.
This young man, despite a war-filled childhood, grew strong and kind, caring for
unfortunate children.
Wasn’t that the Lord’s work?
The Saint supported Ivan’s retirement, donating each year. She even named the
orphanage!
Look at Ivan now.

Orphanages are poor, with directors often exploiting orphans. But this man… works
hard for his income, wearing dirty clothes and wiping sweat with a burnt towel.
Clearly, it’s to raise the children more abundantly, isn’t it?
“Oh, my…” (Patricia)
Even from another world, even for “alien” orphans unrelated to him…
How could it be?
The Saint’s cheeks reddened.
“Brother Cyril…” (Patricia)
“I’d prefer if you didn’t call me that.” (Ivan)
“I like your baptismal name.” (Patricia)
“I was too young when I decided on it.” (Ivan)
Ivan withdrew his hand, glancing at Enrique, who was making a playful expression.
The Saint made the sign of the cross and put her hand on her chest.
“I thought you were gay, Brother.” (Patricia)
“Cough…!” (Enrique)
Enrique choked and pounded her chest.
“Well, if you think about how coldly you rejected those people, it’s only natural.”
(Patricia)
“…There were circumstances.” (Ivan)
“Of course, of course.” (Patricia)
Royal guards couldn’t be personally intimate with nobles or influential people. When
known as “Little” Ivan, a hot commodity in the marriage market, he was also a royal
guard.
His goal was to return to Earth. How could he play a love game?
That feeling hasn’t changed much. The only change is he’s no longer a hot
commodity.
“It was because of the vow, wasn’t it? The gospel vows of poverty, purity, and
obedience when baptized.” (Patricia)
The three virtues vowed at baptism: poverty, purity, and obedience.
Ivan’s appearance is humble, over thirty without rumors, pure, and having given up
fame and position.
Such faithfulness is like a picture! The Saint nodded.
“Don’t become a priest. You really won’t be able to get married.” (Patricia)
“…Hmm.” (Ivan)
Ivan sighed. He respected vows but knew he wasn’t a normal man.
He was from another world, and celibacy might not be feasible.
“But if you continue so chastely, maybe… maybe God will bestow His favor. Love
between people is the greatest blessing under heaven.” (Patricia)
“…Hmm…” (Ivan)
“I must go to Brother’s orphanage today. Let’s go together.” (Patricia)
“You said you didn’t finish your work.” (Enrique)
“The only person above me in this school is the president, and the only person above
me in this world is the Lord God. Enrique.”
“Wow.”
Enrique quietly agreed.
***
The Saint is uncomfortable. Ivan realizes this obvious fact again.
Many reasons—battlefield childhood, devoutness, and her being a major orphanage

sponsor.
Equal relationships with purse string holders are impossible. Based on this, Ivan
maintained a distance from sponsors.
“Oh… Lord. Look at this beautiful sight…
The Saint wept as she walked from the entrance of the orphanage. Naturally, the
orphans gathered around her, squealing.
Their faces were full of life, and their cheeks were plump. No sign of poverty
anywhere. The only one in the orphanage who looked the most impoverished was
Ivan…!
The facilities were excellent, and all the doors opened smoothly with clean, well-
oiled hinges. Soft sponges were carefully added to the ends of the corridors and the
corners of the furniture.
Such meticulousness!
The Saint looked at the large graffiti painted in a corner of the orphanage building,
tears welling up in her eyes.
The graffiti, drawn by some playful orphan, was a picture of a bearded monster
frowning as he handed out presents.
The love of the children was so palpable that the Saint finally pressed her eyes and
leaned against the wall.
“You have already become a good father…” (Patricia)
“Oh my God.” (Patricia)
“Originally, the most wonderful thing is the relationship born of the heart. Cyril
Brother… I am too dazzled… Oh Lord…” (Patricia)
“Are you trying to kill me with laughter? Disciple. I’m starting to feel a little
burdened. Can I go now?” (Enrique)
“No.” (Ivan)
Enrique covered her forehead with her hand and groaned in pain.
**Author’s Note (Author’s Commentary):**
The reason Ivan is embarrassed by his baptismal name… can be inferred from
Elizaveta’s name!
(TN:
*Elizaveta Kirillovna Krasilov
Ivan baptism’s name = Cyril
Kirillovna = Cyril’s Love?)

When a suspiciously wealthy foreign benefactor visited the orphanage director’s
office and learned that Ivan didn’t have a bedroom, she made a big fuss before
getting to the point.
The saint calmly listened to Ivan’s story, mostly narrated by Enrique, and then took a
sip of tea.
There are at least one or three possessed individuals in the university.
“This is a strange thing.” (Patricia)
“Huh?” (Enrique)
“Enrique, have you ever heard of it? The ones who are pulled in are said to come out
about two or three in a century.” (Patricia)
“Oh, right?” (Enrique)
“How many are there now?” (Patricia)
The saint put down her tea and clasped her hands quietly.
Her eyes were now as deep as those of a high priest.
“Maximilian, the demon king, and Ivan. So, three. I don’t know if there are any more
in other places, but even then, there would be at most one person I don’t know or at
most two.” (Enrique)
“Uh-huh?” (Ivan)
“That was twenty years ago.” (Patricia)
The time when the demon king, Maximilian, and Ivan appeared.
The time was twenty years ago. Not even a century, let alone a generation, had
passed yet.
“The stories of the demon king and Maximilian are over. The story of Brother Cyril is
not clear, but its conclusion is near. But what if other people appear here again?”
(Patricia)
“Huh? What’s the problem with that?” (Enrique)
“It’s not normal. I served Maximilian, who was a ‘brought one.’ Therefore, I know all
the old records of the ‘brought ones’ in the cathedral.” (Patricia)
About once or twice in a century.
When they appear, they always stand out somewhere.
Eagerly, as if they were trying to create their own narrative.
After finishing the story of their era and disappearing, after the passage of time,
others are brought and turn over a new page.
So, in this era when the demon king is dead and all nations are quiet.
What is the reason for the appearance of a new possessed person?
Even if there are a few nations that still have their military strength after the war
with the demon king, and some minor conflicts that arise from the expansion of
colonies, they are at best a harbinger of danger.
It’s still too early. The world is too devastated to face another war. No nation now has
the resources to dare to launch a full-scale war.
Even if the demon king appears again, will it be a problem? Most of the party of
heroes are still alive, and each country has already prepared to check ‘powerful
individuals.’
In addition, the demons were scattered by race and enslaved or driven out of the
world. Only the remnants that remained in that distant land. They no longer have the
strength to sustain the war.
“You said there were a few people you suspected?” (Patricia)

“Three.” (Ivan)
“Nationality?” (Patricia)
“Two are Krasilov. The other is Kalion.” (Ivan)
“One elf and two humans.” (Ivan)
The saint crossed her arms and thought for a moment.
“All three are students, right?” (Patricia)
“Yes.” (Ivan)
“It hasn’t been verified yet?” (Patricia)
“Hmm.” (Ivan)
“Then we need to verify it.” (Patricia)
The saint nodded her head more readily than expected. She thought Ivan might be
trying to conduct an inquisition, as there had never been a case where the word
“verification” came out of the mouth of a believer without incident.
“Find out who among the suspects are really ‘the brought ones.’ And also find out
what stories those children were brought into. After that, we can now know what
stories are left in our time, right?” (Patricia)
After the stories of the demon king and Maximilian were over, what stories could the
possessed people create in this world? What stories led them?
That was the saint’s plan.
Of course, this world is not a plot like in a game or a novel. No matter what stories
they may have experienced in their ‘other world,’ fictional creations cannot affect the
flow of this world.
But people are different. The people who are influenced by that ‘story’ are different.
What kind of feelings the possessed person has, and what kind of actions the
possessed person plans to take. That much will certainly affect this world.
Just as the demon king, the hero, and the countless possessed people before them
did. The possessed person will inevitably create events, turmoil, and history.
The saint nodded and buried herself in the sofa. After taking another sip of tea, she
suddenly asked this question.
“So, Brother Cyril. What was your story?” (Patricia)
“I don’t know.” (Ivan)
“…Huh? No matter how long ago it was… Well, do you have a story that makes you
feel a strong sense of purpose, or a sense of destiny…?” (Patricia)
There should have been one…? That’s what most possessed people tend to do.
Ivan, who hesitated at the saint’s question, opened his mouth heavily.
“There were too many.” (Ivan)
“Huh…?” (Patricia)
Kim Sunwoo wrote malicious comments on a total of 8 games, 11 webtoons, and

over 30 web novels in his lifetime.
They were of different genres, and it didn’t matter what they were as long as he liked
them.
Ivan explained this carefully. He told the saint that there was a superstition in their
world that ‘if you criticize a writer, you can become a reincarnator.’
A rebellious young man named Kim Sunwoo wanted to become a reincarnator, so he

wrote harsh criticism of all kinds of works, such as a 5,700-word punch of gratitude.
After hearing his calm recollection, Enrique avoided his gaze, and the saint was
speechless for a moment.
“Let’s repent, brother.” (Patricia)
The saint held Ivan’s hand tightly and infused him with her divine power. It was
warm. It was so warm that it stung a corner of his heart.
***
It was March, a season when flowers bloomed and the spring breeze tickled the
heart.
Yevgeny, Eugene, was reading the Bible, brushing his flowing black hair aside. It was
because the damn Bible reading time was approaching.
The theology department and the main hall, which were modeled after a church. The
sight of him sitting on a bench under the green trees while reading a book was a
picture of itself.
Eugene, who had thrown the spark of corruption into the hearts of many novice
nuns, suddenly stopped when he saw a notification flashing in the corner of his
vision.
“Huh?”
[Warning!]
[Warning!]
[Warning!]
“What, what, what is it! Why all of a sudden!! Don’t be a jerk!”
He reflexively shrank his body and looked around. There was no one.
Again. Again. This damn status bar was muttering to itself again without giving any
explanation!
As he was thinking about it, a warning message suddenly popped up. This time, the
thing surprisingly started to explain the situation.
“What is this…?”
[Warning!]
[Survival instinct lv.3]

[Get up from your seat immediately and walk forward.]
[Do not look back.]
[Act naturally.]
[Even if someone calls you…]
First of all, he had to get out of his seat. Even though the status bar was incredibly
unfriendly and useless, it at least didn’t lie.
This concept must be a Neapolitan ghost story. He rubbed his forehead and got up
and started walking naturally.
He was sure that the work he was reincarnated into was [Northern Dukedom
Swordsman Genius Bastard], and this title was reminiscent of the Holy Roman
Empire…
However.
He was not from the Northern Dukedom. He was not a swordsman genius. And he
couldn’t even be a bastard!
He bit his lips. This seemed more like SCP… or something close to a cosmic horror
setting.
At least this damn status bar… No, it’s not a status bar anymore. It’s now called
‘Shitty Bar.’
Eugene bit his teeth and tried to manage his expression. Normally, with a calm face,
he naturally hid his trembling hands in his sleeves. Stomping forward.
“Eugene.” (Ivan)
“Yes?” (Eugene)
Act naturally, naturally.
As he was mumbling that, Eugene suddenly turned his head at the sound of his name
being called from behind.
At least he had to do well in the academy’s reputation. With a warm and faithful
smile.
“As I thought, I was right. Yevgeny is Eugene. China, Japan, Korea. Where did you
come from?” (Ivan)
“!!!!!”
A murderous Santa Claus was glaring at him from behind a tree.
Eugene, glancing at the flashing warning window frantically, slowly and carefully
turned his head.
“Uhn~ uhn. Ah, the weather is so nice.” (Eugene)
He behaved as if he turned around not in response to a call but merely to stretch his
body. He repeatedly glanced at the warning message, pondering whether there were
additional messages or if the frustrating status bar was attempting another narrative
twist.
-Tuk.
A strong hand landed on Eugene’s shoulder.
Ivan stared into his eyes and thought. His eye contact was awkward. It wasn’t just a
sign of being surprised or scared.
Clearly, it was the gaze of someone who was aware of something. Of course, there
was nothing in the direction the boy was looking.
Therefore, the most reasonable inference was that ‘there was something that only
this kid could see.'”
“What do you see?” (Ivan)
He didn’t know if there were any special privileges for possessed people. At least, he
had never received anything like that.
Could Maximilian have been born with some special talent? That is unknown.
But if so.
If there is something special about a “possessed person,” we can make a few rational
inferences based on Kim Sunwoo’s “common sense.”
Status bar, attribute bar, or something similar.
Generally, it appears frequently in early game possession stories. A convenient blue-

colored display augmented reality screen that is visible only to you.
Maybe what he had longed for is visible in the eyes of this kid.
On the other hand, as soon as he heard Ivan’s words, Eugene thought reflexively.
The monster in front of him is definitely another “possessed person.” Probably of

Korean origin.
Damn it. Double protagonist… That’s a shortcut to ruin. Isn’t it too old-school style?
Eugene pretended to be as normal as possible. If another possessed person who had

lived in this world for a longer time than me, would they be more likely to be friendly
or hostile?
At least this man had a history of throwing a stone filled with murderous intent as
soon as he recognized him. In other words, it means that it is a hostile monster.
Eugene’s head spun. He recalled the first quest.
Kill Ivan Petrovich, or conceal information, or persuade.
Death in case of failure.
“Uh, uh, who, who are you… Do you know me…?”
“I intend to find out from now on.”
“If you do this, the department head will not be still…”
“It is an approved matter by Saint Patricia.”

With a loud crash, Eugene’s faith, which had been dwindling from the start,
shattered. She was led away by Ivan’s hand.
[Warning – canceled -]
[Survival instinct lv.3]
[Get up from your seat and walk forward right now. – canceled -]
[Do not look back. – canceled -]
[Act naturally. – canceled -]
[Do not answer anyone who calls you. He is not your ally. – canceled -]
[Leave with the gardener. Do not resist. He is your ally.]
Didn’t you die if you saw this kind of message in a Neapolitan ghost story?
Eugene stared blankly at the status bar and thought.
It was a pleasant March with a warm spring breeze.
***
Looking down at the peaceful scene of the seminary, the saint made the sign of the
cross quietly.
A possessor.
A possessor who had suffered alone for thirty years.
Not knowing his own story, lost in his goals. A possessor who faded away as a
supporting character.
She watched Ivan leaving and silently prayed.
I wish that the taciturn lumberjack would now have a goal in life.
So that, at the end of it, he may have even a handful of happiness in his hands.
“The student you said you needed for the ‘special class’…is first-year magic student
Oswald. Is that right?”
“Yes, that was the name. Is there a problem?”
“Well… there’s nothing really wrong with the child himself. He’s a very diligent and
talented student, but…”
The head of the magic department looked at the saint with a strange expression on
his face.
He was an elf from the Kalion Islands. Until just before the start of the semester, he
was a respected mage active in Kalion.
Elves are few in number. Compared to humans, they are significantly scarce.
Therefore, most descendants of prestigious families know each other very well.
He was no exception. If the student mentioned by the saint was a student who could
come from the distant land, he must have been from a prominent family, so he could
easily recall the personal details she mentioned.
Oswald Eastbelfen. The heir to the prestigious Kalion mage family and the son of the
current Privy Councilor. He is a young nobleman who is diligent, intelligent,
considerate, and talented.
It means that he is a promising young man, but he has a few minor problems.
“A bit… unfortunate, isn’t he?”
“Unfortunate?”
“He is a young man who was engaged to the daughter of the Privy Councilor from
birth, but he was recently divorced. But… um.”
How to explain this.
Ernbert, the head of the magic department, wiped the sweat off his forehead and
sighed.
Elves are a race that is almost perfect in most cases, but one flaw that a god left
behind in jealousy of that perfection.
Their flaw is “obsession.” (It is not arrogance. It is natural for elves.)
Obsession with success, obsession with fame, obsession with knowledge. The types
are diverse, but in this case…
Evelyn Rustfist, the daughter of the Privy Councilor, was strangely obsessed with
Oswald.
***
(Oswald’s pov)
[The Villainess Obsessed with the Genius Wizard] was the worst novel of my life.
Damn it. I mean it. It was a pile of trash. I even dropped it after 30 episodes and
didn’t leave any hate comments or criticism.
I left cleanly. The author probably doesn’t even know me as a reader. But why.
Oswald tried to ignore the sharp gaze he felt on the back of his head and looked up at
the sky.
“My life is f*cked.”

The saying goes, “When strange things happen in world history, aim at England, and
you’ll roughly hit the mark.”
Kim Sunwoo studied internet memes more than world history, so he knew the meme
even though he didn’t know the reason in detail.
From Ivan’s perspective, he knows that a similar meme is also widely spread in this
pre-modern world.
In the original world history, if something strange happens, you can roughly guess by
pointing to elves.
Elves are a race that is basically full of a sense of superiority, arrogant, proud, and
think that racism is common sense.
The only reason elves were able to belong to the United Kingdom was that, from
their perspective, demons were more disgusting than humans. (Unfortunately,
dwarves were a non-discriminatory race, so they sided with the demons.)
“There is a theory in the academic world that humans could be evolved monkeys. In
most cases, they are not much different from monkeys, but at least they show some
traces of intelligence. Don’t think too negatively. It’s a compliment.” (Veolgrin)
“Oh my goodness, a human is talking back? How is the world going to turn around…?”
(Veolgrin)
“Magic…? You’re trying to give too grand a name to playing with magic power.
Humans. Are you not too young to cast magic?” (Veolgrin)
The above quotes are words that Veolgrin, who was considered to have the best
personality among the elves, directly said to Ivan.
Ivan still clearly remembers that moment.

All members of the hero party are crazy, but Veolgrin is one of the highest quality
crazy people.
What’s more surprising is that Veolgrin actually had no ill will.
In other words, those words were just a natural statement from his perspective.
Even at this moment, when the population, which was already small, has been cut
again due to the war with the demons, and the time has come to open the gates to
preserve the national body.
Elves are basically scum.
“A ‘volunteer club’?” (Eugene)
“Yes.” (Ivan)
“Me?” (Eugene)
“Hmm.” (Ivan)
“Why?” (Eugene)
Ivan had already secured the approval of the saint and assassin of the hero party, the
heads of theology and knight departments respectively. And even the head of the
magic department. Although it was not compulsory, it was at least possible to
persuade them to take some time out for the sake of their dignity.
But instead, Ivan was stroking the handle of his axe, contemplating. It was a
historical truth even the Demon King acknowledged that it was faster to kill an elf
than to persuade one.
“Brother, I’ll take care of this!” (Eugene)
At that moment, a young man rose up indignantly beside Ivan and shouted.
This is the story of how he suddenly acquired a younger brother.

Chapter 27. The Starry Night
“I’m Korean, and it would be wonderful if you were too, Man. Meeting someone from
your hometown is always a pleasant experience. So, is there any reason for us to feel
awkward? The Bible suggests that words have the power to resolve any problem in
the world.” (Eugene)
The possessed person, who had been kidnapped from the theology faculty campus,
started talking like this as soon as he came to his senses.
Ivan was somewhat taken aback. It was not only that he had revealed his identity too
easily, but also that he was surprisingly good at talking.
“Is your name Ivan Petrovich? Man, even the name is cool. Eugene. How about that?
Pronunciation is difficult from the Korean perspective, and it’s annoying to
memorize. Oh, why did you suddenly fall into this world? Oh, by the way, are you
from the post-Stalin era? Actually, the Soviet Union collapsed.” (Eugene)
This guy was pouring out questions without being asked.
Ivan listened to Eugene’s long speech while stroking his chin, and then suddenly
stopped.
“How did you know I was Korean?” (Ivan)
“Why. You have conducted I have status window, right? In fact, the concept of a status
window is only common in Northeast Asia. Character sheets appearing in novel texts
are mostly seen in Korean web novels and Japanese light novels! It’s still a somewhat
unfamiliar concept in other countries, although it’s gradually appearing…” (Eugene)
“And?” (Ivan)
“The only countries that pronounce the name ‘Eugene’ accurately phonetically are
Korea and the English-speaking world! So, since the only common point is Korea, I
took a guess! Hehehe.” (Eugene)
The three countries of Northeast Asia are all part of the Chinese cultural sphere, but
their pronunciation rules differ. This means that the same Chinese character can be
pronounced differently.
In Japan, the name is pronounced with a long vowel sound. In China, tones are used.
The only way to pronounce the name “Eugene” as a single syllable is in Korean.
‘That means he did all that deduction during the time he was being dragged away. Was
it his survival instinct, or was it the help of the status bar?’
Even if we consider those factors,
‘This guy is more capable than I thought…?’
Ivan nodded.
“So, you say you can see the status bar?” (Ivan)
“Yes, of course! Do you, too? Man, when it first appeared in front of me, I thought,
‘This is it, my life is going to change!’ But it doesn’t give me anything, it doesn’t take
anything away, it just suddenly gives me a quest and then cancels it. This thing is not
a status bar, it’s a shit-spear. Is yours like that too?” (Eugene)
“I don’t have one.” (Ivan)
“Oh my God, I’m so jealous of you, man! I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but in the
four years since I came here, the status bar has never helped me with anything! Man,
whenever I try to do something, it just keeps giving me warnings!” (Eugene)
Eugene was talkative, more than just competent.
“Oh, by the way, man, how many years did you live?” (Eugene)
“Thirty.” (Ivan)
“Oh…” (Eugene)
Eugene sighed at Ivan’s words.
Thirty years without a status bar…? And that period of time was even before the
demon war…?
“By any chance, when you came over from Korea, what year was it?” (Eugene)
“It was 2021.” (Ivan)
“Oh! I was in 2022! Man, does a one-year difference in our hometown mean a thirty-
year difference here? Then it’s been four years since I came here… It hasn’t even
been a few months!” (Eugene)
“It’s hard to think that way.” (Ivan)
Among the stories the saintess had told him about “the possessed of the distant
past,” there were things that could only be thought of as modern artifacts.
It is difficult to think that the time on Earth and in this world must be proportional.
Perhaps a person from the future could have been possessed in a more distant past
than himself.
What kind of criteria would there be? What were the conditions for possession?
“Oh, by the way, what did you do before you cross over? I was wondering if we had
anything in common, the two of us.” (Eugene)
“I was a college student.” (Ivan)
“Oh, I was an office worker. This is it, I’m older! Can I call you ‘Big Brother’?”
(Eugene)
“…???” (Ivan)
Ivan stared at the madman in front of him, his mouth shut.
Eugene, who had been talking animatedly about all sorts of things, trembled as he
felt Ivan’s gaze. He quickly continued.
“But age doesn’t really matter, does it? I mean, you’ve been around for over 50 years,
taking into account your Earth and here experiences, right? 20 years on Earth, 30
years here… That makes it appropriate to address you as Big Brother, doesn’t it?”
(Eugene)
“…” (Ivan)
Ivan pondered for a moment.

He himself had never really thought deeply about his age.
But somehow, that didn’t seem right.
“Uh… Well! Um! Can I call you ‘Big Brother’?” (Eugene)
Shit.
Ivan cursed his own mouth and sighed at this awkward silence.
Why did he say that? Has he gone crazy?
Ivan looked at Eugene and thought.
This guy is kind of interesting.
He has talent in swordsmanship, enough to use side-angle detection, and is taking a

regular course in theology. He also has a status bar and is good at talking…
He could be useful. At least more than Dmitry.
“If not, then there’s no other option! Instead of ‘Big Brother,’ why don’t I simply
address you as ‘sir’? Would that be more comfortable for you?”
“Do as you wish.”
“…Yes, big brother!”
Ivan nodded as he looked at Eugene, who was laughing like a con artist.
“Let’s forge a strong camaraderie.”
At that point, when he had analyzed the profiles of all students at Saint Jan’s
University, there were a total of three people suspected of being possessed. Eugene,
Yuri, and an elf named Oswald.
It was possible that only this guy was possessed, and the others were just ordinary
people from this world who had been unlucky enough to be on the suspect list.
But it was always best to be sure. There was no problem as long as the saintess had
approved.
If we could gather all possible possessed people, and then narrow them down, and
analyze their commonalities.
‘What is my story? What is the story that remains in this world?’
There could be at least some commonalities that could be inferred.
The conditions for being possessed, the commonalities of possession, and the
existence of an ‘ending,’ for example.
Since experiments are guaranteed to produce meaningful results only when the
control group is large.
“Yes, big brother! Leave it to me!!”
***
Isabel, Yuri, and Ecdysis have been eating together every day since the start of the
semester.
This is the result of a number of conflicting interests.
First, Isabel. She instinctively pays attention to the gazes of the people around her. It
was a skill she had acquired after a long life in the palace. She could perceive the
“hypocrisy” of others.
It was too well-known that she was the daughter of a hero, so anyone who
approached her had to be aware of her background. That was one of the things
Isabel hated the most, so she became a voluntary outcast.
On the other hand, Ecdysis’s case is a little different. As she once recalled, she is
attending college with her uncle.
As a freshman, she was too delicate to easily build friendships with Ecdysis, who was
closely monitored by her muscular uncle. So she became an unintentional outcast.
As for Yuri, there was no need to say anything more. She was an orphan, and even
though the times have improved, most of those who can afford to pay college tuition
are naturally nobles.
She is a person who scratches the pride of the nobles with her skills, which are far
ahead of those of the nobles, even though she is a war orphan. Therefore, she also
became an outcast.
As these three loners were comforting each other’s wounds and writing a high
school drama together,
“Hey! Uncle!”
Isabelle put down the sandwich she was eating and waved her hand happily at
something.
Yuri, who was eating a sandwich together, suddenly turned her head and dropped
her sandwich with a thud.
A gardener with a towel around his neck was walking straight towards her.
‘Gold Sun has been added…?!’
With a young nobleman who was laughing like a villain by his side.
Eugene was desperate. He kept talking incessantly to prove his worth.
“That guy?” (Ivan)
“Lily Downer. Second year in the Knight’s Department! Level 32. Just a normal level,
brother!” (Eugene)
“Then that guy?” (Ivan)
“Who? Oh, the one with the black hair? Marie Phillipson, also a second year in the
Knight’s Department! Level 29. Looks like she’s not very good at studying!” (Eugene)
Ivan looked at Eugene with new eyes.
In order to find the reincarnator, Ivan had once scanned the profiles of all the
undergraduate students at Jan’s University. He couldn’t remember everything, but he
was good at memorizing personal information because of his long career in the
Cleansup Unit.
Ivan now realized that this guy’s accuracy was almost 100%.
‘A walking profile page…?’
Ivan and Eugene were walking through the campus at the moment. The university
campus, which was in full swing, was bustling with students.
Since there were enough experimental subjects, Ivan could learn more about the
performance of Eugene’s status window.
‘It organizes the things you can perceive.’
This guy is like a database with access restrictions.
It shows the information that Eugene can now know and access. Things like the
opponent’s level, name, and title.
More detailed information requires “understanding” of the target. This means that
the more intimate you become, the more detailed profile you can obtain.
In other words, this guy is…
‘This guy was born to be a spy, right…?’
His background is excellent. The son of a duke. He is a person who has no problems
going to any country within the United Kingdom.
In addition, if the condition required to know the advanced information of the

opponent is just “intimacy”, it is even easier. This means that information can be
obtained simply by entering the social scene, even without trying to engage in
information operations.
In addition, there is one more way to use this “information access restriction” status
window.
This guy’s status window doesn’t perceive information he can’t access.
In other words, to put it the other way around.
The information that this guy doesn’t perceive means that it is a target that cannot
be grasped at the student level. How many people are there that the son of a duke
cannot perceive at Jan’s University?
So, this guy is…
“He is specialized in detecting spies, limited to the school.”
After learning this, Ivan searched the entire university with Eugene in tow. As a
result, he found that about seven people had different names from their admission
documents.
‘The levels are either too high or invisible, names are different, and positions are not
visible at all.’
‘Good.’
Ivan thought as he walked. It’s less than he expected.

There are three main types of people who could plant people in Jan’s University.
The Prince’s faction, spies from the United Kingdom’s allied countries, or demons.
The three groups would have infiltrated with their own purposes, so the seven
revealed are not a large number. There are 10 countries in the United Kingdom
alone, right?
“They planted agents even among ordinary students.”
Either they were raised as agents from a young age, or they were planted without
even realizing that they were government agents.
If we exclude a few countries like that…
“The guys with too high levels are more likely to be demon collaborators.”
Those classified as “strong” among the core members of the Prince’s faction are
already under surveillance by the Counterintelligence Command.
Given Princess Elizaveta’s resourcefulness, the Crown Prince faction would never be
able to cultivate strong people in secret.
“Uh… um. Brother. But her real name is Yuri, right? Yuri Frank is right?” (Eugene)
“That’s not a problem. Didn’t you say my name came out as Ivan?” (Ivan)
“Oh, that’s right. Then how do we find out?” (Eugene)
“Persuasion.” (Ivan)
Ivan nodded and walked to the courtyard of the campus.
Three female students were chewing on sandwiches on a bench under a tree.
“Oh, uncle!” (Isabelle)
“”Eek!!”” (Ecdysis and Yuri)
The contrasting reactions of the two students. Ivan’s suspicions deepened.

There is also a high probability that she is not a possessed person. It is only
speculation to suspect it with information about the name.
However, the reaction of that student is clearly suspicious.
Since Ivan was a former agent who had been thoroughly trained, he was very good at
disguising himself as a normal appearance.
In other words, it is suspicious to be afraid of the appearance of a gardener who

looks harmless and ordinary to everyone.
“Isabelle, how have you been?” (Ivan)
“Ahaha, has it been that long since we last saw each other? Our first class was just
yesterday!” (Isabelle)
“Hmm.” (Ivan)
“Have you eaten, uncle? Who’s taking care of you? Our school food is really bad, but
would you like some of this?” (Isabelle)
“Ah, ah…” (Ecdysis)
Ecdysis moaned as Isabelle pulled out a sandwich and handed it to Ivan.
Taking the sandwich from Isabelle’s hand and taking a bite, Ivan stood in front of
them.
“Oh, did I forget to introduce them? Let me introduce Yuri Frank, who focuses on
Knight Studies, and Ecdysis, who is working towards a degree in Music.”
“Uh-uh!!” (Yuri and Ecdysis)
“Ahaha, right. Uncle, wait… um.” (Isabelle)
Isabel narrowed her eyes, looking at Eugene standing next to Ivan.
He’s a newcomer. Who is he? Is he a government agent too?
“Shall we talk privately?” (Isabelle)

“Hiiik?! B-Bela! Just a moment!” (Yuri)
Brushing off Yuri’s strange attempt to stop her, Isabel walked with Ivan.
After distancing themselves from the group, she spoke.
“I wanted to talk after class, but you suddenly disappeared. Are you okay?” (Isabelle)
“Hmm?” (Ivan)
“No, you’re a government agent, right? Wasn’t it supposed to be a secret between

us?” (Isabelle)
Isabel glanced around seriously and whispered, “Except for August from Tylesse, I
don’t know who else they sent. But they must have sent at least one more. How can
you blatantly reveal it in such a situation?” (Isabelle)
“Reveal?” (Ivan)
“Your skills! Mister, you’re a secret agent!” (Isabelle)
Ivan tilted his head, looking down at Isabelle.
The petite figure, standing tall only to his chest, scanned the surroundings with a
slightly lowered face, speaking with a tense voice.
“I don’t know what the Krasilov government is hiding here, but since I owe you…
well. How about I find out a bit too?” (Isabelle)
“What?” (Ivan)
“Oh, right, a spy dispatched from Tylesse! I don’t know if they’re among the
freshmen, but let’s check!” (Isabelle)
Isabelle nodded firmly with trusting eyes.
Ivan raised an eyebrow as he watched her.
Betraying her own homeland so easily. Does she lack patriotism?

Then, after a moment of reflection, he realized he had never acted out of patriotism
himself. He simply admired the king personally.
“No need for that.” (Ivan)
“Huh? This is a valuable opportunity. If you miss it, you’ll regret it. When I graduate
here, I could rise to a high position in Tylesse. Don’t you need human resources? And
you’re a government agent?”
Does this child have a distorted view of the word ‘agent’?
He knew she grew up in the palace, but the initial impression and the discrepancy
were too much.
Ivan nodded expressionlessly.
“If you want to do that, go ahead.” (Ivan)
“…Well, your attitude is really bad.” (Isabelle)
Isabelle shook her head and suddenly asked, “By the way, what exactly are they
hiding here that the elves are still lingering around?” (Isabelle)
She pointed towards the sky.
Over a week had passed since the start of the new semester, about a month since the
entrance ceremony.
Kalion’s warship was still docked in the airspace above Jan’s University.
Initially confusing, most students now reacted with a “Well, elves will be elves”
attitude.
But for Ivan, it was somewhat perplexing. That ship is a military ship from another
country. Jan’s University is even in the capital.
Even if the crown prince had a different intention, Elizaveta would never have
allowed such a thing. Moreover, the royal palace and the metropolitan area are
supposed to be within Elizaveta’s sphere of influence.
“Well, who can understand the minds of elves.”
***
“Alright, Sir Veilchest. How was your report today?”
“It failed, Your Highness.”
“I see. Failed again today.”
Ernest nodded with a subtle smile.
“What does the Krasilov government say?”
“They warned that if we don’t withdraw within three days, they will shoot us down.”
“Those guys said the same thing three days ago. Don’t worry about it and continue
with your duties.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Sending off the technical officer, Ernest, alone, took out a handkerchief and wiped
away the cold sweat.
“Why on earth…?”
All warships undergo thorough technical checks before departure. The “Glory of
Boil,” led by him, was no exception.
Even though it wasn’t an actual deployment, just a light show of military presence
without reaching the level of sparking diplomatic disputes, it only went through
routine maintenance-level technical checks.
But still, it was Kalion’s aerial battleship.
During the last war, it dominated the skies with terror. There might be minor
malfunctions, but there had never been a disruption in the ship’s navigation.
Then, a knock was heard beyond the cabin door.

