Chapter 36: Grit Theory, Sweet Cookies, and Horrific Crime (4)

Signs of destruction detected in the training hall. Soon after, security guards and the head of security come running urgently.

There had been suspiciously frequent attacks this year.

In this situation, not only had someone cut through those solid outer walls, but several students were sitting on the ground sobbing as if under some mental curse.

No wonder their faces had gone pale.

There was no way classes could continue in this situation.

The lecture was temporarily suspended under the pretext of gathering statements.

Professor Ryan explained the situation with a bewildered expression, and the security guard, not believing the story, was shocked at the possibility of a demon capable of manipulating even Professor Ryan's mind.

The conversation looked like it would continue for quite a while.

While the professor was busy explaining the situation, the students quietly made eye contact with each other.

As if they had made arrangements beforehand, the students moved to a spot out of Professor Ryan's line of sight. Soon, all the students in the class gathered in one place.

Most of their complexions were deathly pale.

Contrary to prejudice, swordsmanship talent included the intellect needed to understand its principles and subtleties.

Many had reached the same conclusion as Cain. Even those who failed to deduce it would have heard the story from others.

The terrible guilt weighing on them all.

Everyone was at a loss for words, stunned expressions on their faces, not knowing what to say in this situation, but

Once again, Cain broke the silence first.

There was something they absolutely had to find out.

"How serious is Professor Ryan's condition..."

The realm of the Heart-Sword, considered uncharted territory.

It was impossible to even imagine what hardships and trials Professor Ryan had endured to reach that state.

Yet such a person had declared they could no longer wield a sword. Had admitted they would never reach the ultimate state of martial arts they had pursued their whole life.

For a warrior of that caliber to give up everything and lay down their sword, the situation must be far more serious than they thought.

"I thought something was off for the past few days."

Sure enough, someone spoke up before long.

The girl reported the warning signs with a grave expression.

"Even when students greeted him cheerfully, or when a student he had helped before came to thank him, his face looked unusually dark."

A passionate professor who deeply cherished his students not only failed to smile at the students' goodwill but sighed instead.

The meaning of that was obvious.

The aftereffects were far more serious than expected.

It wasn't just about losing strength - it came with pain so severe that normal daily life was impossible.

For someone with an iron will like him to lose control of his expression and grimace - what kind of agony had he been enduring alone?

Just thinking about it makes one's heart sink.

Tears threatening to burst forth again at any moment.

The current situation alone was hard enough to accept, but reality was far too cruel. Before they could fully process their emotions, another horrific fact was thrust before them.

One student asked with a pale face.

"Remember that fox clan masseuse we drove away?"

For some reason, Ryan had called for a masseuse.

In the middle of class, he brazenly set up a sun bed, drank coffee, and got a massage from a professional while relaxing.

Everyone protested this behavior that defied common sense.

After all, due to the suddenly increased frequency of attacks, regulations on outsiders' access had become very strict.

When they threatened him with the regulations, the masseuse Ryan had secretly brought in fled in fear of punishment.

Even so, he had declared they couldn't take away his sun bed and coffee, and everyone was dumbfounded watching him lie there proudly sipping his drink, but.

"Was that masseuse really there just to give massages?"

Thinking back, something seemed off.

There's no way Professor Ryan would have called in a beastkin masseuse just for a simple massage.

The fox clan are beastkin famous for illusion magic.

While not specialized in healing, they excel at bewitching people to forget pain and suffering.

Would Professor Ryan have fallen for some sleazy advertisement like 'Experience paradise with soft and fluffy fox hands!'?

Or did he bring in an illusionist disguised as a masseuse to try to forget his incurable pain, even if just a little?

Which of these was the truth was all too obvious.

"...We pushed Professor into hell."

A genius illusionist disguised as an employee of the Fluffy Club. That fox must have been Professor Ryan's only hope for relief from the terrible pain.

But they, ungrateful as they were, had taken that hope away.

It hurts. I can't bear it with a clear mind.

The ones who had mercilessly driven away Professor Ryan when he was begging for even a moment's respite from this pain were none other than themselves.

