Chapter 30 - A Night of Counting Stars (4)

Oswald was a freshman in the Magic Department. As most elves were.

Looking at the racial makeup of St. Jansk University, most elves were concentrated in the Magic Department and the College of Music. You could chalk that up to the race's innate laziness and aversion to physical exertion.

That morning, while classes were in full swing, Ivan and Eugene made their way to the Magic Department.

“Boss, I've been thinking.”

“Mm.”

“Isn't it strange how this world doesn't have paladins?”

The brat seemed to have abandoned any intention of hiding that he was a Possessor.

“I mean, this world is different from both our original stories to begin with. But if a world has a god, divine spells, and knights, isn't it common sense for it to have holy knights?”

“Why would a priest need to take up a weapon?”

Ivan knew that the very concept of a holy knight bordered on fantasy.

On Earth, holy knights had been knights who went to war for their religious convictions during the Crusades, so strictly speaking, they weren't priests. They had never been ordained. (And they were exceedingly worldly, to boot.)

Not that ordained priests had never served as knights. But in those cases, you couldn't call them knights. They were simply armed clerics.

This world was no different. Priests in this premodern society were, by definition, an exceptionally educated elite. They had to acquire a breadth of knowledge comparable to that of modern legal professionals.

And once they took the three ordination vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and received divine spells from God, they had even less reason to exert themselves physically.

If a single Smite could hit harder than most knights without their even leaving their seats, why bother...?

Ordained priests had no reason to go to the front lines in the first place, so why go out of their way...?

And there was one more reason, the biggest of all.

In a world where a personal god actually existed, a priest's authority was beyond imagining. Anyone lacking moral character couldn't use divine spells.

In other words, every priest in this world was fundamentally good. Astonishingly, that really was true. And because everyone took that fact for granted, all priests enjoyed tremendous social respect.

Thus, the only time they had ever strapped on swords and gone to war themselves was during the war against the demons. Even then, they had never actually been stationed on the very front lines.

Knights who cast divine spells could only be a fantasy.

After listening to the kindly explanation from the orphanage director with thirty years of other-world experience under his belt, Eugene clapped his hands and said,

“Then I'm the first?”

“... What?”

“I got divine spell slots after applying to the Theology Department! I don't have many spells I can use yet, but I can use them!”

And Eugene had a specialized passive called ‘Sword Mastery.’ In other words, his proficiency with a sword surpassed that of others.

“So, a priest who can use divine spells and is also good with a sword... Isn't that a holy knight? Wow, Boss. I think I'm the founder of the paladin build.”

He wasn't wrong. Ivan nodded and sank into thought for a moment.

Divine spell slots...?

“Can you learn other spells, too?”

“It's possible, but they cost so much XP that I haven't tried. Life's all about picking your priorities and focusing on them, right?”

Divine power, magic, and swordsmanship. He could learn all three disciplines?

Ivan narrowed his eyes at Eugene. A past conversation flashed through his mind.

[“It never hurts to learn something! Except magic. That was just way too hard.”]

[“It's a little troubling if a hero can't use magic.”]

[“Ahaha, I told you, I'm in the Knight Department!”]

It had been a passing conversation with Isabelle.

A hero's daughter didn't necessarily become a hero herself, but what if he considered Maximilien's case?

'A Possessor who can use divine power, magic, and swordsmanship.'

Was this brat a hero?

Ivan looked down at Eugene with a conflicted expression. Eugene walked along, chuckling like a sycophantic courtier.

“I've always wanted to say this if I became a holy knight. You know, ‘Deus vult—God wills it!’ Ah, that's the stuff.”

Ivan, who had been thinking of Maximilien, shook his head. He didn't think there was any need for a world where this brat was the hero.

Soon, the two arrived at the Magic Department's lecture building.

* * *

In the middle of class, Oswald suddenly felt an eerie chill creep up the back of his neck and shrank into himself.

An intense stare. Almost killing intent—no, laden with a hunger even thicker than that...

Evelyn Rust Peiz. The privy council chairman's precious daughter, the young lady of the ducal House Rust Peiz, was glaring at him.

Oswald clenched his teeth.

'What the hell am I supposed to do...?!'

He was an ordinary adult man in his twenties. Meaning he'd never read the so-called “romantic fantasy for women” lumped together as villainess fiction.

In other words, he knew absolutely nothing about this novel.

Setting aside why he'd been unceremoniously dumped into a novel he hadn't even read thirty chapters of, he now had to survive in a world whose story he didn't know, without so much as a possession perk.

'I should've at least read some regret-despair-obsession stories!'

He wanted to pound the ground and wail. It wasn't as though he'd never read novels grouped under regret, despair, and obsession, but those clichés were only enjoyable in fiction.

In the harsh reality of twenty-first-century South Korea, a heroine regretting her treatment of the protagonist, falling apart, and obsessing over him had another name.

Stalking. Dating violence serious enough for the nice police officers to come and tell you off!

Anyway, as for the current situation, and why Evelyn was glaring at him...

It had happened because he'd smiled at a female student he'd accidentally bumped into in the hallway and told her it was all right...!

'What the fuck, was I supposed to slap her instead?'

Nobody short of a complete psychopath would do that. However thoroughly steeped in arrogance elves might be, that wasn't part of their culture.

