Damn Academy - Chapter 166

[Episode 166] Homecoming

To say there was no pressure would be a lie. I was, after all, joining the ranks of twelve Knights of the Platinum Shield, a group that included swordmasters and past heroes by name.

I had saved not the Duchy, but Lady Vivi alone. Strictly speaking, I wasn’t on par with those legendary figures. There was even concern that I could be criticized for insufficient merit.

After the ceremony concluded, I learned that this was not an accolade given only to national heroes. It was, perhaps, a type of honorary title awarded for special deeds.

With the grand event behind us, Silveryn and I headed back to our lodgings.

Inside the gently rocking carriage, I studied the shield absently.

While it had aesthetic value, its practicality was almost nonexistent.

Silveryn, with an expression of contentment, broke the silence.

“How does it feel to be the protagonist?”

“I’m not quite sure. To say I stand on the same ground as the other swordmasters who received this shield… it feels like we’ve gone too far.”

“The shield isn’t just for those who are strong and powerful. It’s given for deeds worthy of respect, regardless of their magnitude. Among those who’ve received the ‘Knight of the Platinum Shield’ title was even a common peasant who had never held a sword.”

It seemed there was no particular selection criterion, considering swordmasters, peasants, elders, and youngsters alike had received it.
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“How much do the people of the Duchy even know me to offer their respect? And I’m still so green.”

“To be precise, it’s given for moving the hearts of the Duchy’s citizens.”

“…Moved?”

“The knights in the Memorial Hall. Didn’t they gaze at you with eyes full of respect and admiration? You’ve literally lived out the knights’ romantic fantasy of ‘saving the princess.'”

I was unaware. Yet, when you consider the ordeal Vivi and I went through… it was far from romantic.

“It seems tales about me have been embellished.”

“Correct. There are many rumors about you, mostly good ones… I was heatedly… surprised to hear from a tavern drunkard that the Duchess and you had your eyes set on each other in the swamp and were bound by a betrothal vow.”

I paused, swallowing hard as Silveryn’s face reflected more murderous intent than shock from recalling that time.

Hastily, I changed the subject.

“I’m only now truly understanding how dear Lady Vivi is to everyone. To cause such a stir across the nation.”

After all, an orphan could disappear one day and no one would bat an eye.

“That’s right. Oh, and by the way, I’ve got another interesting piece of news…”

Silveryn pulled a yellowed scroll from her bosom and handed it to me.

I unfolded it immediately.

Win the [Knight of the Platinum Shield] title from the Duchy.

Obtain the [Witch’s Blue Heart] from the city of Claridyum.

Earn the [Golden Merit Medal] from the Empire.

“What is this?”

“It’s the second test from Zeldan Hart.”

“…”

I remembered passing the first test with Silveryn’s training in Weisel. Having briefly forgotten about it, the next challenge was now in my hands.

“Zeldan considered attaining any one of those three as proof of exceptional mental virtues. Congratulations.”

“So… I’ve passed?”

“Yes. Zeldan held the Duchy’s award in the highest regard. The rulers of the Duchy seem to have an exceptional eye for potential, perhaps due to the Goddess’ blood in their veins.”

An unexpected achievement had emerged without even trying.

“You share that opinion about the Duchy’s rulers, Teacher?”

“Given their history, it seems so. A few who received the Knight of the Platinum Shield title later became renowned across the continent. Perhaps the Duchy considers hidden qualities as part of their evaluation.”

There were indeed thirteen Knights of the Platinum Shield, and after receiving the title, three became swordmasters… Her words weren’t wrong.

A thought suddenly crossed my mind.

“Is there anyone my age who has passed this second stage?”

Silveryn’s lips sealed shut at that question. Her focus drifted as if swimming through memories, and a faint smile, whether of scorn or simple pleasure, played across her lips.

“…Yes. There’s one more.”

***

Along the grand corridor encircling the cathedral, Swordmaster Calios, walking beside Silveryn with hands clasped behind him, spoke up.

“That fellow has been asking about you.”

Silveryn replied with surprise in her voice.

“That’s interesting. I’ve never met him.”

“That headstrong lad isn’t interested in lessons from a swordmaster; he kept asking about you.”

Silveryn pondered the intent behind these inquiries, though no clear answer emerged.

“Why does he take an interest in me?”

“Admiration, most likely. A few years back, he caught a glimpse of you near the Imperial Royal Academy. He said your image has been etched into his mind and refuses to fade.”

“…”
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“He claimed, with great seriousness, that you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, hah!”

Silveryn showed no reaction to these words.

“It seems there’s more to it than that.”

“Likely so. Regardless, you might want to verify it yourself, right? After all, he’s someone the Order is investing heavily in.”

“…When the opportunity arises, I might.”
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“It looks like he’ll come to you directly, in any case.”

“A dreadful joke.”

Calios smirked.

“It’s no joke.”
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With that, their conversation ended, and they parted ways. Having finished her business with Calios, Silveryn had no further reason to linger in the corridor.

Yet, Calios’s prophecy manifested sooner than expected.

On the way back, a boy stood at the end of the corridor, hands clasped behind him.

Silveryn sighed with annoyance as she saw him.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, the boy turned, recognizing who approached.

His hair was a deep shade of gray, styled to reveal a clean forehead and handsome features. His eyes were bold and confident, and he was slightly taller than Damian.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Archmage Silveryn.”

She crossed her arms, observing him slowly from head to toe.

