Chapter 107

Chief Curbin and Sofia Sub-priest had left, and a day passed.

I finally crawled out of the staff dormitory and stepped outside.

– Splash. Splash.

The sensation of taking steps felt oddly unfamiliar. I tried my best not to walk awkwardly.

It had been a long time since I walked through the academy courtyard. There had been over a week, almost two weeks, of absence. It was only natural to feel awkward.

The academy was as bustling as ever. Students were wandering around just like before, and even on a rainy day, students passed by, trying to reach the indoor training hall….

They stepped on puddles and laughed, passing by me.

“Um…! Professor Antorelli!”

“Ah, Professor! Hello!”

Sometimes, there were students who recognized me. Most of them were first-year class A students. As I looked at the students who bowed their heads, I nodded my head in return.

“Are you teaching this week?”

“Teaching….”

Thinking back, I hadn’t taught at all. As I reflected on that fact, I reluctantly nodded my head.

“Yes. I think so.”

“I see… thank you!”

“Hey! We’re late!”

“Uh…! Professor! We’ll be going now!”

The students, smiling brightly at me, waved their hands and ran off. I noticed the droplets splashing with each step they took.

Splash. Splash. The sound of rainwater on the lightly wet ground echoed.

– Swish—!

“……”

Even amidst that, the rain was pouring endlessly. It was almost as if the academy would be washed away.

Standing in the middle of the academy courtyard, I gazed at the puddles forming around me and fell into deep thought.

The truly remarkable thing was that I had nodded my head. Whether I would teach or not was not something I could decide.

To be precise, it was not something I could decide at this moment. I was uncertain whether I was in a position to make any decisions at all.

So, there it is. I had no choice. A person had died.

A person died. Two weeks ago. It was neither Cesar nor Carmondorf. It was the death of my own self.

Thus, I had no authority over myself to make choices. I believed that I could not decide anything.

Then, what about the nodding I did just a moment ago? When asked if I would teach this week, my positive response was….

What made me nod my head was the promise I had with Helena.

Perhaps my choices were already coerced into being for the sake of the students? Had my self been subjected to Helena for a long time?

In the end, that’s it. My self had not originally died. There were only deficiencies.

And then, I realized it.

At least, I was taking responsibility—.

“Haah….”

At that moment of realization, I felt an extreme sense of relief. I stepped forward without hesitation.

Just as iron sharpens iron, people complete each other.

So, I should go to the professor’s office. Although I hadn’t planned to handle any work as a professor starting today, the impulse to meet Sofia Sub-priest was overwhelming.

That was the only way to fill my deficiencies.

* * * * *

“Hmm….”

It’s raining heavily. Sofia Sub-priest thought to herself as she stared blankly out the window.

The rain fell. As if determined to flood the courtyard, the Lord was pouring more rain than in previous years. Sofia Sub-priest quietly closed her eyes.

Professor Antorelli did not come today, either. Having visited Professor Antorelli’s dormitory yesterday, she thought he would at least show his face in the professor’s office today.

However, he did not come. The fact saddened Sofia Sub-priest greatly.

Professor Antorelli’s powerless gaze. Eyes that had lost their light. His lifeless gestures, expressions, and glances kept replaying in her mind.

It was tragic to see him pretending to be normal. Yesterday, Sofia Sub-priest had wanted to grab Professor Antorelli and cry, but she had to pretend to be ordinary for his sake.

That made her heart ache even more. It was painful to realize that this was the minimum effort needed for Professor Antorelli to live even a little of a normal life.

As she felt that chilling pain, Sofia Sub-priest suddenly thought this:

‘Why am I going this far….’

In fact, all this trouble would be solved if she simply cut off the attention directed toward Professor Antorelli. If she focused solely on her duties as a teaching assistant and her life of faith, at least Sofia Sub-priest would be liberated from this pain.

But the reason she couldn’t do that was….

‘Ugh….’

It wasn’t sympathy or deception disguised as kindness.

It was simply the desire for the suffering Professor Antorelli to live a little happier.

Sofia Sub-priest was one of the few people around him who knew about his past. It was something he had revealed after long conversations with her.

The fact of knowing was significant. Those who did not know that a worm was gnawing at the inside of a deliciously ripe fruit would only drool over the outward appearance of the fruit.

Knowing about his past brought Sofia Sub-priest heart-wrenching pain.

At the same time, it became an uncomfortable truth she could project onto Professor Antorelli. Although it pained her to know, she did not resent him.

So, the strange feeling she felt was also because she was aware. Every time she faced Professor Antorelli, the tender feeling that made her raise her head a little.

It was all possible because she understood. Sofia Sub-priest thought that way.

‘I wonder when he will come….’

As she quietly watched the falling rain, it was no surprise that she yawned. With Professor Antorelli absent, Sofia Sub-priest could yawn freely.

– Thud.

“Sofia Sub-priest.”

“Haah…. Huh?!”

