A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! — Chapter 114

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.