Chapter 10 - These Orphans Need Their Director (3)

In the end, Ivan was the first to give in. Meaning he began cautiously divulging information.

After all, saving Priscilla, who was being held hostage, had to come first. (Not that hers was the only life at stake. Ivan wasn't confident he could beat Enrique.)

"... I hear you've been training a disciple." "Oh?"

Enrique tilted her head with a broad smile. Ivan's grip tightened momentarily around his axe handle before he forced himself to relax it. That was the expression this monster wore when she was displeased.

"Go on." "I hear she's enrolling at Jansk University this year." "Hmm... And?" "‘Someone’ is worried. It would be a great loss to the nation if she were to get hurt."

What Ivan meant was this:

'Elizaveta's worried about your disciple. She told me to protect her.' 'That's what I've been doing lately. Well, you know what Elizaveta's like.' 'But if you don't get what I'm saying... I'm going to assume you've sided with Alexander, all right?'

What Enrique heard, on the other hand, was this:

'I've already identified your disciple, her whereabouts, and her personal details.' 'I was paid handsomely.' 'It would be... tragic if she got hurt somewhere. So watch yourself.'

How dare he.

How dare he stab his revered great master in the back?

Whose contract had he taken? Alexander's? Was that son of a bitch finally trying to get rid of her?

No, this brat was just as bad. If someone had offered her a contract to kill him, she would have refused, or at least warned him!

But he showed up out of nowhere, threatened her, and then used her disciple as leverage?

And he still called himself her "disciple"...? What sort of monster had she raised?

If these were the only sort of disciples she had left after the war, then what had she...?

Enrique nodded, her face wreathed in smiles.

"I see. So that's how it is." "Yes. Nothing serious." "Hmm... Nothing... serious?" "Mm."

They exchanged terse replies in the icy atmosphere. Yet Ivan felt somewhat relieved. For some reason she looked displeased, but at least she seemed to have fully grasped the situation.

Well, then... problem solved.

With this much warning, Enrique's disciple wouldn't face any serious danger even if the "tutorial" went ahead. Enrique would protect her personally.

'Lucky me.'

Priscilla's kidnapping had brought about this unplanned meeting, but he'd gained more than expected with surprisingly little effort. That left three "protagonists" whose tutorials he had to handle, and even the earliest was still two weeks away...

"Lucia!! Lucia! Come in!!" "Yees, Master!"

With that cheerful reply, someone opened the drawing-room door and entered: a young woman in her late teens, her glossy chestnut hair swaying.

Enrique smiled at Ivan, her gaze somehow seeming to test him.

"Now, introduce yourself. This is your senior fellow disciple." "I've heard so much about you, Sir Petrovich! Master always told me I should strive to be even half as good as you!"

No, don't compliment him. This bastard's an ingrate.

Enrique gritted her teeth and forced a smile.

"You're... human?" "Pardon? Yes. Of course...?" "Of course...? Do you know what race your master belongs to?" "My master is a person!"

Lucia spoke with a resolute expression, her chest held high.

"Master may have to follow a slightly unusual diet, but she's a true hero who cherishes me and protects this country! If you ask me what defines a race, I would say ‘humanity,’ Sir Petrovich!" "Oh..."

Ivan couldn't help being impressed. Since the war with the demons, the United Kingdoms had been extremely hostile toward "nonhuman races" and "demihumans."

Naturally so. This was a country where most of the citizens walking its streets had lost immediate family to demons. (Elves were a separate matter. That big-eared race was ostracized for its repulsive character despite belonging to the United Kingdoms.)

In such an environment, the open-minded notion that "race" wasn't defined by species itself was something he would expect to see on twenty-first-century Earth, not in this godforsaken other world!

And hearing that refreshing answer—extremely "radical" by this world's standards—had left Enrique beaming.

"There, you see? I've taught her everything I know. It'll take a while to master it all, but she's finished learning it. If there's a Hero's Party in the next generation, she'll be the right choice."

No doubt. She could even walk freely under the sun, which would make her an even better fit for the Hero's Party.

And those words—"I've taught her everything, but it'll take time to master it"—also confirmed a certain suspicion of Ivan's.

'Is she talking about a skill tree?'

In most games, characters automatically acquired skills as they grew and leveled up. That was plainly strange. Didn't it mean the skills simply popped into their heads while they were adventuring or whatever?

But this game seemed to handle it differently.

"Already learned, but lacking experience and proficiency." Could there be a more apt explanation?

Ivan nodded.

"She's a disciple I'm proud of. A better person than me—no, than ‘us.’ Someone precious I found late in life. So... I don't want to kill you, Ivan." "Hmm...?"

Where had that come from?

Ivan flinched and laid his hand on his axe handle again. Enrique alone was daunting enough. Could he guarantee victory inside her dungeon, outnumbered two to one with her disciple there, and with a hostage in their hands?

A formidable task. He gave a low murmur, watching her hands closely.

"I'm asking you for the sake of our shared memories. Wash your hands of this world. This is my territory."

Enrique spoke with sincerity.

She meant that this city only needed one person running an assassination outfit: herself.

Don't earn blood money in the city's back alleys. Surely that wasn't what you retired for.

Alexander couldn't be trusted. If he insisted on getting involved in politics, he should approach Elizaveta instead.