A familiar voice suddenly rang out. Hearing it, Sofia Sub-priest unknowingly made a strange sound and turned her head.

There stood Professor Antorelli, looking at her with eyes filled with hope, a little different from yesterday.

“Head Priest…?”

He was standing with the door to the professor’s office open, looking at Sofia Sub-priest.

“I’m here.”

“Ugh…!”

He must not have gotten better. He hadn’t been freed from the unknown shackles.

But what mattered was that he was here. It meant that he still had some regard for Sofia Sub-priest and the students. Sofia Sub-priest approached him with a beaming smile.

“Um, uhm… are you okay?”

To think her first question was such a clumsy one. Sofia Sub-priest felt like hitting her head against something, but she had no other suitable question to ask.

In response to her, Professor Antorelli silently nodded his head.

“I think I feel a bit better.”

Even though she knew there was a worm gnawing at his heart.

“…Hehe.”

Sofia Sub-priest smiled.

It was a somewhat different smile from yesterday.

* * * * *

The rain intensified. It seemed the entire world would soon be filled with water.

Maximilian von Adelheit, watching the scene through the window, gradually turned away from the window and slowly walked toward the opposite side. Behind him, Alfred, the butler of the Adelhaid Ducal House, quietly followed.

“Have we received a response from Chief Curbin?”

“Yes. I carefully made a proposal to Professor Antorelli, and he delivered the positive response. He seems to be coming this weekend.”

“I see.”

Gratitude washed over him. Maximilian found himself amusing for feeling that way.

A person’s heart is truly fickle; relationships that were once hostile tend to resolve over time. Regardless of how others felt, at least Maximilian no longer looked down on Professor Antorelli.

Such a change struck him as amusing. It was a person he hadn’t even glanced at before; how did it come to this? A self-deprecating smile surfaced on Maximilian’s lips.

“How about the counseling and compensation for the retired soldiers?”

“It seems that the organization and legislation related to that matter will be handled by Jericho of the Imperial Knight Order. He informed me that he would be visiting the mansion soon to discuss that.”

“Jericho is reliable. Good work.”

Alfred, with his thick white hair, bowed deeply. Leaving the old butler behind, Maximilian halted in the wide corridor of the mansion.

“Alfred.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“How did you handle Carmondorf?”

“We sent the remains to the national crematorium. Chief Curbin said that it would be cleaner to cremate them as soon as possible.”

“What about that bug agent from the Federal Intelligence Service?”

“…It seems there will be chaos in the Federal Intelligence Service soon.”

“I see. Thank you.”

Expressing a brief gratitude to Alfred, Maximilian resumed his steps.

In the end, Chief Curbin has drawn her sword as well.

It was to be expected. Maximilian had known all along that things would flow this way.

Chief Curbin requested his cooperation in identifying the bugs hidden behind the names of the imperial nobility, and Maximilian had readily accepted her request.

Now unburdened by the weight of being a Major General of the Imperial Defense Force, Maximilian could not wield a sword like Chief Curbin. Instead, he engaged in a battle of wits.

‘If we wish to discuss the treatment improvement and compensation for so many retired soldiers… the imperial family will likely resist.’

While they wouldn’t openly obstruct, they would likely give subtle hints or apply pressure. If they were anyone else, they might back off in the face of such imperial weight.

But Maximilian was different. He had no intentions of backing down.

This was for the deceased Cesar Li and also for the despairing and sorrowful Professor Lucio Antorelli….

“Haah….”

Maximilian sighed. His diligently moving footsteps stopped in front of a firmly closed door within the mansion.

As he let out a trembling sigh while looking at the door, Alfred carefully spoke up.

“Your Grace. The lady….”

“Quiet.”

“…….”

Due to Maximilian’s firm words, Alfred had no choice but to close his mouth. His words carried that much weight.

After taking a deep breath for a moment, Maximilian slowly raised his hand. His tightly clenched fist reached the door.

Now, if he moves this hand. If he gently knocks on the door with this fist. It was something he had done habitually for a long time.

“…Damn it.”

Maximilian could not bring himself to knock on that door.

He was afraid. He was afraid to knock on this door, afraid of what words might come out this time, and afraid of the resentful words from his beloved daughter that would pierce his heart.

Maximilian opened his tightly clenched fist and slowly splashed his face.

His white hair and beard flowed along with his hand. Maximilian, still cradling his face, slowly crumbled down.

Towards the floor. Towards that infinitely low place.

His tall figure stooped, and ultimately, Maximilian, with his head deeply bowed.

“Ugh…. Hah, huff….”

Quietly. Trying to suppress the sound as much as possible, he wept.

He hadn’t even knocked on the door yet. He hadn’t heard any venomous words from his beloved daughter behind this door yet.

“Ugh, hn….”

Having experienced such situations multiple times already, Maximilian had come to imagine that pain without needing to experience it again. He had learned to feel that pain without hearing it.

The pain without substance.

It was phantom pain.