Elite Instructor at a Third-Rate Academy

22 – A True Story Like Arson ☆

It was a sweet nightmare.

Viselle realized immediately that this was a dream because Louis was alive. Her older brother had returned after a long absence. Ilaria had told her to pretend to be asleep, but she didn’t want to avoid him for no reason, so she continued reading her book.

“Are you shameless enough to still be here?”

Louis pushed open the slightly ajar door and entered. Since he was also a member of the Lada family, he didn’t dare lay a hand on Viselle. However, it had become a daily occurrence for him to start hurling insults after drinking alcohol. Viselle flipped through the pages of her book with a nervous feeling. She desperately tried to ignore him, but the words that cut through her bones poured out relentlessly.

“You’ll live hiding behind the title of a spy’s daughter.”

─ You would be a good person if it weren’t for alcohol.

Viselle tried to calm her heart, thinking that her brother wasn’t the problem, but the alcohol was.

“I’m sorry.”

She knew that any other words she said would only invite harsher insults.

“Are you going to leave like some cheap woman, just picking up any man?”

─ Our mother wasn’t a prostitute.

“Brother, even if-!”

Louis would forget everything that just happened by tomorrow morning. It was useless to argue with someone who was already intoxicated to the point of not remembering what they had just said. Since she wasn’t intoxicated, she had to yield at this moment. Viselle wordlessly closed her book. Her trembling eyelashes were visibly shaking.

“If you were in a place like a noble’s mistress, just like your mother, you could have anything.”

─ Stop, please stop.

Janelle, the mistress of the Lada family and the mother of Louis and Kenneth, clearly wasn’t Charde’s fault for dying. Viselle’s mother was just a commoner who couldn’t refuse the proposal of a powerful noble.

Of course, it was unfortunate that Janelle fell into despair and died after several years. However, as long as the system of polygamy continued, that was the pain that a noble’s wife had to endure. In her inner thoughts, Janelle had screamed until her throat was torn apart.

─ It was a tragedy caused by your mother’s clumsiness, not my mother’s fault.

“Our family is half inherited, so if you go to any man and spread your legs, it’s all over!”

Viselle couldn’t bear the extreme insult and her rage burst out. Even if it was a word spoken by someone who had lost their sanity due to alcohol, she couldn’t let it slide and began to gnaw on her lips. A familiar voice rang in her ears. Ping── tears formed.

“Hyung.”

– Younger brother, can you comfort me first?

As the younger brother approached, Louis opened his arms brightly and hugged him, avoiding his face. It was a warm embrace. Kenis, my only blood relative and true family. Whenever I heard those words, I couldn’t control my tears.

“You still haven’t drunk enough, should I pour you more?”

– Younger brother, I’m also hurting so much, can’t you take care of me first?

“Kid, what are you saying about someone who can’t even drink alcohol!”

“Alright. Then, shall we make a bet on who wins right now?”

Kenis took out a gold coin. Louis laughed casually and showed a warm smile. He was a good person as long as he didn’t get drunk. That’s why I disliked the sober Louis even more. I couldn’t hate him comfortably. When tears eventually ran down my cheeks, my little brother and I locked eyes. He only spoke with his eyes.

– I’ll put him to sleep first.

Bisalle put her hands gently together and kneaded her eyebrows.

“Me too.”

The younger brother took the drunk older brother to the study. How much time had passed? Darkness fell, morning stars rose, dawn broke, and around the time he couldn’t overcome sleepiness anymore, he heard the sound of the door opening.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, I just woke up.”

Bisalle had many things to say. She wanted to collect all the abusive words that the older brother had spewed out in his absence and throw them back at him. However, for some reason, she wasn’t angry. She just wanted to stay still like this.

“Louis is a worthless person.”

Kenis said that and fell silent. Bisalle couldn’t bear the sorrow that came rushing in late, so she quietly shed tears. She didn’t know. She could never realize that she cried more beautifully than any other woman in the world. She always cried in front of her younger brother. He never exposed his younger sister’s occasional sadness to anyone.

“Oppa…!”

“It’s not little mother’s fault either.”

“I know… I know… but the tears keep coming.”

– If I want to cry in Oppa’s embrace, will you hug me?

“In that case, Bisalle.”

“Yeah, make me stop crying.”

“I’ll stay here until you finish crying.”

“But Oppa is tired too… I don’t know when the tears will stop.”

Kenis collapsed against the wall and sat on the floor.

“It’s the most interesting thing when you cry.”

“What will Ilaria say if she sees?”

“As long as you leave the door open, no one will think it’s strange.”

“What if the older brother… wakes up from sleep?”

“It’s your turn to get drunk this time.”

“Yeah, I think it’ll be nice to drink with my little brother!”

“I’m not sure if I can handle the stares from other men.”

“No, they’re just impressed by us.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m serious… I’m sure of it.”

“We have plenty of mirrors at our house too.”

“Okay. I’ll stop teasing you about your self-consciousness since you don’t like it.”

Belisale, who had stopped crying, asked me to leave for a moment. She wanted to change her underwear. She bit her tongue, feeling pathetic for worrying about such trivial things. After getting ready and opening the door, my little brother had disappeared. She finally admitted it. This is a dream. She accepted that these were illusions of memories that flickered on the surface of her subconscious.

“Miss?”

In a hushed voice, sharp reality broke in. Belisale opened her eyes and reached out with both hands into the air.

“Ilaria, I’m awake.”

“I sent you flowers from Rammelt Gas.”

“Warren?”

“Yes, it’s Birdfoot.”

