Chapter 114

“Ugh, today’s rough too. This damn knight training is impossible to get used to. All of this is just to survive, to stay alive.”

Gismond stretched after dropping off his damaged armor at the workshop. The street was bustling with people during the lunch hour.

‘Still, I’m starting to get the hang of it.’

He summoned his aura and smiled in satisfaction as small sparks of energy appeared at his fingertips.

During the jousting tournament, his aura had scattered in all directions and he could only force it, but now it flowed more or less as he intended.

“Good, this is how it’s supposed to be. Exactly like this.”

If he kept getting stronger like this, at least…

“What’s supposed to be like that, senior?”

The unexpected voice startled him. He turned around abruptly, and there stood someone he never expected to see.

“Fe—Fernan?”

“Yes, long time no see.”

“Why…?”

“Pure coincidence. I saw you and remembered your performance in the jousting tournament—couldn’t just pass by without saying hello.”

“Ah… right?”

Gismond laughed awkwardly, uneasy.

“Well, goodbye. I’ve got to eat quickly and get to my next class.”

“Sure.”

Gismond walked away in long strides, heart pounding in his chest.

‘Damn, I thought I was going to die of fright.’

He never imagined Fernan Pellenberg would approach him out of nowhere.

‘Fernan Pellenberg… that guy who was supposed to end up ruined, walking around the Academy like nothing… is it because of me?’

He couldn’t point to anything specific, but the discomfort lingered.

‘Did it make the papers? Tsk, should’ve read the morning edition… forget it, no use worrying.’

Shaking his head, he stepped into a restaurant packed with students. It was a casual place, already crowded.

He slumped into an open seat and opened the menu.

“Let’s see, one tomato arancini and past—”

“I’d recommend the gnocchi with cream and blue cheese. The Golden Turtle Guild supplies excellent quality potatoes here.”

“Ahhh?!”

The scream nearly sent him flying. He turned around, terrified.

“What… what the hell are you doing here?! Why are you following me?”

“I also came to eat.”

“You, here?”

“Don’t think that just because I’m a Pellenberg, I only eat fancy and expensive meals. That kind of prejudice is why people see us as despots.”

“……”

Faced with that calm demeanor, Gismond looked away with effort. He was right—just because someone was a noble didn’t mean they dined on banquets daily.

Surely this was all coincidence—Fernan showing up at that restaurant and sitting next to him.

“…One tomato arancini and pasta, please.”

Fernan didn’t push further and focused on his own plate.

The gnocchi smothered in cream and cheese gave off a tempting aroma.

‘That looks delicious…’

Gismond swallowed and forced himself to finish his food.

***

‘Next class is…’

“Aura Control and Sword Techniques,” taught by Professor Emond Altriark.

It was his favorite subject.

The abuse of elixirs had left his mana and aura unbalanced, and that class had helped stabilize them.

Students gradually filled the classroom. The professor took attendance and began without delay.

“Let’s begin.”

First session since the Continental Congress. The professor started with theory, testing how much they had forgotten during the autumn break.

“…Good. Let’s have a short test.”

The students’ faces tensed immediately, but Emond remained unmoved.

As the papers were being handed out—

“A test on the first day back… Professor Emond, don’t you think that’s a bit much, senior?”

“Yeah, starting like this is a bit…”

Senior? What? At Armian Academy, there were no mixed classes between years.

“…What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

Behind him stood Fernan.

“I’m also interested in this subject.”

“What nonsense! This is a third-year class! And from the Knight Department…!”

Gismond lowered his voice with difficulty.

“There’s no rule that prohibits a mage from attending a knight class.”

“And how did you pull it off?”

“With authorization. I’m not sneaking in, don’t worry.”

“Are you ki—”

“Silence.”

The professor’s voice cut through the conversation.

“Gismond, is there a problem?”

“Professor, here…”

“If it’s nothing serious, don’t interrupt.”

The professor’s eyes had clearly passed over Fernan too. If he didn’t kick him out, it meant he was officially allowed.

“…Did you buy him off?”

“Do you think an Altriark would accept a cheap bribe?”

“Then what?”

“I told you—I’m interested. Maybe the professor was impressed by my academic passion.”

“A mage in an aura class?”

“Well, here I am.”

Fernan casually fiddled with his pendant, which glowed brightly. Gismond, irritated, didn’t notice.

“…Why the hell are you following me? What did I do to you?”

“Coincidence.”

“Coincidence?”

“We crossed paths in the street, ate at the same place, and now we’re in the same class. All just coincidence.”

“All of that, coincidence?”

“The Academy is small.”

After that, he didn’t speak to him again until the class ended.

***

When the lesson was over, Gismond returned to his dorm with some food. He sat at his desk and opened the newspaper he hadn’t had time to read that morning.

“…What…?”

He rubbed his eyes and looked again. The text was the same.

[The Legend of the Empire, the Legend of the First Emperor, and now the Legend of Armian…]

That Aint Armian had become famous across the continent after the Congress made sense.

[The three corrupts who murdered 11 nobles…]

But that the scandal had been caused by corrupts and not by the summoned demon…

[Fernan Pellenberg, great heir to House Pellenberg, seen with Aint Armian. What is their relationship?]

And that Fernan, instead of falling into disgrace, now appeared as a hero alongside Aint—it was absurd.

He had already found it odd that Fernan had returned alive from the Congress, but he never imagined he’d emerge a hero.

‘Could it be because of me?’