“Your Highness, someone from the Krasilov palace has come.”
“I mentioned that I have an appointment this afternoon; tell them to come back in
the evening.”
“I, I did explain it like that, but…”
A commotion was heard from beyond the door. An urgent voice of an officer, “This is
a difficult situation,” “This is a diplomatic breach!”
Elves naturally have sensitive hearing, especially indoors.
A clicking metal sound, footsteps resonating sharply on the ship’s deck.
Sensing who had come, Ernest sighed deeply.
“Come in.”
“Just as I intended.”
Without any courtesy, the door beyond the cabin was opened abruptly, and a
graceful woman with silver hair appeared.
Elizaveta. The leader of these monkey-like creatures in this country.
Ernest coughed, trying to manage his expression.
“Such impoliteness. Do you realize that a warship is comparable to the territory of its
nation?” (Ernest)
“Indeed, I do. That’s precisely why I refrain from shooting it down when it enters the
airspace of my country,” (Elizaveta)
Elizaveta confidently walked over and sat across from Ernest, her lavish uniform
sparkling under the indoor lighting.
As she flicked her gloved hand, the man standing behind her approached, opened a
black case, handed her a cigarette, and stepped back politely.
Before anyone could complain about smoking in the captain’s cabin, Elizaveta’s
sharp eyes glinted.
“So, tell me. How should I… no, how should I treat you all?” (Elizaveta)
“What…?” (Ernest)
“Our government’s official stance has been conveyed. ‘Three days.’ But that’s not my
stance. Elves. You must choose one.” (Elizaveta)
Elizaveta shook her hand. With a flick, the cigarette ignited, accompanied by a
magical reaction.
Swoosh, sigh.
Amidst the rising smoke for a moment, violet eyes gleamed like a beast’s.
“First, explain what you’re plotting, and then seek cooperation.”
“And if we refuse?”
“I’ll send a lumberjack.”
As the cigarette smoke dispersed, a beautiful royal face with a gentle smile appeared.
As if the momentum until now was a lie, Elizaveta smiled and said, “It’s fortunate,
your warship is not wooden.”
“Insulting…!!” (Ernest)
A lumberjack to an elf…? There could be no greater insult within the bounds of

diplomatic rhetoric.
As Ernest got angry, Elizaveta shrugged and stood up.
“An insult, it seems. I guess that serves as an answer.” (Elizaveta)
“You alone cannot represent the will of the royal family. Do you really think you can
get away with this?” (Ernest)
The conflict between the crown prince and the princess was already internationally
famous, surpassing the scope of a simple power struggle and approaching an
imminent civil war.
Amidst such circumstances, is it right to openly antagonize a powerful nation of the

United Kingdom? If Kalion takes the side of the crown prince, the princess’s position
will be significantly shaken.
Growling with such intent, the princess laughed softly.
“Threatening the Royal Chancellor in Capital Frechenkaya. What an amusing joke,

Captain.”
“Elizaveta…!” (Ernest)
“And, Captain. Take this to heart.”
As Elizaveta opened the cabin door, she glanced back for a moment.
Violet eyes, reminiscent of birds of prey, sparkled.
“I am the soon-to-be will of the royal family.”
***
“Your Highness, the foreign minister is urgently inquiring.”
“Only a man of royal blood would be so impatient.”
Elizaveta walked on the deck, chuckling.
There was no way to avoid the expected. That author of hers.
“Proceed as planned. Summon Vanca.”
“Will you meet him in person?”
“Sir Cherkatov. Didn’t I tell you? We must reunite at a more appropriate time and
place.”
No romance.
Elizaveta brushed past Dmitry once and changed her steps.
“When is that object going to depart?”
“Well, it’s uncertain what the Privy Council has in mind.”
“Hold on, why is the Privy Council engaged in this matter? It falls under the
jurisdiction of the Naval Command!”
The elves, who had started their normal school life, were in a state of confusion at
this time.
Even elves with high self-esteem and patriotism have their limits. They were now
grinding their teeth in the midst of empathy-based shame and human subtle
contempt.
On the first day the warship floated above their heads, the elf students proudly said
to themselves:
“Look, how badass are we to be able to float a warship in the middle of the human
capital and everyone just watches?”
These amazed people, who witnessed the launch of a warship at their entrance
ceremony, began to sense something subtle after a week had passed.
“Nevertheless, given that warships are currently unnecessary, is it acceptable to

proceed with this?”
This was a fear that was close to a survival instinct.
After all, deploying a war weapon in the capital of another country is an enormous
military provocation.
Even if it is unlikely that anything will happen, they will suddenly switch from
students to prisoners if a war breaks out due to that military provocation.
There is no Geneva Convention in a primitive pre-modern fantasy world.

Although there is no law explicitly allowing the execution of prisoners openly in
border disputes of the Union Kingdom, and they wouldn’t decapitate the sons and
daughters of noble families, some of whom have received education abroad.
But that is something that can only be said in a world where “common sense” is
prevalent.
So, just imagining what kind of frenzy the human kingdom, which is believed to be
devoid of common sense (according to the elves), would commit, makes their
survival instinct twitch.
And finally, a week later, after fifteen days.
Still looking at their proud aerial battleship floating in the sky, the elves finally
showed their tribal characteristics.
They are the pioneers of civilization, parliamentary politics, and constitutional

monarchy democracy.
Therefore, according to their tribal characteristics, they finally formed a party. This
means that the factional struggle has begun.
The elf students have now begun a civil war, divided into the Privy Council faction
and the Naval Command faction. (Civil war is also one of their tribal characteristics.)
Of course, this does not solve the problem of who will hold the kingship. Even if they
elect a first-year student council president, a perfectly good warship will not return
home saying, “Congratulations.”
Anyway.
Outside, there is human contempt and threat.
Inside, there is the elves’ cozy political activities.
And above, there is that warship, floating in the sky, without any communication.
In this chaotic era, where peace has become a vulgar joke.
A gardener and a human noble youth visited the elf students’ dormitory.
This is the day after Dmitry carefully handed Ivan a “command.”
Let’s go back in time to the day before. So, the day that Elizaveta decided to chop
down the elf captain’s neck.
Dmitry headed to the orphanage where he had been annually hand-picked and
cleaned the royal treasury and then put it in his back pocket.
Elizaveta was basically a shy girl (his personal opinion), so this matter had been
handled without informing Ivan.
In other words, Dmitry had been the biggest sponsor of this orphanage so far. In the
name of “veteran’s privilege” and “back-up for a retired lieutenant colonel who
couldn’t get a military pension,” but whatever. Anyway, the hand that put the money
in was his hand.
“Oh, hey. Hi, kids?”
“…”
Dmitry walked down the corridor with a friendly smile on his face to these creepy
students who were walking around suspiciously quietly.
It felt like walking through the corridors of the Political Correction Facility of the
Intelligence Headquarters. Mostly because the observers were silently staring from a
corner without making any noise.
“I don’t intend to touch my respected senior’s personal hobby, but isn’t this within
the scope of being able to charge you with treason against the state?”
“How did you even think of collecting orphans to use them as field agents?”
Dmitry walked to the principal’s office, rubbing his creepy nape.
Squelch, squelch. Dmitry passed by a Drovian soldier, who was making a suspicious
noise as he squeezed the laundry. He then passed by a new teacher, who was being
lynched by the children, wearing a strange hat turned upside down.
“Senior, are you here?”

“You came through the door today.”
When Dmitry opened the door to the principal’s office, he saw Ivan, still sitting in a
surprisingly bleak interior. Ivan was looking through a pile of documents with a cold
eye.
“What’s it?” (Ivan)
“Well, um. We have a guest?” (Eugene)
“Oh, it’s your friend, Brother! Don’t mind me, go ahead with your business!”
(Eugene)
“…Brother…?” (Dmitry)
It seemed that his senior had unexpectedly acquired a younger brother with a
significant age difference.
Dmitry stared at the young man’s face for a long time, then snapped his fingers. He
recognized the face, as it turned out.
“Are you Sir Karamzin? It’s a pleasant surprise to find you here!” (Dmitry)
“I’m just a student, sir, if I may point that out!” (Eugene)
The sudden enrollment of the notorious troublemaker in the local seminary had
been a buzzworthy topic around Frechenkaya for some time.
He is the youngest son of the Karamzin ducal family, which has produced several
defense ministers.
Such a man, calling our senior, who had never been interested in politics,
“brother”…?
Dmitry’s eyes shone sharply, and Ivan hit the table.
“Eugene. Get out.” (Ivan)
“Yes, brother! Work comfortably! I’ll be doing volunteer work!” (Eugene)

“Monitor the ongoing progress of Mord’s laundry tasks.” (Ivan)
“Yes, brother!” (Eugene)
Eugene left the principal’s office with a sly smile on his face. Dmitry, who was
watching him with a blank expression, tilted his head slightly.
“Your taste seems to have changed quite a bit, senior. Didn’t you dislike such
fellows…?” (Dmitry)
“The kid is well-behaved.” (Ivan)
“Come to think of it, your impression seems to have improved a bit, senior. It must be
because of Enrique.” (Dmitry)
Ivan thumped the desk heavily. Anyway, he has a quick temper. Dmitry pulled out a
letter from his pocket.
“Colonel Kirillovna…?” (Ivan)
“She’s the Royal Chancellor. Anyway, well, the situation is a bit complicated. And only
senior can do it.” (Dmitry)
Dmitry handed the letter and stretched out on the sofa.
“Even though I give you a lot of money every year, why don’t you use a more
expensive sofa?” (Dmitry)
Ivan, who ignored Dmitry’s words and read the letter, frowned.
This is a bit of a big deal.
“Are you serious?” (Ivan)
“Where would our princess be the kind of person to joke about something like this?”
(Dmitry)
Infiltrate the Kallion warship floating above the Jan’s University and threaten the
captain.
However, at the same time, avoid any loss of life to the crew of the warship.
“Why?” (Ivan)
“Ah, this is a bit complicated.” (Dmitry)
Dmitry frowned. Where should I start explaining this?
“Right now, it seems that the warship is malfunctioning. Even if those bastards are
crazy, they wouldn’t have a reason to provoke the capital with military force for over
two weeks. There’s no reason.” (Dmitry)
“Then?” (Ivan)
“We’ll orchestrate a plan to ensnare His Highness, Alexander, capitalizing on this

moment.” (Dmitry)
Dmitry slowly straightened his back. A face without a smile, the face of a lieutenant
colonel of the Internal Inspection Division of the Counterintelligence Command
Headquarters.
“The people of Kalion know very well that our country is in a mess. And in the
meantime, our princess herself came to “threaten” them.” (Dmitry)
“If the warship is actually threatened in the meantime, the captain will definitely try
to shake hands with the crown prince.” (Dmitry)
Dmitry smiled bitterly and stood up.
“We will seize the Kalion warship. We will condemn those elves who dared to point
their cannons at the Great Krasilov Royal Palace. Then, we will declare that the
crown prince is in cahoots with them and plotting a coup. We have already prepared
to send an official letter of protest to the Kalion Privy Council.” (Dimitry)
“Kalion will try to cover up the incident as a rogue act by a single captain. In return,
they will…” (Dimitry)
“They will have to approve our request to dock the ‘damaged’ warship in the
outskirts of Frechenkaya for ‘repairs.'” (Dimitry)
“Airships are the only war machines that Kalion has.” (Dimitry)
“However, as is always the case with technology, there is always a risk of it being
leaked.” (Dimitry)
“Therefore, we will seize the warship. After seizing it, we will attempt to reverse-
engineer it under the pretext of repairing the ‘damaged’ warship.” (Dimitry)
“From Kalion’s point of view, this is not a total loss. If you consider the cost and labor
required to build a warship of that size, Krasilov will never be able to maintain a fleet
that surpasses Kalion’s navy.” (Dimitry)
“However, Krasilov desperately needs those few airships. Krasilov, which does not
have a permanent port, completely ceases maritime trade during the winter.”
(Dimitry)
“If the operation is successful, the princess will gain tremendous leverage.” (Dimitry)
“One conspiracy will not bring down Alexander, but it will at least put him under
enough political pressure to make him unable to maneuver for the time being.”
(Dimitry)
“In addition, if we acquire the “airship design, we can move the military, which has
been expressing neutrality between the internal conflict between the crown prince
and the princess. Naturally, powerful war machines will go to the military.” (Dimitry)
“Profit, leverage, and support.” (Dmitry)
“We are targeting three goals at the same time with a single operation. Even if we do
not get the best results, there will be no harm to the princess. Wasn’t it the elves’
fault in the first place to dock a warship in front of the palace?” (Dmitry)
Dmitry continued to persuade Ivan.
“It’s impossible without you, senior. All the agents we can move are exposed, and it’s
difficult to carry out the operation with undercover guys.” (Dmitry)
Currently, the only force that the princess can move in Pretchenkaya is the
Counterintelligence Command.
Since Enrique does not follow the orders of the court, the princess’s strongest card is
Ivan.
Lumberjack, butcher of the Seven Dragons, executioner of the Great King.
“If this matter is handled well, you don’t have to bother with the existing operation,
senior. If the crown prince becomes a vegetative, there is no need to protect the
guests of the Jan’s University. If you need any other price… Well, the princess told me
to tell you this.” (Dmitry)
Dmitry hesitated for a moment and said carefully.
“I’ll provide a seat in the Royal Court… or something like that.” (Dmitry)
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” (Ivan)
“Um… well. I think the princess will be hurt.” (Dmitry)
“Convey that to Her Highness. Tell her she’s gazing at the sky.” (Ivan)
Ivan said as he stood up.
***
“Has anything changed?” (Ivan)
“Yep, brother! The text on the [Quest Window] has changed!” (Eugene)
Ivan nodded at Eugene’s words.
After Dmitry left, Eugene returned to the principal’s office and quickly wrote the
changed quest window text and handed it over.
[“B-rank linked quest” Krasilov palace intrigue]
[The princess wants to seize the palace by holding the crown prince’s weakness.
Now, the fate of the Krasilov royal family rests on your choice!]
[Objective: Prove the collusion between the captain of the Kalion airship and the
crown prince, following the orders of the princess.]
[Optional objectives: Survival of all members of the airship crew]
[Optional objectives: Capture the airship]
[Optional objectives: Report the truth of the conspiracy to Crown Prince Alexander,
and proceed to the next linked quest]
[Objective reward: ????]
[Failure penalty: ????]
After reading the memo, Ivan nodded.
“You have to come with me on this operation.” (Ivan)
“…me? I do?” (Eugene)
“We need to make sure what the success reward is like and how the quest
progresses.” (Ivan)
This “quest” is generally listed before the “event” occurs.
Of course, it is a matter of course. It is impossible to throw a quest at you for an

event that has already ended.
Therefore, the quest serves as an early warning of what is to come.
In fact, the quest that appeared before Dmitry’s visit was [Court Intrigue]. It was a
type of quest that asked you to identify the conspiracy involving the airship and to
proceed with the mission on the side of the princess or the crown prince.
In other words, it is a “faction selection” quest.
Although the faction selection has not been completed yet, the content of the quest
changed as soon as I heard the princess’s plan. In the form of conspiracy and
whistleblowing.
A real-time early warning. It is a very useful resource.
Ivan looked at Eugene, who was becoming more and more valuable, and thought.
‘The only possessors I know are the Demon King, the Hero, and me.’
The common point of the three is that they were beings who had reached the
pinnacle of their respective fields.
And if you consider that this guy, although still immature, has the potential to do so.
‘There is a possibility that other possessors are the same.’
What kind of abilities do they have?
What kind of stories do they hold?
And what kind of ending will they face?
At the end of that ending, what form of ending credits will they see?
The Demon King is dead, the Hero is gone, and I’m still here.
So what about other possessors? If they end their stories, will they die? Will they
disappear? Or will they stay?
There was a lot to find out, a sure way to find out, and a reason to know.
“I’ll persuade Oswald, an elf, and Yuri tomorrow morning, and the operation will
begin tomorrow night.”
“What should I do then, Brother?”
“Assist me.”
This guy needs to be trained as an agent. Ivan nodded with that thought.
Oswald is a freshman at the Magic Department, typical for most elves.
According to the racial distribution at St. Jan’s University, most elves concentrate in
the Magic Department and the Conservatory of Music, likely due to their lazy racial
trait of avoiding physical exertion.
One morning, during class, Ivan and Eugene walked to the Magic Department.
“Brother, I’ve been thinking,” Eugene said.
“Hmm?” (Ivan)
“It’s strange that there are no paladins in this world, right?” (Eugene)
This guy didn’t seem to hide the fact that he was a transmigrator anymore.
“Well, you and I are both in a different world from the original,” he said. “If there are
gods, divine spells, and knights in this world, then paladins should be a given, right?”
(Eugene)
“Why would a priest need to carry a weapon?” Ivan asked.
Ivan knew the paladin’s position was close to fantasy.
On Earth, paladins were cases where knights fought for religious beliefs during the
Crusades, so they were not technically priests. (And they were very secular.)
It is not uncommon for ordained priests to also act as knights, but in that case, they
cannot be called knights. They are just armed priests.
This world is no different. Priests in this pre-modern world are basically incredible
elites. They must have a wide range of knowledge compared to modern lawyers.
In addition, if they take vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, and receive divine
spells from God, they will have less need to use their bodies.
They can strike with a single blow from their seat, stronger than most knights, so
why…
There is no need for an ordained priest to go to the front lines, so why…
In addition, there is one more major reason.
The authority that priests have in a world where personal gods exist is beyond
imagination. This is because they cannot use divine spells if they lack personality.
In other words, all priests in this world are basically good. Surprisingly, it was true.
And because such common sense was widespread, priests were all receiving
tremendous social respect.
Therefore, the only time they would go to the front lines and fight directly with
swords was during the demon war, and even then, they were never deployed to the
very front.
The idea of a knight who uses divine spells is simply an illusion.
As he listened to the kind education of his 30-year veteran teacher in another world,
Eugene clapped his hands and said:
“So I’m the first one?” (Eugene)
“…What?” (Ivan)
“I got a divine spell slot after I applied to the Seminary!” Eugene said. “I can’t use
many spells yet, but it’s possible, right?” (Eugene)
Eugene also has a specialized passive called “Sword Mastery.” This means that he is
more skilled in swordsmanship than others.
“So, a priest who uses divine spells and is also good at swordsmanship… isn’t that a
paladin? Wow, brother. I guess I’m the pioneer of the paladin tech.” (Eugene)
Ivan nodded in agreement and thought for a moment.
“Divine spell slot…?” (Ivan?

“I could learn other spells, but the experience cost is too high, so I haven’t tried. After
all, life is about choosing and focusing, right?” (Eugene)
“Divine, magic, and swordsmanship. You can learn all three types of skills?” (Ivan)
Ivan narrowed his eyes and looked at Eugene. A past conversation flashed through
his mind.
-It’s good to learn anything! Except magic. That’s really too difficult.
-It would be a bit inconvenient if the hero couldn’t use magic.”
-Ah ha ha, I’m in the Knighthood Department!”
This was a conversation that Ivan had with Isabelle in passing.
It’s not always the case that the daughter of a hero becomes a hero, but what about
in the case of Maximilian?
“Can use divine, magic, and swordsmanship, and is also a transmigrator.”
Is this guy a hero?
Ivan looked down at Eugene with a complicated expression, observing Eugene’s sly
smile.
“I really want to say this when I become a paladin. You know, ‘Deus Bolt! Haa!'”
(Eugene)
Ivan shook his head, reminiscing about Maximilian. It didn’t seem like the world
needed Eugene to be a hero.
Ivan and Eugene soon arrived at the Magic Department lecture hall.
Oswald, in the midst of a lecture, suddenly felt a chill down his neck and shrank back.
A strong gaze, almost murderous or even more intense with greed, came from Evelyn
Rustfits, the beloved daughter of the Privy Council Chairman and noblewoman of the
Rustfits Dukedom.
Oswald clenched his teeth.
“What am I supposed to do…!” (Oswald)
Being a normal 20-something adult male, he had never encountered a “reverse

harem romance fantasy” novel, also known as a “villainess novel.”
He had no information about this novel at all, not understanding why he was
suddenly possessed by a character in a novel he had only seen 30 episodes of.
Surviving in a world he knew nothing about, without any special privileges from
being a reincarnator, proved challenging.
“I should have at least read a reverse harem novel!” (Oswald)
He felt like crying and banging his head on the ground. He had read some reverse
harem novels before, but those were just cliches that could be enjoyed in novels.
In the cold reality of 21st-century South Korea, a situation where the heroine regrets,
becomes embittered, and becomes obsessed with the protagonist is called…
[Stalking]. It is a serious form of dating violence that even the police will take action
against!
So, why was Evelyn glaring at him?
It was because Oswald had accidentally bumped into a female student in the hallway
and smiled, saying, “It’s okay.”
“Damn it, what else was I supposed to do?” (Oswald)
Unless you’re a psychopath, you wouldn’t do something like that. Even though elves
are a race that is full of arrogance, they don’t have that kind of culture.
They believe that arrogance is just another aspect of being noble. So, they don’t do
such vulgar things. In other words, Oswald’s response was considered reasonable
even in elven society.
However, it seems that Evelyn, who has transcended the boundaries of elven
humanity, doesn’t think so.
“Okay, class was a bit boring, I know. Let’s take a 10-minute break and then
continue.”
As the professor on the podium spoke with a warm smile, the students began to
stretch and get up from their seats.
Oswald also naturally stood up and headed for the hallway, avoiding Evelyn, who was
still glaring at him as if she wanted to kill him.
This time, he was very careful not to bump into any female students.
“Get him.” (Ivan)
“Yes, brother!” (Eugene)
As Oswald walked down the hallway, he bumped into a group of wanderers instead
of a female student.
***
Oswald’s impression of those he thought of was simple. A crazy guy and a lunatic
duo.
In reality, a young crazy guy with a face like a betrayer, constantly wiping his palms
with black hair, said this as soon as he saw him.
“Oh, nice to meet you. Mr. Eastbelphen! I’m Eugene, in Korea, I was called Kim Yujin.
And this is Ivan, I don’t know his Korean name, but he’s a Korean.” (Eugene)
“…?” (Oswald)
“We came knowing that you are a possessed person. Do you need help?” (Ivan)
“…???” (Oswald)
Was this an event from a few episodes ago? At least in the episodes he had seen,
another possessed person hadn’t appeared…
The [Villainess Obsessed with a Magical Prodigy] that Oswald had seen didn’t have
this storyline. Of course, it wasn’t this strange Russian background either.
While Oswald was momentarily engulfed in confusion, the old man introduced as
Ivan spoke up.
“I understand you’re surprised. But both you and we need each other’s help. Can you
spare some time?” (Ivan)
“Oh, well… but how did you find me…?” (Oswald)
What could be the biggest characteristic of a possessed person? Naturally, it’s hiding
the fact of possession.
Posession, to put it bluntly, is the act of taking over the body of a person who was
living before. What would happen if it entered a body where family and relatives
were living peacefully?
No matter how well things go, it’s a crisis of experimentation on the human body,
and if things go wrong, there’s a danger of being seen as the avenger of a son (or
daughter) and having one’s throat cut.
This is a fact already proven by many possession stories in Korea. From the
perspective of family and relatives, the possessor is nothing but an enemy.
Therefore, after Oswald learned about the fact of possession, he spent enough time
in despair and thoroughly hid his identity.
So, it should have been perfect…?
“Not very elf-like.” (Ivan)
“Yes…?” (Oswald)
“Elves rarely use honorifics.” (Ivan)
Except for beings like holy women or kings of a nation, elves don’t use honorifics
even in formal letters. In the first place, those long-lived creatures rarely do.
But this guy took off admission documents with honorifics from the admissions
office. The moment Ivan heard this story, he couldn’t help but think of the word
“possessor” before thinking of a “polite and kind elf.”
Because there can’t be a proposition like a polite and kind elf in the world.
So naturally, Ivan, who singled out the possessor, was watching Oswald under his
name with an underline.
An elf who, while chatting with his friends in the corridor corner, bumped into a
human classmate and laughed, saying it’s okay…?
That can’t be true.
“‘Even monkeys have forward-facing visi. Are you a goat? Do you eat grass? Can’t you
see in front? Don’t get me wrong, even vegetarians deserve respect.'” (Ivan)
“Isn’t this exactly what a typical elf would say to a rude human…?” (IVAN
As Ivan explained, Oswald’s expression gradually hardened.
What on earth is this old man saying…?
Is this racial discrimination? Emotions he hadn’t even felt on Earth now complicated
his judgment in this otherworldly setting, especially when felt from an elf…
“So, what was the story you saw?” (Eugene)
“Oh, by the way, I was [Northern Dukedom Swordsman Genius Bastard]!” (Eugene)
“…I was [Magical Prodigy Haunted by the Villainess Obsessed with Magic]…”
(Oswald)
“Oh, interesting. Seems like you possessed after 2021, at least?” (Eugene)
“It was May 2023.” (Oswald)
“Oh…!”
Oswald ignored Eugene, who was babbling about himself, and turned his head to
Ivan.
“Are there more possessed people?” (Oswald)

“Probably.”
Eugene nodded heavily.
“Let’s go to the Knight Department.” (Ivan)
***
Yuri paled as she looked at the three men blocking her way.
A suspicious gardener with a towel around his neck and a smiling guy with dark hair
wiping his palms next to him…
“Hello? I’m Oswald from the Department of Magic. I’m also a freshman. My major is
Mind Sorcery, um, it’s a mental discipline.”
There was also a sharp-eyed guy who unabashedly admitted to using hypnotic
magic.
“You’re a possessed person, right? I heard you’re from Korea. Haha, it feels like we
should make a Seoul club or something, right?”
Kim Taeyang reached out with a laugh.
“Hehehe!”
Yuri’s vision darkened!
***
Yuri Frank, the top student in the Knight Department.
Eugene Nobikov Karamjin, who mastered both swordsmanship and theology in the
Theology Department.
Oswald Eastbelphen, majoring in Mind Sorcery in the Department of Magic.
And there’s Ivan Petrovich, a former reconnaissance unit member.
Ivan looked at the possessed individuals gathered in the small club room and
thought.
Isn’t this some kind of hero party combination…?

“Let’s introduce ourselves one by one. I’m Eugene. Eugene Nobikov Karamzin. I’m
Kim Yujin, who has possessed the body of the son of the Karamzin Duke.”
Eugene said, writing his name in Korean on the whiteboard in the club room.
In front of a frightened girl from the Knight Departemen, an elf with a languid
expression who seemed to be thinking of something, and a murderous Santa Claus
brother who still made his legs tremble just by looking at him.
“The last novel I read was [Northern Dukedom Swordsman Genius Bastard], and I’m
now enrolled in the Theology Department, walking the path of a priest! Oh, and I
also see a status window. Is anyone else here who can see a status window?”
(Eugene)
He raised his hand and threw out a light comment to build a sense of empathy, but
everyone just looked at each other.
No one?
Is the status window really that special? Eugene lowered his hand awkwardly and
continued speaking.
“Hmm, erm… Is there anything else you’re curious about?” (Eugene)
“The ending.” (Oswald)
“…What?” (Eugene)
“Explain the ending, setting, and storyline of the novel you read.” (Oswald)
Eugene fell silent for a moment. Where should he start talking about this?
Normally, long-running novels have one of three endings.
One, a normal ending.

Two, a hiatus.
And finally, serialization.
The novel Eugene read was a novel that had been serialized to the bone. It was a
super long-running novel with over a thousand episodes.
It was the kind of novel that was good to watch to clear your head lightly during
commuting, without any difficult passages that would make you stop and think, and
with no real content.
So, there was no ending. He just went to the academy and started collecting hidden
pieces, and then he started fighting with the evil wizard family, and then suddenly a
world war broke out…
It was a novel that extended its lifespan by repeating the sentence “The mastermind
turned out to be ~~” every 100 episodes.
Maybe even the author can’t imagine the ending anymore.
“Hmm…” (Ivan)
Ivan listened to Eugene’s words and thought. He definitely didn’t know the content,
and he didn’t know the novel.
In the first place, Ivan, or Kim Sunwoo, was “serious” about novels.
That means he had strict criteria for choosing novels. He also had the pride of not
reading BL-flavored nomans long-running serialized pension novels that are
beautifully displayed on the first page of the main portal.
“Next.” (Ivan)
When Ivan turned his head, Oswald hesitated and stood up.
“Oswald Eastbelphen. I am the second son of the Eastbelphen Viscount. My father is

a current Privy Councilor, and I am an elf belonging to Kalion. As you can see. And my
Korean name was Park Jaeyoung. The novel I was reading was, um… um.” (Oswald)
Oswald closed his eyes and said with difficulty.

“[Magical Prodigy Haunted by the Villainess Obsessed with Magic]… that was it.”
(Oswald)
“Oh. Romance!” (Eugene)
“Shut… up.” (Oswald)
At Eugene’s encouragement, Oswald bit his teeth.
“I didn’t even read 30 episodes! The content is also not good, and the misery is over
at that point, and from then on, they only fed me forced sweet potatoes!” (Oswald)
“Oh, an expert.” (Eugene)
“Shut… up! Your mouth!” (Oswald)
“How old are you! I’m thirty-one in Korea, and I’ve been possessed for four years!”
(Eugene)
“…I was twenty-seven in Korea, and I’ve been possessed for four years.” (Oswald)
“This side is definitely a younger brother! Can you call me Big Brother casually?”
(Eugene)
“Wow, there, Mr. Ivan? I can’t work with this kid.” (Oswald)
This one doesn’t know the ending or the content.
Ivan nodded, ignoring the two chattering people.
“Next.” (Ivan)
“Hiiik!!” (Yuri)
Yuri, who had been shrinking in the corner, stood up with difficulty.
“I’m Yuri… Frank. I was Lee Yuri in Korea… I was an illustrator.” (Yuri)
“Wow! A working adult!” (Eugene)

“That, that… I was twenty-nine… and… I’ve been possessed for four years… I don’t
have parents.” (Yuri)
“Hurk! Immune to parental abuse…!” (Eugene)
“Are you crazy?” (Oswald)
Eugene was in a state of heightened tension due to the emergence of numerous

‘same-age’ possessed individuals. It seemed like he was excited about the increasing
number of people sharing hometown information in this darn parallel world.
Meanwhile, Yuri remained huddled.
“It, it’s not that my parents are absent; it means I don’t have parents… I’m called Yuri
Frank.” (Yuri)
“Original work?” (Eugene)
“Eek!” (Yuri)
Yuri flinched at Ivan’s words, avoiding eye contact.
A moment of silence passed as everyone focused on her words.
“What’s this, a riddle? I’ll guess! Let’s see. Academy stuff, your dim expression, then
this is a Genben genre…! That’s the flow! Maybe he was a guy in Korea that suddenly
got into a reverse harem…!” (Eugene)
“No!!” (Yuri)
“Or it could be an unexpected traditional fantasy…!” (Eugene)
“W-well, you see…” (Yuri)
“Shut up, Eugene. Now, Yuri Frank. I’ll cast a spell that truly suits you.” (Oswald)
Oswald raised his hand with a warm smile. He was a specialist in mental magic,
capable of using buff skills like [Courage Bestowal] or [Wisdom Guidance].
As the violet mysterious mana began to ripple, Yuri jumped back in a panic.
“H-hypnosis!! I hate it!!” (Yuri)
“…What?!” (Oswald)
“What are you trying to do with that spell! You know everything, don’t you? You
rapist bastards!!” (Yuri)
“I can’t follow the flow of the conversation. Ivan, what is this?” (Oswald)
Ivan hesitated for a moment.
Uncertain about revealing the original work, he was visibly frightened despite his
seemingly ordinary appearance, which was the same for the gentle and always
smiling Oswald.
Ivan was startled by a sudden realization and widened his eyes in astonishment.
“Feminist…?!” (Ivan)
Struggling to recall a term from Earth 30 years ago, Ivan was in shock. While he
grappled with this, Yuri closed her eyes tightly and stammered.
“I, Illustration work… I was pulled in during the process! The, original… original…”
(Yuri)
“Aha! I know! Erotic content!” (Eugene)
“Aaaah!” (Yuri)
Yuri covered her face and hesitated. She wanted to go home; everyone was
unpleasant, and it was scary…
Kim Taeyang, a mesmerizing practical eye catcher, had never thought about
attending an academy with a strong gardener to the point of being suspicious…
As Yuri sniffled, Ivan suddenly muttered.
“Everyone’s in their fourth year.” (Ivan)
“Oh, if I may refer to this gentleman, he’s been at it for a whopping 30 years.”
(Eugene)
“This person, how old is he this year…?” (Oswald)
“He’s 34 in terms of physical age!” (Eugene)
“Oh… I see.”
Oswald looked at Ivan’s beard and sighed heavily. It must have been tough… Oswald
thought he should understand, even if Ivan sometimes acted like a madman.
“By the way, we all fell around the same time! What happened four years ago. Um…”
(Eugene)
“The Demon King died.” (Ivan)
Ivan scanned them with a serious gaze.
“A hero killed the Demon King four years ago. And both of them were possessors.”
(Ivan)
“Oh…”
“In this world, there are no ‘stories.'” (Ivan)
Because this is reality.
Ivan reluctantly affirmed this statement and continued.
“But there are individual ‘stories.’ Each person has their own stories… like the
‘originals’ you all saw. Maximilian, who transcended beyond typical hero tales,
became a ‘hero.’ The Demon King was the same, I suppose.” (Ivan)
“Uh, then…”
“The vagabond master swordsman of the Northern Grand Palace.”
Ivan gestured to Eugene and then turned his fingertip to Oswald.
“The genius wizard pursued by the villainous young lady.”

