Chapter 109

An intellectual who enlightens the public.

A gardener of life who nurtures the future of children.

A teacher or professor who teaches students. An occupation generally referred to as an educator. A vanguard of the intellectual class.

A person who makes the study of theology easy to understand and meaningful, allowing students to approach theology with less burden.

And, the man who serves as the professor of theology for the first-year class A. His name is Lucio Antorelli.

He was sinking.

Professor Lucio Antorelli. What was the first cause that began to drown him in an emotion so dark that its depth was unfathomable?

What was the first weight that hung at his feet and submerged Professor Antorelli into that deep abyss?

Was it participating in the Great War? Experiencing and witnessing the scenes of slaughter there?

Helena’s death? Or was it the utilitarian actions of Maximilian von Adelheit?

Or perhaps it stemmed from the death of Cesar Li?

What’s clear is that the root of his pain was solidified by Helena’s death.

Encountering that irrevocable first wave of fate, Professor Antorelli first sought out cigarettes and black tea. Cheap, mass-produced cigarettes with a refreshing mint scent, and similarly cheap black tea distributed to all troops of the Imperial Defense Force.

The mass-produced cigarettes from an unknown factory and the bitter, dried black tea. With a taste as cheap and easy to obtain as their price, Professor Antorelli’s heart gradually became desolate.

The second wave that crashed upon the wearied Professor Antorelli was the everlasting struggle of a war zone and a cruel world where death and killing continued unabated.

He changed his tone for the second time. It could be said that he had transformed entirely.

He no longer used informal speech. He adopted a humble demeanor, addressing everyone with formalities, and his speech patterns were unified with military-style endings such as “na,” “ka,” and so on.

The third wave crashed down. Professor Antorelli, who had been worn down almost to the point of a thin wick, finally managed to escape the battlefield and reintegrate into society.

Professor Antorelli was released into society in an utterly exhausted state.

Even afterward, scenes of Cesar burning, the screams and terror recurring from the battlefield, the brutal trench warfare with blood splattering, and the ghastly death of Helena continued to assault him.

The waves that had crashed before showed no signs of tiring and kept attacking Professor Antorelli.

In life, it is said that happiness and pain alternate.

That was a lie. In Professor Antorelli’s “life,” there was no existence other than pain.

And then, there were countless young people in similar circumstances.

His worn-out mind was irretrievable, and there were limited ways to soothe his devastated heart.

He could either sprinkle alcohol on a heart as barren as a desert, swiftly evaporating the remaining moisture, or he could resort to drugs that offer a fleeting sense of happiness with just a flick of a finger.

Or, he could live with the weight of the desire to die and the heavy responsibility no one could alleviate, hunched under its burden.

Indeed, it was a wretched life.

He wished to cite the example of a breakwater.

He had fought against innumerable crashing waves, unable to retreat because of the other breakwaters standing behind him.

He had physically stood against the wave of foreign invasion that threatened to burn his homeland and family, while being worn down by the uncertainty of the future and fate that eroded his mind and spirit.

Thus, he quietly held his ground.

“…”

Sofia Sub-priest watched the man whose functionality as a breakwater had been eroded from all sides.

Even after class had ended, he stood alone in front of the empty podium in the lecture room. In the classroom, apart from Sofia and Professor Antorelli, there was no one else.

Sofia Sub-priest gazed at the blackboard. A drawing depicting a railroad, a train, and six people.

The picture had been smeared and erased carelessly, as if someone had desperately tried to obliterate it.

Sofia stood silently watching the scene before slowly approaching Professor Antorelli.

“I cannot accept this.”

Professor Antorelli mumbled. Sofia Sub-priest’s footsteps came to a halt.

“Other people…. the fact that they chose the twisted goodwill born out of oppression…. I simply cannot accept it.”

His head turned. His hollow eyes pierced through Sofia.

“Sofia Sub-priest.”

“…Head Priest.”

“Am I…. wrong?”

Sofia Sub-priest did not answer. No, she could not respond.

The image of Professor Antorelli, as if squeezing out his last bit of strength like a gnarled old tree, was filled with incomprehensible certainty.

As Sofia Sub-priest failed to respond and fell silent, Professor Antorelli chuckled lightly and shook his head.

“No…. It is nothing. I’m sorry, Sofia Sub-priest.”

He lifted the bag on the podium and turned his back to wipe the blackboard clean.

Quickly. So that no trace would remain, as if it were done in a hurry. His drawing was thus erased.

“I…”

Sofia Sub-priest’s tightly closed mouth finally opened just as Professor Antorelli had nearly wiped the blackboard clean.

“I do not think that your thoughts are wrong, Head Priest.”

“…Sofia Sub-priest.”

Professor Antorelli turned his head. The slight tightening of his lips indicated that he was somewhat irritated.

“I didn’t ask for sympathy.”

“It’s not sympathy.”