Warren is a delicate man. Because he always responded with flowery words, Belisale thought of the vivid colors of a Bonoleth.

─Until we meet again.

She still felt compassion for the man who loved her. Because they were so alike in the fact that their love could never be realized.

[#22 – Saint]

Among the women she had met here, Kennis felt most comfortable with Senyt Caeline.

She didn’t know what the Saint thought of her. Caeline was more of a woman of few words, and it was rare for her to initiate a conversation. She had mostly been walking without saying anything. To get along well with these people, who were completely different from commoners, Kennis had to remember one thing. Don’t bother trying to convince them, and don’t give them any chance to convince you. As long as she followed this, there were no problems.

─She looks like Belisale, doesn’t she?

It wasn’t her appearance, but her inner self that was similar. Suppressing everything and enduring, it was just like her younger sister. If you understood her sensitive emotions, which changed constantly, she would be grateful as much as that. She was able to get along well with women like this.

“I think it was around here.”

Suddenly, they were in front of the physical education storage room. The slow-moving Saint was coming from a distance. She couldn’t see her expression, but she could feel her energy. Does she know? That every time she arrived here, she expressed her negativity with her whole body? If Caeline intended to work for the Central Church, she had to learn how to hide her expressions and demeanor.

─Should I suggest it to the Headmaster?

Kennis pondered as she changed direction. She didn’t know what had happened to Caeline before in Evon Diqio. She promised not to ask, and she didn’t want to undermine her trust by needlessly investigating.

If she found out even later, the Saint would categorize herself as an untrustworthy person and never forgive her. She had experienced the narrow-mindedness and stubbornness of the congregation enough, fighting in the erosion zone until she was sick of it.

“There’s a grotesque figure right in sight as soon as you open the door, so it’s understandable to dislike it.”

Some say that Caeline lost her sanity to her predecessor, but that’s just a baseless rumor. If that were really the case, the Church would have sent an inquisitor. The religious tribunal is just as severe as the military tribunal. If Evon Diqio had received the punishment of having his limbs severed, it means that he retired unscathed, which also means that he couldn’t even molest her.

“There.”

Walking past the gym storage room, Senite called out and motioned to stop.

“Yes.”

Halting, I replied as she gripped the iron bars, standing about five steps away.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

—I just had a meal.

“A little.”

“There’s a place nearby that makes excellent galettes.”

With that, she lowered her head, hiding her blush and only holding onto the iron bars. Without saying a word, Kennes walked ahead. He had figured out what facilities were in Ireland over the past few days. The habit of making maps wherever he went didn’t change just because he became an instructor. Seeing the surprised look from the saint, he stood in front of the restaurant.

“Please wait for a moment.”

Knowing she would feel guilty, he bowed his head. Eventually, the saint handed him one of the galettes she held in her hands.

—Thank you.

The Empire’s confectionery business was one of the main sources of income for the Academy. If she was a saint, her taste buds would have been accustomed to the sweet treats made by the nuns since childhood. Originally, these galettes were eaten with salami, eggs, and other ingredients, but the one she handed him just now had whipped cream on it, like some kind of crepe.

“Thanks to this, some of the guilt has subsided.”

Kennes was about to ask why but stopped. The parishioners knew they had to wait until he spoke. Afterward, the saint walked to a place with banana trees. After parting ways as usual, he pondered on what Senite had said.

—What guilt is it?

He didn’t know the answer, but it seemed that the saint was overly burdened with responsibility.

“C-8 needs Senite Kaelin.”

Right now, Selena couldn’t control a single thing. Although he thought she would be shy and run away when he turned to her side, now she clung to him with baby talk every time they met. Seeing the interest in this change from those around him, it was clear that he didn’t know how to deal with a third-rate opponent. It was meaningless to touch the pride of those without pride.

—Should I report to the headmaster and move the gym storage?

Kennes chuckled, making a sound like the wind escaping. It was not worth the effort. He had been in military life for a long time. Even if he was a technical soldier, he wouldn’t change the existing system for his personal benefit, even if it was just for one private. Although Kennes understood Senite’s suffering even at the academy, he wouldn’t close or move facilities because of that.

“They’ll probably ask for understanding just because she’s a saint.”

In any organization, the majority is guaranteed the power to oppress the minority beyond disputes. Reflecting on sacrifices, he understood. Countless war heroes who devoted themselves for the Empire. Before Rhotellon, they were nothing more than politically packaged hoodlums. After burning, they end up as kindling with the trees.

—War heroes received glory in proportion to their sacrifices.

From Noble mtl dot com

So, what about Saint Senite Kaelin of C-8?

“Unilateral sacrifice.”

Her pain means that nothing can be changed due to that in the academy. Otherwise, if she opened the door, she wouldn’t have left the monstrous presence right in front of her sight.

—What if Senite suggests it?

Indeed, it’s doubtful whether she, a parishioner, would execute it. Rather, she would blame herself for not overcoming her weakness. Like Vissale, she was likely to be a woman with a convoluted inner self, coupled with religious beliefs.

“What should individuals abandoned by the system do?”

He once again tapped into the depths of his inner turmoil. Was it truly necessary to go to such lengths for Senite Caelin alone? Perhaps, if she were the woman he loved, his blood kin who cherished him, it might be plausible. However, the saint was just a student, and he was nothing more than her homeroom teacher. There seemed to be no reason for it.

“Well, there’s no need to go this far.”

Everyone thought so, and it felt like sacrifices were becoming a tradition. It seemed as if the time to escape the beginning of the year after nearly a decade had come. A real-life arson, but one had to weigh the gains and losses of the inevitable arson.