Everyone's faces were stained with terrible guilt.

Many were from proud knight families.

There were those saying they no longer deserved to hold a sword and were giving up their dreams, and even students declaring they would atone with their lives if necessary.

While Cain felt similarly to them.

"That's the wrong way to atone."

He declared proudly before everyone who had fallen into despair.

He had to declare it proudly - there was no other way to endure.

"That's not taking responsibility - it's running away from it! Do you think Professor Ryan would be satisfied if we all committed ritual suicide?"

After all, a grave duty had been entrusted to him.

"Professor doesn't have much time left."

That much was clear just from looking at this lecture.

There was only one reason he had opened another lecture ignoring the academic schedule after saying he would reflect on his abuse of authority.

His condition is too critical to last until next semester.

He must have wanted to pass on his teachings before dying.

"But we can't lose him. Even if Professor has given up, we can't give up."

We're the only ones who know his situation.

So we have to take responsibility and save him.

If this gets out, demons will surely target Professor, so we must do this with our strength alone.

This was nothing less than their mission.

"...I understand how you feel. But if the aftereffects were treatable, he would have healed himself. Have you forgotten Professor Ryan is a mage?"

A natural objection came soon after.

But he had already considered that much.

"There is a way."

A genius mage who can unleash archmagic.

If even someone like that couldn't heal the injury, then surely no magic could treat the aftereffects.

Therefore, we use means that surpass magic.

"Artifacts. That's our only remaining solution."

The mysteries contained in artifacts.

The realm of miracles that defies logical understanding.

If we could obtain the right elixir from a dungeon, saving Professor Ryan wouldn't be impossible.

"...Of course, I know this is idealistic. The chances are infinitely close to zero, and the probability of everyone dying is much higher than the probability of saving Professor."

Whether it enhances magical power several times over, grants mysterious abilities, or extends life by hundreds of years.

The possibilities of artifacts are endless, but finding medicine that can heal Professor among them and stealing such a treasure from powerful demon beasts is nearly impossible.

Most likely everyone here will be annihilated.

But.

Even so.

"Come with me to save Professor Ryan."

Everyone nods gravely at Cain's words.

They knew there were moments when you had to challenge the impossible knowing you might die. The young knights understood this.

So there should have been no voices of dissent.

There certainly shouldn't have been any voices of dissent, and yet.

"Rushing headlong into death based on momentum. This foolishness is becoming a disease. You'll all die meaninglessly."

A voice comes from somewhere.

A student-sized figure. But a black-haired, pale-eyed girl not wearing a uniform approaches them.

"But I don't dislike such reckless courage."

The girl striking a pose.

She was certainly beautiful, but not a single student was admiring that beauty.

"Consider yourselves lucky, kids."

She called Cain and the students kids despite looking under 150cm herself.

A still trembling voice.

Eyes reddened as if she'd just been crying.

Tissue paper stuck to her face like a beard from wiping her nose.

It was impossible to feel awe even if they tried.

But completely ignoring such reactions, absorbed in herself, the girl shouted loudly to everyone.

"The Mercenary King Karin will join your journey!"

The snot-nosed savior had arrived.

******

I guess I'm destined to never get fired in my life.

I let out a sigh heavy enough to sink the ground as I wallow in self-pity.

My ambitiously prepared worst lecture was ruined by the protagonist choosing this timing to awaken. I tried to somehow salvage the situation but that failed too.

The persistent security chief hounding me.

In the end, instead of making excuses about aging walls cracking, I had to confess that my student had become a Swordmaster.

Master who produced a Swordmaster.

That title wasn't going to help me get fired.

I had failed yet again.

With a half-dead expression, I called for the students.

Since I had no energy left, I'd just make some announcements and end class. That was certainly my intention.

But something was strange.

No students responded to my call.

No matter where I looked, not a single person in sight.

As if the students, tired of my class, had run away without permission.

Color returns to my pale face. The world that had been all gray becomes filled with vibrant colors. My mouth corners soar upwards from the surge of happiness.

Forgetting all dignity in my excitement, I shouted.

"Yes, yesssss!"

...The world had finally taken my side.