“Hmm…”
Oswald lowered his head with a somber expression.
“…And. An unnamed erotic content…”
“Uuuaaahhh…!!” (Yuri)
Yuri began to sob.
“All of you started your stories in a background similar to the original. A dissolute
aristocrat, a magician loved by a noblewoman, and an unnamed erotic content…”
(Ivan)
“Stop emphasizing that!” (Yuri)
“Alright. But the remaining stories are different.” (Ivqn)
Ivan’s gaze deepened.
“There was a woman who knew about the possessors of the previous generation. She
told me something.” (Ivan)
“Live your story and conclude it. The ending of your story and the direction it takes
afterward are not determined by fate or the world. It’s something you must decide.”
(Ivan)
“At the end of each individual story, there is an ending, and the direction leading
from that ending is not necessarily determined by fate.” (Ivan)
“Fate doesn’t exist. Whether on Earth or here, life is not trapped within
predetermined storylines.” (Ivan)
“Wait not for fate to conclude your story. My disciple, turn the pages of your book
with your own hands. Until the end.” (Ivan)
Ivan nodded, recalling Enrique’s words.
“After spending 30 years in this world, meeting a hero party, and seeing you again, I
have a hypothesis.” (Ivan)
Ivan walked towards the whiteboard.
“While fate may not determine a person’s future, at least fate intervenes in a person’s
past, in their ‘beginning.'” (Ivan)
Let’s assume that the world desired stories of a Demon King’s role and a hero’s role,
thus possessing them.
And here, after the Demon King’s death, there are three other possessors who
appeared.
They each possessed through entirely different stories but surprisingly had a
‘starting point’ similar to the original.
And all of them gathered at the Yansk University. Is it a tremendous coincidence? No,
it’s some kind of ‘design.’ It must be.
In other words, there may be a tendency for the stories the world desires to exist.
At this point, what can be inferred…
“It’s an academy setting.” (Ivan)
“As expected! Hooray!” (Eugene)
“And we have the ability to monitor the ‘official’ flow in real-time.” (Ivan)
Ivan gestured to Eugene.
“He has a ‘status window.’ It presents the direction of the story in the form of quests,
a dynamically changing type reflecting the current situation.” (Ivan)
“Oh…”
“Now, from this point forward, we…” (Ivan)
Ivan began to write large letters on the whiteboard.
– What stories do we all need?

– What is the ending we all want to reach?
– What should we do in this world?
“We gather to understand this. Understand each of our stories, analyze the flow of
the world, and move forward for our ‘ending.'”
“Oooh…!”
“Ah, wait.” (Eugene)
When Eugene exclaimed, Oswald raised his hand.
“I didn’t hear what Mr. Ivan’s story is.” (Oswald)
“Oh, right! I don’t know either. What was your story, sir?” (Yuri)
“…I don’t know.” (Ivan)
“Huh?”
Ivan calmly spoke, scanning them all with serious eyes.
“I posted negative remarks on over 300 works with the intention of undergoing
reincarnation.” (Ivan)
“Oh… Oh wow.”
“That’s… insane.”
Madman.
Under Ivan’s name in the minds of the three, three red underlines were drawn.
That night, they all stood on the tallest tower of Jan’s University, looking at the sky.
“Alright, Korean Patriots, let’s go!” (Eugene)
“It’s a party of reincarnators, so.” (Oswald)

“I hope you didn’t give it that name.” (Yuri)
Ivan was secretly considering naming it the ‘Volunteer Club.'”

Even if there were a sky-reaching fantasy staircase, there is no such thing on an
airship, and humans don’t have wings.
Therefore, even if it was floating in the sky, motionless, and even if it was completely
unguarded at midnight, it is a very difficult task to infiltrate an airship.
And now they had to infiltrate that airship, intimidate the captain, and deal with the
entire crew without any casualties.
“In naval terms, battleships are often compared to fortresses. If it’s an aerial
battleship, you could even call it a celestial fortress,” Oswald said with a soft smile.
Not entirely wrong, but a tricky statement.
“That guy seems to think he’s a real elf.” (Eugene)
“I am a real elf. Can’t you see my ears?” (Oswald)
“Wow, he’s corrupted to the core. Brother, I have a solution!” Eugene raised his hand
eagerly. When Ivan sighed, he proudly shrugged his shoulders.
“If that elf uses [Feathered Walk], problem solved!” (Eugene)
“How many times do I have to say that I am a specialist in mental magic? Is the
learning ability of humans that low?” (Oswald)
“Wow, this guy really became a full-fledged elf. What’s the point of forming a party
with a magician who can’t even use [Feathered Walk]? Brother, let’s bring someone
from the Magic Department right now. If possible, I prefer someone with damage
specialization.” (Eugene)
“[Mind Split]” As purple mana surged at Oswald’s fingertips, Eugene’s pupils

weakened.
Eugene lowered his head, dropping spit.

Silence fell in the club room.
Useful indeed. Ivan nodded.
“Just wait until evening.” (Ivan)
“Do you think a warship will suddenly land in the evening?” (Oswald)
“No. But there are people who need to go to the ships.” (Ivan)
King Krasilov gave a three-day deadline for the battleship’s withdrawal. That was
yesterday.
And yesterday evening, Elizaveta threatened to shoot it down if it didn’t withdraw

within a day.
The captain of the battleship must be anxious. Now, by tomorrow, the entire royal
court might take military action, or even if not, Elizaveta might come up with some
trick today.
In that case, the captain must contact the crown prince today. It’s the only means to
turn the situation around.
They won’t move during the daytime. As long as the intelligence headquarters exists,
the entire Frechenkaya is within Elizaveta’s sight.
So, in the evening, at least after the sun sets.
“If… assuming the crown prince’s side contacts the battleship, how do we intervene
in between?” (Oswald)
“They will use carriages enchanted with levitation spells.” (Ivan)
“So, can we ask them to make room in the carriage?” (Oswald)
“No.” (Ivan)
Oswald looked suspiciously at him, Yuri still glancing around in fear, and Ivan, after
scanning Eugene, spoke with a serious voice.
“If you have to carry one of them, who would you choose?” (Ivan)
“Uh…?” (Yuri)
“Excluding me. Among those two, whom would you choose to carry?” (Ivan)
Yuri looked at the two young men with trembling eyes. One was Gold Sun, and the
other was Hypnotic Eyes.
Moreover, Hypnotic Eyes just proved his ability by putting Gold Sun under hypnosis
a moment ago.
Yuri tightly bit her lips and managed to answer, “Well, Eugene… I guess.” (Yuri)
“You’d rather carry him…” (Oswald)
Ignoring Oswald, who cringed in hurt, Ivan nodded.
“Well, I’ll carry Oswald then,” Ivan nodded willingly, ignoring Oswald’s twitching
wounded expression.
“Out of the blue, talking about taking us both – don’t tell me…” (Oswald)
“Yeah, we’re going hanging.” (Ivan)
At an altitude of about 800 meters, though significantly lower than typical aircraft in
the modern world, it was an impossible height for people to reach.
Even with advanced earth engineering technology, 800m was at the level of the Burj
Khalifa. In other words, it was a location that could only be reached by the highest
building or means.
If they used another levitated means to reach that height, it would undoubtedly be
observed beforehand.
So, to infiltrate while avoiding detection, they had no choice but to hide underneath
the carriage sent for contact by the Crown Prince.
The problem was whether they had the stamina to hang under the carriage.
Oswald looked impossible, and Eugene wasn’t too enthusiastic. He wasn’t even a
proper swordsman, to begin with.
On the other hand, Yuri was the top student in the Knight Department. Except for
Mord, she was considered the most skilled among the new students. She could
probably carry someone for about 10 minutes.
“Are you saying you’ve hung in the air and infiltrated a battleship before?” (Oswald)
“Fortunately, I’ve done something similar.” (Ivan)
“What kind of life have you lived? Oh, I’m not particularly curious.” (Oswald)
Ignoring Oswald’s words, Ivan stood up. There was much to prepare.
“Get warm clothes, arm yourselves well, and come to the Astronomy Tower in the
Magic Department.” (Ivan)
Except for summer, Krasilov’s seasons were not much different from winter: a short
winter, summer, mid-winter, and another harsh winter.
Hanging from a carriage in the middle of the night, flying at an altitude of 800
meters, meant facing extremely cold weather. The reincarnators pondered Ivan’s
words while trembling.
***
From evening, Ivan and the reincarnators, who had been lying on the rooftop, finally
stood up with stiff bodies after the sun had completely set.
Their hands were stiff from the cold. By the time the reincarnators sighed and
loosened their hands and feet, Ivan finally raised his head.
After darkness covered the sky, a small light flickered momentarily in the dark
distance between the streets, even darker due to the shadow of the giant battleship.
“Get ready.” (Ivan)
Ivan shrugged his shoulders once to loosen up and took out an axe. Swinging the axe
with a rope attached, he extended it straight to measure the distance.
The ropes attached to the two axes were tied to Yuri and Ivan’s waists.
After confirming Yuri carrying Eugene, Ivan slowly pulled his arms back.
“Here they come.”
The reincarnators swallowed nervously. Ivan, gazing straight at the unseen dark
night sky, adjusted the finely-tuned magic flowing through his muscle fibers.
Oswald, who had been on his back, secretly admired the intricate arrangement.
“You go first.” (Ivan)
“Huh? Ah… Hek!!? Kyaaaah!!” (Yuri)
-Whoooooong!!
Without waiting for Yuri’s response, Ivan threw the axe. The hand axe drew a clean
straight line, extending beyond the night sky.
The rope attached to the axe swayed once, and at its end, Yuri, tied to it, flew away as
if being caught.
In an instant, Yuri’s silhouette disappeared into the darkness.
“Hold on tight.” (Ivan)
“Uh, wait a moment. I’m not mentally prepared yet… Wait, wait, it’s better to rethink
this…!!” (Oswald)
-Whoooooong!!!
“Ughhhhh?!!!” (Oswald)
Oswald screamed in terror as he felt the ground rapidly getting distant, foaming at
the mouth from the rough wind striking his cheeks.
The fear of death, a buzzing sound, and a ringing deafness. A sensation of floating as
if suddenly dropped from the sky… Am I insane to plan something like this?! Oswald
screamed involuntarily, tightly gripping Ivan’s shoulders.
“Uggh…! Ughhh…!! Ack…! Uh…?”
The tremendous noise pounding his ears suddenly stopped.
As Oswald looked around with dazed eyes, he saw a pale Yuri and Eugene right
beside him.
They were hanging from the carriage wheels.
“Huh…? Huh huh…?”
“Wow…”
Far away, they could see the Astronomy Tower they had jumped from. Did they really
throw an axe to cross this distance…? They looked at Ivan with newfound eyes.
“But won’t we be noticed like this?” (Eugene)
“Of course, we will.” (Ivan)
The commotion inside the carriage was immediately audible to Ivan’s ears.
The guys inside weren’t whispering, and with the sudden swaying of the carriage
and the addition of the weight of four people, plus getting stuck with an axe, there
was no way they wouldn’t notice.
Right now, they couldn’t open the carriage door or see below the wheels through the
window, so it wouldn’t be a problem. But that was only for a moment.
As soon as they got on the deck, they would be surrounded. Even if Crown Prince
Alexander himself wasn’t on board, since they attacked the carriage carrying his
bodyguards, they would undoubtedly face retaliation.
So, from the beginning, the plan of covert infiltration was impossible.
Realizing this, the reincarnators looked at Ivan with subtle eyes.
“So, what do we do now?”
“Hold on.”
“Huh?”
Ivan, looking straight at somewhere in the night sky, slowly pulled out the axe stuck
in the carriage.
Below the clouds, the aerial battleship was getting closer slowly.
After confirming the light guiding the carriage’s landing point and even the shining
on the deck, Ivan hung Oswald on the carriage wheel and dangled from it with one
hand.
Then, he aimed the drawn axe straight again, turning his head slightly.
“Hey, don’t tell me. Are you abandoning us? Brother, leaving the Patriotic Corps
behind? No friendship?” (Eugene)
Ignoring Eugene’s stammering nonsense, Ivan extended his arm, turning his magical
power behind his back.
If covert infiltration was impossible from the start, wouldn’t it be right to go for a
frontal assault? Of course, it was. The Cleanup Unit always followed the doctrine of
creating enemy confusion just before infiltration.
Not outright abandonment, but a decoy for diverting attention.
Moreover, among the reincarnators, two are nobles, one is a high-ranking military
aristocrat, and one is an elf.
Even if they face opposition, it doesn’t mean they are immediate execution targets.
There was a possibility that, with only students present, it could pass as a childish
prank with little consequence.
Hence, the mention of “strictly no crew casualties” was made to prevent the situation
from escalating to a life-or-death decision.
“We’ll reach soon.” (Ivan)
“No, wait, sir…? Sir!!” (Yuri)
-Booooom!!!
Without waiting for Yuri’s response, Ivan threw the axe towards somewhere in the
night sky. With a powerful recoil, the carriage shook once, and when the
reincarnators opened their eyes again.
Ivan was already gone. He was soaring through the night darkness like an arrow.
“He’s like a crazy flying Santa Claus. We don’t even need Rudolph.” (Eugene)
“Ahahaha… What do we do now?” (Oswald)
“What can we do?” (Yuri)
Looking at the approaching deck, Eugene bit his lip.
“We have to complete the quest.” (Eugene)
If the quest reward is nothing special, I’ll kill that status window guy even if I have to
use any means necessary.
***
Ivan was hanging below the battleship’s hull, inserting an axe into a gun port.
The rough wind brushed against his ears. The sensation of floating beneath his feet,
and the gradually diminishing distance visible beneath like sand particles.
Falling would mean death, no, even the trace of a limb wouldn’t be left at such a
height.
“Hup.”
-Kwack!!
Hanging with one hand from that height, twisting his waist to give recoil, he smashed
the gun port.
-Kwack! Kwack! Kwack!
-Woodddunk!!
Shaking as if it might fall at any moment, steadily and expressionlessly.
Silently. Like chopping wood stepping on solid ground.
Soon, a hole big enough for a person to enter was made as the wooden gun port
crumbled.
-Weeeeiiiing!! Weeeeiiiing!! Weeeeiiiing!!
The indoor warning lights flashed like crazy, and the noise of crew members rushing
out echoed.
Successful diversion.
Ivan nodded numbly and threw himself through the dark opening of the gun port.
Now, here.
The lumberjack has arrived.

“Drop your weapons and surrender!”
A carriage on the back. They seem to have no intention of coming out until the
situation is resolved.
In front of them, numerous elves, grimly wielding menacing weapons and growling.
Nowhere to escape but the vast sky. Falling would be their demise.
“Ha, what a perfect day to die.” (Eugene)
Eugene uttered a joke with a melancholic face. He raised his shield and sword, then
suddenly pushed Yuri forward.
“Huh…?” (Yuri)
“Go, Yuri Frank! A standout student from the Knight Department at Jan’s University!”
(Eugene)
“Huh…?” (Yuri)
Yuri took a hesitant step forward with a bewildered expression.
“Um, I’m a frontliner, but am I really alone? Seriously?” (Yuri)
“I’ve never fought in a battle since I came from the 21st century!” (Eugene)
“I was an illustrator!” (Yuri)
“You’re in the Knight Department!” (Eugene)
“But you also picked up a weapon!” (Yuri)
“This is for self-defense!” (Eugene)

As the two argued, the elves surrounding them looked on with perplexed eyes.
“Who are these people?”
“Seems like human nobles are out for a stroll. Handle them appropriately, don’t kill.”
University students are basically nobles. So capturing them might lead to a deal with
Krasilov and favorable conditions.
The captain sighed, and the crew raised their weapons with trepidation.
Fortunately, their opponents were young humans who seemed to have neither the
will nor the experience to fight.
Behind the two weaponized intruders, a tall man with a flipped hood raised his
hand, sighing deeply.
“Idiots. What kind of party would have one front-line fighter and two back-liners?
Have you never played a game?” (Oswald)
Oswald waved his hand, weaving a peculiar shape with violet magic.
[Grant Courage]. It was a low-level spell, but he knew from experience that Eugene
had no immunity to mental magic.
As if it were expected, Eugene, a being recently transmigrated from the 21st century,
couldn’t resist mental magic that required ‘will.’
-Keiiing-
“Eugh.” (Eugene)
Eugene’s head, under the influence of the spell, drooped.
“W-what did you do?” (Eugene)
“I infused a bit of courage. I’ll support, so buy some time up front. Until Ivan arrives.”
(Oswald)
“Uh… Um. Um, Eugene?” (Yuri)

Yuri mumbled, bowing his head.
“Are you okay?” (Yuri)
“Yes, I’m fine.” (Eugene)
“…Really?” (Yuri)
“My name is Eugene Nobikov Karamzin.” (Eugene)
With a hand wielding a sword, Eugene drew a small symbol and whispered, lips
meeting the blade.
“May the Lord watch over our battle today.” (Eugene)
“Hey, Oswald? Did you cast the wrong spell?” (Yuri)
“Of course not. I used [Grant Valor], but…?” (Oswald)
Ignoring the confused possessed individuals’ conversation, Eugene quietly opened

his eyes.
With determined will shining in his azure eyes, he raised his sword high.
“Praise the glory of the Lord. You are the one who brings peace to this land by
establishing virtue through justice.” (Eugene)
“Uh… um…” (Yuri)
“Did a conflict arise by combining a priest class with a knight class?” (Oswald)
“That’s… possible. Please don’t do that to me. I can handle it myself.” (Yuri)
Had he lost consciousness? Yuri trembled in fear.
Assuming the role of a game setting while losing oneself completely to role-playing
(RP) could lead to such a state.
If Yuri immersed herself in role-playing at the Erotic Academy game setting, what
form would her true self take?
Instead, she’d rather fight with a sword. Fortunately, Yuri excelled in
swordsmanship, being a top student in the Knight Department.
“Oh, heretics! Listen to the holy words of our one true God! Worship and praise!”
(Eugene)
Eugene shouted and rushed forward, swinging his sword suddenly. Bang! With a
loud noise, a bright white light exploded from his blade.
“[Sacred Strike]…!” (Eugene)
“That fool. He should have learned a healing skill instead.”
Yuri and Oswald followed Eugene, complaining as they chased after him.
The three possessed individuals succeeded in causing a commotion on the deck.

Everything was going according to Ivan’s plan.
Walking through the dark corridors of the flashing warning lights, Ivan listened
attentively.
Whee, whee. Amid the loud wailing sirens, he carefully analyzed each small sound.
The repetitive noise echoing through the narrow indoor space could serve as an
indicator for echolocation if the origin of the noise could be distinguished.
Though not as keen as elves, the well-trained agent’s hearing could pinpoint a target
through the echoes created when sound waves bounced off objects.
Using this method, Ivan could sense the presence of the two individuals standing
before turning the corner in the corridor.
-Thunk!
Almost simultaneously with revealing himself in the corridor, shots were fired. The
target, startled, quickly twisted their body, narrowly avoiding the line of fire.
Line of sight detection.
Ivan nodded, pulling out his axe.

“Who’s there!”
The question was wrong. It was an indicator of the trainee elves’ training status.
As per the first principle, questions should be asked after incapacitating the
opponent, and questioning the identity of the opponent when they clearly possessed
hostility was a foolish query.
So, instead of answering, Ivan threw himself. The inexperienced elf trainee had to
pay for the wrong question.
-Whoosh
-Bang!
“Argh!”
The axe spun in the air and struck the elf’s neck, leaving a clean trajectory. The elf
was thrust into the wall with a sound, gasping for breath.
At the same time, Ivan raised his gun, aiming at the approaching figure. Without
aiming, he fired.
-Bang!
“You!!”
Of course, he dodged. The guy had line-of-sight detection. However, that moment
when he turned his body to avoid the line of fire, that brief time was needed.
As the guy turned his body again, Ivan had already swung the axe beneath his chin.
-Bang!
The elf, with his jaw turned, collapsed without even a groan.
Since it was a hit from the back, it was more like hitting him with a short club than
an axe, but as long as he didn’t die, that should be enough.
Ivan kicked the elf, whose jaw was dislocated, aside and moved on.
-Wheeeng!
-Wheeeng!
The sirens loudly echoed through the corridor.
Amidst the noisy corridor with flashing red warning lights, Ivan closed his eyes and
continued walking, calculating the time difference of ultrasound reflecting in every
nook and cranny of the corridor.
Kalion Fleet’s “Wolfstal”-class airship, Captain Onerst of the “Glory of Boyle,” was
furrowing his brows in his cabin.
The last report he received clearly stated, “Unidentified students are attempting an
assault, currently attempting to incapacitate them.”
It happened precisely at the moment when they were preparing to welcome Prince
Alexander’s envoy and prepare for a secret alliance, making the situation somewhat
sensitive, but it wasn’t more than that.
Was it a mistake to anchor a ship above the university in the first place?
If they were young, energetic individuals of that age, they could have at least had a
drink and attempted infiltration using some support magic.
At that age, it’s ordinary to want to prove courage or boldness.
However, however.
“Why is there no additional report?” (Onerst)
He heard that there were three young students.
Since all students at Jan’s University were nobles or at least from influential families,
he ordered them to be captured.
No matter how arrogant an elf might be, it’s not their place to kill students from
another country on foreign territory.
“But even if that were the case, they were just students. Even if they were deep in
their studies, there were limits, and at their age, as daring as they might be, it still
meant ‘student level.’
So, whether they succeeded in capturing them or whether they managed to escape
under the deck, now, ten minutes after the attack, there should be some additional
report.
“Is no one there? Lookouts! Confirm the situation on the deck and report back!”
(Onerst)
He yelled nervously. He couldn’t personally head to the deck.
Prince Alexander’s envoy must have arrived on the deck by now. The captain going to
meet them personally would not be favorable in terms of prestige, and in this
situation preceding the inter-country alliance, underestimating it would be the end.
“Is no one there? What are you all doing! Turn off that damn siren! Can we survive
with this noise!” (Onerst)
Finally, Onerst stood up from his seat.
He crossed the cabin with a stern demeanor, opened the door wide, and yelled.
-Wheeeng!
-Wheeeng!
In the corridor filled with the loud siren, however, there was no sign of any light.
Is it malfunctioning? The thought crossed his mind briefly. However, he soon shook
his head.
There’s no way it’s malfunctioning. This is an attack.
“Damn!”
He grumbled while pressing his temples and quickly hid behind the door. He took
out the ceremonial sword hung on the wall, took a deep breath, and held it up.
“Is it sent by Elizaveta!”

“…”
“Damn it, answer if you’re there! An attack by students. Ridiculous. They’re even
using a dual operation and exploiting students!?” (Onerst)
The situation on the deck is unclear, but at least it seems the situation hasn’t ended
yet.
Even if they brought an impressive force, with only three individuals, it would be
impossible to eliminate all the crew members within ten minutes.
So, for now, they endure. Prince Alexander may consider military intervention once
he understands the situation.
Neither Onerst nor Alexander would want to be exposed to Elizaveta at this point.
Then, a voice echoed.
“The court minister must have clearly said.” (Ivan)
“What…?” (Onerst)
Onerst turned his head at the low voice heard from the end of the corridor.
The distance, probably the end of the corridor in front of the captain’s cabin. At that
distance, even if they threw a large-scale destruction spell, it wouldn’t reach the
captain’s cabin.
He nodded and intertwined his fingers. Magic burned bright blue and extended from
his fingertips.
At that moment.
-Boom—!!
With a noise tearing through the air.
-Kwaaaang!!
‘Something’ that passed through the open door slammed down on the captain’s
cabin table.
A spell? Destructive magic? Onerst quickly turned his head. If it was an explosive
spell, he needed to prepare a defensive spell.
“…An axe?”
Half of a rope-attached axe was stuck in the captain’s cabin table, somewhat
shattered.
Onerst mumbled in disbelief.
“The lumberjack… was real?”
It was a straightforward expression without any mixed metaphors or malice.
Onerst laughed in disbelief.
With a sound, the axe’s attached rope was pulled tight.
-Thunk!
The axe was pulled out along the rope, and with its elasticity, it whirled around,
hitting Onerst’s leg.
“Groan!”
Fortunately, it hit his back, not his head. Onerst rolled on the floor with a broken
ankle, avoiding the range of the axe.
The axe disappeared into the darkness at the end of the corridor, as if being sucked
in. When Onerst struggled to get up, a steady sound of footsteps echoed in the
darkness.
A bluish glow flickered between the shadows.
Soon, a shaggy beard.
Muscular arms like snakes, and the axe blade firmly bound to his hand.
Up to the gun pointing at him.
“Let’s negotiate.” (Onerst)
“That wasn’t the order I heard.” (Ivan)
-Boom—!
A spark flew from the end of the gun in the dark corridor.
Author’s Comment: Resonance Positioning: A technique that gauges the direction

and distance of an object and oneself by listening to the echoes of ultrasound waves
reflected within a specific space. Similar to bat ultrasound, humans can also use this
technology to some extent!
Shots whizzed past. Onerst swiveled his head to avoid the bullet.
It was a precise strike aimed at the forehead. Damn it, Onerst gritted his teeth and
stumbled backward.
“Fuck, are you serious? Dare to assassinate the captain within Kalion’s warship?
Don’t think you can get away from this, soldier!”
“Get away from what?”
Ivan approached, turning his axe, not hastily narrowing the distance.
He slowly examined the guy’s condition. A mage-warrior. Proficient in

swordsmanship.
Most elves don’t wield swords, especially officer ranks.
Elven military officers are all high-ranking nobles, and elven nobles disdain
sweating.
However, some of them wield swords. This complicates matters.
Despite the disdain of others, mastering swordsmanship implies significant

potential, given the long life of the elf race.
Elves mostly detest close combat, but paradoxically, the best sword user in the world
is an elf. She was rumored to be a former mentor to a Hero.
In other words.
Being a sword-wielding mage elf officer made Ivan overwhelmed. Even if he had
broken one of his legs in her first raid.
“Elizaveta sent an impressive hunting dog. What’s your name, soldier?”

“Do you think delaying time will benefit you?”
Onerst frowned at Ivan’s words. He’s quick-witted.
He licked his lips briefly.
He couldn’t weave spells recklessly. For those classified as ‘superhuman’, the distance
between him and Ivan is less than a step.
They were within each other’s attack range.
After a brief standoff, the elf sighed and shrugged his shoulders.
“Alright. I surrender, soldier!”
“Throw your sword.”
“In your dream, you didn’t guarantee that you would cut my throat right away.”
He wasn’t wrong. But Ivan narrowed his eyes.
The elf surrendering so quickly? Without even fighting properly? Not to mention an
officer-level noble?
That’s impossible.
Ivan raised his axe silently. Surrender can be done after neutralizing the threat.
Watching this, Onerst licked his lips.
“Damn. Fine. Take it.”
And he threw the sword with all his might towards Ivan.
-Clang!
As Ivan deflected the flying blade, Onerst was already leaping backward, reaching
into his pouch.
Ivan leaped towards Onerst, lowering his stance. No silhouette of a sergeant’s rank
was visible beneath the tightly closed uniform.
So, what could come out of there? Pistol, dagger, or explosive magical weapon.
Among them, the possibility of the latter is the highest and the most annoying.
“Lord… Veolgrin!” (Onerst)
“…?” (Ivan)
Why did that man’s name suddenly come up?
Ivan shook off the momentary confusion that overwhelmed him. Now was not the
time to ponder such things.
Shouting technical names or calling out prominent figures was generally a foolish
tactic.
Ivan pounded the ground and leaped, wielding his axe. There was no time to
delicately strike with the axe’s back. He raised the blade straight and brought it
down towards Onerst’s forearm.
Facing a suspicious magical device, there was no room for complacency.
-Click.
As expected, what Onerst pulled from his pouch was a small bead-shaped magical
device. It had a densely packed violet aura, looking extremely ominous.
Just before Ivan’s axe could split Onerst’s forearm, his thumb firmly pressed the top
of the magical device.
And then, a shockwave erupted.
-Kwaaaaaaaah!!
Ivan thought as he was thrown back by the violent shockwave.
Mission failed. Self-destructing.

The mission assigned by Elizaveta was to secure the captain of the warship and the
rendezvous site with Alexander.
But who would have expected the captain to press the self-destruct switch out of the
blue? How could one anticipate and prepare for that?
Feeling the ringing in his ears from the rough shockwave, Ivan fell into a corner of
the corridor.
“Ugh.”
Groans escaped as his lungs squeezed in the impact. However, his complexion
remained calm.
Checking the condition of his limbs, ensuring the movements of fingertips and toes
were normal, he then dusted off his body.
It was a well-practiced ‘equipment check’ honed through long training. A trained

agent’s body is a type of equipment.
“For being caught in close-range explosive, it’s surprisingly intact.”
Ivan thought as he raised his body amidst the aftershocks. The explosion slightly
shook his vision. As the ringing in his ears gradually subsided, the sound of sirens
echoed again in the corridor.
A good sign. Even his hearing was normal.
“This is unexpected.”
And soon, Ivan stiffened at the sound he heard. A very familiar voice. A voice that
shouldn’t be heard here.
In the trembling sight, a distinctive emerald flame.
Burning from below the two eyes, a manifestation of reincarnation.
Even the magical power arrangement was too familiar.
“Seriously… Veolgrin…?” (Ivan)

“Yeah. Why are you here? Were you alive?” (Veolgrin)
The uniform in tatters, the physique and height visible beneath, and even the
appearance—all belonged to Onerst. But…
Ivan realized reflexively. This guy’s ‘soul’ had changed.
“Possession?” (Ivan)
“An interesting choice of words. This is called the ‘Soul Transfer Spell.'” (Veolgrin)
Mage of the Hero Party. Fortress Destroyer Veolgrin.
Filled with familiar magical power, a familiar voice, and an all-too-familiar arrogance,
one of the greatest mages in existence spoke.
“Where is Alexander, and why are you here?” (Veolgrin)
“…” (Ivan)
Veolgrin appearing in this place was unexpected. After all, it was something that
couldn’t be anticipated in the first place.
But more than that, Ivan recalled the nature of this mission.
‘Confirm the connection between Prince Alexander and the elven captain. And gather
evidence.’
‘Elven captain… No, this aerial battleship is likely experiencing a malfunction.’
‘Elizaveta designed it so that Prince Alexander would be the only option the captain
could choose.’
‘And Veolgrin’s words.’
“Where is Alexander, and why are you here?” In this dry question lay a deep
implication, and Ivan furrowed his brow.
Veolgrin had presented a magical device containing the ‘Soul Transfer Spell’ to the
captain from the beginning.
Why? To face Alexander.
Then… why?
Because he joined hands with Alexander.
“Was it planned from the beginning?”
“Hmm. Kalion’s aerial battleship is an embodiment of military technology. It’s not

likely to malfunction suddenly after only about a fortnight of operation, is it?”
Moreover, this warship had set sail primarily to safely escort Veolgrin’s daughter,
Elpheira.
She was one of the strongest elves and the daughter of mage in the Hero Party. Even
among the numerous high-ranking nobles in Kalion, she held a unique position.
The ship set sail just a fortnight ago to guard against factors that might threaten her.
Unless someone intentionally caused the malfunction.
A shiver ran down Ivan’s spine at the thought.
“Right. It was to provoke Princess Elizaveta from the beginning. If that little one gets
angry, isn’t it obvious that Alexander would come into contact?”
“Why? Why did you stoop to such tricks?”
“Well.”
Veolgrin smirked. Flicking his fingertips to manipulate magical power, he suddenly

asked.
“Where does your loyalty lie, agent?”
“To His Majesty the Great.”
“As always. Admirable. If you were going to live, you should have at least paid your
respects. Our friendship hasn’t reached that level, huh.”
Ivan listened to Veolgrin’s words and gripped his axe.
Fortunately, his physical abilities were normal. The shockwave that had thrown him
back wasn’t an offensive spell in the first place.
Can he win against Veolgrin head-on?
The moment he thought about it, he knew. It’s impossible.
But can Veolgrin exert all his original strength?
Probably not. The sensed magical power amount was nothing compared to the
captain’s.
“Oh, planning to fight. Well… you’ve always been like that. ‘Little’ Ivan.”
“Any other choice?”
“Of course. But it doesn’t seem like you would make such a choice. Come on. Let’s see
your skills after a long time.”
While the captain’s magical power was more than that of a human, the gap wasn’t
despairingly wide.
In other words, it means a difference worth exploring.
However… even if he possesses that level of magical power, if Beolgrin himself is

controlling that body, can there really be a chance of victory?
‘No.’
Ivan was well aware of his own limits. It was one of the most crucial virtues of a
trained agent.
Since he had to perceive himself as a tool for mission accomplishment, he needed to

precisely understand his catalog specifications.
Therefore, Ivan knew that he had no chance. Beolgrin would effortlessly dismantle
him with merely half the magical power at that level.
However, however…
The chance of victory was not important.
“Learn a move or two.”
Ivan gripped his axe with deeply sunken eyes.
Victory wasn’t important.
Can it be done or not, that kind of thing was never considered important.
Should it be done? If it should, then somehow, in any situation. Do your best

regardless of the circumstances.
As a trained agent, one should fear not failure but giving up.
***
Decisions in the shortest possible moment, and actions as swiftly as possible.
The moment Ivan decided to attack, he threw himself into action. Straight towards
Veolgrin.
A sense of dissection, breaking down the moment into microseconds.
A sensation of air resistance hitting the body, slowing down the flow of time itself.
The heightened senses of the ‘Transcendent’ entering at the moment when magical
power was forcibly activated by striking it into the nerves.
A fleeting moment of visualizing the instant. This moment was the battlefield of the
Transcendents.
In this time where even breathing fragmented, Ivan’s axe flowed through the air like
levitating. Smoothly, sharply, but robustly.
-Woooom—!!
Right at the moment when the emerald green magical power was forming.
He had torn away a layer of magic.
He made contact. Beolgrin.
Ivan looked at him, speaking with his eyes, and prepared for the next strike.
At the moment when he stripped away the magic just before completion, considering
the time it would take to cast the next spell, Ivan’s axe would undoubtedly be faster.
So, he made contact. In the same position as the giants he had faced in those times.
“Excellent.”
A voice mixed with laughter gently resonated.
-Whoosh—!!
A light resistance blocked his path. Ivan immediately reacted and twisted his waist.
Through the gap, five sharp ice spears pierced through.
A speed that surpassed diagonal detection. A completed magic the moment the spell
was consciously initiated.
The time from perceiving the moment until Ivan readjusted his stance and raised his
axe was still just a moment in the fractionated moment.
However, at the end of that short clash.
“Ha.”
Easily visible, more than forty distinctly structured magics were inscribed in the air.
Veolgrin smiled gently and clapped his hands.
“Show me more. How much have you grown?”
Ivan, realizing this, gritted his teeth and rushed forward.

