Chapter 12

An unexpected twist in the joint training session between the Second-Year Department of Knights and the Department of Magic.

Contrary to expectations, the first-place winners were Luina Bercheff, second in the Department of Knights, and Fernan Pellenberg, tenth in the Department of Magic.

“Fernan Pellenberg, who defeated the pair Carlo Deneb and Alia Torta and confined ten students for about five minutes. Has he been hiding his power all this time?”

How did Luina Bercheff and Fernan Pellenberg end up as a pair?

The joint training between the Department of Knights and the Department of Magic wasn’t just a second-year matter—it became a major issue throughout the entire academy.

Aint let out a sigh of admiration as he flipped through the daily newspaper.

“As expected, Pellenberg is Pellenberg. And Luina Bercheff, even though she lost the rights to the Golden Decree, is still a Bercheff.”

— Hmm. That rich kid really pulled off a great result.

“Or maybe it’s thanks to the Bercheff lineage.”

— The world’s going to hell when the status of nouveau riche rises and the Bercheff family teeters on the brink of ruin.

The ego inside the sword, Alfenparsen, clicked his tongue in disgust.

“You don’t like Pellenberg, but you seem to prefer Bercheff.”

— Don’t compare those two families. The head of the Bercheff family was the only knight who could stand on the battlefield alongside the former Emperor… and me.

— I still fondly remember the days we rode into battle together, cutting down demon heads.

The nostalgic tone of the ego hardened again.

— Compared to that, the Pellenbergs are…!

— Don’t compare them again. It’s an insult to Bercheff.

“But right now, it’s Pellenberg getting all the credit. Even Bercheff owes him a huge debt.”

— That’s why this world is doomed.

— A noble house of heroes is trampled while vulgar upstarts float skyward on fame.

— If I didn’t need military funds, I’d have taken care of them myself… Wait a minute.

The sword trembled faintly in Aint’s hand.

“That’s it.”

“Huh? What do you mean, that’s it all of a sudden?”

— That Fernan or Bernan guy said it, didn’t he? That you could come to him anytime if you needed something.

“…Senior Fernan never said that.”

In fact, he had approached Aint, but only to waste time with meaningless conversation.

— He didn’t say it? Even if it wasn’t explicit, being kind and making an effort to talk… that’s how those types operate.

— And besides, your gear sucks, so go ask him for some money.

“…What?”

— Why are you so surprised?

— You agreed we’d make that guy your lord, didn’t you?

“But wouldn’t it be weird to suddenly ask out of nowhere?”

— Out of nowhere? This is exactly what he’s expecting.

— I guarantee it. He’ll give you the money like he’s been waiting for the chance.

The sword flashed a confident smile.

— Sure, they’ll try to charge you interest later, but who cares? Once the demons come back, they’ll be the ones clinging to your leg, begging for help.

“…Demons.”

At that word, Aint’s expression hardened.

“Honestly, I still have a hard time believing it. Are demons really coming back?”

— Yes.

The sword confirmed it.

— The former Emperor turned me into the ego of a sword because he foresaw the return of demons and wanted to prepare for the worst. The fact that I’ve awakened means his prophecy is coming true.

“…Mmm.”

— Don’t worry. You’ll defeat the demons and save the world. Because you will.

“…Yeah.”

— First, go squeeze that rich kid for some gear. It’s the least they can do for a hero destined to save the world.

The voice that had once been solemn quickly turned frivolous again.

I felt a bit lost as to which version of Gardner was the real one.

“…But won’t this draw Schwaben’s attention?”

— That’s exactly why you should do it. Don’t you want to know why he approached you even with Schwaben nearby? If I’m not mistaken, that guy will definitely help you. Not openly, because of all the eyes watching, but he’ll help all the same.

The sword said it with certainty. And that confidence was…

***

“…Sorry, but young master Fernan said he can’t meet with you.”

“…What?”

…It was instantly devastating when an employee at the shop where they had once secretly met coldly turned him away.

The balance of power had shifted.

Fernan Pellenberg had drawn attention ever since he first enrolled.

But that was a very different kind of attention from what he received now. Back then, it was all about the prestige of the Pellenberg Family and the expectations that came with it.

There had been no genuine hope or applause specifically for Fernan.

Even ranking tenth was considered the bare minimum for a Pellenberg. In fact, ranking tenth earned him a reputation as a run-of-the-mill guy.

That perception flipped overnight.

It was thanks to his pairing with Luina, and even though they’d only taken first place once, the performance was unlike anything anyone had ever seen from him.

“You must be pleased.”

“It’s just a fleeting flash.”

For now, people might treat him like an exceptional talent, but they’d lose interest just as quickly. If he had even one poor showing, everything would collapse faster than it rose.

That’s why Fernan paid little attention to the cheers surrounding him. Because that wasn’t what mattered.

“You’re the one who was happy to be first for the first time, weren’t you?”

He thought so. But now… not anymore.

Luina shook her head.

“You finally beat Almon, didn’t you?”

It wasn’t a midterm or a final. It was just a practical session.

That same session Rosalia said would count for bonus points, second only to midterms and finals. A graduate might lie, but Professor Rosalia wouldn’t.

This time, she nodded slightly, but her resolute gaze didn’t waver.

It was just one victory. You caught me off guard, but who knows what’ll happen from now on. I need to grit my teeth and keep winning.

“You’re really rigid and textbook.”

“I’m just speaking by the book.”

Taking a sip of tea, he changed the subject.

“So, why did you call me this time?”