They believed arrogance was simply another facet of nobility. Meaning they didn't engage in such vulgar behavior. In other words, Oswald's response had been perfectly sensible even by elven standards...!

But our dear Miss Evelyn, whose personality had transcended the bounds of elven behavior, apparently disagreed.

“Well, this lesson's been a little dull, hasn't it? I'm afraid it can't be helped, everyone. Wake that student dozing off over there, and shall we take a ten-minute break before continuing?”

At the professor's words and warm smile from the podium, students throughout the lecture hall rose, stretching.

Oswald got up casually as well and headed into the hallway, avoiding Evelyn, who was still glaring daggers at him.

Very carefully, so that he wouldn't bump into any female students this time.

“Grab him.”

“Yes, Boss!”

Walking down the hallway, Oswald ran into a group of Possessors instead.

* * *

Oswald's impression of the pair was simple. A lunatic-and-madman duo.

Indeed, the younger lunatic—the black-haired young human man incessantly rubbing his palms together with the face of a sycophantic courtier—said this as soon as he saw him.

“Well, pleased to meet you, Mr. Eastvelfen! I'm Yevgeny. Back in Korea, I was called Kim Eugene. And this is Ivan. I don't know his Korean name, but he's Korean!”

“...?”

“We came because we know you're a Possessor. Do you need help?”

“...???”

Around which chapter did this event happen? At least in the chapters he'd read, there hadn't been any other Possessors...

The <Magic Genius the Villainess Is Obsessed With> he'd read hadn't gone anything like this. Of course, it hadn't had this bizarre Russian setting, either.

While he was momentarily lost in confusion, the old man introduced as Ivan spoke.

“I know you're surprised. But you need our help, and we need yours. Could you spare us a moment?”

“Ah, yes... But how did you know about me...?”

What was the most defining characteristic of a Possessor? Hiding their possession, of course.

Possession, put bluntly, meant stealing the body of someone who had already been living in it. What happened if you entered a body whose family and friends were all still very much alive?

At best, you'd become a human test subject. At worst, they might chop your head clean off for being their son's (or daughter's) mortal enemy.

Countless Korean possession-story clichés had already proven this. To the family and friends, a Possessor would be nothing more than an enemy.

So, after realizing he'd possessed someone and spending a sufficient amount of time in despair, Oswald had concealed his identity thoroughly.

It should have been perfect...?

“You didn't act like an elf.”

“Pardon...?”

“Elves almost never speak politely.”

Except when addressing someone like the Saint, a reigning monarch, or their equivalent. Elves didn't even use respectful language in official correspondence. Most of those long-lived races were like that to begin with.

Yet this brat had actually used polite language when collecting his enrollment documents from admissions. The moment Ivan heard that story, the word ‘Possessor’ had inevitably sprung to mind before ‘polite, good-natured elf.’

Because there could be no such thing as a polite, good-natured elf.

Having identified a Possessor as a matter of course, Ivan had underlined Oswald's name and kept him under observation.

An elf who smiled and said it was all right when a human classmate, chatting with her friends, bumped into him at a hallway corner...?

Impossible.

“Don't even monkeys have forward-facing vision? Are you an herbivore, by any chance? Can't you see straight ahead? Don't get me wrong, vegetarians deserve respect, too.”

Wasn't that the sort of thing an ordinary elf would say to a rude human...?

As Oswald listened to Ivan's explanation, his expression grew increasingly stiff.

What on earth was this old geezer saying...?

Was this racism? Experiencing an emotion he'd never even felt on Earth, in another world—and as an elf, no less—left him with complicated feelings...

“So, what was the story you read?”

“Oh, for the record, mine was <The Swordsmanship Genius and Scoundrel of the Northern Grand Duke's Family>!”

“... Mine was <The Genius Mage the Villainess Is Obsessed With>...”

“Oh, regret-despair-obsession. You must've become a Possessor in 2021 or later, then?”

“It was May 2023.”

“Oh...!”

Ignoring Eugene's chatter about his own circumstances, Oswald turned to Ivan.

“Are there any more Possessors?”

“Probably.”

Eugene nodded gravely.

“Let's go to the Knight Department.”

* * *

Yuri went deathly pale at the sight of the three men blocking her way.

The suspicious gardener with a towel around his neck, the blond, tanned creep rubbing his palms together beside him with a sycophantic grin, and now...

“Hello. I'm Oswald from the Magic Department. I'm a first-year, too. I specialize in Mind Sorcery. Um, mental magic, that is.”

A narrow-eyed character who casually admitted he used hypnosis magic had joined the lineup.

“You're a Possessor, right? I hear you're probably Korean. Wow, doesn't this kind of make you feel like we should start a Seoul hometown association or something?”

The blond, tanned creep chuckled and reached out.

“Eeeek!!”

Yuri's vision went black!

* * *

Yuri Frank, the Knight Department's top student.

Yevgeny Novikov Karamzin, a Theology Department student also trained in swordsmanship.

Oswald Eastvelfen of the Magic Department, specializing in Mind Sorcery.

And Ivan Petrovich. A former Extermination Unit scout.

Ivan surveyed the Possessors gathered in the small clubroom and thought.

Wasn't this the lineup for a Hero's Party...?