“Lord, use me as an instrument of your peace!” (Eugene)
“Don’t talk nonsense; focus!” (Oswald)
Eugene continued to shoot down the elves with his fiercely burning eyes.
Seeing the white light on the edge of the sword burst with each stroke, it seemed his
‘god’ was quite satisfied with his prayers.
But no matter how exceptional they were, they were still students. Their skills might
surpass their grade, but the quality of experience was different.
“We’re getting pushed! We’re getting pushed!” (Yuri)
“I know! Hold on!” (Oswald)
Oswald and Yuri swung their hands in frustration. The advancing army, with solid
defenses, faced no apparent way to break through.
These were troops who had experienced the era of the demon war. Even though it
had been only four years since the advent of peace, they were still soldiers who
remembered their active duty.
In other words, facing these excessively elite forces as the first opponents for 21st-
century reincarnators with almost no combat experience was a challenge.
If the goal was assassination from the beginning, the battle would have ended
sooner. The commander laughed.
“Students, enough of this, put down your weapons!”
“When is Mr. Ivan coming?!” (Yuri)
As Yuri’s tearful scream grew sharper, the deck began to shake.

– Creak, creak, creak…!
“What the…?!”
“Wheelhouse, get to the wheelhouse, what’s going on, officer on duty!”
“Where’s the captain?!”
A massive shock, like the explosion of the hull, struck the deck along with the sound
of bones grinding and rumbling from below.
Soldiers and transmigrants staggered and fell to the ground.
“What is this?” (Oswald)
“Did Mr. Ivan do this…?” (Yuri)
Oswald steadied himself on the floor, then suddenly raised his head.
A tremendous flow of magic… no, magic infused with advanced techniques was
visible.
Emerald magic poured into the cabin like a torrent. Thud, crash. The explosive
sounds approached.
“No, it’s not Mr. Ivan. This is…” (Oswald)
Oswald squinted his eyes. Soon, a dense magical power gathered on the deck.
“Dodge!!”
– Kwaaaang!
Throwing Eugene, who was under the influence of a courage buff, Yuri grabbed
Oswald’s neck and jumped back. A large crack appeared in the middle of the deck,
and something bounced out.
The object, rotating gracefully in mid-air like a gymnast, landed near the
transmigrants. It was a neatly executed parachute descent.
“It’s Mr. Ivan!” (Yuri)
“Hmm.” (Ivan)
A pungent smell emanated from Ivan’s body as he calmly faced them with an axe in
hand.
“Excellent! To cultivate such determination in a world preserved by peace!”

(Veolgrin)
“V-Veolgrin, sir?!”
The crew’s eyes widened as if not expecting Veolgrin to pop out. Ivan narrowed his
eyes at their reaction. What’s going on? Did he deceive even his fellow elves?
Why go through such a covert method if the Kalion faction wanted to support
Alexander on a national level?
“Uh, Mr. Ivan. Could you please explain what’s going on…” (Oswald)
Oswald looked at the floating Veolgrin with a confused expression.
As an elf himself, he had encountered Veolgrin a few times—an overwhelming, truly

overpowering wizard.
This being was now floating above them, preparing an attack spell.
“In short… I almost succeeded.” (Ivan)
Veolgrin looked down at Ivan with a smile mixed with laughter. He had lost one arm.
He spoke with a wry smile.
“Ivan, I was surprised to see you show up, but… well, I guess I provoked Princess
Elizaveta more than I thought I would. I planned to sneak around in a more friendly
situation.” (Veolgrin)
As he raised his remaining hand, emerald magic surged intensely. Ivan prepared to
throw his axe, observing the scene closely.
If at least one of the reincarnators could attract Veolgrin’s attention, they might have
a chance.
However, the battlefield and the situation weren’t favorable.
“We’ll meet again later. For now, things don’t look good.” (Veolgrin)
“Veolgrin.” (Ivan)
“How much do you know about Crown Prince Alexandre, and are you still loyal to
your king despite knowing ‘that’?” (Veolgrin)
“…What?” (Ivan)
Veolgrin waved his hand. Powerful magic formed a grip and lifted a carriage that had
been stuck in a corner of the deck.
Inside the carriage, there was commotion and screams. Soon, with a thud, the door
opened.
“Come out.” (Veolgrin)
“What, what is all this commotion…! W-We are here for the secret medicine…!” (Man
inside carriage)
“Hush, be quiet.” (Another man inside carriage)
Veolgrin swung his remaining arm. The middle-aged man who had raised his head
outside the carriage floated into the air, drawn by magic.
“So, Alexander indeed didn’t come by himself. Who are you?” (Veolgrin)
“I-I’m Nikolai Slobodanovich Ryurik…! I-I am delegated with full authority from the
Foreign Ministry of this country! Y-You can’t harm me!”
“Oh, you’re the one making such claims. Do you even know who you’re talking to?”
(Veolgrin)
Veolgrin chuckled and approached the man slowly.

He placed his remaining hand on the man’s head and whispered softly.
“Speak. Where is Crown Prince Alexander right now?” (Veolgrin)
Under Veolgrin’s hand, emerald magic surged. The magic, like a snake, penetrated
into the ears and eyes of the man.
The man’s facial expression gradually disappeared. He murmured with a vacant face.
“He is currently waiting at the Foreign Ministry…”
“A person who knows nothing. It was a waste of time.” (Veolgrin)
With a sharp sound, the man’s head slumped. Veolgrin, who tossed the man away
like garbage, descended slowly onto the deck.
“What is all this about? Veolgrin, what were you planning?” (Ivan)
Ivan opened his eyes narrowly.
Stimulating Elizaveta to make contact with Alexander, naturally, Kalion’s faction

attempted to interfere in internal affairs by supporting Crown Prince Alexander.
No other speculation seemed possible in this situation.
However, Veolgrin suddenly killed the envoy. And asking about Alexander’s location?
“He is not in the city at this time. Hmm… There are many untold stories between us,
but it’s difficult to bring them up.” (Veolgrin)
Veolgrin hesitated several times, then frowned.
“A deadlock. If you couldn’t figure it out by yourself, I couldn’t tell you. Unfortunately,
magicians tend to be entangled in mysteries.” (Veolgrin)
“Why didn’t you explain to me from the beginning? If you didn’t plan to join
Alexander, you could have told me beforehand…” (Ivan)
“Then I wouldn’t have been able to verify your credentials, and I wouldn’t have
known which side you stood on. I thought you were already dead. It was necessary.”
(Veolgrin)
Veolgrin shrugged. His magic slowly waned, becoming faint.
“We don’t have much time left. Someday, you may come to my tower in Kalion. You
probably won’t be able to confront me directly… Ivan. Our rear guard. You have the
qualifications.” (Veolgrin)
“What qualifications are you talking about?” (Ivan)
“The qualifications to turn over the final page of truth. The qualifications to look at
the pawns on this chessboard. Ah, this. Damn it.” (Veolgrin)
A rift appeared on Veolgrin’s face like a crack. He touched his face again and sighed.
“It’s too cruel not to say even this much. Wizards are generally talkative.” (Veolgrin)
“What should I do?” (Ivan)
“Prepare. This game seems to be related to that university below us. Many days are
spread out under there.” (Veolgrin)
“Prepare…?” (Ivan)
“They aren’t bad, but they weren’t prepared from the beginning. Suddenly appearing
on the chessboard… well, playing cards, shall we say. So, pay attention to the chess
pieces too. Take care of my daughter.” (Veolgrin)
Veolgrin’s face gradually faded. Just before he completely disappeared, he looked

straight at Ivan and grinned.
Although no voice was heard, Ivan instinctively read his lips with his lip-reading
technique.
-Maximilian is not gone.
With a small laugh, Veolgrin’s magic completely faded away.
The commotion on the deck did not reach the citizens of Frechenkaya. It seemed like
the ship was floating in the sky as usual.
Ivan and the transmigrants received a nervous farewell from the scared captain and
were able to descend to the ground. With the overturned carriage left in a corner of
the alley, Ivan scanned the transmigrants.
A game board.
Like cards thrown onto a chessboard. Perhaps it could be interpreted as a mixture of

games with different rules.
What story did they need? What story was prepared, and what kind of flow was
being induced?
Who is the hand on the board?
A god?
Ivan looked at Eugene, who could use divine magic. Due to the end of the [Grant
Courage] buff, Eugene had an exhausted expression on his face.
“Do you still have the divine spell slot?” (Ivan)
“Yes? Oh, yes.” (Eugene)
“Hmm.”
Unlike regular magic, divine spells were a kind of blessing directly bestowed by a
deity. It was a spell unfolded using the human body as a medium to represent the
will of the gods.
In other words, the term “divine spell slot” meant nothing other than Eugene’s
‘status bar’ having received divine authorization.
No, perhaps it could be an incarnated deity created by the damn modern fantasy
world’s personification of gods, acting as a conversation interface.
Especially considering the meticulous implementation, including detailed things like

the quest window.
“You’ve been through a lot today. Go rest, see you tomorrow.” (Ivan)
“Uh, sir. Is it just ending like this?” (Yuri)
“Tomorrow.”
Ivan glanced at the departing transmigrants and then turned away.
It wasn’t the right time to take them to the reporting spot. Especially in a situation
like this, where they shouldn’t get deeply involved. Particularly in this case, it would
be better if they didn’t become further entangled.
If it was a simple matter involving the conflict between a princess and a prince, it
might be better to decisively pick a side if victory was certain.
However, since the news that the prince in Frechenkaya wasn’t himself, this case had
surpassed the level that students could handle.
Especially young kids in their fourth year of transmigration.
It’s been a few years.
Walking through the nighttime streets, Ivan pondered.
Thinking about the last appearance of Colonel Kirilovna, Ivan headed towards the
reconnaissance headquarters.
It was time to face the princess.

When Ivan arrived at the intelligence headquarters, everyone, from the sentries to
the agents guarding the desks, stood up and faced him.
“Oh my God, is it real?”
“Little Ivan…”
Whispers filled the headquarters as Ivan walked, quietly bowing behind him and
standing stiffly in front of him.
Suddenly, one agent, meeting Ivan’s gaze, hastily raised his hand in salute and
approached.
“Ah, it’s an honor to meet you, Lieutenant Petrovich!”
“You know me?” (Ivan)
“I do.”
The young man who met Ivan’s gaze trembled and quickly spoke.
“We are the generation that learned from the manual you wrote!”
“Oh, that.” (Ivan)
Ivan nodded, recalling that he had written something like a diary, detailing his
experiences infiltrating the demon-residing areas and assassinating enemies in the
field.
And, as is typical with diaries, it’s quite embarrassing when someone reads what
you’ve written. Ivan turned his head expressionlessly.
“Have you come to meet Lieutenant Cherkatov?”
“Uhm. I have a matter to report directly to Kirilovna, Her Highness the Royal
Chancellor.” (Ivan)
“…I will escort you to the East Palace. Please follow me.”
Ivan nodded briefly and followed the unknown agent. The suffocating silence hung
heavily.
Reporting directly to the princess? How significant could this matter be?
The agents, each in a firm posture, bowed respectfully behind Ivan and left for their
respective positions. A sense of impending busyness lingered.
Regardless of what might happen, if ‘Little’ Ivan is personally involved with the
princess, the repercussions would undoubtedly affect them.
Krasilov East Palace was a massive marble structure built solely for the princess.
Due to the princess’s personality, it showed a tendency to pursue extreme

practicality rather than the grandeur of a palace, but the building, with its size and
symbolism alone, left a strong impression.
Ivan descended in front of the grand gate adorned with relief carvings. The agent
driving the carriage saluted without a word and disappeared beyond the distance.
No one would find it strange that someone was watching in front of the palace.
However, Ivan paid little attention.
“Dmitri.” (Ivan)
“Oh, Senior!” (Dmitry)
Dmitri, who seemed not fully awake, appeared as soon as he received the report. He
combed his hair with his fingers and smiled amiably.
“Let’s go straight in! Her Highness is already waiting.” (Dmitry)
“You knew I would come?” (Ivan)
“Well, you didn’t sleep in the barracks tonight!” (Dmitry)

Dmitri chuckled, thinking of Elizaveta, who was likely pacing anxiously.
If the mission succeeded, the airborne battleship should have disappeared from the
Frechenkaya airspace. And if the mission failed, news of Ivan’s demise would have
spread.
Any news makes it difficult to sleep. Anticipating Elizaveta’s worry, Dmitri, too, was
handling his duties with a distracted gaze.
“Her Highness is in the audience. Let’s go!” (Dmitry)
The princess’s balcony faced the direction of the main road leading to Jan’s
University, meaning that sitting on the balcony, one could see airships in the sky.
A woman, resolute yet profoundly complex, waited there, gazing at the sky,
anticipating the outcome of the mission.
Dmitri walked ahead, smiling faintly.
Our meeting should have happened at a more suitable time and place.
In the end, their reunion wasn’t as romantic as she might have hoped. Dmitry
chuckled, recalling Elizaveta’s words.
Ivan, lost in thought, headed towards the balcony, remembering the last image he
had of Elizaveta.
“Sorry. I’m truly sorry, Vanka. Really, sincerely sorry.” (Elizaveta)
On that rainy day, she stood, choked with tears. A petite woman, Ivan wondered how
such a woman could be born from the sturdy royal lineage.
“You… You had the right to resent me, to resent this country. Even if you had run away, I
wouldn’t have blamed you.” (Elizaveta)
He remembered what he had said to the weeping princess in the rain.
It was easy for Ivan to recall.
“Do you happen to have roses?” (Ivan)

“What…?” (Elizaveta)
“Cherenovika liked roses.” (Ivan)
It was a funeral hall and, at the same time, a burial ground. A place where no
tombstones stood, and no one paid any respects. A funeral hall for those who were
supposed to be forgotten.
Until the building became the intelligence headquarters, it was a desolate square in a
corner of the war-ravaged Frechenkaya city, with no shelter to shield from the rain.
In the cold winter rain, Elizaveta, with a melancholic face, asked while getting wet.
“Do you remember what others liked?” (Elizaveta)
“Yes, all of them.” (Ivan)
“Tell me. I will remember.” (Elizaveta)
That was enough. Ivan began speaking quietly. When his words were finished,
Elizaveta whispered softly.
“Roses, chocolate cake, musk perfume, silk coat hanger…” (Ivan)
Reciting the names of the departed agents and what they liked, Elizaveta murmured
repeatedly.
As the falling rain diminished, she looked up at him with wet eyes, reaching out her
arms.
It was cold. The slender fingers of Elizaveta’s hand, stroking his cheek, felt chilled,
perhaps from the cold.
Feeling Elizaveta’s hand on his cheek, Ivan stood there motionless.
“Vanka, please live quietly. Don’t be noticed by anyone. So this country can forget you.”
(Elizaveta)
As a specialized agent trained in covert skills, Ivan could read even the murmurs
Elizaveta didn’t utter.
Only I should be able to remember you.
Others in this country don’t have the right.
“But don’t ruin your face. Um… yes. How about growing a beard, like a grandfather?”
(Elizaveta)
“Beard… you mean?” (Ivan)
“Yes, like a grandfather. It might suit you well.” (Elizaveta)
Thinking of the majestic king’s face, Ivan nodded slightly. It was indeed a handsome
beard, exuding a dignified and manly charm.
After a while standing in the rain, Ivan turned around and left.
That was the last encounter between him and the princess. Four years had passed
since then.
Thanks to the princess’s help, many had forgotten him.
Fortunately, being a high-ranking officer who had once led enemies in the Royal
Guard, his name remained on the national cemetery.
Passing through the entrance of the memorial, a vast garden appeared.
Magically tended flowers bloomed gracefully under the night sky.
Ivan paused for a moment.
Roses, lilies, freesias… To someone, the scene might look like a haphazardly
cultivated flowerbed, but Ivan knew. This was a memorial park for those who had
fallen in the past war.
They had somehow found out about the flowers the deceased preferred and planted
them, ensuring they would bloom throughout the seasons.
So that they would never be forgotten.
“Your Highness, your subject Dmitry Cherkatov has arrived.” (Dmitry)

“Come closer.” (Elizaveta)
A cold voice echoed. Beyond the garden, a long outdoor table was visible.
Under the moonlight, the table sparkled white, adorned with simple refreshments.
A small woman behind the table, sifting through papers, came into view.
“Vanka. It’s been a while.” (Elizaveta)
The woman, neatly arranging her silver hair and securing it with a blue pin, wore not
the military uniform Ivan remembered, but a royal dress.
In a blue dress, the woman looked up at him.
While Ivan pondered his words, her eyes widened in shock.
“Oh… heavens…” (Elizaveta)
Being a trained agent, Ivan could deduce the words she had swallowed through lip-
reading.
“What on earth have I done…” (Elizaveta)
Her gaze was fixed on Ivan’s jaw.
***
It took some time for Elizaveta to recover from the shock.
She struggled not to look directly at Ivan’s face, coughing several times.
When Ivan finished his report, she had regained her composure with a cold
expression.
“Veolgrin personally appeared and said so.” (Elizaveta)
“Yes, Your Highness.” (Ivan)
“Hmm.” (Elizaveta)
Elizaveta tapped the table thoughtfully.
After a while, she looked up at the sky. Stars were scattered across the dark night sky.
“Vanka, my most trusted lumberjack.” (Elizaveta)
“You’ve met my father. What do you think?” (Elizaveta)
“…The King…” (Ivan)
Listening to Ivan’s words, Elizaveta chuckled and spoke.
“The King, indeed. Is that how you see it?” (Elizaveta)
“…” (Ivan)
“A foolish fellow who believes that everything will be solved by keeping his mouth
shut and sitting still. I would willingly despise my father. That’s what I should do.”
(Elizaveta)
It was their last moment together, and then four years passed.
Her eyes were burning fiercely.
“The United Kingdom feared a well-worn sword. Do you know that? If the Hero Party
hadn’t disbanded, there would have been a second war. A war recorded in history as
a conflict between individuals and groups.” (Elizaveta)
Since the advent of the Demon King, the rulers of the United Kingdom were deeply
troubled.
Not only was the enemy’s military strength formidable, but the presence of
individuals overwhelming military forces was even more frightening.
The existence of individuals capable of facing groups is, in itself, a challenge to

authority.
Therefore, if the Hero Party had not disbanded, and if they had not returned to their
respective homes, the world would have faced a second war.
“Maximilian said he wasn’t gone… And Veolgrin is looking for my doppelganger.”

(Elizaveta)
“I will personally deal with the ‘fake’ me in this city. Don’t worry about it. But, well…
Why did the ‘real’ me form an alliance with the great mage of the Hero Party?”
(Elizaveta)
Elizaveta’s eyes gleamed sharply.
“Assuming, like the reasons you had to be disbanded back then, the Hero Party also
had such reasons, what if we consider that? Setting aside others, if you had to
assume there was one person who must be eliminated, who would that be?”
(Elizaveta)
“…Maximilian.” (Ivan)
“Yes. That’s right. The strongest of humanity. The Golden Emperor. Maximilian, the
‘Demon King Slayer.’ That man.” (Elizaveta)
Veolgrin had planned all of this to locate the real crown prince.
If he mentioned Maximilian’s hideout in the midst of that, it’s reasonable to

speculate that there was some meaningful connection between the two.
Now, there was only one question left.
‘How.’
How could they dare to ‘eliminate’ that sturdy man?
What measures should be taken to eliminate him? Was it even possible? Even Ivan,
who knew many strong individuals in the United Kingdom, couldn’t easily think of a
solution.
If the Hero Party members attacked Maximilian, it might be possible.

But that wasn’t happening. And if it wasn’t such a case, Maximilian would never have
fallen into human hands.
“Wait. I will find out that method… and the reason it had to be done.” (Elizaveta)
“Yes.” (Ivan)
“Sit. The guest has been standing for too long. Please forgive me.” (Elizaveta)
Ivan sat in the prepared seat. A maid approached and poured warm tea into his cup.
-Drip.
Elizaveta pulled a chair and sat next to him.
“Now, let’s postpone talking about business. For now, yes. Can you enjoy the
present?” (Elizaveta)
“…” (Ivan)
“Four years. Vanka. I hoped our meeting would be more romantic than this, but well,
the world doesn’t always flow as expected.” (Elizaveta)
They sat side by side, looking at the garden.
Under the moonlight, the shining flowers swayed lightly in the breeze.
“Do you recognize it?” (Elizaveta)
“I haven’t forgotten.” (Ivan)
The small woman, who still didn’t reach his chest, faintly smiled.
It was a smile that retained traces of the lively times, which were still vibrant despite
the deep scars and pain.
“Come to my office’s terrace, and you’ll see this garden straight ahead.” (Elizaveta)
“Your Highness, I hope you won’t see the flowers.” (Ivan)
“Hmm?” (Elizaveta)
“When Your Highness visited me, you said something to me.” (Ivan)
Ivan chose his words carefully, recalling the time when he served in the Royal Guard.
“‘It is your duty to be the King’s instrument of war, and I wished to spend my time
looking at the sky rather than the land.’” (Ivan)
“…” (Elizaveta)
Elizaveta silently stroked the teacup. Ivan raised his head and looked at the sky.
Stars were scattered like grains of sand in the night sky.
In this fantasy world of the pre-modern era, it might be one of the few advantages
that the night sky is beautiful.
In a calm voice, Ivan spoke.
“Your Highness, you said that when you look at flowers, you remember those who
left, but that is not right. Do you remember our precepts?” (Ivan)
“Do not mourn those who have left.” (Elizaveta)
“Yes, we too stand in the same ranks as them. We are all those who will eventually
leave this land.” (Ivan)
Elizaveta closed her eyes at Ivan’s words.
He poured tea into Elizaveta’s cup and handed it to her.
The white teacup was gently warming up with black tea. It was comforting.
“Your Highness, please continue the legacy of the Sun King. Look at the sky, not the
land. When you draw those who have left, look at the night sky.” (Ivan)
Elizaveta opened her eyes at his words. The night sky was not dark. Beyond the black
sky, between the suddenly emerging clouds, the starlight spread out gracefully.
“Don’t draw the departed ones from flowers. Please count us as stars. They, too, must
be hoping for that from you.” (Ivan)
“Vanka…” (Elizaveta)
Elizaveta looked away from the night sky and turned her gaze towards Ivan.
With tear-filled eyes, she stared at Ivan for a while and then reached out quietly.
The hand that held the warm teacup was placed gently on his cheek. After watching
him for a moment, Elizaveta asked quietly.
“How about trimming your beard a bit?” (Elizaveta)
“…I sincerely refuse.” (Ivan)
“If I command?” (Elizaveta)
“I’ve already resigned.” (Ivan)
“Seems like you’ve only become more eloquent since then.” (Elizaveta)
After saying something that would vehemently protest when Enrique hears it,
Elizaveta burst into laughter.
“May is luminous, and our growth continues~~” (Yuri)
“I wonder, do today’s children still recognize that tune?” (Yuri)
“Ivan was the youngest among us in our reincarnation. Feel free to inquire with him.”
(Oswald)
“…?!” (Yuri)
In the eerie club room where the peculiar amalgamated entities still lacked
designated names, a somber atmosphere of pain and sorrow lingered among them.
The three fusion beings lay scattered among piles of books, each with a vacant
expression.
“I’m a knight major. Why do we have written exams?” (Yuri)
“I have a status window, but no memo function.” (Eugene)
“I hate magic.” (Oswald)
In this pre-modern fantasy world, May is not a month for family. However, if there’s
one thing common between Earth and this otherworld, it’s the existence of exams in
college.
“I envy Ivan. No assignments, no exams, and he’s a rich adult.” (Yuri)
“If you say that to Big Brother, you might be found as a corpse the next day, Yuri.”
(Eugene)
“I hope to spend my time with my parents.” (Yuri)

“Since you’ve begun cracking self-deprecating jokes, I’m at a loss for a comeback.”
(Eugene)
“It means going back to Earth, though.” (Yuri)
Sadly, Jan’s University is prestigious. The first midterm for freshmen in college is a
ritual of drinking, breaking the common sense that should be expected.
Facing daunting exam content and piles of assignments, the fusion beings were on
the verge of despair.
At this point, where all the university fusion beings tremble in the harsh pre-modern
society, Ivan is now…
“Aaaah!”
“Hush, be quiet.” (Ivan)
He was pouring a healing potion on a student’s wounds.
“Sa-save me…! Ugh!”
“I don’t think that’s what you’re supposed to say.” (Ivan)
“I’m… Sorry…!!”
“Hush. Choose your next words carefully.” (Ivan)
He sat calmly beside the student, who was foaming and crying.
“Speak.” (Ivan)
“I won’t… I won’t throw cigarette butts on the ground again…!”
“And?” (Ivan)
“I won’t damage the trees…!”
“Excellent.” (Ivan)
In front of the gardener, throwing cigarette butts under the trees is a horrendous
crime comparable to a capital offense in international law.
Considering the student’s youth, Ivan was conducting a free smoking cessation clinic
for the twelve students.
Chapter 37: In the Academy field study, an attack is inevitable.
“Hey! Uncle!” (Isabelle)
This is after Ivan destroyed twelve environmental destroyers.
In the restored campus peace, Ivan closed the healing potion lid.
Turning his head in the direction of the sound, he saw Isabelle running towards him,
waving her hand.
“Hmm.” (Ivan)
“Greetings are usually like ‘hello,’ ‘good morning,’ ‘have you eaten?’ How have you
been lately? It’s made up of similar words!”
Isabelle approached energetically, smiling, and looked around. After inspecting a

thicket where blood and healing potions were entangled, she made a grimace.
“Oh… did demons attack?” (Isabelle)
“Something like that.” (Ivan)
“Thank you for your hard work! Someone screamed during the exam period, so I
thought Uncle might have killed someone again so I came to check!”
“Seems like you’re quite concerned about my image.” (Ivan)
“Ahaha,” Isabelle laughed and turned her head slightly. It was a sufficient response.
“Oh, by the way, can you help me a bit? I need Uncle’s help…” (Isabelle)
“Help?” (Ivan)
“Well, there’s a practical assessment, and it’s too difficult. No, I’m wondering if the
practical exam for the first semester midterm can be like this.” (Isabelle)
“Hmm.” (Ivan)
Ivan pondered what he could do for the Knight major’s midterm.
He wouldn’t be teaching things like interrogation or information concealment,

similar to Sabotage.
Ah, maybe tactics? Fortunately, with his experience in field command, he felt he
could offer some advice in that area.
As Ivan was lost in thought, Isabelle spoke with a smile.
“It’s ambush response tactics!” (Isabelle)
“…Hmm.” (Ivan)
Teaching that to a university freshman… It’s a somewhat unique class.
Ivan reconsidered the usefulness of this university once again. Was it really
necessary?
Anyway, it was within his capability to help. Both ambush and ambush response fell
under his military specialty.
“Enrique’s class, right?” (Ivan)
“Yep. Goodness. I wonder about the practical use of such teaching in real-life
situations.”
“I’ve wondered that myself.”
Ivan nodded and walked ahead.
***
Frechenkaya is a highly developed metropolis, even within the United Kingdom. And
this underdeveloped pre-modern era metropolis encompasses the entire extensive
metropolitan area.
In other words, some essential resources such as farmland, plains, forests, and rivers
should be sufficiently available nearby. Frechenkaya was no exception.
A forest spread out to the east of Frechenkaya, beyond the outer wall. Ivan arrived at
the entrance of the forest with Isabelle and stretched his body briefly.
“When I come here, I remember that time. Wow, I really thought I was going to die
that day.” (Isabelle)
“Hmm.” (Ivan)
A triangle of conscience in Ivan’s mind scratched somewhere. In reality, Ivan had

experimented using Isabelle.
It was the kind of experiment “to see if the protagonist would die during the
tutorial…”
While it was a necessary task, Ivan, being an honest person, felt a twinge of
conscience.
“Uncle, you’re making a really bad face right now.”
“I normally have a smiling face.” (Ivan)
“I really want to hit you.” (Isabelle)
Isabelle grumbled with narrowed eyes.
“Hmm. But the exam venue itself hasn’t been revealed yet. Why do you think you
need to do something here… What’s the reason for coming here?” (Isabelle)
“Because Enrique lacks imagination.” (Ivan)
“…What?” (Isabelle)
“If Enrique is conducting ambush training, it’s either in the Frechenkaya

underground waterway or this forest. If she had to choose a more difficult place, it
would be here.” (Ivan)
Enrique is a very naive and authoritarian lunatic. Ivan nodded, recalling Enrique
from the old days.
Like many elderly people who have lived a long time, Enrique is someone who
cannot be free from his own prejudices.
Therefore, Ivan was sure. If she specifically sets an ‘ambush response’ exam,
considering her personality, the likelihood of it happening throughout the entire
forest is high.
“Isn’t understanding the examiner’s intention a basic skill for test-takers?” (Ivan)
“Wow, did you study well, Uncle?” (Isabelle)
“I didn’t do too badly.”
In this fantasy world, students can’t even imagine such things, but students in South
Korea receive compulsory education for 12 years from the age of 7.
“I’m good at written exams too. I’m confident I’ll get almost all A’s in the practicals,
but strangely, Professor Enrique’s class is so difficult. Even in regular practical
assessments, you can see how merciless she is.” (Isabelle)
“Enrique has always been like that.” (Ivan)
“Wow, Mister, were you also from Jan’s University? A senior?” (Isabelle)
“No, I didn’t go to university.” (Ivan)
Kim Sunwoo also didn’t obtain a university diploma. After discharge, he entered this
otherworld in his third year and continued military service for over 20 years.
At that moment, the inner Kim Sunwoo screamed in frustration. Ivan silently
continued walking.
“Anyway! Yes, um… Well, if you learned something from Professor Enrique, you’re a
senior, right? Right? Um, yeah.” (Isabelle)
“You don’t have to console me.” (Ivan)
How dare this pre-modern indigenous person.
“Yes… A non-academic man who is good at studying. So, how did you prepare for
Professor Enrique’s exam?” (Ivan)
“Prepare?”
Ivan chuckled and put his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a small iron bead.
He pulled it out and rolled it on the ground.
“I’ve already started.”
“Huh? What the—”
-Boom!
The iron bead exploded, releasing a smoky fog.
Isabelle quickly stepped back, coughing. Smoke bomb…? No, this…!
“You crazy man! You set off a chemical bomb on a student!” (Isabelle)
Ivan moved his body within the smoke without a response. Thud, thud. Rolling his
feet a couple of times, he soared up onto a tree and disappeared into the shadows of
the forest.
From behind the shadow, he whispered softly.
“Adjust your level.” (Ivan)
“If you really get caught, you’re dead. I’ll shave you off.” (Ivan)
“…I’ll train you like it’s real.” (Ivan)
Field practice for the Cleansup Unit officer, commence!
Ivan was running through the forest, shooting at Isabelle occasionally to keep a
distance.
There was no need to go all out. Due to Isabelle’s almost fully developed threat
detection, a single threatening shot was enough to discourage her.
So, he used live ammunition. Directly threatening her life was the most effective way
to fully develop threat detection.
“Crazy! Are you really insane!? Shoo, you’re shooting the gun!” (Isabelle)
-Bang!
Each time she yelled, he aimed at her forehead, fired, and retreated.
She would have learned a lesson from this. When you become the target of an
ambush, you need to move more discreetly than your opponent.
Ambushing is fundamentally like hunting. Both the hunter and the prey need to
blend into their surroundings to avoid each other’s gaze.
Therefore, Isabelle, who unnecessarily dressed so extravagantly, had already

deservedly received a failing grade from the start of the exam.
Ivan smeared mud under his eyes to block reflections and nodded his head.
Clank, bang.
He fired a gunshot behind a countermeasure to distract Isabelle’s gaze and shifted

his position.
“By the way, external field practice.”
Ivan looked around sharply. As he had reflected before, this forest is close to the
military camp of the Frechenkaya capital defense force.
In other words, it meant it was a highly secure area with a high security rating. So,
Enrique could probably use it as an exam venue without much worry.
However, Ivan knew.