She put all of that into her words, pleading earnestly.

And then:

"So it's come to this after all."

Ivan rose, gripping his axe handle tightly.

Enrique, so she'd sided with Alexander after all.

Taking on a member of the Hero's Party was clearly overtime, but there was no avoiding it.

"What did Alexander offer in return? People? Blood? Land?" "... What?" "If you're still allied with the royal house of Krasilof, then I, too, will ask for the sake of our shared memories. Where does your loyalty lie?" "Huh...?"

After staring into Ivan's eyes for a long moment, Enrique broke into a cold sweat and spoke.

"You haven't joined forces with Alexander?" "What are you talking about? I've never met that man with a smile on my face." "Neither have I." "Hmm...?"

Silence fell for a moment.

"So, um... you haven't been gathering orphans and teaching them assassination techniques or anything?" "Our orphanage's curriculum follows the standard educational program." "Then what's with that girl? She had proper ambush training!" "That is the children's own work. They've been training hard in various fields to find employment after graduation." "You didn't teach them?" "No."

Silence fell again for a moment.

So she was just an orphan of fifteen or so who was good at sneaking around?

And Enrique had simply kidnapped her, summoned this fellow... and threatened him...?

No, wait.

"Then what was that about my disciple? Why did you suddenly bring her up?" "Elizaveta asked me. A number of the Hero's Party's children are among this year's freshmen, so she wants me to guard them in secret. Had you not heard?" "No! That little brat! Why would she ask you?! I'm still alive and well! Who does she think she's treating like a has-been?!"

After shouting, Enrique slumped onto the sofa.

"This is exhausting. Honestly. It's always like this when I talk to you. Why must God be so fair? He could have given you a way with words. That's the only thing you're missing." "That is not true."

How dare some premodern old monster spout such nonsense at someone trained in twenty-first-century essay writing?

The Kim Seonwoo within rose up shouting, only to be suppressed by Ivan and sink back down.

"See, dear? This is what your senior is like. He spits out half his sentences, so you can never get a conversation to line up. Honestly." "Uh... Um."

Lucia hesitated, seemingly bewildered by the atmosphere in the drawing room, which had suddenly flared up only to fizzle out just as quickly.

"I think you two make a lovely pair!" "We do not." "What are you talking about?!"

With an awkward laugh, Lucia slipped out and carefully closed the door. A brief silence followed before Enrique lifted her black tea and spoke.

"Shall I have them bring you another cup?" "No need."

His coffee had gone completely cold, but it still tasted good. Ivan came from a country where people drank espresso over a cupful of ice in the first place, so he didn't care about the temperature.

The parent conference for an incoming St. Jansk University student had concluded successfully.

* * *

"Directoooor!!"

The instant the door opened, Priscilla ran out and threw herself into his arms. Ivan carefully patted her shoulders, then eased her away.

"Don't look for work in deserted places from now on." "Yes, yes! I was really, really scared!!" "It's all right now. Don't worry."

He took a handkerchief from inside his coat, wiped Priscilla's cheeks, and set off. Out of the drawing room and Enrique's dungeon, through the underground waterway, and back to the surface. Out of the back alleys and straight toward the main road.

After walking for a long while without a word, they suddenly stopped.

"Um, Director." "Mm." "By any chance—I mean, just maybe..."

Beneath a streetlamp shimmering with magical light, Priscilla gripped the hem of her skirt.

"Are you... getting ready to go somewhere...?" "Probably."

Once preparations were complete and the new term at Jansk University began in earnest, he would inevitably have to leave the orphanage. Under a new identity as a "gardener," to protect the children of the Hero's Party.

About three years. Not such a long time to him.

But not to the children.

For children who would have spent their whole lives as war orphans, this refuge they had only just found was something they couldn't afford to lose.

A family they had barely managed to build. A bed they had only just secured. A place they had struggled to be able to call "our home."

For children who had known nothing but abandonment, even though it had only been two years, this orphanage was their last bastion—a place where they never wanted to be abandoned again.

Priscilla stumbled over her words, her voice thick with tears.

"Please don't... sob... I don't want you to go. If you... sob... if you disappear, we'll be... again... sob..." "Hmm..."

Ivan took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. He was silent for a moment.

He had no memory of comforting a small child. Much less a little girl!

Rummaging through Kim Seonwoo's old memories yielded the same result. Kim Seonwoo had been a weirdo who spent all day reading webtoons and web novels and posted 5,700-character hate comments every single day.

His life since then went without saying. Having devoted more than half his life to military service, Ivan struggled to think of ways to communicate with someone that didn't involve an axe or a bullet.

"Don't worry. I'll visit often." "Where... where are you going...?"

Surely he could tell her this much. She was practically his own "child," and it wasn't important information.

Flustered by Priscilla's tears, Ivan answered.

"St. Jansk University." "You have to come back, all right...?" "I'm not leaving right away, and I'm not leaving forever."

Not with all the effort and affection he'd poured into the orphanage. It was as good as his home. In his heart, the director's office was his one true sanctuary.

He made a firm resolution, patted the sniffling Priscilla on the shoulder a couple of times, and turned away.

And then:

'St. Jansk University. I heard the entrance exam is hard... The exam for next year's intake is this November, so...'

Every last child at Vasilisa Orphanage began studying for the Jansk University entrance exam!