“Who might you be?”

Following the proper imperial court etiquette, the boy bowed and spoke.

“I am Enoch Vasilius the Third. I believe you’ve heard my name before.”

He didn’t falter in front of the archmage. His confidence wasn’t feigned.

I was familiar with the name. After all, it was the successor chosen by Zeldan Hart, known as the bearer of the holy sword.

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Seeing the boy reminded Silveryn of Damian. It was instinctive. Whenever she saw a boy of that age, she thought of her student reflexively.

Her voice was indifferent, stripped of emotion.

“So, what brings you here?”

He seemed taken aback by her blunt reaction, but soon filled his expression with confidence anew.

“I’ve admired you for a long time. This moment has been years in the making for me.”
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“Unfortunately, I do not favor such encounters.”

“I apologize for my presumption. Please forgive my rudeness.”

There was no sign of genuine regret in his voice. He seemed to be driven solely by his own agenda, regardless of the other’s feelings.

“I will ask one last time. What is your purpose?”

“Thank you for granting me your time. I understand you’ve fought alongside Zeldan Hart on the battlefield.”

“I’ve had a few encounters with that old man.”

“And you’ve also shown great prowess in battle against the Inferno Golem, the hero of the North.”

“…”

I couldn’t quite grasp the point of his monologue.

Enoch continued, reciting Silveryn’s accomplishments as if he had memorized her entire past. His enthusiasm was remarkable.

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“And last year, you took your first disciple.”

“…”

“I’m well aware of what it means to be the first disciple of an archmage. However, I’ve heard that your disciple is inept in swordsmanship and slow to develop.”

“Who said such a thing?”

“I cannot disclose that.”

She inwardly scoffed. Though she hadn’t mentioned it, she could easily guess who had left such a scathing review. Not everyone in this holy city was in her favor. There was at least one who would eagerly lend a hand to drag her down. That individual had been appointed to oversee Enoch’s education at the recent council.

“So, what’s your point?”

“Has your friend passed ‘Zeldan Hart’s Test’?”

Silveryn remained silent. Anticipating as much, Enoch spoke,

“It’s truly regrettable from my deep admiration for you. I’m preparing for the third test; perhaps I could be of assistance to your friend.”

“How kind of you.”

Now she understood what Enoch was driving at.

“I regret to inform you, but I believe the archmage will soon discover the one prophesied star.”

“Hmm.”

He was circling around the question: was choosing Damian as a disciple the right decision?

Moreover, it was surprising that Enoch knew of that prophecy related to Silveryn. Only Saint Fleurence should have known. Confirming that the prophecy had leaked to this brat made her feel an odd sense of betrayal by Fleurence.

Enoch gazed directly into Silveryn’s eyes, a boundless pride for his uniqueness shining through. She could sense Enoch’s ego: he considered himself a singularly exceptional being.

***

Silveryn faced Damian. He had set aside the shield he received as a reward and was absorbed in thought.

In truth, she wasn’t planning to reveal Zeldan Hart’s test until next year. Even for someone growing rapidly, it wasn’t easy to accomplish something that would draw the Duchy’s attention.

It didn’t matter if others overlooked him or if his growth was slow. Damian was already advancing quickly enough.

Despite this, Damian continued to leap beyond Silveryn’s expectations, breaking new ground. Was this how her own mentors felt when faced with her magical progression?

It was astonishing and commendable, yet bittersweet to see him change so quickly.

Damian seemed completely oblivious to her feelings, immersed in his thoughts. Finally, unable to hold back, he spoke up.

“Teacher, what’s the name of that guy?”

Apparently, the idea of someone else achieving milestones before him was gnawing at him. Considering the time he had wielded a sword, Damian should have been far behind. Now and then, a wildness sparked in his eyes, like a winter sea harboring a dormant volcano. Observing him, even Silveryn felt she might be swallowed whole. The Damian of now would tear out the throat of Enoch without hesitation if he stood before him.

“You might meet him at the Academy exchange meet. Lean closer.”

“…?”

Damian inclined his head toward Silveryn’s whisper.

In the moment he let his guard down, she wrapped her arms around his waist in a swift embrace. Caught off guard, Damian coughed violently.

“Cough…!”

A crack sounded from his waist due to the tight grip. He struggled, but her hold was unyielding.

“Teach, my back—”

“No, you’re mine. I won’t let go.”

She held on firmly for a while.

“Ah, it hurts.”

Pondering for a moment, she relaxed her grip slightly.

“Yeah, the waist is important.”

Damian could finally breathe easily.

“But, my student.”

“Yes?”

“Why haven’t you ever given your teacher a kiss?”

“…Excuse me?”

Damian froze, blinking as if to confirm he had heard correctly.

“I’ve done so for you; shouldn’t there be an exchange?”

Damian floundered for a while, mouth gaping soundlessly like a fish. Silveryn kept a displeased watch on his eyes, as if to protest.
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“How could a student be so forward with their teacher…”

“It’s just a light show of affection between a master and disciple. Why make so much of it?”

“…Is this common between masters and disciples?”

“Well, if you want, it could be.”

“But… Teacher, with all the eyes watching… behind you.”

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“Behind?”

Silveryn turned around. Through the back window, she saw a carriage of the Duchy, close enough to nearly cause a collision if one wasn’t careful.

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Damian seemed to recognize whose carriage it was.

“It appears to be Lady Vivi’s carriage.”

And with that, Silveryn heaved a heavy sigh.