“In external field practice, encountering hostiles is “common sense”…”
Being a very sensible person, Ivan decided to concurrently observe Isabelle’s

training and signs of an ambush.
***
Isabelle clutched the torn edge of her skirt, trembling.
“Really, what the fuck is this…!!” (Isabelle)
Come on, seriously! Common sense suggests that when a teen-year-old girl is asked to
undergo a bit of training in the woods, her initial expectation is probably a picnic,
right?
A date… perhaps not. Not driven by affection or a crush, but simply to express gratitude
for saving her life. Just to convey my appreciation.
As the picnic basket was carried away by the chemical bomb and dust, Isabelle, who
had been staring blankly, noticed the disheveled sandwich through the open lid and
trembled.
“Uncle.” (Isabelle)
She tied up her messy hair and smirked.
“I really want to kill you.” (Isabelle)
To inform the lunatic secret agent lacking common sense about ‘common sense.’
Hero, awaken.
The training for special forces raid responses includes diverse educational modules,
covering reactions to gunfire and optimal strategies following the successful
detection of a line of fire. This training also incorporates the analysis of terrain,
enemy numbers, and weaponry through various field exercises.
However, Ivan’s preparation for Isabelle boiled down to one thing: the most
straightforward and fundamental approach – “Attack until countered.” Thus, Ivan sat
quietly in a tree, raising his gun. Beyond the aiming point, Isabelle’s confident figure
appeared, showing no intention of concealment.
– Click.
He aligned the sights and, just before pulling the trigger, let the aiming point slip.
– Bang!
The challenge with relying on a line of fire detection lies in the need to develop
complete trust in one’s senses.
Detecting the line of fire involves a sensory skill akin to intuition, and without
depending on sight and hearing, executing appropriate reactions becomes
unattainable.
“Ah!” (Isabelle)
“…Missed.” Ivan sighed as he observed Isabelle hastily lowering her head, screaming
in the distance.
Even though the shot clearly missed, Isabelle attempted to dodge, causing an
imbalance that exposed a vulnerability.
– Click, Bang—!!
Seizing the opportunity, he fired again, this time aiming for her forehead.
Successfully avoiding the shot, Isabelle looked at the bullet hole in the tree,
trembling.
“Bullet! Shoot it at my head! Seriously?!” (Isabelle)
Soon, she opened her eyes. The blazing eyes were precisely aimed at where Ivan was
hiding.
“You’re getting better.” (Ivan)
Feeling proud in a typical training instructor manner, Ivan nodded.
He quickly left the hiding spot.
“Haha, ahaha. I’ll really kill you.” (Isabelle)
Isabelle, gripping the sword tightly, walked shakily.
A bullet aimed at the forehead…?
“I must be insane. I’m foolish. I messed up, yeah. It’s my fault, whatever.”
Was it due to her enthusiasm for training in the forest where ‘that incident’
occurred?
Or was it because, despite her abrupt request for help, he willingly put everything
aside and agreed to assist?
Yeah, it’s all my fault, whatever.
The imagine of winging the sword casually a few times, laughing joyfully, and
receiving some feedback…
Talking about what happened that day as if it’s now just a memory.
At such times, preparing sandwiches to share, putting on her favorite clothes, and
even trying makeup that she rarely did for no reason.
Yeah.
I’m a complete fool.
– Click.
Gripping the sword handle tightly, taking one more step forward.
– Srrung.
Drawing the sword while raising it, the blade gleaming sharp, silently. But with a
firm grip.
Thwang—!
– Ching!
Precisely intercepting the trajectory, deflecting the bullets.
“Really… really… you’re a dead meat! You!!” (Isabelle)
The righteous anger of a hero flared. She deflected every oncoming bullet and
charged directly toward the source.
Where the bullets come from, there’s a shooter.
If I don’t get hit by the bullet, it’ll be fine.
Just one more hit. I can do this.1
***
She must be thinking like that.
Ivan quietly withdrew, looking straight at the charging Isabelle.
Finding a perfectly concealed agent in the shadows of the forest is a thing of the past.
Even if there is a line of fire detection, nothing will change.
Since there’s a sniper at the end of the trajectory, the sniper must also be well aware
of that fact.
“Second lesson, here it comes.” (Ivan)
Being an excellent instructor, Ivan prepared to deliver a considerate lesson.
Swinging the sword recklessly in anger and rushing forward, while the momentum
was impressive, it was by no means a good choice.
Especially in an ‘ambush’ situation, he decided to teach that it’s the worst choice.
-Boom!
Ivan chuckled as he watched Isabelle step on a booby trap and get entangled in the
explosion in the shadows of the forest.
***
“Good.” (Isabelle)
Isabelle, narrowly avoiding the explosion, brushed off the dirt falling straight onto
her head and laughed.
“I will definitely kill you.” (Isabelle)
Just one more hit. I can do this? Such a clumsy thought only created this situation.
Dealing with someone naive like her demands a good shake of the head.
Isabelle deflected flying bullets without even looking at them.
“Do you understand why the forest is more challenging now?” (Ivan)
A very calm voice reached her ears.
Squelch, the hand holding the sword tightened.
“Underground tunnels or bunkers have a linear maze structure. Artificial structures

have their unique patterns. It means that the points for setting traps or launching
ambushes are predetermined.” (Ivan)
The instruction continued. Of course, for her, these were valuable pieces of advice.
“But a forest has multiple features at the same time. Concealment and cover are easy,
and it’s extremely difficult to notice traps in advance. Since it has a labyrinthine
maze structure, guiding the target’s movement path is also easy.” (Ivan)
The teaching continued. Surrounding a few with many is like this.
Contrary to many misunderstandings, a siege is an act of restricting information on a

tactical level. In reality, there’s no need for a dense encirclement or intense assault.
A few well-timed confrontations are sufficient. Forcing misjudgments on the

opponent while maintaining an information advantage is the essence of a siege.
-Beyond that forest, numerous enemies are hiding.”
-Approach that forest, and you’ll be caught in an assault.
-There are no allies beyond that forest.
When such misjudgments accumulate, a siege by a minority is completed,

undermining the command of the field commander.
Ivan quietly continued speaking, but suddenly stopped.
Isabelle, with her head bowed, was trembling.
“Uncle.” (Isabelle)
“Hmm?” (Ivan)
“Whew… Thank you. Thanks to you, my mind cleared up.” (Isabelle)
“Huh?” (Ivan)
Isabelle looked at a place where he might be with a lively smile on her face.
Considering the direction of the sound and the direction where the trajectory was
detected, it must be this way.
She nodded, raising the sword handle.

– Raise the sword.
– For your principles, not your strength, raise the sword.
– Look at those like us with the eyes of the weak.
“Yes, I will do so.” (Isabelle)
Isabelle held the sword as if enchanted, taking a stance. Blue magic swirled around
her body, sparkling and brightening the dark forest.
A refreshing wind rushed through the late spring forest.
“Hmm.”
Ivan gazed at her with shining eyes. The structure of magic, the circulation method—
different, yet somehow reminiscent of Maxmillian.
He might have had a talent for teaching someone beyond what he thought. (Being an
educator is determined by the student’s achievements.)
Ivan nodded willingly and lowered his gun. Isabelle’s senses had already fully
blossomed. At this level, double shots to deceive line of fire detection were no longer
effective.
By accelerating the nervous system with magic, refining the reaction speed of the
entire body to the limit—an achievement known as the ‘battlefield of superhumans.’
They had reached the point where they could step on the boundary.
For those who reached this stage, projectile weapons no longer worked. This is
because line of fire detection has developed almost to the level of foresight.
So.
– Srrung…
He raised the axe.
***
“Please… don’t leave… me…”
The train heading back to Frechenkaya. Ivan smiled as he looked down at the
sleeping Isabelle.
Despite being covered in dust and minor injuries, with tattered clothes, she looked
rather noble. Sitting down outside the window under the moonlight, her golden hair
sparkled like a field of wheat.
*Thud, thud.* Breathing lightly, her head resting on his shoulder, the sleeping Isabelle
seemed like a little kid of her age.
“Maxmillian.”
As the train rattled along the tracks, Ivan gently steadied Isabelle’s shaking head and
whispered.
“You’ve got a wonderful daughter.”
***
– You have a wonderful daughter.
Isabelle clenched her hands inside her sleeves and pressed her lips together in an
effort to keep them from unraveling.
She buried her cheek against his broad shoulder, careful not to show it.
*Rattle, rattle.* The train ran on the tracks.
The warm air inside the carriage flowed gently. The dimly lit interior was faintly
visible to the slightly open eyes.
Moonlight poured through the window. The forest where they had trained today
stretched out in the distance.
A romantic, sensible, and ignorant fool. A lunatic who covered a somewhat sympathetic
face with a beard.
Still, still. It’s tolerable. Well, considering. After all, isn’t he the one who saved my life?
Just that much. Not a premature liking, just that much.
Teach him common sense, and eventually, trim the beard.
Yes. Okay.
I feel like I’m building a person. Who’s going to pick up this poor guy if not me. It’s
like… the chivalrous spirit of ‘service.’ That’s what it is.
***
There is a unit with a long and proud history and tradition, called the 7th Engineer
Platoon of the 3rd Battalion, 12th Company, under the command of the 5th Dragon
General.
They whipped the slaves to encourage them; a man quietly raised his binocular.
“Seriously, what on earth were they fighting about?”
“It must be a difference of opinion, comrade!”
“Do you shoot bullets and explode bombs when you disagree with someone,
comrade?”
“No, comrade!”
The three ambush points collapsed completely due to the target’s unexpected visit
and the ensuing battle. Oh, in the days when the great 5th Dragon General was alive,
there was no such shoddy construction! The platoon leader was disappointed.
In most cases, when a platoon leader is disappointed, they tend to look for the
problem within the unit.
And in most cases, this attempt always produces the desired effect. The beautiful
culture of “tough love” is embedded in all armies around the world, even in demons
and dwarves.
“The Shadow Blade’s little game is only a week away. Comrades, rebuild the
collapsed points and prepare for it with all your might!”
“Yes, comrade!!”
A dwarf with graying beard gave a salute and then walked out with a heavy tread.
Dwarves are masters of civil engineering. Civil engineering includes tunneling. And
based on syllogism, the following statement is true.
Dwarves can hide anywhere there is land.
This is why Ivan calls them rats.
At a time when Enrique’s exam was only a week away, Frechenkaya was still
peaceful.
(TN: The Dwarf race is part of the Demon King faction. The training between Ivan
and Isabelle damages the tunnel they created, forcing them to painstakingly rebuild
it for the ambush plan when Enrique will test the students.)
1. The first sentence, “진짜 딱 한 번만.” translates to “Just one more time, really.”
This is a phrase of determination and resolve, often used in a situation where
someone is facing a dangerous or difficult situation. The speaker is expressing their
belief that they can overcome the challenge, even if it is only for one more time.
The second sentence, “딱 한 대만 때리자. 그렇게 생각하며.” translates to “I thought,

‘Just one more hit.'” This is a continuation of the speaker’s determination and
resolve. They are still focused on overcoming the challenge, even though they know
it will be difficult.
The phrase is often used in Korean movies and TV shows to create a sense of drama
and suspense.
There’s a proverbial saying: ‘To conceal a leaf, place it within the forest.’ It
humorously alludes to camouflage techniques, albeit without genuine antiquity.
Therefore, a special forces unit infiltrating the forest becomes a master of setting
traps using tree leaves. Although the installation method varies with the seasons, it’s
relatively easy since there are only summer and winter in the forest.
-Ting-
“Ah!!” (Isabelle)
When Isabelle heard the thread snap, she ducked and rolled. Boom! She got hit by
the explosion she had just dodged.
“No joke! This is seriously dangerous!” (Isabelle)
“Didn’t you want real combat training?” (Ivan)
“That’s a whole new level, man!” (Isabelle)
Isabelle got up, swinging her sword toward the noise.
-Clang!
“Kill your emotions.” (Ivan)
“I feel like killing you!” (Isabelle)
A total of 17 battles, 0 wins, 17 losses. Isabelle bit her lip, swinging her sword in
frustration.
Clang, Bang. Sparks flew as the axe blade flashed in the shadows. By now, it had
become a kind of routine.
Immediately after gunfire, dodge towards the escape direction, avoiding traps. If
traps are avoided, rush in that evasion direction.
Ivan’s patterns were devilishly cunning, guiding even the direction of evasion into a
series of traps. Traps at a level where death or severe injury was planned the
moment you shouted ‘Aha!’
After several days passed, Isabelle could now close her eyes and still time her
attacks.
“Excellent.” (Ivan)
Ivan, with a wry smile, sheathed his axe and stepped back. The cool breeze in the
forest teased Isabel’s bangs.
“As expected, people become stronger the more they are trained.” (Ivan)
“I think the people I know and the people you know have slightly different concepts.”
(Isabelle)
“At least you followed well.” (Ivan)
Ivan is not stingy with praise. He is someone who has faced hero parties directly.
Naturally, the standards are sky-high, but ironically, because of that, the standards
for dealing with ‘trainees’ are extremely low.
As long as a soldier can perform at an average level, that’s enough for a military. As
long as it doesn’t hinder mission execution, it’s sufficient.
But not anymore. Ivan, holding his axe, adjusted his posture.
He had taught all the basic techniques needed for an ambush response. Now it’s a
matter of intuition and mastery.
So, the remaining time is.
“Hold the sword.” (Ivan)
Teaching the realm of the transcendent.
Ivan’s eyes deepened. Magic surged, and his beard fluttered in the air.
True strong ones, those who step into the battlefield of the transcendent, have a
different ‘class.’
To that place, Isabelle must reach, even if she has to pound it into her mind.
‘The academy is dangerous.’
How dangerous can a university be? Well, if it belongs to the ‘academy’ type,
essentially, the ‘academy’ is no different from the front lines.
That’s ‘common sense.’
“Extend the sword.” (Ivan)
“What? Ah, yes.” (Isabelle)
Isabelle extended her sword, assuming a flawless stance. From the grip of the sword
to the placement of her feet, balance from the waist to the wrist—it was nearly
perfect.
Indeed, she is the daughter of a hero. Her innate talent for physical abilities was well-
established.
So, all that’s needed is learning and experience.
“Endure.” (Ivan)
“…What?” (Isabelle)
That’s quite a reassuring phrase. She was about to joke and laugh when—
-Keying—
Ivan’s arm blurred, and in an instant, the blade seemed to split into two.
Even though he had split the sword with an axe, the impact didn’t even reach her.
Like chopping tofu, the axe swept away the blade.
“What is this again…?” (Isabelle)

Isabelle laughed in dismay. She stared blankly at the broken sword.
“This is really expensive… No, seriously…” (Isabelle)
“Saw that?” (Isabelle)
“What? The transformation of my sword into a scrap…?” (Isabelle)
“Temporal dissociation.” (Ivan)
Ivan twirled the axe and adjusted his posture.
“The auditory nerve of a person is 0.1 seconds, the tactile nerve is 0.25 seconds.
These are clear limits to training.” (Ivan)
It’s a limitation of human anatomy. The reaction speed of nerves is limited by the
physical speed of stimuli transmitted from sensory organs to the brain.
In this pre-modern fantasy world, anatomy hasn’t developed to that extent, but
surprisingly, there exists magic.
This all-purpose resource, which becomes an earring when hung on the ear and a
nose ring when hung on the nose, can directly interfere with the human nervous
system, pushing the transmission speed to the limit.
In simple terms, temporal dissociation.
“Enhance the nerves with magic, and a world unfolds. Isabelle, there’s a realm that
goes beyond the limits of seeing, feeling, and moving.” (Ivan)
That place is the battlefield of the transcendent.
Those who can reach that position are very limited, but with enough talent and
experience, they eventually reach the destination.
It’s the starting point of the struggle for those with ‘class.’ If you can’t reach this
place, you can never escape being an ordinary soldier.
But Isabelle is not a supporting character. She is clearly one of the protagonists in
this world. So, precautions were necessary. The sooner you reach this, the more
advantageous it is.
If it’s not something that can always be protected, the best Ivan can do is this—
pushing her forward.
“Even if you suddenly tell me to do that…” (Isabelle)
“You will.” (Ivan)
“Yes, of course, if you teach me, I’ll do my best.” (Isabelle)
“Experience it until you can.” (Ivan)
“Huh?” (Isabelle)
Ivan held the axe upside down, with the blade against his back, appearing entirely
non-threatening. He wore a harmless expression.
“Survival instinct is the foundation of growth.” (Ivan)
“You say crazy things so naturally…” (Isabelle)
Isabelle picked up the broken sword, cursing her past for asking this madman to
train her.
That was the last sight Isabelle saw.
-Kwaang!-
***
“Bella, Bella? Bella!!” (Ecdysis)
“Huh? Oh?” (Isabelle)
Isabelle was startled as she looked up. In front of her, Ecdysis was looking at her with
a worried expression.
On a warm spring day, Ecdysis and Isabelle were having lunch together.
Oh, thankfully, it was just a dream. (Not really.)
Feeling a shiver down her arm, Isabelle raised her head.
“You’ve been acting strange lately. What’s going on?” (Ecdysis)
“Well… hahaha. Just busy preparing for exams.” (Isabelle)
“Why study so hard… Hmm… Is it because you’re in the Knight Department? You
seem more absent-minded.” (Ecdysis)
Being the daughter of a hero, Isabelle enjoyed various privileges. For example, a
priest was exclusively assigned by the Tylesse monarchy.
Even if she returned almost in pieces every night, she could still go to school the next
day in perfect condition.
But the human body isn’t designed that way. Unfortunately, injuries and fatigue
accumulate. The dark circles under Isabelle’s eyes were evidence of that.
“And you’ve been acting a bit strange lately. Have you met someone?” (Ecdysis)
“Meet someone? I don’t meet anyone!” (Isabelle)
Perhaps due to her noble upbringing in the Tylesse Palace, Isabelle’s clothes and
accessories were all top-notch. Nevertheless, it seemed like she was putting more
effort into it than usual.
Ecdysis wondered if there were any decent men in the Knights’ Department, then
frowned as she remembered her uncle.
The Knight Departemen is a terrible place.
“Doesn’t Miss Yuri know anything? Maybe a boy that Bella is friendly with?”
(Ecdysis)
“Isabelle is friendly to everyone. Well, these days, I don’t know. Everyone is busy
preparing for exams. If I have to pick someone, maybe Oscar?” (Yuri)
“Really! Oscar!?” (Ecdysis)

Ecdysis chuckled and poked Isabelle’s side.
“Hey, what’s going on with you and Oscar?” (Ecdysis)
“Essi, there are things people should joke about and things they shouldn’t. Honestly,
Oscar is a bit… how should I put it? Too tender, you know?” (Isabelle)
“Why? He’s popular.” (Ecdysis)
“I prefer someone sturdy, quiet… um, a bit like a bear, maybe? Yeah, like that?
Trustworthy. He’s just too delicate.” (Isabelle)
Gentle… Was Oscar like that? Ecdysis smirked. She had never paid much attention,
but hadn’t he been undergoing knight training since childhood?
Isabelle rose from the perplexing Ecdysis, announcing, “I’m heading for additional
training!”
Yuri questioned, “Are you attempting to snatch my scholarship?”
Isabelle countered, “Then ensure you don’t lose the title of the top student.”
(Isabelle)
With a light chuckle, Isabelle strolled away.
***
“Uncle!” (Isabelle)
“Hmm.”
“Ahaha… When will you say ‘hello’ to me?” (Isabelle)
Ivan, holding a pair of scissors, turned his head towards Isabelle, who was running
towards him with confidence.
“Let’s train again today! Even though there’s an exam tomorrow!” (Isabelle)
“No.”
“Huh?” (Isabelle)
Ivan glanced up and down at Isabelle. The fatigue from the past week of training was
evident. It seemed like she had tried to treat it, but it was far from perfect.
“Rest today. Prepare for tomorrow.” (Ivan)
“Um… Then… um…”
Isabelle hesitated, gently touching the tip of her hair. She rolled her eyes slightly and
bit her lip.
“Have you eaten by any chance…? Um. If you’re available today…” (Isabelle)
“I’m busy.” (Ivan)
“Ugh.”
Ivan was an efficient person, so he didn’t repeat the same thing twice.
He walked away, leaving the puzzled Isabelle standing there.
Tomorrow was practical training outside the university. Of course, considering the
common occurrence of ambush attempts by unknown enemies, there was much to
prepare in advance.
In academy field training, it was common sense for an ambush to occur.
Ivan was a sensible person. If he anticipated an ambush, the common sense of the
special forces was to eliminate the target before the attack.
“I feel like I’m really losing my mind…”
Isabelle murmured, watching Ivan’s retreating figure and lowering her head.
***
“Wow…” (Ecdysis)
Yuri and Ecdysis, watching the scene from a distance, spilled their coffee in surprise.
“A man… a gardener…?” (Ecdysis)
“A man… with a crazy axe beard like John Wick…?” (Yuri)
“Who is that?” (Ecdysis)
“Well… there’s a person like that…” (Yuri)

Contrary to the misconceptions of many, Ivan is not particularly fixated on axes.
(Dmitri, his immediate successor, did not agree with this statement.)
However, in Ivan’s opinion, the axe was a tool with many advantages.
When chopping or cleaving, it has a stronger center of gravity than a sword.
It can be utilized as a hammer when striking from the back, and along the curved
edge of the axe, it can entangle an opponent’s weapon like a hook.
Besides its advantages as a military weapon, there are many other uses; at some
point, Ivan had compiled a list of various uses for an axe.
It’s useful for opening bottles, cans, doors, cracking nuts, and anything else that can
be tackled.
-*Slrrk.*
So, the reason for Ivan’s thoughts was rather simple.
He was currently drawing his sword. Personally, he didn’t particularly like swords,
but it was necessary.
He planned to respond to the on-site practical assault with his best efforts. One could
feel his sincerity from the fact that he had armed himself with an axe.
“Veolgrin.”
Every time he thought of that arrogant elf, it was enough to make his teeth grind.
Prepared with all sorts of attack spells, and what for? A test?
On the other hand, he was not bothering to take out most of his weapons, more like
going for a casual walk. At most, he had a pistol and an axe!
To justify, that was how it was. Ivan knew he was making excuses, but anyway, he
learned an important lesson.
-*Be prepared for the armed state in case a warrior party-level power emerges and
becomes hostile at any time.*
Basically, he didn’t care about the type of weapon as long as he could wield it. While
there might be more familiar weapons, there was no such thing as an unfamiliar
military weapon.
After all, he had been on the front lines for 20 years. Supply weapons often broke, so
everything at hand on the front line had to be utilized.
Ivan strapped a dagger to his waist, slung a sword over his shoulder, tied an axe to
his lower back, and stuffed a pistol, magazines, and a few explosive grenades into his
pouch.
***
“Isn’t this year’s candidate amazing, Miss Enrique?” (Robert)
“Oh, indeed.” (Enrique)
“I have high expectations. It’s a test personally supervised by Miss Enrique! All the
nobles of Frechenkaya wanted to watch together.”
“Is it to make students a spectacle?” (Enrique)
“Oh, no! It doesn’t mean that!” (Robert)
Enrique shook her head with an expressionless face. The guy blabbering beside him
was a 2nd-year knight majoring in knighthood. His name… she doesn’t remember.
She had lived for a long time. (She doesn’t admit it.) It meant that she had faced and
sent off as many people as her years.
The way undead look at the world is as follows: those who have nothing to
remember try not to remember. If you don’t want to spend your life mourning every
acquaintance you’re going to say goodbye to, you have to do that.
For this guy, it wasn’t worth it. Enrique didn’t bother to remember the name of this
‘professor’.
“They say Sir Oscar’s skills have improved a lot. I have great expectations.” (Robert)
“Ah, you’re from Tylesse, aren’t you?” (Enrique)
“Yes, you remembered me!” (Robert)
I vaguely remembered. I think he was from some kind of royal guard in Tylesse…
Enrique lowered her head.
“Isabella is also a talented individual. Yuri Frank, that kid is excellent too.” (Enrique)
“Isabella, maybe, but Yuri Frank. I did look at the file for that student, but well… for a
commoner, she’s quite something.” (Robert)
“A commoner… you say?” (Enrique)
Enrique chuckled. Well, coming from a war orphan, you could say she’s a commoner.
Would this sleek-looking guy really know? Half of the warrior party were
commoners.
Maximilian, Ainar, and her. Enrique.
But what can you do? Nobles want to think that way. Now, with youthful vigor a thing
of the past, Enrique shrugged.
“Enrique.” (Ivan)
At that moment, Ivan was approaching from a distance. Ignoring the chattering
professor, Enrique raised her hand.
“Oh, Ivan! What’s up?” (Enrique)
“Can I watch?” (Ivan)
“Today’s exam? It doesn’t matter, but why bother?” (Enrique)

“I want to confirm something.” (Ivan)
“Confirm…?” (Enrique)
Enrique stood by Ivan with a sly smile. The expression of the professor standing next
to her turned abruptly cold.
What’s with this discrimination? In his eyes, the newcomer who had just arrived
looked like a mere gardener.
“Nice to meet you. I am Professor Robert Sennar de Mondrangi of the Knight

Department. What’s your name?” (Robert)
“Ivan Petrovich.” (Ivan)
Even just hearing the name, you can tell. Judging by the typical ‘nickname’ of
Krasilov, he’s a commoner without a surname.
Robert’s eyes became colder. He furrowed his brow.
“Commoner. You should know your place and find your seat. There must be plenty of
trees to tend to at the university. Why bother coming all the way here?” (Robert)
“…?” (Ivan)
What’s he saying? Ivan tilted his head.
It was strange. It had been so long since he faced someone who challenged him like
this that it was difficult to give an appropriate response.
Usually, in such cases, Ivan’s tendency was to bring down his axe on the other
person’s head. In the military, when people started looking down on him, it led to
many troublesome situations.
But this was a university. How should one handle it in society? Ivan took a moment
to organize his thoughts.
Fortunately, Ivan didn’t need to intervene directly.
“Hey, Professor.” (Enrique)

“Yes, Miss Enrique!” (Robert)
“Do you want to die?” (Enrique)
“…What?” (Robert)
Enrique glared at Robert with burning eyes.
“Ivan is my guest. He’s a friend in a small sense and a colleague in a big sense. How
dare you insult my guest in front of me. Is this Tylesse’s etiquette?” (Enrique)
“That…” (Robert)
“Shut up. I tolerated your foul odor because I have a good nose. Four years ago, that
alone would have been enough to kill you. The world has become quite nice.”
(Enrique)
Enrique’s aura was oozing with hostility. Ivan reached out his hand to calm down
this ignorant and hysterical elderly man.
“Enrique. It’s okay.” (Ivan)
“No, this guy is making a disgusting sight!” (Enrique)
“Let’s start the exam. The students are waiting.” (Ivan)
“Ugh, seriously.” (Enrique)
Enrique cleared her throat and turned away. Exposed to her aura, Robert was still
trembling.
Ignoring him, Ivan also walked alongside Enrique. Students had gathered in the
clearing of the forest.
It was the first major exam for the 1st-year students of the Knight Department. The
[Ambush Response] had begun.
***
There were a total of 52 1st-year students in the Knight Department. They stood on
the platform, each armed with the basic equipment provided by the university,
gazing at Enrique.
Enrique raised her hand and opened it wide. A small bead was clutched in her hand.
“This exam is an ambush response. My specially trained individuals are scattered

throughout this forest. They are planning to directly attack you.” (Enrique)
The students didn’t waver at Enrique’s words. It was within their expected range.
“But that makes it lack discrimination. Just by luck, there might be students who
won’t be targeted. Now, if you manage to defeat the attackers who are targeting you,
you’ll receive bonus points. And one more thing.” (Enrique)
She shook the bead as she spoke.
“I’ll give each of you this bead. It’s a magical device with a simple location detection
spell. If you arrive at the opposite side of the forest while protecting this bead, you
pass. Additionally, if you have more than one bead, extra points will be added.”
(Enrique)
There was a commotion among the students at her words.
The best way to respond to an ambush is to form a group. Basically, if there are
several gathered, you can eliminate blind spots.
But what about those conditions? In that case, what if they formed small groups,
held off the attackers, and then escaped with the beads while the attackers and other
students were in turmoil?
“Not everyone can pass. The top five who escape the forest first will receive the
highest points, and deductions will be made based on the escape time. Total of four
hours. Protect the bead and pass through the forest within that time. Understand?”
(Enrique)
Ivan nodded his head as he listened to Enrique’s words. It was a curriculum almost
identical to the one used to train new recruits in the Cleansup Unit.
That alone was strange enough for an exam, but in a different sense, this method was
also ‘familiar.’
‘It’s such a favorable environment for external hostile forces to intervene.’
This forest is within the Frechenkaya territory. Moreover, if you go a little further
from the outskirts of the forest, there is a military base stationed there.
In other words, it’s a perfectly safe space. So, planning such an intense exam and
getting approval from the university would be understandable.
However, this is an academy field exercise. Therefore, there will definitely be an

external attack.
Then, let’s think about ‘how’ excluding ‘why.’
‘I can’t lurk in the forest. Enrique’s subordinates have probably already searched it.’
So where would the attack start?
It wouldn’t be from the sky. After the incident with the elven aerial battleship,
Krasilov was sincerely committed to air defense.
It’s almost impossible for a ground attack. Even if there was a way to reach it, the
Situation Command is now very sensitive due to the recent train terrorist attack in
this area.
Then…
‘Underground.’
According to the elimination method, the only place where attackers could appear is
underground.
You should be sure that an attack will happen for this to be possible, but Ivan was a
sensible person, so he didn’t doubt it.
‘Those average guys.’
Assuming that attackers would come through the underground tunnels, the only
race that came to mind was Dwarves.
Those communist shorties. If those guys were planning an underground attack, it

would be almost impossible to prepare in advance. It’s because it’s unpredictable
where they would emerge.
Considering their tactical goals, deduction was possible. Assuming that Dwarves
were attacking, if the Demon Army deliberately targeted the entrance exam of the
academy, the target was already decided.
‘Isabelle or Oscar.’
The members of the hero party are targets of hatred for the Demon Army. A party
that slaughtered most of the Seven Dragons and even defeated the Demon King.
Although they themselves are now integrated into various social strata and it’s
difficult for them to be directly hit, it’s not the case for their children.
Seeing those who drove the entire demon race into a pit happily raising their
children, it would be a twisted situation from the demon’s perspective.
From that point of view, from Ivan’s perspective, this incident is very transparent.
If the motives, methods, and goals of the terror are specified, it’s no longer terrorism.
It’s just a riot.
Ivan looked at Isabelle, who was holding the bead, from a distance. She was giggling,
seemingly lost in thought.
-Clang.
Ivan, sidestepping his hips, placed his hand on the sword.
To deal with Dwarves, he drew his sword. Dwarves were a race difficult to handle
with axes.
So, it means preparations are complete.
***
“What is it… really, Uncle.”
Isabelle looked at Ivan, who was standing in a corner of the platform, sidestepping
an ill-suited sword like a knight. It looked quite sturdy and confident.
Ivan is a gardener. Strictly speaking, he is a national secret agent, but at least on the
surface, he is a gardener.
So, if this Ivan, who is a gardener, is here to witness this exam, there must be a
reason.
“You worry too much. Really.”
Isabelle turned her gaze, carefully managing her expression. Deep down, the old man
is worrying about her. And probably, he wants to confirm the education he provided.
Yeah, let’s show him.
Isabelle shrugged her shoulders, firmly gripping the hilt of the sword.
Let’s proudly show the results of the dreadful training over the past few days and
snatch the top spot.
And then, thank him for helping with the training, naturally leading to a meal, well…
or even coffee. Hmm… or maybe a play.
After all, Krasilov is a country renowned for its cultural arts.
Isabelle, for a moment, imagined Ivan watching an opera and laughed, thinking how
terribly mismatched it would be.
“…”
At that moment,
Ivan, being an extremely efficient person, was preparing to shave the Dwarves.
“Isabelle, are you really going alone?” (Yuri)
“Yes! Don’t worry. I have something to prove. Hehe.” (Isabelle)
“Prove what…?” (Yuri)
“You must be prepared, Miss Yuri, or you’ll get a failing grade…!”
Isabelle ran through the forest with a chilling laughter. In reality, she had practically
taken the lead.
While most students were still cautiously eyeing each other in the courtyard,
Isabelle’s actions captured everyone’s attention.
She ran into the forest alone as soon as the exam began?
It was an impossible feat unless there was something she believed in. Whether it was
the unknown attacker waiting in the forest or fellow students to be wary of while
walking alone.
The students, exchanging glances, soon gathered and slowly moved towards the
deep parts of the forest.
And even Ivan, watching the scene unfold, moved at a leisurely pace.
“Ivan, where are you going?” (Enrique)
“I have something to check for myself.” (Ivan)
“Hmm… Very suspicious. Who is it? Which troublemaker caught the attention of our
‘little’ Ivan?” (Enrique)
Enrique chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. When Ivan tried to leave without a
response, Enrique spoke.
“Don’t interfere with the kids’ exams. They’ll manage just fine. And ease up on the
over-preparedness; it’s paranoia, my disciple. That’s PTSD for you.” (Enrique)
“Well…” (Ivan)
Ivan had no intention of persuading the stubborn, old-fashioned woman.
When listing the three most prone events to attack in the academy, they were as
follows: entrance ceremony, on-site training, and festivals.
And the reason for calmly planning such a test curriculum that practically begged for
terrorism was due to their lack of common sense.
Ivan, being a highly pragmatic person, only attempted what was possible. Teaching
common sense to an old man over a century old was not within his range.
Ivan silently jumped onto a tree and disappeared beyond the forest.
“Lately, something’s… annoying about him…”
Enrique pondered, chewing on the expression Ivan had made.
***
“What actions would he take in this situation if it’s him?” Isabelle muttered as she
ran through the forest.
Everything she had learned in Ivan’s class was vividly clear in her mind.
-There are no straight lines in nature. Anything that glitters in the sunlight at an
angle is a trap.
Indeed. Isabelle had already dismantled six flytraps, running without hesitation.
And one more.
-If a well-trained agent is given enough time, no trap exists independently. So,
assume. Where would you end up if you avoided the trap?
Lure of the trap. On the cleanest path to evade an ambush trap, there must be a
second trap.
That lesson was also appropriate. The agents, Enrique’s disciples, seemed well-
trained according to Ivan’s standards.
After dismantling the traps and plotting escape routes in her mind, there was always
a second trap waiting in that spot.
Running for who knows how long, Isabelle heard rustling sounds in her ears.
“Who’s there?” (Alain)
She’s a student. Isabelle crouched in the bushes and gripped the hilt of her sword
silently.
Soon, rustling sounds were heard, and a student appeared. What was her name?
Alain? She seemed to be a freshman from Tylesse, just like Isabelle.
And that individual is in fairly good condition.
But showing up alone? That was unlikely.
Isabelle coldly smiled and surveyed her surroundings. Indeed, a shadow swayed far
behind Alain. Even though it seemed hidden behind a tree, the disguise was too
amateurish.
Raising her guard for no reason.
Isabelle chuckled. Seeing such a situation made her realize how impressive that old
man was. That’s why she can’t date young people.
She suddenly thought that and was startled. How can I think about a “date”?
“His compliments alone, that’s enough!” (Isabelle)
At least, confessions are for receiving, not for giving. Even though the world has
become a better place, as proven by its long history.
According to the court etiquette of Tylesse, there is only one case in which a woman
confesses first. That is when the woman’s father approaches her to pursue a political
marriage.
Unfortunately, Isabelle had no father. Maximilian had been missing for four years
now.
Therefore, Isabelle had no choice but to follow Tylesse’s history and tradition. If Ivan
were to confess first, she would consider it, and there was enough intention to
consider it positively.
‘Me, confess first? That’s a bit much. No matter how much of a man he is, I’m far
more valuable. The daughter of a hero, noble, beautiful, young.’
Normally, when Isabelle would chatter like this, Ecdysis or Yuri would appropriately
intervene, but unfortunately, there was no one by her side now…
“Hey, isn’t anyone here?” (Alain)
“Weird. I’m sure I heard something.” (Alain)
When Alain grumbled, a group of students hidden behind a tree appeared. Familiar
faces, Alain’s group.
Five. A number that was difficult to handle without getting hurt head-on.
However, Isabelle quietly climbed up a tree, holding a knife.
Counter-ambush training, to put it differently, could also be seen as ambush training.

