30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue

Chapter 2

2 – 2. Retired Soldiers Want to Rest.

Ivan, who had been waiting for the ending with a comfortable heart, thinking only of escaping this tiresome otherworld and enjoying a cool can of beer, finally realized at this point that all his experiences were nothing but ‘background settings.’

And, the genre of this game

was not just a strategy simulation to withstand the fierce war against the demon army.

This wasn’t the typical RPG where a hero organized a party to overthrow the demon king’s tyranny.

Rather, it was a ‘Academy Story,’ he realized.

Up to this point, Ivan had been immersed in this alternate reality for 30 years.

Episode 2: Retired Soldier Wants a Break.

The Saint Basilica Orphanage was one of the wealthiest in the kingdom.

Typically, for an orphanage to be wealthy, it needed a few conditions.

Either it had a favorable location within the administrative influence of the capital.

Or it held political symbolism, such as being the ‘first orphanage for war orphans’ when the war-torn kingdom began its reconstruction.

Surprisingly, if the orphanage director had connections with influential members of society and high-ranking nobles, along with fulfilling some other miscellaneous criteria, they could create a rebelliously affluent organization called a ‘wealthy’ orphanage.

By the way, the Saint Basilica Orphanage met all these conditions.

“Hmm.”

Ivan furrowed his brow, absentmindedly stroking the goosebumps rising on his arms.

If there was anything he had learned from his long military service, it was not to ignore the ominous feeling that something bad was about to happen.

“Kids, spread the salt.”

“Yes, sir!”

Watching the children skip away giggling, he heaved a deep sigh.

It had been four years since the demon king died, yet the game wouldn’t end. Was there a problem with an epilogue being this long?

Was there another condition? It couldn’t be something like the ending condition being ‘the hero grows old and dies,’ right? He wanted to go back sooner than that.

By this time, Ivan was painstakingly digging through fading memories, diligently compiling a list of ‘things to eat when he returns to Earth.’

With the anticipation of a sergeant waiting for the day of discharge, desperately.

From Noble mtl dot com

Canned beer, raw cuttlefish, honey butter chips, nachos with cheese sauce, tuna mayo, kimchi stew.

Oh, damn it, underline kimchi stew three more times. It’s been 30 years since he last had kimchi. You can’t leave out kimchi stew or stir-fried kimchi.

And all kinds of alcohol except vodka and wine. If possible, he wanted to drink Northeast Asian liquor.

Living among monsters who eat pickled cucumbers and pickled mushrooms as snacks makes you miss even the exaggerated bubble pops.

“Phew…”

Ivan, moving with little strength, suddenly stopped.

In his office, where no one should be, he heard a sound. An adult’s sound, and one well-trained as a soldier.

The eyes that were relaxed just a moment ago sharpened. Then, cautiously, he took a step forward. This time, not silencing his footsteps, but trying to be as natural as possible.

Thump, thump.

As if he hadn’t felt anything, emphasizing his vulnerable state, he walked in a straight line to the wooden door with the sign ‘Director’s Office.’

‘Just one person.’

His senses were already in the realm of animals. Anyone who had rolled with the Extinction Unit for several years could perform such acrobatics.

The popular movement behind the wooden door paused abruptly. Gauging his position, he slowly put his hand on his hip and slightly bowed his waist.

Even if the door were to open and the opponent shot a gun, he could still deflect the trajectory away from his head. It was a long-standing habit.

“Long time no see, senior!”

As soon as he turned the doorknob, a stranger cheerfully shouted. It meant there was no intention of attack. Ivan, upon hearing the voice, quickly identified the person’s identity and relaxed his shoulders.

As the door opened completely, a neatly dressed soldier waved at him.

“How have you been? Oh, I should have visited more often!”

“You should have come through the main gate.”

“Oh, have we ever worked that way?”

The soldier chuckled and stepped back shortly. His gaze briefly brushed over Ivan’s waist and sleeves.

“Business.”

“It’s urgent! Let’s have a drink first, share some old stories, and then we can talk about business!”

While saying so, he pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket.

Carefully, with his gloved hand, he placed the letter on the table.

High-quality paper and well-made wax seal.

Stamped firmly on it was a chrysanthemum flower.

As soon as Ivan confirmed it, he reflexively stepped back from the table.

“Uh, is that a sacrilege?”

“Why would Colonel Kirilov summon me…?”

“He’s now the Minister of the Interior. When you retired, you were just a major.”

“So why is he looking for me? If I remember correctly when I retired, he clearly said…”

“Yes. He told you to live quietly without attracting attention. It’s impressive that you left believing that. The princess hasn’t eaten for three days, by the way.”

He chuckled and pushed the letter, which had been pushed to the end of the table, back towards Ivan.

“Read it. If it’s a letter from the princess, it’s worth bidding on at the antique auction.”

“….”

Cautiously reaching out as if disassembling a magical device just before it explodes, Ivan carefully opened the letter, being mindful not to crumple the wax seal.

With a satisfying sensation, the letter envelope gently unfolded. When a letter with a mix of gold threads appeared, his hand abruptly stopped.

“Why like this? She could have just asked about my well-being, couldn’t she?”

“….Stubborn.”

Elizaveta Kirillovna Krasilov. During the height of the front lines, she was affectionately known by the slightly more familiar nickname, ‘Riza of Iron.’ It’s not like her to send envoys just to ask a simple ‘How are you?’

Might as well be a woman who wrote poison on the paper.

Surely there’s no poison here…

“Ah, just read it.”

Ivan hesitated once more before summoning the courage to open the letter.

A neatly written letter, as if typed on a typewriter, with elegant penmanship, emerged.

[Vanka, how have you been?]