“Then what is it? Does that mean my thoughts were correct?”

If so, why had he been unable to answer just a moment ago? Professor Antorelli pressed.

And Sofia Sub-priest gently shook her head.

“No. That’s not it either.”

“I’m not in the mood for wordplay, Sofia Sub-priest.”

“It’s not wordplay.”

“Then…!”

It swelled and then swiftly deflated. Like boiling water.

In an instant, the fury that flickered in Professor Antorelli’s eyes settled into calmness. He asked, bewildered.

“Then what is it…? What does Sofia Sub-priest think?”

“…….”

“Students said it. That it’s the right choice to die alone to save five people. Every single one, without exception. Do you think that alone is insufficient to support the notion that my thinking was wrong?”

“It’s not that it’s wrong, it’s different.”

Professor Antorelli, who had been questioning Sofia Sub-priest, stood still, frozen in time.

– Whoosh—!

Rain hit the window of the classroom behind him, making a sound.

Amidst the discordant rhythm of raindrops, Sofia Sub-priest spoke softly.

“You’re not wrong, Head Priest; it’s different.”

“……”

“And, perhaps…. somewhere in this world, there might be people who share the same thoughts as you?”

Professor Antorelli did not answer. He just quietly gazed at Sofia Sub-priest.

After a long moment, he began to walk. Even his slow steps seemed to sway; he looked as if he might collapse at any moment.

“It would be best to return.”

Sofia Sub-priest followed behind Professor Antorelli.

It would be best to return.

Was it merely a simple intention to go back to the professor’s office?

Or did it carry a more ambiguous meaning of wanting to return to the past before everything was eroded?

Sofia Sub-priest did not know, but she continued to walk.

Whether Professor Antorelli lost his mind or began to crumble…

With no alternative means to act, Sofia Sub-priest could only do what she could.

Like a lighthouse illuminating the worn-down breakwater.

*

Maximilian von Adelheit could not hide his anxious expression.

His legs trembled incessantly, and his gaze was glued to the wall clock. The hands were just past noon.

“Phew… Alfred.”

In the end, he could not hold back and called Alfred’s name again. The butler Alfred bowed his head in response.

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

“Did Professor Antorelli…. really say he would come today? Am I mistaken?”

“No, sir. I confirmed it several times with Chief Curbin. Professor Antorelli said he would come today.”

Today is Saturday. Maximilian was well aware that yesterday, Friday, he had broken a few days of silence and held class.

Then, had his condition improved even slightly? Could Professor Antorelli, who had healed at least some of the wounds from Cesar’s death, also heal Laura’s wounds?

Maximilian held onto that hope.

A thread of hope remaining in his heart. Although it was a vague hope, it was a desperate situation with no other way to lean on. That was the situation Maximilian found himself in.

“Chief Curbin said he would send a vehicle…”

Typically, it takes about 30 minutes to arrive by car, but even an hour would be enough for the distance. It would be understandable to oversleep on a Saturday morning, yet even that seemed too excessive.

‘Surely, if he still harbors resentment towards me…’

Maximilian was engulfed by anxiety. What if Professor Antorelli wished for his own demise while harboring resentment towards Maximilian over Cesar’s death, in the midst of this fragile hope?

Then what would Maximilian do?

‘Please…’

What could he do? He must accept it. Maximilian despised himself for even thinking such a thought.

If Professor Antorelli hated Maximilian, he had to silently accept that hatred.

If Professor Antorelli forgave him, Maximilian would express gratitude for that as well.

However, it would be unbearable to not show up at all. To intentionally raise expectations only to keep him waiting until the end.

“Please, I implore you…”

That would be far too cruel for Laura, Maximilian’s beloved daughter. As he stared at the clock’s hands, which had long since passed one o’clock, Maximilian finally shut his eyes tightly.

And at that moment.

– Knock, knock.

Someone knocked on the door of the reception room where Maximilian was waiting. Alfred darted forward and opened the door.

“Your Excellency.”

One of the servants working in Maximilian’s mansion. Maximilian turned his head in that direction.

“Professor Antorelli has arrived.”

“……!”

Maximilian dashed out of the reception room immediately. Leading the way towards the entrance, he was followed by a few servants and Alfred.

“Has he just arrived? Where is he?”

“He’s at the front entrance. He seems to have come in the courtesy vehicle… Should we bring him inside?”

“Bring him in right now! What are you doing?”

Flames of urgency sparked in Maximilian’s eyes. Hearing his raspy yell, the servants flinched and quickly ran towards the entrance.

Thus, when Maximilian arrived at the entrance in a hurry.

“Wait, you…”

“……”

Professor Antorelli stood silently, water dripping from his soaked hair.

“Did you not come by car?”

…That’s correct.

“Then why…?”

“It was hot, so I cooled off a bit.”

“……”

Maximilian fell into contemplation.

Whether it was truly the right choice to have Professor Antorelli meet Laura.