To respond to an ambush, one had to be well-versed in the methods of ambushing.
So, Isabelle, who had received practical training directly from the best field agent in
Krasilov, was now at a level that couldn’t be handled by university freshmen.
‘First things first.’
Isabelle covered the mouth of the man at the back and thrust the knife straight into
his neck.
“Mmm… Mmm?!”
“Shh. Stay still.”

“Isabelle, Miss…?!”
“Oh, hush. If you don’t be quiet, you might get hurt somewhere.”
She took a bead from an unknown junior’s pocket, raised it, and struck the back of
his neck.
“Ugh!!”
“Oh, this is how the old man knocks people out.”
“An ambush…! It’s an ambush!! She took my bead!!”
“Oh, this is cheating. You should stay quiet if you’ve been eliminated.”
Isabelle grumbled as she raised her knife. The junior who got hit in the back of the
neck groaned in pain, but thanks to that, four others were charging towards her.
“Isabelle…! Charging alone against the opponents! Are you brave or just ignorant?”
“Oh, Alain. Did we agree to stop talking now?”
Isabelle smirked as she raised her knife. Well, four was better than five. She decided
to think positively.
The way this guy and that guy were awkwardly laughing while running towards her
didn’t appeal to her.
And on top of that.
‘What’s with that stance.’
The way they attacked, the momentum they came with, and the clumsy paths that
didn’t match each other.
Each aspect was so ridiculous.
Compared to the entrance train where she had to confront terrorists risking her life
and Ivan attacking her like a real battle for the past week, this was boring.
She chuckled. Seriously, when she thought about it, it was all because of that old
man. It was so serious, really.
“If I have all five beads, can I become the top student? This time, I really want to be
the first.”
Isabelle laughed softly as she faced them.
***
About two hours had passed since the exam started.
By now, when about half of the students were about to leave with escorts out of the
forest after receiving the failing points.
So, when the number of students Enrique’s disciples had to deal with decreased, the
attacks intensified even more.
-Kugugugugu…
Vibrations began deep underground.
“What?!”
Yuri, who was running, lost balance and fell. She quickly got up, holding the knife,
and scanned her surroundings.
But there was no one. There was no sign of an attack.
“What is this?”
-Kugugugugu…!!
The ground tremors intensified. Gradually heavier, the trees in the forest swayed,
rustling the leaves.
Enrique furrowed her brow and jumped straight onto a tree.
“…What is this?”
***
-Kugugugugu…!!
As the ground shook, Ivan kicked the tree and leaped. He jumped to the top of the
tallest tree and scanned the surroundings.
The entire forest was shaking.
“Where is it?”
Even with the sudden earthquake, Ivan wasn’t surprised. Since an attack was
inevitable, he was not the kind of person to be surprised by things unfolding as
expected.
Where could the target be?
Ivan surveyed his surroundings with a cold gaze. The range was too wide. While he
already knew Isabelle and Oscar’s positions, the direction of the earthquake was not
limited to their locations.
The entire forest was trembling.
“Well, well, this.”
Ivan soon chuckled. It was because a familiar pattern appeared in his eyes.
A dwarf got hit. Just as expected.
Ivan quickly scanned the forest. If he didn’t panic due to the sudden earthquake and
observed the entire battlefield with a broad view, he could see things.
After all, an earthquake was ultimately a wave. The roughest shaking occurred near
the epicenter, or so-called hypocenter.
Therefore, let’s infer.
Shaking trees could serve as excellent indicators. If he could determine the degree of
shaking, he could scrutinize the hypocenter.
As mentioned before, a forest was essentially close to a labyrinth. It was a complex
structure created by randomly growing trees and mature trees entwining with each
other.
By not being fooled by such a form and independently analyzing each shaking tree
object.
“It’s a spider’s web.”
In the shape of a spider’s web, a long hypocenter extended, drawing a circle.
The 5th Dragon Corps, ‘Webmaker’s’ distinctive attack method.
It’s been a while. Ivan almost felt nostalgic. It was a very textbook attack, and it
reminded him of the ‘Gangdo War’ in the past.
Although it was much smaller in scale than back then, anyway.
-Kwakwakwakwa—!!
With a thunderous roar resembling an avalanche, the entire forest collapsed.
Trees intertwined, fell, and the soil overturned, revealing deep burrows.
Everything on top of it was swept away in the earth and soil,
The dust and broken wood surged, making a big resonance.
In the dense battlefield, Ivan’s ears caught the screams of many students.
‘Rescuing students is Enrique’s responsibility.’
Enrique would be able to grasp the situation at a glance. An attack by dwarfs was
familiar to her too. Moreover, most students have ‘location-tracking magical devices.’
Therefore, the prospects for rescuing students within the golden time were good.
External training, and that too a practical ‘ambush response’ exam, so the priests
would be on standby. Even if there were injuries, they could recover.
Ivan immediately jumped down from the tree.

‘Is Oscar closer?’
If he thinks either Isabelle or Oscar is the target of these guys, he should prioritize
the closer one first.
Ivan mentally traced his path and threw himself into the gap of the deep burrow
where the ground was not visible.
The battlefield was close, the target was clear, and he was well-armed.
For a commander of the Cleansup Unit, no more propositions were needed.

Oscar stood, leaning against the wall, with a knife stuck into the floor.
“It’s really unbelievable.”
He glanced around, casually wiping the blood flowing from his forehead. Nothing
was in sight.
Forests are inherently dark, especially the forest of Frechenkaya, dark to a gloomy
extent even in broad daylight.
So, it’s reasonable that finding a light source buried beneath the earth in this forest is
challenging. However…
“Why are there caves underground in the forest? This crazy country.”
Oscar laughed mockingly, lifting the knife. One leg was broken, making walking while
leaning against the wall difficult.
‘Should I wait until help arrives?’
He’s a student, so rescue teams should follow for such major accidents during class.
Plus, he has three beads in his possession, each with a location-tracking magical
function.
Therefore, as long as there are no significant issues, staying still here seems the
safest choice, but…
‘Did those guys manage to escape?’
That’s the problem. Having three beads implies, at least, robbing two guys of their
beads.
He overpowered two fellow students and took their beads during the exam,
unavoidable but now perplexing. Perhaps he snatched the location trackers.
If those guys are buried under this soil, they won’t be rescued.
Oscar sighed. The pain from his broken leg was terrible, but…
“I have to rescue them.”
He wiped away the blood and opened his eyes. Green eyes sparkled in the darkness.
I have to rescue them.
Because they’re classmates? Because he’s a noble? Because he’s the son of Jill Ber, a
hero of the Knight’s Party?
No.
Because he’s a knight.
A knight of Tylesse doesn’t abandon the weak in the face of adversity.
He recalled what he learned from his father, a patriot since childhood.
“Ahh!! Help!! There’s no one here!!”
“Help!! We’re trapped here!!”
Noisy. Ivan clicked his tongue, walking through the tunnel.
In the confined space of the tunnel with extremely limited visibility, when one
sensory organ is blocked, hearing naturally amplifies.
Therefore, shouting in the tunnel is prohibited. Especially if it’s the front line.
It serves as an excellent guide for enemies beyond the tunnel, and the screams
echoing along the tunnel walls distort the sense of direction.
If you lose your way like that, fear increases. Humans are not designed to live in
darkness.
Untrained humans panic in such situations. Shouting again, losing their sense of
direction. The vicious cycle continues.
-Click.
Ivan listened to the screams, pulled out his gun, and walked with closed eyes.
One footstep. Another footstep.
Never in a hurry, yet not leisurely either.
With a stride that feels precisely measured, straight ahead.
Counting every step he has taken, his stride is exactly 86cm. Therefore, by counting
the steps taken, he can mentally draw his path on a map from the point of entry.
A commander of the Cleanup Unit must master field triangulation along with land
navigation.
Oscar’s last confirmed location, Isabelle’s position, and the spot where he leaped
down.
By accurately plotting these three points without error, he can confidently navigate
through the maze-like tunnels and always move with certainty.
“Help!!”
The scream is close. Holding a gun and aiming around waist level, he moves forward.
Considering the average height of a dwarf, the position he aims for is just about head
height. Of course, shooting a dwarf in the head with a gun won’t kill them.
They’re tough bastards.
“Is anyone there?” (Dwarf)
“Here!! I’m here!!” (Student)
“State your name!” (Dwarf)

“I’m Patrick!! No, does it really matter who I am right now?”
Of course, it’s not important. In a disaster situation like this, you should normally
save everyone without discrimination, regardless of who they are.
Ivan chuckled at the sound coming from the end of the tunnel.
That awkward way of speaking, dwarves. They are probably wandering through the
tunnels looking for Oscar and Isabelle.
He felt them getting farther away as he heard the voices of the trapped individuals.
Well, not every student seems to be their target.
“Lucky.”
Patrick survived because he revealed his name first. The dwarves in the tunnels are
probably searching for Oscar and Isabelle.
Enrique is in this area. Therefore, they can’t spend much time. Fighting with Enrique
in the tunnel is the worst way to commit suicide, as vampires have night vision, and
fighting him in the tunnels would be disastrous.
So, those two students won’t die at least by the hands of dwarves.
“Where are you going! Where are you? Help!!”
“Hush. Quiet.”
Ivan approached the student who was shouting, covering the guy’s mouth. The
sounds of breath and bodily fluids, sweaty and moist, were felt beneath his palm.
Ivan gently patted the kid’s shoulder and whispered.
“The guys who just asked for your name are the ones who control this burrow.”
“…Ugh?!”
“Yeah. You almost died. So be quiet.”
“Ugh…! Um, who are you?”

“Rescue team member. Now, be quiet. Do you have a bead?”
“Oscar took it from me!”
Well, it won’t be easy.
Ivan clicked his tongue and asked.
“Is Oscar nearby?”
“Yes, after we lost to Oscar, the ground collapsed almost immediately…”
“Can you walk?”
“Yes, yes!”
“Take this.”
Ivan took out a bead from his belt and handed it to the student.
“Go in that direction for 10m… at least you should see the sky if you walk that far. Go
up there and wait for rescue. Enrique will find you soon.”
“T-Thank you!”
“Quiet. Enemies are still nearby.”
Ivan patted the guy’s shoulder a couple of times and moved on.
**Oscar’s POV**
“State your name!”
“I’m Patrick!! No, does it really matter who I am right now?”
Okay. A rescue team member.
Good. If I escape with them, it’ll be fine.

Fortunately, both of them seem to be alive. That’s a relief.
Oscar sighed and staggered, shifting his steps. He had opened his mouth to shout for
rescue but suddenly closed it.
Something’s strange…?
‘Asking for a name… and then silence.’
There’s no reason to whisper. If there were other students nearby, it would be better
to make a loud noise to alert the rescue team.
So, the sudden silence is suspicious. Oscar’s instincts sounded an alarm.
“Again! Is there anyone else! Any other survivors?!”
“…”
Oscar swallowed saliva, listening intently.
After that guy’s shout, the voices of the two students stopped abruptly.
One assumption came to Oscar’s mind.
– If having such caves underground in the Frechenkaya Forest is not normal.
Come to think of it, the walls are too neatly carved for a cave. If this is not normal,
what if someone dug tunnels and prepared traps?
Then, the guy loudly shouting as if rescuing students…
‘Enemy.’
Oscar gritted his teeth. Fighting an unknown enemy in the deep darkness where
nothing is visible is foolish.
Especially with one leg broken.
‘Just waiting might be better.’

Anyway, he has a location-tracking magical device. As long as Enrique is around, the
rescue team will arrive soon, so he just needs to wait until then.
Oscar gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the knife.
“Hey!! Help!!”
“Student there, what’s your name!?”
From far in the cave, another scream echoed.
Another survivor was screaming.
Damn it.
Oscar stood up. Taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, and after a few hesitations.
He opened his eyes and shouted, “Oscar, the patriot of Tylles, son of Jill Ber, is here!”
Predictable. If these guys are cunning enough to set up such traps, they would
naturally aim for high-value targets. And in the Frechenkaya Forest, the most
valuable target is none other than himself.
Of course, there’s Isabelle, but it’s difficult to argue that she holds a higher value. Her
father is missing, and her current father is a duke of Tylesse.
Naturally, if they were to kidnap someone, it’s better to go for the duke’s son. Even if
the opponent is not a kidnapper, the hatred against him is much greater than that of
Maximilian, the Hero.
So, the possibility of him being the target is very high. Asking for the names of
students all along was suspicious from the start.
“Found you.”
A low voice echoed. Oscar clenched his teeth and raised the knife.
Is this the right thing to do?
Well, who knows if someone will recognize the sacrifice made at the risk of life. Who
will appreciate it?
“I will appreciate it myself.”
Good deeds should only be their own torch.
The highest virtue of good deeds is self-sacrifice unrelated to the recognition of

others.
The knights of Tylles never abandon the weak in the face of adversity.
Oscar bit down on this thought, holding the sword upright.
“Jill Ber has a good son well.”
Ivan chuckled at the sight.
He slowly moved forward, raising his gun.
One step at a time. Not rushing but not leisurely either. Counting each step with
precise strides.
Holding the gun, adjusting the sight to about waist level.
Listening to the heavy footsteps, calculating the stride to estimate the height,
adjusting the sight again.
Waiting for the audible footsteps to reach effective shooting range.
Identifying Oscar’s position and adjusting the line of fire. Directly in front.
Aim, hold breath, and…
Fires.
*BANG!*
Extending the enchantment, spreading seamlessly through every nerve’s corner.
Holding his breath, adjusting the magic’s sensation flowing through his veins.
Click.
Sensations unnoticed before now awaken. The rhythmic passage of time, the
fingertip on the trigger pulling it, even the subtle friction as the gun’s internal spring
twists, all sensed.
Right here is the battlefield of superhumans.
Bang!
Fired. Simultaneously, his eyes open.
The flames bursting from the muzzle momentarily illuminate the dark alley.
The reason for heightened senses is this: To prevent sudden light from blinding his
adapted optic nerves.
Though the stimulated nerves make his eyes sting, it’s okay. It’s familiar.
The auras of three individuals are imprinted on Ivan’s retina like residual scars.
“Gun! Someone else is here!”
“Darn it, where were they hiding?!”
Leaning against the wall, Oscar is the figure. Slowly approaching from beyond the
alley are two small beings—dwarves.
Confirming sparks near the dwarf’s head as the shot is fired.
Wearing standard dwarf infantry gear.

Ivan immediately adjusts the sight and charges forward.
“He’s coming! Get ready!”
The Dwarf in the lead yelled with a snap. Judging by the images still lingering on his
retinas, he was armed with a two-handed axe.
Dwarf infantry standard gear covers the entire body like a golem, providing a thick
and formidable armor that offers almost absolute defense against external attacks.
“Hence the sword.”
The reason he didn’t choose an axe is that it wouldn’t pierce through this armor.
These folks survived even buried under the mountains during past wars.
There was a developed martial art to deal with such individuals.
Swing!
“Hah! Human! You don’t stand a chance!”
The blade scratches the surface of the plate armor, sparking. The resounding clash
accompanies the rebounding sword.
Whooosh!
Detecting the direction and speed, Ivan stoops his waist. A massive axe blade passes
above him, slicing through the air.
Lowering his stance, raising his left hand, and firing again.
Bang!
This time, towards another dwarf behind this one. Sparks fly from the muzzle,
revealing the figure once more.
Posture, balance, weak points in the armor, the smirking expression of the defiant
one, and the long ash-colored beard extending below the jaw.
Ivan held the sword straight and swiftly struck.

Clang!
“This guy!”
The dwarf’s exclamation echoed. A precise strike targeting the joints, executed with
unbelievable precision in the darkness.
However, it’s not enough. The dwarf thinks so and swings the axe again.
Whoosh!
Evading again, clang. Strikes in the same spot. It’s a mechanical repetition of this
process.
The weak points in the armor are the joints covered with chainmail and gambeson.
While providing sufficient protection against conventional weapons, it’s not enough
to withstand the supernatural sword strikes.
So, clang again!
“This technique… Were you on the battlefield ten years ago?”
“Is that all?” (Ivan)
Ivan smirked. It was because Kim Sunwoo in his inner self had screamed for twenty
years.
Emotions set aside, both hands have a task.
Bang!
Firing again. Securing a momentary view and stepping back to avoid the
approaching dwarf from behind, wielding the sword.
Clang, cutting through the chain.
The one who first devised this tactic was Lieutenant Ivan Petrovich. At that time, he
was a captain.
The name of this technique is ‘Dwarf Armor Splitting.’

“This…!!”
Clang, clang!
Finally, the guy’s pauldron tore off. When the blade bounced off due to the impact,
naturally letting go of the hilt, he reached for a dagger at his waist.
Taking out a short dagger from the hip holster, it took only a breath until it was
jammed into the exposed shoulder of the guy.
Swoosh!
“Noooaaagh!!”
A shoulder injury is fatal for a warrior, akin to losing one arm. The movements of the
guy wielding the two-handed axe noticeably slowed down.
But there are only two enemies. Finally, the approaching dwarf warrior swung his
weapon.
“Stop!!”
Whoosh!
Avoiding the weapon again, he raised the left-hand pistol. This shot was aimed
precisely, with controlled breathing.
Bang!
“Nooooaagh!!”
The dagger lodged in the shoulder, aiming exactly at the hilt. The dagger bounced off,
disappearing into the darkness of the alley. The dwarf, with the forcibly torn
shoulder, screamed and sat down in agony.
Now, he rotated his body to reposition. Putting down the pistol and pulling out the
short dagger from the hip holster again.
Shring.
The sword, thrown into the void for the first time, now began its descent. Snatching
the hilt precisely mid-air, Ivan swung it again.
Clang!
Once again, he thrust the ‘Armor Splitting’ technique towards the newly appeared
dwarf. In this moment of controlling breath and time.
Swiftly, inserting the blade and twisting, peeling off layers of armor.
With the precision of a skilled surgeon performing surgery, exactly. One drop at a
time.
In the deep darkness where nothing is visible, facing two dwarves with darkened
vision. Maneuvering both hands simultaneously.
Disassembling their respective armors, thrusting daggers into exposed flesh,

throwing the sword into the void, firing the pistol, and catching the falling sword to
swing again.
***
“What is this…?” (Oscar)
Oscar stared wide-eyed, swallowing a groan.
He had just vowed to fight with all his might, to live up to the title of a knight,
moments ago.
And now, in front of him, a giant was slaughtering unknown enemies.
“The sounds almost overlap.” (Oscar)
This is beyond common sense. The sound of sword swinging almost overlapped. In
other words, the gaps between sword strikes were extremely dense.
How is such movement possible? Oscar chuckled in disbelief.
If that assailant is that guy, there’s no escape.

The battle ended in an instant. The mysterious figure who leaped in the moment the
first shot was heard, returned with a strong scent of blood before two breaths could
finish.
“Do you see anything by any chance?” (Oscar)
Humans don’t have dark vision. The races with such abilities are limited to dwarves
and maybe demons. So, this question also implied whether he was human.
“It’s not necessary to see to fight.” (Ivan)
“Hah…” (Oscar)
“Is your leg injured?” (Ivan)
“Yes, embarrassingly, it broke when I got entangled in the rubble.” (Oscar)
“Do you have the bead?” (Ivan)
“Yes.” (Oscar)
“Then wait quietly here. Silently.” (Ivan)
The man turned away and left. Oscar hurriedly raised his head.
“Just a moment! Can I at least hear your name?” (Oscar)
“Ivan Petrovich.” (Ivan)
“Where are you going? If I can help, I will!” (Oscar)
“A student should be studying.” (Ivan)
The man’s laughter echoed in the darkness.
As he left, his footsteps returned, and he placed his hand on Oscar’s head.
“I never liked your father, but he seems to have succeeded in educating you, Oscar,
son of Jill Ber. Your actions were excellent.” (Ivan)
“Do you know my father?”
“If that guy hasn’t forgotten me yet, we’re friends.”
The man turned away again. This time, without looking back, he left silently.
Towards somewhere beyond the alley, steadily, step by step. The rhythmic footsteps
gradually faded away.
***
Isabelle sat silently in the darkness.
Fortunately, she had come down without major injuries, but she wasn’t foolish
enough to move recklessly in a place where nothing seemed visible.
“The test will be canceled, right? I won’t fail just like this, will I?”
That was her only concern. It seemed like four hours had already passed, but it was
impossible to gauge exactly how much time had elapsed.
Thud, thud.
Isabelle’s head snapped up. She heard footsteps.
Had the rescue team finally arrived? Isabelle stood up abruptly and shouted, hoping
for an answer.
“Here! There’s someone!” (Isabelle)
“What’s your name?”
“Isabelle! No, that’s not important right now. Hurry, rescue me!”
“Found her! Secure the target! Call the captain!”
“Huh?”
Target? Captain?
Isabelle’s head spun for a moment, bewildered by the suddenly crumbling ground,
the rushing soil, and the cave where nothing was visible.
In there, ‘target,’ ‘captain.’ Could it be…?
“For real! It’s getting annoying!”
Again! Again, terrorism in this forest, and this time, terrorism aimed at her.
How many fell victim to this terrorism? How many sacrificed amidst all this?
Isabelle ground her teeth in frustration.
Judging by the way they said they secured the target, and considering that they
appeared only after she fell into the trap, this was undoubtedly not an incident
involving just one or two people.
Soon, the heavy footsteps echoed throughout the entire cave.
Thud, thud, thud.
A group of individuals was approaching her. Silently, without a hint of noise.
Trained soldiers. And they had ‘dark vision’ or a similar spell. It would be necessary
to move in groups in this dark cave.
Isabelle raised her sword straight. Her eyes were burning with anger.
No more sacrifices on behalf of others. Living with guilt for those sacrificed had
become tiresome.
So, to release this boundless anger, she took a deep breath.
“I am Isabelle, daughter of Maximilian and Marie. A knight of Tylesse. State your

names!”
“Impressive display of spirit.”
A deep voice was heard in the distance.

“Fifth Squadron, 3rd Battalion under the command of ‘Webmaker’ Combat Unit. I’m
Senior Lieutenant Asturk. In your terms, I guess I’d be something like a Commander
of a Thousand.”
Upon hearing this, Isabelle thought of Icarus, the white commander. The fight with
him was a matter of life and death. If his rank was equivalent to a Commander of a
Thousand in the logic of power, then…
‘He’s stronger than that guy back then.’
Isabelle tightly sealed her lips. Although being a Commander of a Thousand might
not make him simply ten times stronger than a Commander, the difference in
strength was clear.
And he wasn’t alone. A series of groups were approaching with him.
Moreover, the visibility was extremely limited. Not just limited, it was to the extent of
seeing nothing at all.
“Am I really going to die like this…?
No fear. The moment she held the sword, death was something she always
anticipated.
She thought of her father. Maximilian wouldn’t have shown fear even in such a
situation.
So. At least in front of the demons, she shouldn’t show fear in the face of death.
She was a knight of Tylesse. And the daughter of a warrior. Among the numerous
privileges she enjoyed, she had no right to feel fear.
Only duty. Duty to be unyielding even in the face of death.
“Come. I, Isabelle of Tyless, will stand and die today!”
“Comrade. How old is that guy we are dealing with?”
“Yes, Captain! The little one is turning twenty this year!”

“Adjust the plan. Make sure to kill. Leaving a hostage is not an option.”
Anyone near the level of a Commander of a Thousand demon would remember the
Hero Party. Even if they hadn’t faced them directly, Heroes were a concept that
embodied ‘death’ for the demons.
Encounter them, and you die. Get close, and you die. The moment the rumor spread,
if you didn’t run away, you would die.
It was truly a natural disaster. Moreover, it belonged to the category of unpredictable

disasters. The movement route of the warrior party was the top-secret information
of the United Kingdom, so the Hero party always ‘ambushed’ enemy territories.
No matter how many tracking teams were dispatched, none returned. They
thoroughly concealed their location.
The hero party, who had reigned over the demons with terror, finally assassinated
the Demon King. And the war ended. Unfortunately for the demons, there was no
chance to overcome the ‘hero trauma.’
She must be killed.
It was necessary to inform comrades in the homeland that even the ‘symbol of
terror’ could not escape death…
“Yeah, try to kill me. A Tyless knight will never back down.”
Isabelle wanted to run, wanted to hesitate, she was just a girl, barely past twenty.
But she couldn’t.
Considering the numerous people sacrificed in the train terror that day and the
motives of those caught up in the current terror.
She had no right to despair in the face of the approaching death.
‘That’s a bit regrettable.’
The lingering regret of not having a date with the old man was definitely there. Now,
thinking about it, the emotions she felt when thinking about the old man were
definitely more than just goodwill.
So, it’s a shame. She could have expressed a bit more.
*Chuk, chuk, chuk.*
“…?”
A rhythmic sound echoed from beyond the cave.
Chuk, chuk. A short noise of rubbing tongue and front teeth.
What is this sound? Asturk squinted, pondering in the tension and silence before the
battle. The sound was somehow familiar.
‘Rhythmic sound of rubbing tongue…? Human, echolocation!’
As memories resurfaced, several assumptions followed in succession.
‘There is only one group of humans proficient enough to use echolocation in battle.’
‘That group was secretly cultivated during the time of the Krasilov monarchy.’
‘And this place is Krasilov… ’
Asturk was astonished, raising his weapon sharply.
If the hero party embodied the terror of death,
‘That group’ embodied the ‘Night Terror,’ which made even the dark-sighted demons
fear darkness.
Assassins Enrique trained with all her might.
If the warrior party was a presence that symbolized the fear of death,
‘That group’ were beings who embodied the ‘Fear of the Night,’ which even terrified
demons with dark vision.
Asturk was startled and raised his weapon tightly.
If the warrior party had embodied the terror of death,
‘That group’ embodied the ‘Fear of the Night,’ which made even the dark-sighted
demons afraid. They were beings who embodied the ‘Fear of the Night’ that even
terrified the demons with dark vision.
‘When,’ ‘where,’ and ‘how’ questions were meaningless for them.
Literally, at ‘any time,’ ‘anywhere,’ and ‘anyhow,’ they fulfilled their objectives and
disappeared like shadows of the night.
“Cleansup Unit!! Those cursed beings are still here?! Comrades, raise your weapons!
Be on guard!”
-Chuk, chuk, chuk…
The rhythmic noise echoed through the cave and abruptly stopped.
Silence descended heavily. The dwarves, who seemed ready to charge at any
moment, were now constructing fortifications in their positions, hunkering down
firmly.
Isabelle swallowed hard, scanning her surroundings. Although nothing was visible,
she could sense that something was off about the enemies.
‘Cleansup Unit…? What’s that…?’
It was a name she had never heard before. However, it seemed famous to the
demons. The calm demeanor they had just shown, as if they were on a leisurely stroll
through the town, froze instantly.
And then.
-Clang.
Along with the solid sound of metal rubbing.
-Boom!
There was light.
Dwarves have dark vision. Since they originally lived underground, it wasn’t strange.
Although it doesn’t mean they can see through darkness like daylight, they can
relatively perceive objects clearly in the dark.
So, Asturk could see the man approaching.
‘A big dwarf?’
Asturk was confused!
***
“Isabelle.” (Ivan)
“Oh, uncle?!! How did you get here…?!” (Isabelle)
“Are you hurt?” (Ivan)
Ivan walked towards Isabelle and stood by her. He briefly made a ‘hmm’ sound and
placed his hand on Isabelle’s shoulder.
“Yes! Yes, I’m fine!” (Isabelle)
“Good. Stay still in this spot.” (Ivan)
Guardian duty was part of the elite training, but ensuring perfect safety in the dark
was challenging. Ivan, being efficient, didn’t dwell on how his words might sound.
‘I’ve seen this before… like in romance novels!’ Isabelle’s eyes rolled.
The tension eased, and she sighed. Her legs trembled; the fear of an unexpected
encounter with a man in a life-threatening situation couldn’t be ignored. Plus, the
words ‘Stay in that spot’ sounded like a knight in a story asking to wait until they
defeat an ancient dragon. ‘
‘This is a confession. Huh, awkward… well, can’t help it. Accepting it right away seems a
bit much, so yeah. I’ll ask him if he’s free this weekend. As a reward.’
***
A pistol in his left hand, a longsword in his right. Five daggers at his waist and an axe
slung across his back.
Ivan took a quick inventory of his weapons and walked slowly forward.
Ivan took a low breath.
There are some signs that are common to all creatures. Hormonal mechanisms.
The enhancement of the body by magic, the extreme streamlining of the

neurotransmitter system, leads to a number of cascading effects. Among them is the
amplification of each of the sensory organs.
Take the sense of smell, for example. It’s able to pick up even the smallest odors in
the air.
Therefore, detecting the volatile odor produced by evaporating sweat becomes

possible. In the realm of superhumans, this is an extremely important indicator.
Because you can read the opponent’s emotions.
Even in this primitive pre-modern society where the word ‘hormone’ doesn’t exist
yet, the human structure follows the same laws, so body odor subtly changes with
emotions. This becomes a physical indicator of emotions like ‘survival,’ ‘fear,’ and
‘affection.'”
When a living being feels fear, cortisol is secreted. This unique scent was slowly
permeating among the dwarves.
“Are you scared?” (Ivan)
“Nonsense!” (Asturk)
Asturk walked, alongside with his comrades. Since war ultimately involves a
psychological struggle, it’s challenging for a fight to occur when one side is pushed
back in morale. Instinctively, he categorized the fight with Ivan as a ‘war,’ deliberately
ignoring the fact and raised his weapon.
“Cleansup Unit. Those fuckers… I’ll kill them and honor the spirits of my comrades
who left before me!” (Asturk)
“Well, that’s what you all say.” (Ivan)
It took Asturk and everyone some time to relalize.
That’s what you all say?
Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine. Who is he currently talking to?
It was a matter-of-fact confession that Ivan heard such words several times, and he
had killed them all.
Asturk raised his axe with a determined gaze. In sync with his movement, everyone
in the prepared formation raised their weapons.
Clank, clank.
The heavy noise of metal friction echoed in the passage.
Ah, this is nostalgic.
Memories of the previous battlefield where he faced Dwarven guards on the

