WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B

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Chapter 23: The Saintess and the Woodcutter (1)

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Saint Yansk University had no gardens. Ivan had reflected on that before, but it was important enough to emphasize twice.

So even after he somehow ended up holding the pruning shears the administration had prepared for him, Ivan still had nothing to do.

Still, Ivan had decided to start living a life now. At the very least, he had resolved to try his best.

That was how he came to be butchering a roadside tree with pruning shears.

"I watched you for a moment, and you've turned it into something worse than a bonsai at my house."

"...Hm?"

Enrika taunted him from behind. Ivan looked at the sky for a moment, then at the tree, before turning back to look at Enrika.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Are you surprised to find a beauty who isn't a sleepyhead?"

"You must really be short on sleep."

As a normal person who had never felt anything but respect for anyone more than seventy years his senior, Ivan shook his head at Enrika's words.

Enrika's brows drew together sharply. She forced herself to calm down before speaking.

"So you're a gardener?"

"For now."

"It does seem like it would be good for your mental health. Not bad, but my prescription is a little different."

Elise had probably intended for this bearded monster, a man in his thirties, to take care of his mental health through a leisurely hobby while earning a little pocket money.

Enrika thought differently. This guy needed practice dealing with people.

Not dealing with them using an axe or a gun. Though, strictly speaking, that would count too. Still, she meant ordinary human relationships.

"Come with me. I was just in need of an extra pair of hands."

"...Hm?"

"I decided to work as a visiting lecturer for the Knight Department starting today. I was already an honorary professor, but I've been so bored."

"...Knights?"

"Sadly, there wasn't an Assassin Department."

Of course, the world did not need a university that taught such things.

That was why Ivan found himself standing at the lectern, glaring at a group of freshmen.

Ep. 7. The Saintess and the Woodcutter.

Saint Yansk University was a prestigious international university with remarkably modern facilities for this era.

That was true of the Theology Department's main college, which looked as though an entire cathedral had been moved there, the Magic Department's main college, modeled after the environment of the Kalion Archipelago, and the Knight Department building in the physical education department.

The freshmen were busy wandering around with their mouths hanging open, taking everything in. They looked exactly like chicks, and it brought back old memories. Enrika snickered.

In a gymnasium where large rings and all kinds of training equipment had been neatly arranged, Enrika climbed onto the platform, smacked the lectern, and shouted in a ringing voice.

"Nice to meet you, brats!"

Maybe it was her way of establishing dominance. The freshmen began staring at the professor they had never seen before.

A required major course for the Knight Department, [Understanding Close-Quarters Combat 1].

It had to be an important class, since every Knight Department freshman was required to take it, but the slender woman was completely unfamiliar.

The students murmured as they tried to remember the faculty roster.

Enrika grinned and puffed out her chest.

"My name is Enrika. Enrika Seregeyevica. If that name sounds familiar, you're right. I'm that person."

"The Hero Party!!"

"Ahh!!"

"Shadowblade!!"

Enrika grinned at the scattered cheers and shrieks. Yes, this was it. This was what fame meant. A name with enough weight that even the royal family could not dare cross her carelessly.

With a playful smile, Enrika continued.

"There's only one thing I can teach you this semester. Defeat! One day, each of you will choose to pick up a weapon and fight at the front. This class is the first gate you must pass to prepare for that!"

A warrior who carried a sword could not win every battle. Defeat would come someday, without fail. And more often than not, defeat came hand in hand with death.

That was why they had to get used to it. To losing. They had to learn that before they learned the skills of battle.

How to lose. How to survive even after losing.

And if possible, how to judge an opponent's ability before they themselves suffered defeat.

"Teaching every one of you individually wouldn't be difficult, but class time is too tight. So I'll divide you according to your skill levels."

They might all be freshmen, but that did not mean they could take the same class.

It was only natural. How could someone admitted at the top of their class be taught at the same level as someone who barely got in from the waitlist?

Those who fought better had to take harsher lessons.

That was why they needed separate classes. Teaching more than fifty students in three hours was too difficult to begin with.

"All right, freshmen. If I fight you, I won't be able to judge your abilities. It would all be over in a single exchange anyway."

Despite her arrogant words, no one dared object.