Maybe.

‘But I had no choice. I had to save myself.’

At least Aint’s future didn’t seem to have changed much.

That Fernan, who was supposed to fall, had become an ally was strange—but ultimately, it improved things.

‘And maybe that’s why Fernan’s been after me since this morning?’

No, no one knew what he had done. Impossible.

“…Relax. Nothing’s changed. Nothing will change—I think.”

“Is there something strange in the newspaper?”

“Eh?”

The voice froze him. Gismond turned around and—

“Damn it, you nearly scared me to death!”

Someone was already sitting in his room. The food dropped to the floor.

“You… you! What are you doing here?”

“I’m Fernan. Haven’t you seen me all day?”

“Don’t tell me this is another coincidence!”

“Of course not. Meeting here, in your own dorm room, can’t possibly be coincidence.”

“How did you get in?”

“There’s no place in the Academy I can’t enter.”

Neither other classrooms nor someone else’s dorm were exceptions.

“Why are you doing this to me?!”

“That’s exactly what I want to ask you.”

“What…?”

“What you said earlier—‘Relax, nothing has changed.’ No one says that just from reading a newspaper, do they?”

“……!”

Gismond’s eyes trembled. Fernan stood up from the chair and stepped closer.

“Don’t come near! Stay away!”

He backed up, but the bed blocked his retreat.

“I said stay back, damn it!”

“You think I’m going to eat you? I’m just standing here.”

Fernan touched his abdomen—right where the aura core was located.

“They say you’ve stuffed all kinds of things in there.”

“And what does that have to do with you?!”

“With me, nothing. With Aint Armian, a lot.”

“H-How do you…?”

Gismond instinctively covered his mouth—too late.

“Senior, I’m going to ask you a question now.”

Fernan gave a lopsided smile.

“Your answer will decide our relationship. And what I do with you.”

“You have no right…!”

Gismond shouted, nearly in tears.

“I do. I’m a Pellenberg, after all.”

A wall of sand rose and completely blocked the windows and door.

“Now, senior…”

He whispered.

“Can you see the future?”

“Hiic!”

Pale, Gismond broke into tears.

***

“So you’re telling me that one day you were struck by lightning, and suddenly future memories began appearing?”

“Yes! That’s all! Really, that’s absolutely everything!”

Gismond, eyes brimming with tears, pleaded his innocence.

“You’re not lying?”

“N-No! It’s the whole truth!”

Yes, it wasn’t a lie. It was true that Gismond Ert had been struck by lightning.

‘Of course. I just didn’t tell him everything, but I didn’t lie, right?’

On the verge of wetting himself from fear, he held back “everything else” that was piling up in his throat.

That part must never be said. Ever.

“Look me in the eyes.”

“……”

Gismond forced himself to meet his gaze.

‘…How can the eyes of a 21-year-old kid look like that?’

A gaze heavy with death, like someone who had already killed. No matter how much he tried to calm down, his ragged breathing gave him away.

“In that case, why did you covet what belonged to Aint? You can’t be so stupid as to not understand that if Aint doesn’t grow enough, this world is doomed.”

“I-I didn’t have a choice either! The world is about to end, and I couldn’t just get dragged down like some powerless commoner!”

That part was completely sincere—no tricks, no lies.

In the near future, demons would wreak havoc, and the whole continent would be at war.

How could anyone stay still knowing a simple, powerless citizen would never survive?

“But I didn’t take everything! If Aint can’t fight demons, then it’s all over! So I only took a few things—the minimum, so it wouldn’t hurt him too much!”

“Those few things turned out to be quite a bit.”

“But we’re talking about demons! Without that, I’d have died like a stray dog!”

Gismond cried out in desperation.

At those words, Fernan didn’t rebuke him further.

‘It’s true—if someone knew what was coming, it would be hard to stay idle.’

He somewhat agreed.

In a way, he even appreciated that Gismond had held back to this extent, since it didn’t seem to have changed the future too much.

‘But I can’t just leave him like this.’

The problem was what would come next.

Could he guarantee that he’d keep holding back? And if he acted again, thinking it was minor, could that create a massive butterfly effect?

When the crisis was in front of him, could he swear not to use his knowledge of the future again?

“Maybe it would be best to kill you right here.”

The fewer people who knew about the future, the better. Ideally, only he should know.

“Wait, don’t kill me! I haven’t done anything that bad! I only took some elixirs!”

“You know very well the value of those elixirs.”

“I didn’t steal them from anyone! I got them on my own and drank them myself!”

“No. They belonged to Aint Armian. If I hadn’t given him substitutes, Aint’s growth would’ve stopped completely.”

That alone was enough to justify removing that variable.

“Wait! I can be very useful!”

“Useful how?”

“In the future! I know the future! I know everything! I know when, where, and what will happen! I even know how this world will end!”

“You say you know everything?”

“Yes!”

Fernan frowned.

‘This isn’t like my case with the prophecy book…’

He only saw what came after each event, sequentially.

But Gismond seemed to be claiming he knew everything—from start to finish.

‘It’s worth listening further.’

“Then tell me—are all the demons really going to descend on this world? If so, when and how?”

“Of course they are! They… all of them? Were they all…? Uh… huh?”

Suddenly, Gismond’s face contorted strangely.

“All of them? Wait… were they summoned? Or not?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t know… I know Andromalius was summoned, and that Seir descended during the Continental Congress… but beyond that… why can’t I remember?”

He murmured, dazed.