gangway.
It was during the Mine War.
Ivan thought while holding his sword. A narrow indoor space with limited visibility,
Dwarves filling the entire corridor. Formidable guards impervious to axes or bullets.
Back then, he wasn’t alone. By his side were other comrades who always supported
him.
Now, they are gone. In the midst of deep loss, Ivan gripped his sword.
However, they are not the military force of those days. At best, there are around
thirty of them. Even with a generous estimate, it doesn’t exceed fifty. A small infantry
unit.
And he is not the Lieutenant Ivan Petrovich of that time.
Ten years have passed since the Mine War.
Ivan has accumulated ten years’ worth of experience.
***
-Bang—!!
It starts with gunfire. The goal is to secure visibility simultaneously with the threat.
In the slow sense of time, where space is fragmented, Ivan sprinted.
The stopped Dwarven guards are like turtles. Solid, stubborn, and leisurely.
Therefore, the layers of tactics need to be placed on speed.
“He’s coming!!”
A terrified voice echoes in the passage. It’s a familiar situation.
Dwarves usually belonged to the rear infiltration units in demon armies, and such
operations were the most suitable environment for the Cleansup Unit.
So, during wartime, the Cleansup Unit was always recognized as the unit that killed
the most dwarves individually.
-Kaang!
A welcome greeting is a sword strike. The swing downward is a feint. Before the one
at the forefront can react, a light stroke hits the shoulder.
His weapon immediately comes forward. Dodging the piercing strike, Ivan turns and
avoids it.
Closing his eyes, he counts the seconds. Ivan is precisely counting his steps.
One stride is 86cm. Isabelle is five steps behind.
It takes seven steps to reach the leader of the guards. The width of the formation is
twelve steps.
The range he can act in is seventeen steps.
-Kaang!!
In an instant, he dives in, avoiding various infantry weapons pouring over him.
Kaang, kagak! The noise of thrusting the sword under the elbow of the frontmost
opponent is heard.
Clank, clank. The sound of heavy-armored opponents moving intertwines.
Under his closed eyes, the distorted shapes of those he killed during the explosion
replay.
Analyzing each ambient noise, he adjusts the positions and postures of the guards in
real-time.
“You monster!!”
As he parries one opponent and slashes an arm, such a sound is heard.
Monster. Amusing. Ivan knew the true meaning of ‘monsters’ in a fight.
-Kaduk!
Ignoring the horrific scream of the disarmed opponent, he twirls his body two steps
to the side.
Inserting a dagger below the neck of the opponent who had just raised his arm to
chop with an axe, then another step half to the right.
-Kagak!
The next opponent was swinging a war hammer. Lowering his stance and
sidestepping the formidable strike, Ivan stabs with his sword.
-Kaduk. The sword with its edge hanging by a thread broke.
It was expected. From the moment of the fight, he felt the blade wearing away
through the sensation in his fingertips.
So, he doesn’t panic. Ivan is familiar with durability at this level.
“He dropped his weapon!!”
No, he let it go.
Ivan lowered his head and moved two steps to the side. Right below his foot, the axe
had fallen precisely. It was the weapon the guy who had his arm cut off missed.
Picking it up, he dodged the next attack and raised his left hand.
Aim, align the breath, and fire.
-Baang—!!
“Aaaaah!!”
The broken sword was stuck between the guy’s teeth, precisely into the gap in his
armor. A precise pinpoint shot. Like hammering a nail, the guy’s chest burst open.
Throwing the pistol into the air, Ivan ran forward. Catching the combat hammer the
guy dropped with his left hand, he twisted his body.
One hand up, the other to the side.
And cleanly swinging down in a cross motion.
-Kwaang!!
As the fallen axe stuck into a guy’s helmet, the hammer swung without hesitation,
slashing through his head.
As the guy’s body lost strength and twisted, Ivan threw the hammer and caught the
airborne pistol.
Without aiming, directly facing the commander five steps ahead.
Fire.
-Baang—!!
This time, he opened his eyes. The situation became clear at a glance. When the
flames of the pistol subsided, he closed his eyes again and visualized the altered
formation of the guards.
The battlefield’s noise, the guards’ scent, the positions of those engraved below the
retina. The sensation of wind brushing against his cheek.
The battlefield between superhumans, between breaths.
Ah, I miss it.
Ivan, reaffirming, dashed forward.
Because the human body is fragile. Even a small dagger can render someone
powerless and lifeless.
Close-quarter combat is always a crossroads between life and death, where one
stakes their life.
In the midst of clearly unfavorable situations, amidst enemy lines.
He had forgotten this sensation, the rush towards the enemy’s heart. For four years
after the last battle, there hadn’t been a situation worthy of being called combat.
So, in this familiar battlefield, Ivan was experiencing an almost nostalgic feeling.
Being a highly objective person, he considered himself flawed.
This feeling became even more pronounced in everyday life. Among people who
laughed and chatted casually, he felt a sense of isolation.
Thus, here. In this moment of life and death. He could be someone necessary.
He was still living in the war, despite hating the battlefield, despite living a mundane
life, despite longing for his homeland.
Feeling the scent of missed comrades, Ivan counted his steps.
Now, one step.
There, 86cm ahead, were the ‘heads’ of those guys.
***
What kind of feeling should one get from the cannibal who faintly smiles while
‘slaughtering’ comrades?
With every breath, comrades fall one by one.
Block, kill, don’t! Stop! My arm! Agh!
In the midst of this, screams couldn’t surpass syllables. On that battlefield where
only the terminal echoed.
The Cleansup Unit’s cannibal continued ‘work’ silently, without saying a word.
Shattered armor flies above heads. Torn limbs and droplets of blood scatter in the
air.
It’s a storm. A form of disaster each individual cannot resist.
Literally sweeping, holding weapons, rushing.
Finally, even when it swiftly approached in front of his eyes.
His breathing was unchanged, just like the beginning.
“I am… I am Senior Lieutenant Asturk, commanding officer of the 3rd Battalion

under the 5th Dragon Brigade, ‘Webmaker’ Engineering Corps. What is your name?”
“Hah…”
Asturk nodded.
He had heard that Ivan was dead.
So, that’s how it was. He was alive. If the reason he could intrude into this forest at
the most precise moment was that, it could be understood.
“That beard. Are you imitating us?”
“…?”
Ivan’s face distorted for the first time.
Though Ivan was a very pragmatic guy, he never disregarded the insult to the Sun
King.
Instead of answering, he swung the axe a nameless soldier was holding.
***
“Now you can move.” (Ivan)
“My legs feel loose now.” (Isabelle)
Isabelle laughed as she heard Ivan’s approaching footsteps.
It was a battle that could be clearly felt even by just hearing the sound. Even standing
still right behind, she could feel the heat of the battle reaching her.
Honestly, it was overwhelming.
She stretched out her arms and said, “Lift me up.”
It was better to be carried than to wait for her legs to recover.
As Ivan was an efficient person, he lifted her without saying a word.
Soon, warm hands wrapped around his neck.
“Are you hurt?”

“No.”
“You’ve been through a lot.”
“Yeah.”
“Today might be a bit much, but can I treat you to dinner tomorrow evening?”
Ivan was currently an undercover agent in the reconnaissance headquarters.
Being an upright person, he didn’t embezzle money from the guarded subject.
“No.”
“Ugh.”
The practical training of the Knight Department at Jan’s University was targeted by
terrorists. When this information reached the intelligence headquarters, Dmitry
grimaced and said, “Punish those bastards.”
“Yes, sir.”
The intelligence headquarters closely monitored the university event. Naturally,

safety measures for the training site were impeccably prepared.
As for the Crown Prince’s faction, they remained quiet since the last incident.
Foreign anti-government organizations, disabled fools, what could they possibly do?
And demons? Do they have the resources to deploy forces near Frechenkaya?
So, based on objective evidence and rational inference, Dmitry believed there was no
threat to Jan’s University.
What kind of idiot would plant a terrorist organization in the capital and try to
disrupt a university event?
And blow up the royal palace in the meantime. And to top it off, Enrique personally
leads her students on a training exercise?
Those lackeys. What have they done so far? Are they just eating a blind salary?
As a result, when the third informant told the same story, Dmitri had a grimace face,
wiping his dry face.
“…Deduct my salary.”
“Yes, Colonel.”
He turned.
He grabbed his coat and left the headquarters. He had to meet his senior. Being on-
site, he might know something.
***
“Hey, Essi.” (Isabelle)
“Sure, fine.” (Ecdysis)
“We haven’t begun our conversation yet.” (Isabelle)
“This is the fourth time I’ve heard it.” (Ecdysis)
Ecdysis regarded Isabelle with a solemn look.
When news of the terrorist attack during the practical training spread throughout
the university, she rushed to find her longtime, almost only friend.
But when she arrived at her house, there was no sign of the victims of the terror.
Next to six broken wooden swords, she smashed a scarecrow with a new one,
detailed with meticulous beard drawings.
“Still, listen. I feel like I’m losing my sanity and feeling confused,” Isabelle expressed.
“Hmm,” Ecdysis responded.
“Don’t misunderstand. This is about a friend.”
Ecdysis halted just before the harsh reality, refraining from blurting out, “You don’t
have any friends except me.”
She’s such a kind and delicate music student.
“Whenever I’m in peril, he materializes, rescues me, handles everything, and goes as
far as meeting me in person to confide secrets. I believe he has feelings for me.”
(Isabelle)
“That’s quite a particular interpretation…” (Ecdysis)

“Then, is there another explanation? He can’t possibly see me only as a friend.”
(Isabelle)
Maximilian was practically a vegetative. Due to political and economic reasons, that’s
almost the same as being missing for four years—essentially treated as dead even in
South Korea.
So, Isabelle is informally in a stepfamily. Her mother was common, so aside from the
favors Tylesse Palace provides, she has no special social or economic background.
It might be unjust for a real orphan like Yuri to hear, but Isabelle genuinely believed
that.
“That’s… is it?” (Isabelle)
It might be unjust for a truly poor girl to hear, but from Ecdysis’s perspective,
Isabelle is economically vulnerable. (Isabelle even has a two-story house with a
yard.)
Ecdysis is a princess of a country, Einar’s eldest daughter, and his most cherished
child. She is so wealthy that she could smack a bandit over the head with a musical
instrument that costs as much as a house.
Therefore, their conversation showed a peculiar understanding.
Honestly, there’s probably nothing to gain by approaching Isabelle. Isn’t this just
poking fun?
When their discussion reached this point, Isabelle felt unfairly treated, pounding her
chest.
“Then why does he always refuse whenever I invite him to eat?” (Isabelle)
“No, listen. A girl who’s ten years younger, attractive, kind, excels in school and
sports, and leads a good life. If he doesn’t like her, why is he pushing her away?”
(Isabelle)
“You really seem to be obsessed with that friend of yours…” (Ecdysis)
When an incomprehensible result is reached, people start interpreting the situation

in the direction they want to believe.
Confirmation bias is a scary thing.
In the end, Ecdysis nodded and said, “I’ll look into it. My uncle mentioned that he’s
close to that guy. You never know. He might be a huge flirt, fooling around with
everyone.”
Was it to that extent? Isabelle thought, contemplating Ivan’s face. A flirt… messing
around with various women…?
Hmm. From the perspective of a man as cool as him, that’s possible… is it? Yeah, it
seems likely.
Isabelle was in confusion!
Sadly, Yuri, who could have appropriately intervened, was currently lying in the
theology department’s infirmary. Therefore, there was no one here to explain that
the mad ax-wielder John Wick would kill ten more people in the time it took him to
approach a woman…
***
Ivan’s day is busy. Operating the orphanage, going to university to manage the trees,
providing security for the warrior trainees, organizing daily reports and the
orphanage’s financial records – only after all this can he have some rest.
His rest usually involves cleaning his sergeant’s gear. Grinding the axe blade until the
cotton is cut without a sound, disassembling and cleaning the firearms, then leaning
back on the couch after oiling them, he closes his eyes for a moment.
That was Ivan’s day.
The crucial point is that it has now become past tense. After the practical training
terror incident, several days in a row, Enrique has been occupying his precious
resting place, protesting and refusing to leave.
“Enrique, it’s time to go home now.” (Ivan)
“What are you talking about? I made a promise, right? A promise that can’t be
broken, huh? No camaraderie?”
“…Isn’t it simply that you don’t want to go to work?” (Ivan)
“Master is upset. Young Ivan always believed everything I said. Bring back my old
Ivan.” (Enrique)
Since the practical training terror incident, Enrique had secluded herself in the
orphanage director’s office.
As the main culprit who entangled around 50 noble trainees in the terror incident,
she was being pursued and avoided by everyone.
“I feel unjust. I mean, did you think it was me? If there’s a kid who expects the
dwarves to suddenly barge in, they should catch him and torture him. F*ck.”
(Enrique)
“Well.” (Ivan)
In an instant, Ivan, who became a demon spy, nodded without saying a word.
“That’s what I’m saying. And hey, don’t try to dump it all on me just because you
don’t want to take responsibility. You’re not quite an adult.” (Enrique)
Those words of yours aren’t quite adult, Ivan thought inwardly.
Ivan believed that even if he lived for over a century, he didn’t want to grow old in
such a way.
“So, what I’m saying is, um. How about I express my remorse and retire? No matter
how I think about it, it seems like I’ve been living too hard. Isn’t it time for a break,
even just a little?” (Enrique)
“Hmm.”
“How about a trip? How about the sea? I don’t like mountains.”
“Why does it sound like I’m going with you?”
“Well, because you’re going with me?”

As a practical person, Ivan had no intention of entertaining the ramblings of an
elderly person from over a century ago.
He snatched Enrique’s teacup and said, “Anyway, the university won’t hold you
accountable for anything special. It was literally an accident.”
“Th-that’s true?”
“Yeah. Initially, the responsibility should lie with the intelligence headquarters.
Preventing the infiltration of hostile forces is their job.”
“Really… Good!”
Enrique stood up, applauding. It seemed like she simply wanted comfort since she
couldn’t have missed something so simple.
Ivan knows how to respect the elderly. Unlike this undeveloped world, South Korea
has established Confucian principles of ethics, morality, social norms, and the
longevity tradition. (There is room for controversy.)
He is such a polite person.
“So, now, go back. I have a lot to do too.”
“Oh, Master is sorry for taking up your busy time!”
“It’s nothing.”
Saint Basilicia Orphanage was his masterpiece, created with all the connections and
assets he had accumulated throughout his life.
Ivan, who originally had no plans to turn this place into a nursing home for vampire
elders, chased Enrique, who had a wounded expression, out of the director’s office.
“Oh, right. Going to the sea is not a joke. Since it turned out like this, experiential
learning. Should we try something like that again? Besides, I heard whispers from
the royal court.”
“The royal court?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Why, Krasilov is struggling a bit with the tourism industry.
University students are all from noble families, and later they’ll be in their own
positions. Let’s do some promotion in advance. It’s like a national project!”
“…It might be better to give up.”
The idea is understood, but it’s a very foolish choice.
Academy group tourism always leads to a terrible crisis.
If it’s the sea, bizarre tribes like mermaids or krakens might inexplicably pop up.
But Ivan is a practical person. He had no desire to be treated like a vampire goblin or
a prophet, so he had enough courtesy not to force his ‘common sense’ on others.
After roughly seeing off Enrique, he sat down and let out a deep sigh.
Now I can finally rest a bit.
He took out his cherished axe for mental stability, and, after oiling it, began the
careful process of wiping it with an oiled cloth.
***
While Ivan enjoyed a quiet time with his sentimental axe, Ecdysis was secretly
making contact with her uncle, who was volunteering at the orphanage, to gather
intelligence.
‘Professor Enrique shared the same room for three days…?!’
Ecdysis couldn’t bring herself to share this shocking information with her long-time
friend. After all, Professor Enrique is her father’s friend and a member of the hero
party!
Ecdysis remembered her well. While she behaved like a quiet professor at the
university, her true nature was that of a vampire.
During her active duty days, soldiers who fell for her charms were countless across a
front line. A bewitching beauty with overwhelming magical power, she secretly
admired Enrique back in those days…
Honestly, when compared to Enrique, Isabel has very little chance. Excluding the fact
that she’s younger, how could she compete with the hero of the warrior party?
Ecdysis sobbed, recalling her friend’s sad love. Her pure heart crumbled amidst the
despicable love games of adults (no, it’s not that).
‘I have to keep Bella unaware… ’
Ecdysis wasn’t bold enough to calmly reveal the fact that the person actively
pursuing her friend (no, not that) regularly engages in physical relationships with
university professors (no, not that either), a dreadful womanizer (it’s a
misunderstanding).
Holding her three-month-old baby (violin) tightly, Ecdysis swore to handle the man
within her limits.
For the sake of her friend and brothers, a warrior of Drovian doesn’t hesitate to stain
her hands with blood.
And she is the best warrior in Drovian, the daughter of King Einar. She firmly vowed
to become a just warrior sworn to her father’s honor, dedicated to eliminating
cunning adversaries.
As previously mentioned, the United Kingdoms have been diligently enhancing their
intelligence agencies.
Among the twelve nations within the United Kingdom, four hold significant
influence: Drovian, Kalion, Tylesse, and Krasilov. These nations exhibit a higher
degree of specialization compared to the rest.
For instance, Drovian’s information organization consists of devotees of the four

prime elements.
Constantly possessing solutions like water.
Enchanting flames that, when ignited, make you vomit up the truth.
A mystical breeze that, when suspended on a pole, unveils the past.
Quiet soil that, when buried, shrouds all truth.
Gathering the love of your elements completes Drovian-style information

organization. In reality, it simply means bringing them and offering.
On the other hand, elves in Kalion’s military prefer sophisticated methods. As

leaders in Mind Sorcery, their intelligence is refined and amiable, specializing in
friendly information acquisition through bonding, manipulation of memories, and
active use of mind spells.
Tylesse, the kingdom of knights, straightforwardly asks when curious, except

considering it an insult and initiating a duel if not answered.
Conversely, the Cleansup Unit, once part of it and its predecessor ‘Enrique’s
Children,’ and the subsequent Krasilov Intelligence Division, favor remarkably
modern espionage activities such as observation, evidence collection, signal
intelligence, technological information acquisition, terrain reconnaissance, and
establishing human intelligence networks.
In summary, they engage in conventional espionage activities that other powers

consider “old-fashioned.”
-Today, had a sandwich for lunch with chicken breast and mustard sauce. Concerns
about nutritional imbalance; lacking vegetables except tomatoes. Recommend a
more vegetarian-focused diet.
Ivan, responsible for the safety and health of the hero party members, paused from
the telescope, leaving a crucial information memo in his notebook.
Episode 46: Stalker vs. Stalker
The unprecedented situation of all Knight Department freshmen being confined to

hospital beds brought unexpected consequences.
“This can’t be real!!”
The exam period extended by a week.
If only a few examinees were absent, they would either have faced failure or taken
makeup exams.
However, with almost all undergraduate students becoming severely injured

patients, the university declared a one-week suspension.
For practical exams, it didn’t matter, but for written exams, it posed a different
challenge. Physical education students, experiencing exam preparation for the first
time, vented their frustration.
The main targets were mainly theology, magic, fine arts, and music…
Especially music students.
“Why are you guys so lucky!!” (A certain student)
“We’re all from the same art department!! Why are only you guys so happy!!” (A
certain student from knight department)
“I can’t believe this! It’s not real! Why do knights need to study for written exams?”
(A certain student from knight department)
By the way, music majors also study written exams. Music history, formal analysis,
counterpoint, harmony. I would even argue that they have more subjects based on
written exams than knight majors.
Of course, such facts are not important to the sword and shield department.
Those music guys.
While hardworking individuals sweat to make a living day by day, these guys just sit
on the market floor, singing and earning money! (Busking is a very challenging job.)
“Sigh. Smell the sweat. When entering Uncle’s restaurant, you should take a shower.
That means wetting your body, creating enough foam with soap, thoroughly cleaning
every corner, and rinsing with water again.” (A certain music student)
“These crazy bitches…!!” (A certain music student)
During this time, such scenes were easily found throughout the university campus.
The enraged Knight Department students and the mocking looks of the Music
Department students.
It’s unknown who thought of grouping the Knight Department and the Music
Department into the same arts school, but there must have been a curse involved.
Ecdysis was singing a sad song in this chaotic era.
***
“Who come next?” (Ecdysis)
“Crazy bitch… A crazy bitch…!”
Outdoor gymnasium at the arts university.

Ecdysis eerily stared at the twisted violin held upside down in her hand.
Behind her were fellow department students.
In front of her, the disheveled students of Knighthood.
At her feet, five corpses with their heads blown off (no, not really).
All of this was the result of the strongest music student standing up for justice.
The first generation of Vio-unni sacrificed itself for her friend.
The second generation of Vio-unni was taken away in vain.
And now, here. The third generation of Vio-unni was fighting to protect her honor.
As reflected at some point, instruments are the lifeblood of musicians.
With determination in her heart, Ecdysis was chastising those who dared to enter
the music department’s main gate without understanding the meaning of music.
“Knight Department 1st-years defeated by a Music Department 1st-year, already

five!”
“Ahahaha!”
“See, you ignorant fools. ‘Music,’ highly developed, is indistinguishable from ‘force.'”
“Go back. And tell everyone… the Music Department will now ‘rule’ over the entire
Arts University…”
The upperclassmen didn’t join the freshmen’s playful antics.
Knight Department upperclassmen watched while eating popcorn, enjoying the

spectacle of the 1st-years being beaten. Music Department upperclassmen didn’t
bother challenging Knight Department 1st-years in the first place.
Thus, this naturally formed ‘duel’ was turning into a festival for the Arts University
1st-year students. (Note: The Knight Department is still in the exam period.)
Traitors like Yuri, Isabelle, Oscar, and others in the top-ranking lines of their
departments, to everyone’s surprise, were diligently studying for their exams,
ignoring this spectacle. Therefore, only one option remained for the students.
A demon who, without studying, made the entire department kneel with just one
practical exam…!
“Let’s teach them a lesson, Boss!”
“That’s right, Boss. If you intervene, they’re all done for!”
A freshman ran off, shouting third-rate villain lines.
Soon, a shabby middle-aged man appeared from somewhere. Mord, the strongest
Knight Department 1st-year, was there.
“No, I need to prepare for the next exam…” (Mord)
“Don’t lie, Boss!! And is that trivial exam more important than the honor of the
department, which is now rolling on the ground?”
What are these assholes talking about?
Certainly, they were the only ones bothered by exams, and if exams are insignificant
now, what was the purpose of getting upset in the first place?
The wise Drovian Huscal quickly realized. Ah, they just want to escape from exams
and have fun.
As he regained his composure and looked straight ahead, he saw Ecdysis gripping a
partially broken violin tightly.
“How many months did you spend this time (for the violin), Eshi?”
“Just one month, Uncle…”
“Impressive. Still, you went over three weeks.”
Mord nodded approvingly and turned away.

“Forfeit. I lost. Ah, the Music Department is too strong. She’s Einar’s daughter, after
all.”
“Unbelievable… Is blood ties more important than academic standing, Boss…? The
honor of the Knight Department!?”
“By the way, Eshi and I are not related by blood. It’s adoption.” (Mord)
“Drovian… I will never forget it…!!” (A certain knight department student)
“Don’t talk nonsense; go study for your exams, you guys.” (Mord)
“From today, you are not my brother anymore!!” (A certain knight department
student)
With a sobbing noble from Tylesse rushing to the main building of the
undergraduate department, the day’s commotion came to an end.
Ivan quietly observed the scene from behind a tree and adjusted his notes with a
pen.
– Ecdysis. Percussion instruments suit you more than string instruments.
***
“Damn it. This is not the time for this!”
Ecdysis was furious, so engrossed in the commotion that she forgets what she is
supposed to be doing.
Of course, her duty is to be a student.
However, Ecdysis Einarsdottir, a 1st-year student in the Department of Music, and

‘Isabelle’s friend’ Ecdysis should be entirely different individuals.
It was a time when not an ordinary music student, but a warrior armed with justice
and cooperation, was needed.
Coincidentally, Vio-unni had just spilled some blood.

Ecdysis steadied her resolve and moved forward. To find the cunning adversary
hiding somewhere on this campus.
To understand the enemy’s intentions and to administer justice.
Her father would surely support her righteous power.
***
To emphasize once again, Ivan is an entirely harmless and ordinary-looking faculty

member.
Originally, he was a master of concealment, infiltration, and covert operations. If he

wanted to appear ordinary, he could be more ordinary than anyone.
But there was no need for such advanced infiltration techniques. Fundamentally, he
had an unremarkable appearance that, when passing by, could easily be forgotten.
“Eek…!”
A student from the Department of Magic fled, causing a commotion.
As Ivan hung from the top of a tree, hidden behind a shadow, the student who
noticed him should be praised for their keen eyesight.
Of course, Ivan had memorized the profiles of all the students in this campus, so he
recognized the young man who just fled. The one who had once littered cigarette
butts without permission and received a ‘smoking cessation clinic.’ A shamefaced
student indeed.
Typical university behavior. Ivan nodded expressionlessly and shifted his gaze.
Elpheira.
Daughter of Veolgrin.
1st-year top student in the Department of Magic, a genius who set the highest score
in the department’s entrance practical exam.
He looked at Elpheira, who was squinting her eyes, holding his notepad.
– Except for a few followers, interpersonal relationships are not smooth. Resembles
her father.
He sincerely wrote a profile, filled only with honesty and without any ill intentions.
“Hmm.”
Ivan sensed someone’s gaze and turned his head.
***
“…It wasn’t just Bella…”
Isabelle, and perhaps even Enrique, might not have been the sole ‘prey’ of that man,
she thought.
The terror of the predator observing someone from a distance, searching for
‘weaknesses,’ weighed on her.
The rumor’s protagonist, who sent all 50 Knight Department freshmen to the
Theology Department’s intensive care room, the insane cigarette collector, the
nightmare behind the tree, the bearded giant… A man with handsome features
(according to Isabel’s perspective)…
As Ecdysis, gradually approaching the dreadful truth each time she collected rumors
about the ‘gardener,’ observed Ivan from the bushes.
Writing notes while looking at someone from the Department of Magic, the
appearance of the creature hanging from a tree.
“Stalker…”
She had become a stalker stalking the Academy’s stalker.
***
Author’s Note:
Note: The author is an alumnus of the Arts University, and music students do indeed
cause noise with ensemble practices and vocal exercises in the real club rooms.
Ivan didn’t care much about the go-stop sign. He knew that this attitude would
actually lead to better results.
The university is essentially an open space. As long as one doesn’t enter the
classrooms, anyone can come and go without restriction.
Moreover, students are indifferent to others. Like most people, they don’t pay
attention to the movements of the ‘staff.’
For students, the staff is just a disappearing presence on the periphery of their
vision.
Therefore, Ivan understood that walking casually in ordinary attire was more helpful
for security than attempting to conceal.
However, there was a problem. If someone started paying attention to him, all the
security strategies he had built up so far would collapse.
And at this moment, there was a student focusing on Ivan’s every move.
“What is he doing?” (Ecdysis)
Ivan frowned at the persistent gaze following him.
Why is he acting like that?
Pretending to tie his shoelaces, he subtly turned his gaze backward.
Esisdis was glaring at him with blazing eyes.
“Is that… camouflage?” (Ecdysis)
Holding a tree branch covered with many leaves to hide her face, she walked
stealthily through the bushes.
People from Drovian are large in stature. In the case of males, they are robust, and in
females, they are giant in a slightly different sense.
Ecdysis, inheriting the finest lineage of Drovian, had destructive body parts despite
her cute animal-like appearance.
Therefore, the tree branch was useless for covering her towering height and
something even larger.
Ivan looked at her for a moment as if pitying her, then took out a note.
-Ecdysis. Suspect of academic misconduct. Significant lack of cognitive abilities.
Ivan was an honest person, so he had no hesitation in recording the truth. He

covered the note and continued walking.
He headed towards the Department of Knightology. The familiar incantations

stimulated his senses.
The Intelligence Headquarters was calling him.
***
Ecdysis moved cautiously amid the tension that made her lips dry.
Her concealment was perfect. None of her uncles noticed her when she walked in
stealth. (Huscals are lenient about their niece’s pranks.)
So, with confidence, she was stealing glances at Ivan.
He was an eccentric person.
Sometimes, he would suddenly disappear from sight, surprising anyone who was
watching, only to find him climbing a tree and surveying the surroundings.
From the Department of Magic to the Department of Knightology, and astonishingly,

even the Department of Philosophy. Ivan was constantly on the move, watching
someone.
Suddenly frowning, he would run ghost-like, or throw himself through the bushes
where cigarette smoke rose.
Entering the department building, he strides as if to go but disappears like a ghost!
-“Gardener?”
-Never seen cultivating the garden.
-Is there a place on campus that could be called a garden?
-I don’t know… What is he doing? Continuously monitoring someone.
-Without rest. Why? Did he receive someone’s task? Or is it a hobby?
She scribbled notes in her notebook, engulfed in confusion.
That diligent stalker relentlessly roamed the campus, not resting or eating,
constantly wandering through the corridors…!
What on earth made that man like this?
At this point, curiosity prevailed over fear. Ecdysis was searching for Ivan while
nibbling on her sandwich.
He vanished from sight again. Just as it seemed he was walking toward the
Department of Knightology, he disappeared like smoke when turning a corner.
“Hmm, where did he go?”
She wiped off the mustard sauce on her lips and walked briskly.
***
“For some reason, Ecdysis is trying to monitor me.”
But that’s impossible. Even though it’s a bit annoying, I haven’t become dull enough
to be caught by such a rookie.
Ivan walked down the corridor with a ‘perception obstruction’ spell in place.
“Dmitri.”
“How have you been, senior?”
Not a single student was wandering the department corridor. It was due to the
‘perception obstruction’ spell from the Intelligence Headquarters.
In the middle of the corridor, Dmitri, holding a yellow envelope, was looking out the
window.
“You appeared right after the spell was cast. Senior, as always, you’re truly amazing.”
“What’s going on at the university, Dmitri?”
“Well, there’s something to ask and something to report. While it’s like that… um,
yes.”
Dmitri took out a document file and handed it over.
“We caught the culprit of the freshman induction bomb threat.”
“Then isn’t it a matter of resolving it?”
“There’s a bit of an issue.”
The Krasilov Intelligence Headquarters is competent. In fact, among all the

administrative bodies in Krasylov, the Intelligence Headquarters is the most
competent.
Fundamentally, Krasilov, no. In this backward pre-modern society, corruption was

rampant. A public official not taking bribes is impossible like a unicorn or dragon.
(They do exist, to be clear.)
Even in such a context, the Intelligence Headquarters was remarkably clean. It was
inevitable with Princess Elizaveta as the leader.
Therefore, if the Intelligence Headquarters traced the terrorists, it’s strange for this
matter to reach Ivan.
Ivan frowned as he opened the document envelope.

“Drovian…?”
“Yes, Drovian.”
Drovian, the land of warriors. Einar’s homeland.
Did Drovian, a land known for its warriors, orchestrate a bomb threat in Krasilov?
Ivan flipped through the documents lost in thought.
“When we examined the magic bomb used at that time, most of the parts were traced
back to Drovian.”
“Drovian orchestrating a magic bomb terrorist attack? Does that make sense?”
“Logically, it’s impossible, of course.”
“Well…”
The warriors of Drovian were known to reap enemy skulls with axes instead of using
bombs.
Therefore, thinking inversely, they might be the least suspected when a bomb threat
happened.
But the ‘common sense’ of the Intelligence Headquarters was supposed to be the
opposite of civilian common sense.
If there were individuals whom no one suspected, then inversely, those individuals
should be the most suspicious.
“So, we dug deeper. Please read from page 11.”
“…It seems Einar didn’t finish the job properly.”
“Yes. Not very king-like, is he? Showing mercy to enemies.”
Until Einar returned to his homeland after the death of the Demon King, Drovian was
not a unified nation.
It was a time of chaos with numerous warlords called ‘Yas’ across the country. Now
that the threat of the Demon King had disappeared, they were running rampant like
unleashed colts.
In such a time, Einar established a nation with two axes. That’s why he was called
the ‘Great King.’
Einar brought peace to his homeland and brought unity as a single ethnicity.
That’s how it was known.
“One of the Yas who submitted to Einar is one of the culprits. Did this information
reach Einar?”
“The Minister is currently considering it. If Einar finds out about this…”
“The war drums will beat.”
“Yes, and given the situation with the border, we will be inevitably affected. And, as
you know… the whereabouts of Crown Prince Alexander are uncertain. The military
trends are also suspicious.”
After flipping through the document file, Ivan infused magic into the rune left on the
last page and brushed off his hands.
The confidential documents instantly burst into flames and turned into ashes,
scattering.
“The culprits behind the terror are known, but the ones preparing for the attack are
elusive. However, their target is clear…”
“Ecdysis.”
“Yes, the daughter Einar the Great values the most. If anything happens to her, King
Einar will immediately erupt into war. The responsibility will be directed to Her
Royal Highness the Princess, as she is the head of the Intelligence Headquarters.”
“Then the military will support the Crown Prince.”
For the military to survive, war is necessary. Conversely, in a nation without the
threat of war, downsizing the military becomes inevitable.
Only four years have passed since the Demon War. The nation is being rebuilt, and
the palace is allocating resources to maintain legions rather than reconstruction
costs.
Therefore, those currently most eager for war are the military.
And the Crown Prince, who wants to undermine the palace and discredit Princess
Elizaveta.
“The terrorists will undoubtedly target Ecdysis again. Senior.”
“Convey that to Her Royal Highness.”
Ivan glanced at the empty corridor and turned away.
“I will do what needs to be done.”
“Thank you for your dedication, ‘Little’ Ivan.”
“For what.”
Ivan shook his head briefly and left. After watching his back, Dmitri dusted off his
hands.
The ‘perception obstruction’ rune at the end of the corridor fizzled out, and students
began entering the corridor again.
In the corridor, where students returned, there was no trace of Dmitri.
***
Ivan, being a highly logical person, devised a plan with a simple logic.
1. Someone is targeting Ecdysis.
2. For some reason, Ecdysis is attempting to monitor Ivan.
Combining information that the security target is in danger and that the security
target is tracking himself led to a straightforward solution.
He needs to stay in the line of sight to make it easier for Ecdysis to monitor him.
In this grateful situation where the surveillance and security target is voluntarily
following, there was no reason for him to hide. Just remaining visible allowed Ivan to
keep Ecdysis within his sight.
Simultaneously, lurking around Ecdysis would inevitably lead him to the ‘unknown
terrorists.’
As he had reflected earlier, well-trained agents never move with only one target in
mind.
Setting up more than one prey for a single move.
That was the modus operandi of the Cleansup Unit.
***
“No. What the…?!”
Ecdysis, sipping her coffee, spilled some and stared blankly behind the trees.
“Essie, what’s wrong?”
“Uh, um. Uh, uh. Um… um… Is Bella, is Bella nearby?”
“No? Isabelle mentioned having lunch separately today due to classes… Why?”
“Then… then… me…?”
Looking at the gardener behind the trees, Ecdysis made a face as if she was about to
cry.
“Am I the target…?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“No, no. Nothing at all… Yuri, I’ll get up first. Sorry.”