“At the academy, if you get good grades, they give you a scholarship.”

“…Are you saying you’re giving me something because we placed first?”

You? Luina’s face twisted slightly.

“I’m your sponsor, after all.”

“I don’t need it.”

“You will. And giving something is my decision.”

‘I already got gear once and almost raised suspicion among my friends. A second time…’

“Take it.”

Fernan didn’t even wait for her full protest before pulling out a small box.

“…What’s this?”

“I noticed you haven’t taken the mandrake root yet.”

“I’m still preparing for it.”

The mana stored in a mandrake root was so immense that it couldn’t be consumed carelessly. It wasn’t the kind of elixir you could just take on a whim.

“Well, I was wrong. I assumed that preparation would be easy, but I was thinking by my own standards.”

In the Pellenberg family, no matter what was attempted, the preparations were always in place. But Bercheff, just starting to recover from collapse, couldn’t afford such luxuries.

“…”

Luina fell silent and stared at Fernan as he pointed out that painful truth.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. If I did, I apologize.”

“You don’t sound the least bit sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter. What counts is that I said it out loud.”

Click. Fernan opened the box. Inside were five different vials.

“What are those?”

“One for a mana control circle. One to strengthen your mana path. One to enhance your mental fortitude. One to boost the mandrake’s effectiveness. And one to neutralize its toxicity.”

It was a complete set of supplements to safely consume the mandrake root.

“They’re all top-quality—truly priceless. So what? Don’t need them?”

“…Yeah.”

Fernan smiled, and Luina murmured in a voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll repay this debt, no matter what.”

“No need. A sponsor shouldn’t expect anything in return, right?”

“Most do, as far as I know.”

“And you really believe I’m spending all this money and expecting nothing in return?”

“So you won’t accept it?”

“…Thanks. Someday, I…”

***

After parting with Luina, Fernan returned to the Ravidus Pavilion. The meeting had gone better than expected. He didn’t mind it at all.

“I’ve fastened the top button. Time to move on to the next.”

“But haven’t you already buttoned the whole coat?”

A servant who had entered at just the right moment asked.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“We’re alone and I heard everything, but if you say so, I’ll believe it.”

At the servant’s blank response, Fernan hesitated. Should he tell him?

About the end of the world. About Aint Armian, the prophecy’s protagonist. About the terrifying future of his downfall.

His servant, Hyde, had been with him since childhood. Aside from his family, there was no one Fernan trusted more.

He was Fernan’s hands and feet, and the perfect aide in preparing for the end.

“Hyde.”

“Yes, young master?”

“…No, never mind.”

Still, Fernan couldn’t bring himself to say it yet. Because if their roles were reversed, Fernan knew he wouldn’t believe it either.

‘I’ll tell him when I have definitive proof.’

That was Fernan’s typical approach.

Appealing to emotions wasn’t his style (and besides, he didn’t feel confident doing it).

“Anyway, what is it?”

“Ah, a visitor has arrived.”

“A visitor?”

“Yes. He said his name is Aint Armian.”

“…Where is he now?”

“At the shop where you met him before. What should I do?”

“Hold on.”

He came first? That was unexpected.

He thought the bait hadn’t worked, but apparently, it had.

“Why do you think Aint Armian asked to see me?”

“Because you left the door open.”

“And the reason?”

“Many knock on the Pellenberg Family’s door, but their motives are always the same.”

Money. Whether it was sponsorship, help, or a loan, it all boiled down to the same thing.

“Exactly. That’s what I thought.”

Fernan nodded.

Once you understood someone’s intentions, it was easier to deal with them.

“You should be careful.”

“Careful?”

“We don’t know how the imperial family will react. The current one is nothing like the last, but still, this would be a thorn in their side.”

“I know.”

Still, he had to create and maintain the connection. Because Fernan had seen what kind of hero Aint Armian would become one day.

“For now, reject the meeting.”

“Should I send someone discreetly?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll use the person we prepared for this kind of situation. Could you write a letter?”

Fernan shook his head. Their relationship wasn’t sentimental enough for letters.

“Send him an elixir.”

“Not money?”

“No. He probably tried to be discreet, but the academy has too many eyes. If he sees me and ends up with new gear…”

To anyone, it would look suspicious.

“Then I’ll prepare a suitable elixir.”

“No.”

He recalled the future he had seen.

Andromalius.

Just thinking about that terrifying figure sent chills down his spine.

Fernan had no intention of facing it himself. That was Aint’s role from the beginning.

If my involvement causes changes to the future, the best way to reduce variables is to help now while I still can.

It was a bit extravagant, sure, but better that than the extinction of humanity.

“Go yourself and raid the family vault.”

Fernan gave the order firmly.

***

That night, Aint returned to his dorm, grumbling about Gardner, only to freeze in shock when he saw the small box on his bed.

— I told you!

— What did I say?!

“There’s no proof this is from senior Fernan…”

When he opened the box and examined the contents, Aint’s hands trembled, and he dropped it without realizing.

— The Heart of a Holy Bird?! Are they insane? How did they get this?!

It was the heart of a sacred bird that held the power of light. Perfectly compatible with Armian swordsmanship, which was based on light.

— Yeah, classic rich people nonsense. Now tell me, who else but those flashy, loaded types would wrap up an insanely expensive elixir like this and leave it on your bed? Seriously, does that even make any logical sense?

“I can’t even deny it. But this isn’t the gear I asked for.”

— Exactly. Proof that they’re worried about being watched by usurpers.

Gardner’s smug smile was the cherry on top.