Already, it’s unpleasant to read. Ivan swallowed dryly.

[Occasionally, I heard news of you. Seemed like you were doing well.

I thought it was fortunate for the first few months, but since then, it hasn’t been.

Unfortunately, I’m not doing well right now.]

Even if you don’t know who she is, she must be paying the price for making this woman ‘not do well.’

[Do you remember when we struggled to cultivate the garden together?

We hoped to have a tea party together, but you left without even looking back.]

The time when they burned down the demon residential area, established a military government, and exploited the ‘peaceful’ demons?

Of course, he remembers.

[After that, I had a moment of thinking like this.

Well, fine. Even if you’re not here, Vanka, this garden that we worked so hard to cultivate won’t fall apart.

Winter has passed, and when the snow melts, the season of blooming flowers will come.

Then, maybe someday, you might come to see the garden you created.]

Ivan murmured unknowingly.

Me? In the palace? Why…?

[But the seasons are turning, and winter is coming again, Vanka.

The people are full, and the lazy ones no longer pay attention to the garden.

Between the overgrown weeds and wild beasts, flowers no longer bloom in the garden.

A colder and quieter winter than last year is coming.

Somewhere, on the dying shrub, you can see something covering it.]

Now he understood the purpose of this letter.

Before reading the last paragraph, Ivan involuntarily sighed deeply.

[Vanka, the woodsman I trust the most.]

If there’s a wish, I’ll surely repay it threefold.

If the price falls short, we’ll compensate with our friendship.

And if even that doesn’t suffice, we’ll settle with our memories.

The kingdom still requires your dedication.

Just as it has been until now, onwards too.

With affection, Kirillovna.

After carefully reading the brief letter several times, he turned his stiffened gaze away, pressing his temples firmly.

“Any response?”

“The situation first.”

“It’s quite challenging. The military administration pleads daily for withdrawal, while Prince Alexander is eager to divide and sell off the country into five parts. And our ‘Great King’ remains seated, saying nothing as usual.”

The man continued, his voice tinged with discontent.

“But guess what! Remember the Saint Janskr University? The international institution established during the war.”

“What about it?”

“I got hold of this year’s list of new students and faculty in advance. Would you like to see?”

Handing a notebook to Ivan, he continued, “A saintly figure took a teaching position in theology. And aside from that… the students, well, familiar names just keep coming, don’t they?”

-Daughter of the warrior Maximilian, Isabelle.

-Son of the knight Gilles, Oscar.

-Daughter of the sorcerer Veolgreen, Elphira.

-Daughter of the berserker Aynar, Aesidis.

-Apprentice of the rogue Enrique, Lucia.

And even this year’s newly appointed professor, Saint Patricia.

A picture-perfect assembly of ‘Hero Party Members.’

“And wouldn’t you know, our illustrious Sovereign abolished the age restriction for Saint Janskr University admissions, right? Just said that as long as you take the entrance exam, age doesn’t matter, and this is the result!”

Saint Janskr University, a prestigious institution renowned throughout the Unified Kingdoms, disregards the age of its applicants.

Regardless of being too young or too old.

Fairly and harshly, irrespective of age, it opens its doors to anyone who passes the excruciatingly difficult entrance exams, interviews, and conditions such as recommendation letters.

Here, a problem arises.

After killing the Demon King, the party of warriors each set off toward their hometowns.

Some became nobles, and some sought refuge. However, if there is one commonality, it is this:

Every member of that party is revered as a legendary hero in their respective hometowns.

Each of their actions could potentially cause international conflicts, especially for those who sent their children abroad for education.

“Our prince intends to sell the country, oh, what a world. Just when such an incident occurs in the capital? What will happen now?”

If anyone in this group dies or gets injured, it would be the end of the country.

“What should I do then?”

“I’ve reserved a position on the faculty. Not as a professor or assistant, but as a gardener. Well, universities do have trees, don’t they?”

The man spoke, tracing the names on the list with his fingers.

“Keep an eye on them for just three years, until these guys return to their own countries without a scratch. It might be shorter if they drop out.”

At this point, Ivan’s calculations were complete.

Colonel Kirillovna… in other words, our princess, Her Highness, urgently needs an agent who is not currently stationed in the military.

Using an active-duty agent might leave traces, risking exposure to the Prince’s faction. On the other hand, selecting any retired agent poses the risk of not knowing who may have ties to the Prince’s faction.

However, ta-da, there was a perfect individual located near the capital.

Unquestionable loyalty, proven abilities, and a clear position after retiring, completely unrelated to politics. Someone who could be contacted quietly.

That miraculous figure was none other than Ivan.

Quietly waiting for the ending, ready to cross over to Earth and savor the delights of modern civilization, Ivan suddenly realized an astonishing fact at this moment.

Instead of the warrior party celebrating a ‘happy ending’ after the Demon King’s death…

In the backdrop of a chaotic international situation and a gloomy domestic political scene, suddenly, the world’s dignitaries are eagerly enrolling their children in this ‘international university’ that has popped up out of nowhere.

After a long 30 years, a genre familiar to every citizen of South Korea came to mind…

“Oh, damn.”

“…What?”

Kim Sunwoo, who had been dormant for many years, suddenly woke up.

“Damn. Wasn’t this supposed to be an academy?”

“Senior…?”

The man looked at Ivan with cold sweat dripping from his forehead.

It was a rare sight even during his active-duty days. A vehement expression of unleashed anger.

And, naturally.

During his active duty days, as someone who knew him well, my body stiffened at the steady flow of vitality emanating from him.

Sweating coldly, just as I was about to ponder what those words meant.

Ivan closed his eyes tightly, and with great effort, he restrained and controlled the boiling anger of Kim Sunwoo, saying,