“No, I also have to go for the next class. See you tomorrow!”
“Yes, yes.”
Ecdysis walked unsteadily. Standing at the entrance of the Department of Orchestra,

she turned back with a trembling gaze.
“…!”
Exactly the same distance as before, beyond the trees.
‘He’ was staring at her.
Ecdysis suddenly felt like crying.

“Oh, Miss Einardottir. Did you get a new violin?”
“Ah, yes…”
“Wow! This is a Stradivarius line, isn’t it?! Such an expensive one… No, wasn’t your
last violin like that too?”
“Yes… My uncle gave it to me.
“I’m so envious!”
More than envy, there’s a gaze filled with resentment and disdain.
It was a familiar and poignant gaze for Ecdysis.
The days when she, sacrificing herself, blocked the entry of knightly freshmen to the
Knight Department, seem to be forgotten, an attitude as if it never happened.
In the Department of Music, Ecdysis always received such treatment.
Perhaps it was natural. Drovian was a powerful kingdom in the United Kingdoms,
but not a country that had secured its place through culture and the arts.
Primitive and strong barbarians. That was the kind of evaluation the country
received.
Despite that, Ecdysis entered the Department of Music, lacking any remarkable
talent.
The instruments she carried were always top-notch, and even those were easily
broken.
Her surroundings were not favorable, and the ‘uncle’ monster who came in as a
freshman constantly sought her out.
Ecdysis was always a beloved girl. Being the daughter of a king, and a formidable
force known across the continent, she was admired by many.
Yet, this environment was too harsh for her.
“Ugh… Ugh… Sob…”
In the next class, she sat alone in the practice room, sobbing.
Since no one had informed her of the changed class schedule, she trembled and
sobbed alone.
The hand that had pulled the bowstring on the violin a few times dropped weakly.
“Father… Uncle…”
She tightly held the violin, sniffling, then placed it in the case with trembling hands.
It was a moment she wanted to give up.
In fact, every moment had been like that. Every moment of playing the violin.
To the citizens of Drovian, the violin was a strange foreign instrument. Moreover, to
find a proper one, it was absurdly expensive, and the fragile instrument easily broke
on such subjects.
Drovian was a dry place. Even a brief exposure to the outside wind would warp the
plates and body, ending the instrument’s lifespan.
Even tuning it every day made no difference. String instruments inherently required
delicate care from an experienced person.
The Huscals considered the princess indulging in luxury, and the teachers brought in
were no more than inexperienced fools, not even close to skilled musicians or poets.
Because of that, she struggled to obtain sheet music and self-studied for a long time.
Afterward, when she successfully entered a prestigious global music school, the Saint
Jan’s University Music Department, oh, how delighted she was.
“…Hooray.”
Ecdysis gently patted the bag on her shoulder.
Throughout her life, she had always wanted to give up. It seemed not bad to quietly
live the life of a princess, letting everything go.
But living as the king’s daughter meant being exhibited as a preserved, expensive
item.
Weaving for better market value, singing for a beautiful tone, occasionally practicing
martial arts.
The result was marrying the most suitable warrior to continue the royal bloodline.
That must have been her destiny.
She didn’t want to live like that.
She wanted to learn an instrument. She wanted to learn music. Especially, the violin.
That desire began ten years ago, from a conversation around a bonfire.
It started from a story she heard from a man whose face is now blurry.
Einar was a logical man. Even though it was Drovian’s logic, he was an excellent
father who employed rational thinking.
Therefore, he took all his children to the battlefield. There were various reasons for
this.
Firstly, if they were his children, they had to directly experience the air of the
battlefield.
Secondly, the rumors about Drovian’s warriors were unbelievable.
The latter reason was more important. Einar was a great warrior, and even at that
time, he was already a man who had no equal within Drovian.
If he safely finished the war and returned home, there was ample potential for any of
the warriors to target his daughters as trophies.
So, Ecdysis understood the war.
And she knew about the Hero Party of those times.
She always remembered the sight of heroes returning injured. Limbs broken,
sometimes losing parts of limbs, returning battered.
Wiping blood, wrapping bandages over wounds, sitting tired by the bonfire, sharing
drinks.
During those times, she always asked such a question to the man who was always the
most injured outside the party.
“Why doesn’t Uncle run away?”
“Hmm?”
He was a man at least ten years younger than her father, still much older than her.
Except for the saint, he was the youngest among the members of this party, so
Ecdysis often talked to this gruff man.
The man looked at the bonfire for a moment and then faintly smiled, saying,
“There’s nowhere to run. The world is turning into hell.”
“Still, isn’t it better than going to fight? Where you never know when you’ll die, every
time.”
“You don’t need any early education on this one.”
This man sometimes used terms that were hard to understand. Because it looked
sophisticated, Ecdysis secretly admired him.
Children tend to think difficult words are cool.
“Ecdysis, the reason your father and I wield axes, Maximilian and Jill Ber carry
swords, the saint somehow preserves our lives, and Enrique risks her life infiltrating
enemy lines—all for one reason.”
“What’s that?”
“We hope we’re the last.”
The man held his axe by the bonfire, teeth dangerously exposed, almost ready to
break.
“To live a life where we have to kill an enemy every day to survive. We hope that kind
of life ends with us. For you, your siblings, many children behind us. And we hope
those children’s children will hold plows, not weapons.”
The war must not last any longer. The United Kingdom’s structure couldn’t endure
further wars.
No war should surpass one generation. Even if they win beyond that, it wouldn’t be a
true victory.
Their generation is the last limit where life can exist for people and the country can
still function as a nation.
With that meaning, the man quietly lowered his axe.
“So, don’t become like your father.”
“Well… um. Then what should I do? I’m, uh… good at handling axes!”
“I see. You’ll surprise us when you grow a bit more. Still, if possible, try holding
something other than an axe.”
“I’m not very good at sewing…”
“You don’t necessarily have to sew. Hmm.”
The man looked at Ecdysis with a puzzled expression. Due to his lack of eloquence,
he wasn’t confident in providing appropriate guidance for this little one.
He stroked his chin for a moment before saying,
“If you have to hold something, it’s better to choose a musical instrument.”
“A musical instrument?”
“Weapons kill people, but music can save lives.”
Transcending borders, culture, and language. Excellent music itself becomes a bridge
connecting people to people.
If the era of peace arrives, one of the most needed things will be musical
instruments.
Ecdysis stared blankly at the man. Charcoal-colored hair, intensely blue eyes, and a
composed expression as he gazed at the bonfire.
The determined man was someone the young girl admired.
“Uncle, what’s your favorite musical instrument?”
“Well, I don’t really know much about instruments in this world.”
He awkwardly stroked his chin. It was a habit when lost in thought.
Ah, but there seemed to be one common instrument. The man chuckled as he
thought. Due to spending a decade on the battlefield due to conscription, he hadn’t
encountered instruments frequently.
Perhaps it was the instrument he saw when our great king held a celebration. It was
a similar instrument with the same name in this world.
“Was it a violin…?”
“A violin?”
“Yes.”
Ecdysis repeated that name several times, committing it to memory.
Ten years passed since then. In that time, she transformed from the daughter of a
great warrior to the daughter of a great king.
The world had entered an era where our great king no longer needed to rule the
kingdom with an axe. It became an era where eloquence was more necessary than a
weapon, diplomacy more than eloquence, and gold.
As Uncle said, a world no longer in need of weapons had arrived.
Ecdysis took up the violin, persevering despite her parents’ concerns and the
criticisms of other uncles. Gripping the fingerboard until her hand bruised, pulling
the bow until her wrist strained.
In memory of the uncle who eventually perished in war, she aimed to visit someday
and leave the most perfect memorial composition.
She heard that the uncle’s remains were interred in the Krassilov National Cemetery
of Frechanka.
And in Krasilov, there was the continent’s top prestigious music university.
Her enrollment in the Saint Jan’s University was nothing short of destiny.
So, she will never give up. Never, ever.
***
Ecdysis wiped her tears clean, stood up, and left the orchestral department building.
Today’s class counted as an unauthorized absence, but she had enough space to
practice at home.
She will never give up.
“Instruments are a bridge connecting people…”
Never.
***
“Mord.” (Ivan)
“What?” (Mord)
“You can leave now.” (Ivan)
“…What?” (Mord)
Ivan looked quietly at the numerous torn clothes that Mord had ruined.
“During your volunteer work at my orphanage, the financial losses of the orphanage
have significantly increased.”
“…Ugh…!”
“Do you know that tearing clothes while washing them doesn’t mean washing but
rather destroying them?”
“Ugh…”
Mord bit his lips and avoided Ivan’s gaze.
But he had something to say in response.
“I… I’ve never done laundry in my life!”
“Even someone who has never done laundry in their life could probably manage to
wash children’s underwear in two months.”
“Ugh…!!”
Ignoring the wounded Mord, Ivan moved on.
The plan to hold Mord and monitor the movements of Drovian’s dispatched spies to
understand their intentions was canceled.
As long as there was information about someone among the “spies dispatched by
Drovian” targeting Ecdysis’s life, there was no reason to keep Mord in custody.
Mord was a foolish guy, but at least he genuinely cared about Ecdysis. He was one of
King Einar’s loyal subjects.
For Ecdysis’s safety, Mord had to fulfill his role again. He didn’t enroll in the
university just to attend classes in the Knight Department.
His role was to guard Ecdysis.
“And if Mord is by Ecdysis’s side, someone will surely contact him.”

As long as Mord is guarding her, Ecdysis’s safety is assured. If someone from Drovian
tries to contact Mord to separate him from Ecdysis, he’ll trace that contact and
eliminate the source.
Ivan stared at the middle-aged man leaving the orphanage with a sad expression for
a while before turning his head.
The sword scatters moonlight as it descends, firmly planted with powerful force and
an impeccable stance.
“Excellent,” Ivan nodded, deflecting the axe and grasping the blade.
-Clang!
The axe blade, caught at the end, swayed off course and clattered. Ivan raised the
embedded blade from the ground, assessing the situation.
“How did that go?” (Isabelle)
“Quite well, actually.” (Ivan)
“Haha, see? I told you I pick up things quickly, right?” (Isabelle)
“Absolutely.” (Ivan)
Ivan nodded and threw the sword.
Isabelle effortlessly caught the spinning sword mid-air and smiled.
“How would you rate it, uncle? Compared to my father at my age.” (Isabelle)
“If we compare it to Maximilian, anyone from the continent falls short.” (Ivan)
Ivan chuckled at Isabelle’s bold statement.
Approaching Isabelle, who was grumbling with puffed cheeks, he hung a towel on
her sweaty neck and gently pressed her head.
“Don’t get lost in the shadows of those who walked before you.” (Ivan)
“Oh, what a nice saying! Did you come up with that, uncle?” (Isabelle)
“No, Enrique said it.” (Ivan)
Words spoken to the ‘Little’ Ivan, who was once immersed in the shadow of the Sun
King.
Admiring someone is natural. The world is vast, and there are many outstanding
individuals.
But trying to imitate them one by one ends in mere awkward imitation.
Enrique told Ivan, and now Ivan told Isabelle.
Don’t get lost in the shadows of those who walked before you; step on your own
path.
“Hmm. It’s a good saying, but somehow it doesn’t quite fit with Professor Enrique’s
image!” (Isabelle)
“In those days, Enrique was a serious person.” (Ivan)
“What about you, uncle? Did you only say things like ‘Hmm,’ ‘Indeed,’ ‘No,’ ‘Busy’ back
then?” (Isabelle)
“Well…”
Back in those days.
Ivan stroked his chin for a moment, lost in thought.
“Not much different.”
“Boring! Ugh, really. Did your sense die in the war together? What on earth is living
in your heart, uncle? Let me guess. Axes, healing potions?”
“Nonsense.”
Ivan chuckled, tousling Isabelle’s hair once before getting up.
After the practical terrorism incident, Ivan had been holding Isabelle and conducting
daily training sessions every night.
The mentor-student relationship needed further examination. Strictly speaking, it
was Isabelle who had grabbed Ivan and requested the training.
It was what they called the ‘Realm of the Superhuman,’ a special training to reach
that level.
“Now, let’s move on to the next step. Quickly, quickly.” (Ivan)
“Sure.” (Isabelle)
Isabelle sat cross-legged on the grass, quietly breathing out. “Quickly, put your hands
on me,” she said.
“At this point, there’s no need for that,” Ivan replied.
“Oh, come on. I’m not used to it yet,” Isabelle insisted.
The Realm of the Superhuman began with channeling magic to strengthen the
nervous system, cultivating the sensation of projecting magic into various parts of
the body. Initially, Ivan helped her examine the magic flow by placing his hand on her
back, infusing magic to guide her.
“Hmm…” (Isabelle)
“Close your mouth and focus on the sensation.” (Ivan)
“But it’s warm… you know…”
Despite Ivan’s magic infusion, Isabelle sighed softly.
“Despite Yuri and Essi being busy lately, I lack friends to unwind with…”
“This isn’t leisure time.”
“But it is, isn’t it? Relaxation time.”
Isabelle narrowed her eyes and glanced up at Ivan, assessing him mischievously.
“So, uncle, you’re not working right now?”

“I’m training you.”
“That’s just an excuse, isn’t it? You simply want to take a break. Lately, it feels like
what we’re doing is more like play.”
“Perhaps we should reassess the intensity of our training.”
Ivan was somewhat taken aback, questioning if his strict upbringing was being
undermined.
Observing his reaction, Isabelle sighed, giving him a look as if she were seeing
something pitiful. She stretched and stood up.
“Never mind,” she said, “I’ve learned my lesson.”
“Hmm.”
“Oh, right. Uncle, you’re still doing secret agent work, aren’t you? I heard some
strange talk recently.”
“Strange talk?”
“Yes! That thing you never tell. Sir Diane said he saw a strange guy in front of our
house a few days ago.”
“A strange guy?”
“Yes! He was staring at our house from behind the wall for a while, so I followed him
to see what he was up to, but he got away.”
Ivan furrowed his brow at her words.
Diane August, the bodyguard assigned to her by the Tyless royal family.
Losing someone slipping away right in front of him… it’s not something anticipated
from someone at the level of a student or civilian.
“They’re not your colleagues, right?”
“No.”
The Intelligence Headquarters doesn’t operate that way.
“I’ll look into it. Don’t worry about it.”
“But… If there’s someone watching my house, should I not worry?”
“That’s my concern. Students should focus on their studies.”
“Uh…”
Sometimes, it just comes out like this.
Isabelle stared at Ivan’s back as he walked away for a while, then sighed heavily.
It’s not easy. Really.
She smirked and tightly clutched the towel around her neck.
Isabelle is being watched by someone.
Certainly not the work of the Intelligence Headquarters. They don’t operate in that
manner, and Isabelle, along with the party of warriors, falls within Ivan’s jurisdiction.
Dmitri never does anything to disturb him.
Ivan walked the streets lost in thought.
-Someone, or some group, is monitoring the party of warriors.
-One of Drovian’s five spies attempted a bomb attack on the academy.
What could be the connection between these two events? The latter case was
undoubtedly an attempt on Ecdysis’s life.
If Ecdysis were to die or be harmed, King Einar would take action.
And Einar and his brothers have the most powerful forces currently on the mainland
of Drovian. If they move, Drovian is as good as empty.
One of the spies is aiming for that. It’s probably a plot to overthrow the kingdom in
Einar’s absence.
‘Is Isabelle involved in this?’
It could be an overreaction. It might be entirely unrelated, separate incidents.
But Ivan had a nagging feeling about something. And his instincts were honed over
more than 20 years in the midst of war.
‘As long as Mord is there, Ecdysis is safe at night.’
Mord graduated from volunteering at the orphanage and returned as Ecdysis’s

personal bodyguard.
As long as he’s there, even if an unforeseen situation arises, there’s plenty of time to
wait until Ivan arrives.
Therefore, he was keeping an uneasy eye on the situation after sunset.
‘During the day, watch over Ecdysis, and at night, keep an eye on Isabelle.’
Ivan organized his schedule and headed to his office.
He never thought it would be easy from the start. Finding a culprit that the
Intelligence Headquarters couldn’t catch in two months is a challenging task.
While the Intelligence Headquarters may not be entirely focused on this case,
investigating something the national institution couldn’t handle is not an easy task
for an individual.
But as always.
Can you do it, or can’t you? That question is not important.
To the Cleansup Unit, there was only one proposition.
Should you do it or not?
If you should, there is no hesitation. Just do it.

Ivan dismantled one by one the booby traps hanging in his office and returned to his
seat, turning on the magical lamps.
Late into the night, the sound of organizing reports and managing accounts
continued in the office.
***
Ecdysis crossed the courtyard toward the bench.
The bench next to the Knight Department’s outdoor training area was the hideout
for Ecdysis, Isabelle, and Yuri, where they always had lunch together.
Today was tiring as well. The classes were challenging, the peers were indifferent,
and the world was harsh.
Ecdysis approached the bench with her lunch bag tightly clutched and froze.
“Oh, Essi! You came a bit early today!” (Isabelle)
“Uh, what…? What’s…? What’s happening now…? I mean…?” (Ecdysis)
“Oh, say hello! We decided to have lunch together from today. Haven’t you met him?
It’s Uncle Ivan!” (Isabelle)
Isabelle laughed energetically, patting ‘him’ on the back.
“Anyway, it’s really hard to have a meal together, but when I suggested it today, he
suddenly agreed. Thanks for your precious steps here…” (Isabelle)
Isabelle chattered away in an elevated mood. Ecdysis couldn’t hear her voice at all.
She stared blankly at Ivan, then turned her gaze to Yuri sitting next to him.
– What’s going on? (Ecdysis)
-I’ve been wondering that myself. (Yuri)
Isn’t a stalker someone who lurks from a distance, expressing some passive yet
malicious desire? Why is he being so bold…?
She cautiously sat on the bench, took out her lunchbox, and then, glancing at Ivan
quietly taking out his lunchbox next to Isabelle, she sent a glance to Yuri.
Bella likes him so much, does she know he was trying to flirt with another girl?
And the flirting method is stalking…? Seriously, this is the worst.
For a while, Ivan, who had been under Ecdysis’s gaze, suddenly looked up.
When their gazes met for a moment, around the time Ecdysis became uneasy and
lowered her gaze.
“…?”
Something popped up on top of her lunchbox, contaminating her precious chicken

sandwich.
“What is this…? What, what is it?” (Ecdysis)
“Vegetables.” (Ivan)
Ivan took the lunchbox and explained to Isabelle and Yuri, offering them different
diets.
“Normally, you only eat carbohydrates and proteins… bread and meat. It’s a dietary
habit where the nutritional balance is easily disrupted. Include vegetables, fruits,
and nuts in your diet.”
Ivan, being a delicate and considerate person, explained in a way that even children
in the pre-modern society could easily understand.
He runs an orphanage. And an orphanage, literally, is a place where children who

have lost their parents are taken care of, taught, and raised.
Planning meals, managing schedules for rest and study, maximizing a child’s talents,
hobbies, and qualities was Ivan’s ‘main job.’
Feeling a certain kind of pride, Ivan also shared his lunch with Yuri and Isabel.
“Wow, awesome! Thank you, uncle! If I had known, I would have prepared something
too. I’m really good at cooking. By any chance, what do you think about a girl who
cooks well?” (Isabelle)
“I think she’s good at cooking.”
“I really want to kill him…”
While Isabelle chattered energetically, Ecdysis looked at Ivan with eyes filled with
horror.
‘He was even monitoring the menu I eat every day…?’

Contrary to many people’s misconceptions, Ivan is an extremely practical person.
Just as terrorism at the academy’s entrance ceremony is considered common sense.

This world was filled with people who lacked common sense and doubted such
common sense, like uncivilized pre-modern citizens.
However, Ivan does not blame them. It’s because he is a cultured modern individual
with an open mind.
Instead, he grabs an axe and a pistol.
Most of the time, actions are more helpful in resolving situations than persuasion.
This was the catalyst for Ivan getting involved in the Frechenkaya bombing incident.
The incident begins with the usual tailing of Ecdysis.
As always, Ivan was following Ecdysis. The tailing was perfect, the target would be
safe, and there were no other threats around. It was just another ordinary day.
“Hmm…”
She eats cookies often. Ivan decided to seize the opportunity to explain the problems
generally associated with fat, carbohydrates, and sugar found in chocolate cookies.
Ecdysis still had excess fat in certain areas. While it might not pose an issue for a
musician, if she ever needed to wield a weapon in the future, it could be a significant
disadvantage.
Let’s prepare some dried carrot chips as a snack replacement. Ivan nodded and
followed Ecdysis.
After a while, Ivan suddenly felt a gaze and turned his head.
“What are you doing, uncle?”

“Work.”
Isabelle, who was staring at him with a very stern look, appeared.
She slowly turned her eyes and frowned upon seeing Ecdysis in the far distance in
front of Ivan.
For some reason, something unpleasant seemed to have happened. But there was no
need to worry.
Ivan runs an orphanage. It means he has the skill to soothe a child whose judgment
has been distorted for some inexplicable reason. Besides, he has never done
anything to upset Isabel.
“Why are you looking at Essi?”
“…What?”
“Essi. You’re stalking on her, aren’t you?”
“It’s a misunderstanding.”
He wasn’t stalking. He’s doing his job, and he’s doing it proudly.
Your passage is clear, but here’s a refined version for smoother flow:
“The only thing he didn’t expect was to see Isabelle, who was supposed to be in class
right now, on campus.
“Class?”
“I saw you outside the window… No, I mean, is my class important right now?”
“…? Of course, it is. I don’t want you to miss class.”
If she were a regular student, he wouldn’t have forced her into the classroom. Did
Isabelle forget that her home country was paying for her entire education?
Ivan clicked his tongue.

Ivan said with a sigh, “If you’re not a full scholarship student, you should focus on
your classes. Jan’s University is an expensive school.”
“Well… Ugh! That may be true! No, why do you keep changing the subject?! Why
were you spying on Essi?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“What…?!”
Isabelle wore a deeply hurt expression. It was incomprehensible. Why would she be
hurt by advice to focus on her studies rather than paying attention to his security
duties?
However, Ivan, being a kind person, knew how to comfort a teenager going through
confusion (not puberty).
For a teenager facing inexplicable problems, the most necessary thing is some alone
time. (Of course not.)
As a considerate adult, Ivan nodded and stepped back, deciding not to lecture her
about returning to class.
“No, where are you going? Explain, at least explain! Make an excuse or something!
Ugh!!”
Leaving the panicked Isabelle behind, Ivan quickly escaped. Isabel, still in shock,
stared blankly at his retreating figure, then sighed in disappointment.
“Where should I tie him up? Maybe I need to tie him up and teach him how to talk to
people…”
Seeing him by the window during class, she slipped out and found him quietly
following Ecdysis, jotting something in a notebook.
Considering his personality, he might be doing something, but still.
But still…!
“I’m boldly approaching, and he’s following my friend…?”

Isabelle chuckled, then rinsed her face a few times.
Okay.
A goal has been set.
“The realm of superhuman? Yeah. Does that mean I have to enter that realm to barely
contend with that lunatic and beat him somehow?
As quickly as possible, step into that realm, rise to the level where I can defeat that
man.
Capture and neutralize him, tie him up. Slowly. Thoroughly. I’ll have to teach him the
basics of common sense step by step.
Volunteer work. Yeah, with the heart of doing volunteer work. If I don’t, who else will
rescue that poor elderly person (not really)?
***
Ecdysis was once again wandering, unable to find the rehearsal room today.
The orchestral rehearsal, which included group performance evaluations, was her
most dreadful class. No one willingly included her in their group.
So, she walked sadly, muttering to herself.
“The rehearsal room lacking one member is Room 154.”
“…?!”
Suddenly, Ivan popped up next to her.
“Huk?!”
“Your class is [Ensemble Practice 1]. Isn’t it getting precarious with more absences?”
“How, how did you…?”
“Now is not the time to worry about that.”

Ivan pulled out a mysterious notebook from his pocket and spoke quietly.
“Midterm results: Ensemble Practice D, Chamber Music C, Vocal and Aural Training
B+, Chamber Music C, String Ensemble D, Harmony and Counterpoint B+. Generally,
theory evaluations seem better than practical ones. But having an average grade in
the mid-2 range is a problem.”
“Oh, ah…”
“Why did you apply to the music school?”
Ivan looked at Ecdysis with a stern gaze.
Because she never imagined hearing such words from the man she thought was just
a stalker, Ecdysis swallowed nervously and lowered her head.
Why? Well, because she wanted to.
Not with weapons, but with musical instruments.
Ecdysis chose her words carefully, fidgeting with her fingertips.
“Instruments, instruments are… they connect people like a bridge.”
“Excellent.”
Ivan grinned.
Surprised by the unexpected laughter, Ecdysis’s eyes widened.
She stared blankly into Ivan’s face, then gasped in surprise.
That low, husky voice. And those softly curving, stern eyes.
Familiar, so familiar.
She lifted her hand involuntarily. Palm open, slowly.
Covering the rugged, attention-grabbing beard with her palm, leaving only the
bridge of the nose and the eyes visible, she peeked.
In that moment, Ecdysis’s trembling eyes and Ivan’s deep gaze intersected.
“No way…? No, but. My uncle is dead…”
“Take care of your health.”
Efficient as he was, Ivan didn’t waste time entertaining Ecdysis’s speculations. What
this kid was thinking was a secondary concern. There were more important matters
at hand.
Even if it meant preventing more absences to salvage her dismal grades.
Leading Ecdysis to the rehearsal room of the Music Department, Ivan, still with a
vacant expression, handed her a lunchbox.
It contained a snack box with dried carrot chips.
“Take care of your health. Einar is more concerned about your health than your
studies. But that doesn’t mean a student should skip classes. It’s late. Go in.”
Ivan pushed the still dazed Ecdysis into the string ensemble rehearsal room and
checked his watch.
By the time the ensemble class would end, Mord’s lecture would also conclude. Then,
there would be no need to guard Ecdysis any longer.
It was going to get busy.
Ivan chuckled and moved on. Now, after guarding Isabelle at night, he could finally
finish work.
It was just another ordinary day.
A day like any other, the third day in a row.
Guarding Ecdysis during the day, patrolling near Isabelle’s house at night – the
peaceful routine of a security guard.
But on this day, the Frechenkaya Central Bank, the Satera Circular Theater, Jan’s
University, the Cathedral of Saint Cherehta, and the North-Prachenko Central Police
Station all exploded dramatically at the same hour.
That night, the city burned bright white.
***
Ivan walked slowly, conscious of the gun in his arms.
For three nights, he had been patrolling in front of Isabelle’s house.
“Hmm.”
When he circled her house for the third time, he noticed encountering a passerby for
the third time.
At roughly the same distance from Isabelle’s house, each time from different points.
‘Center of gravity leans to the right. Right-handed, armed with a gun on the left hip,
judging by the bulging chest, it seems a bulletproof plate is inserted.’
Ivan casually passed by the passerby, turning his gaze.
‘Inserted a bulletproof plate, meaning no line-of-sight detection. This guy is on the

ground.’
The suspicious man scanned the surroundings, then disappeared into the darkness
of the distance.
Slowly concentrating, Ivan closed his eyes quietly.
Chasing a highly vigilant target from directly behind is beneath him. A trained agent
never pursues in such a manner.
Magic coursed through Ivan’s body. Slowly, with a sensation that wrapped around his
nervous system like a chain.
When he opened his eyes again, he had taken a step into the slow-motion sensation
of falling leaves.
-Ssuee…
Slowly, deeply inhaling, the activated senses began to break down the scent in the air.
It is said that mice can perceive all the animals on a mountain slope through the
wind rustling among the leaves. The sense of smell that usually belongs to animals. It
surpasses the density of human olfactory epithelial cells.
But a superhuman can approach it infinitely closely. It’s the ability to forcibly activate
sensory organs and break down and understand each awakened nerve organ
beneath a coma.
Not all supernaturals can utilize this sense. This is not a talent but an area of
training. Most awakeners focus their training on combat abilities rather than using
their senses in this way.
But Ivan is different. He is more specialized in this field than any other
supernaturals.
Or, to be more precise.
He honed and polished his abilities in this direction more than any other
supernaturals.
-Huuu…
Exhaling the drawn breath slowly, Ivan moved on.
The urban breeze flowing through the city buildings carries numerous scents.
Extremely developed senses induce empathy. Ivan, now in the darkness, was
walking, gazing at the ‘scent trail’ shining vividly.
Slowly, without hurrying.
Straight towards the prey.
Within Frechenkaya, once a target is encountered more than once, it can never
escape his senses.
Ivan moved with firm steps.

Until the target crawls into his heart, patiently like a snake in the darkness.

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프롤로그에서 년이 흘렀다

I got s**ked into a game I’ve never seen before.

I thought it was a top-notch RPG and spent 30 years on it.

I retired as a war hero and planned to spend my remaining

But it turns out, it was an academy story?

Action Adventure Comedy Fantasy Harem Mystery School

Kim Sunwoo said in a pretty chill tone.

No flashy, high-tech blue screen or nothing.

Raggedy clothes and a beat-up ceiling? It’s all good, actually.

– Starting from a place like this?!

– Seriously, a total prodigy!

– I’m gonna score riches and status, just wait!

Kim Sunwoo laughed and got up from his spot.

4 years old. 15th week of transmigration.

8 years old. 4th year of transmigration.

Out of the blue, a demon king makes an appearance.

8 years old, in winter.

‘Ivan’s’ father is conscripted and leaves.

‘Ivan’s’ mother takes in foster children to make ends meet.

This is when Kim Sunwoo’s sense of self begins to shift.

10 years old. 6th year of transmigration.

12 years old. 8th year of transmigration.

14 years old. 10th year of transmigration.

News of his father’s death reaches the village.

18 years old. 14th year of transmigration. 4 years of military service.

22 years old. 18th year of transmigration. 8 years of military service.

At this point, Ivan finally understood the genre of this world.

It was a hero story, a real RPG.

28 years old. 24th year of transmigration. 14 years of military service.

The hero party managed to defeat the Demon King.

Ivan decided it was time to wait for the ending.

All he wanted now was an escape from this never-ending world.

32 years old. 28th year of transmigration.

Near the capital, he established an orphanage and welcomed war orphans.

It was a small act of kindness, considering his circumstances.

34 years old. 30th year of transmigration.

Yet, even now.

The ending credits were nowhere to be found.

“Damn it. Was this an academy setting?”

Typically, for an orphanage to become prosperous, it needed a few conditions. It had

By the way, St. Basilicia Orphanage met all of these conditions.

“Kids, throw some salt around.”

Ivan, walkin’ like he’s got weak knees, suddenly stops.

“There’s only one person.”

“Long time no see, senior!”

“Oh, when have we ever been that formal?”

High-quality paper, sealed with wax, and bearing a chrysanthemum-shaped seal.

“Wait, isn’t that sacrilege?”

“Why would Colonel Kirilovna want me to…?”

It wouldn’t be surprising if the letter was poisoned.

I hope there’s no poison in here…

“Dammit, just read it.”

[Vanka, how have you been?]

Ivan didn’t want to read it anymore. He swallowed hard.

At first, I thought I was fortunate, but that was a while ago.

[Sadly, I’m not doing well now.]

Ivan muttered without realizing it.

“Me? Back to the military? Why…?”