The Hero Party had slaughtered the Demon King and the Seven Dragon Generals. They were the strongest people in all the Allied Kingdoms.

"So, I'll provide education tailored to your level. Here is our teaching assistant!"

Following Enrika's gesture, the students turned to see a strange man standing in the shadows with his arms folded.

Eyes that burned a vivid blue, sharp features, and a stiff expression.

Then there was the thick beard covering his entire lower face, making his age impossible to judge.

On top of that, he wore worn work clothes and had a towel draped around his neck. It was the gardener outfit the administration had hurriedly prepared.

As enormous question marks appeared over the students' heads, Enrika grinned.

"The teaching assistant is this university's gardener. I invited him on short notice this morning. Now, let me tell you his profile."

He was thirty-four years old. Most of the students were horrified at that.

His job was gardener. Two students were horrified at that.

He had no income and was a pitiful pauper living on the state's welfare pension. Since Colonel Petrovich was officially dead, he had no way of receiving a military pension. He had been getting by while running an orphanage on donations.

"This teaching assistant will assess your abilities. I'll grade you as I watch you fight, and by the end of this class, I'll finish dividing you into groups."

"I have a question!"

One student shot a hand into the air. Light athletic clothes, neatly groomed features. He was obviously the son of a noble family.

When Enrika nodded, the young man opened his mouth with a mocking expression.

"What if that poor gardener gets seriously hurt?"

"What? Ahahahahaha!!"

Enrika burst out laughing, tears gathering in her eyes.

"Then I'll give you a prize! I'll give extra credit depending on how badly you hurt the teaching assistant! Ahaha! Good grief!"

"...??"

"Don't misunderstand, students. I'm not doing this because I want to watch someone die. But you should at least show some manners. Whether it's manners toward someone older than you, or someone who has lived through more than you have."

"If you want to live," Enrika finished with a smile.

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Throughout that time, Ivan had been glaring at the students.

It was not surprising that he had been brought in as a teaching assistant for a practical assessment.

After all, it was "common knowledge" that the first class at an academy was an evaluation of one's abilities.

He had no idea why a university curriculum would begin with a skills assessment, but that was probably because the educational system in this premodern fantasy world was primitive.

In any case, there were four people worth watching.

Oscar, Isabelle, Yuri, and the muscular monstrosity sitting in the back. Aesidis's bodyguard.

No, why was that guy sitting down? Was he sitting there because he was a student? Did he have no shame?

A muscular monster in his forties sitting among students half his age was bizarre beyond measure.

That guy's name was probably Mord. Mord Erikson. Ivan remembered encountering him during his service. He was one of Great King Einar's closest retainers.

He had seemed to have some sense, at least. He should have retired and been training disciples by now, yet here he was enrolling as a freshman.

'And that kid.'

Yuri. Yuri Frank. The top freshman in the Knight Department. She had received the highest score in the swordsmanship evaluation, a perfect score on the written examination, and a full scholarship.

Her behavior was suspicious too.

The moment she saw him, she had been quickly looking away, breaking out in cold sweat, and fidgeting strangely. She had even been horrified when she heard he was a gardener.

Ivan's gaze sharpened further.

'A transmigrator...?'

Otherwise, why would she be afraid of someone with such a perfectly ordinary and harmless appearance?

Two red lines were drawn beneath her name in Ivan's mind.

"All right, who wants to go first?"

Once Enrika's lengthy explanation ended, countless students began looking at one another.

It was understandable. Showing themselves off among unfamiliar students in their early twenties would be rather embarrassing.

They were not afraid that they lacked skill or that they would humiliate themselves fighting Ivan. They were simply shy.

Ridiculous.

Ivan silently glared at the students.

Then, a student sitting in the back raised a hand high.

It was Mord, the muscular freak in his forties.

"We've met before, haven't we?"

"...Hm."

"And no matter how I look at you, you seem like someone I know."

Mord rolled his shoulders with a series of cracks and laughed heartily.

"Come up here. We ought to see this through. Ah, and if I win."

Mord leaped onto the ring in a single bound and said,

"I'll shave you."

"Mr. Erikson, go!!!"

Isabelle, who had been anxiously watching Ivan, suddenly jumped and shouted.

It was the stinging betrayal of a Hero Party member's child.

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Footnotes:

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