Chapter 135: Answer , Human (4)
The waves at dawn were fierce.
The sea remained unchangingly black. Even though the sun revealed itself at the edge of the horizon.
A man stood with his back to the Black Sea. At a glance, he felt fragile. There was no strength in his expression, and his body was slender. His silver hair, close to gray, fluttered weakly, and the focus within his dark blue eyes was blurry.
The man asked.
Toward the boys and girls.
What have you prepared, and also what have you resolved.
It wasn't a question difficult to answer.
Only, the boys and girls pondered. While opening their mouths one by one, they tried to give an answer to another question.
Regarding what kind of human that man, Abel Argento, is.
“The number of vigilantes is a little over thirty.”
First of all, Demian opened his mouth.
Inwardly, he thought. That Abel Argento is not a knight. That he is not one who follows the duty of a knight.
“We conducted a little training and guided them regarding formation. They are ard with weapons manufactured by Roberta, and are on standby preparing for the battle.”
Then what is a knight?
Demian thought he didn't quite know. Unlike the Capital rampant with knights, Portsmouth was a land where knights did not exist. Thus, he ca not to know. The duty of a knight that used to be solid beca fragnts and scattered, and Demian predicted Abel would also be like that.
“……I learned a lot.”
That Abel Argento is a broken knight.
“The young n here haven't learned martial arts particularly, but because of that, their bodies were sturdy.”
In order to turn away from the duty of a knight,
One would naturally have to know the duty of a knight.
“Well……, the Tactical Controller is operating normally.”
Ernst opened his mouth.
Inwardly, he thought. That Abel Argento would have known. The fact that he would shoulder a role equivalent to his grandmother.
“I will be able to issue commands from the camp through the communication function. I will be able to support with a certain degree of auxiliary spells as well. As much as my divine power allows…….”
How much did that man know?
Ernst thought he didn't quite know. Did he know the fact that his grandmother's talent was inherited? Did he know that he regards it disapprovingly? Then he is indeed a nasty gentleman, Ernst thought while scratching the back of his neck.
“Please be careful not to bite off more than you can chew, Professor.”
Abel Argento will not beco a good teacher.
“To , Professor looks quite suspicious. Since I have a mountain of questions once the work is done, please be prepared.”
In teaching a disciple,
He doesn't seem to insist on being a correct person himself.
“Twenty bombs. That was the limit.”
Roberta opened her mouth.
Inwardly, she thought. That Abel Argento would consider it wrong. That he would consider it incorrect for her, who fears weapons, to make weapons.
“I am keeping them at Pnakotic-nim's dwelling. As soon as monsters invade, I will hang them on balloons and fly them. After that, I will take shelter with Pnakotic-nim.”
Does reform require weapons?
Roberta thought she didn't quite know. The gathering maintained with Marco da Materazzi as the pivot, ‘The Wounded Gunshot’, aid for a revolution not accompanied by weapons. Roberta also agreed with what Marco aid for. If it's Abel, he might regard it as a re prank, but,
“You rember, right? I won the bet.”
Abel Argento will surely return the prank seriously.
“I am contemplating what wish to make, so wait. Because I must see Professor getting flustered.”
Therefore, he must be an adult.
Since he cannot comfortably be right nor wrong, and cannot even regard a prank lightly.
“Preparations to contact the Spirit's Nest are finished.”
Lizer opened his mouth.
Inwardly, he thought. That Abel Argento's thod is different from his adoptive father, the mage among ‘The Mother God's Left Hand’, Marchen Blackmore.
“I cannot guarantee the success probability. I will try to purify it without trouble as much as possible. Of course, the decisive role will be taken by Monica, but…….”
Is that what a Hero is?
Lizer thought he didn't quite know. If it were his adoptive father, he wouldn't have looked into sothing like the Spirit's Nest. Without room to rally the residents, he would have just left after subjugating the monsters. Abel seed to be looking at a distant place unlike his adoptive father. For instance, sothing like the future of Portsmouth.
“Because I have seen many places more wretched than here.”
Abel Argento is colorless and odorless.
“So sohow it will work out. I wanted to see Professor fighting the Intelligent Species, but it is a pity I cannot see it.”
He must certainly be emotionless,
But for so reason, he seed to be trying hard to be thoughtful.
“Uh, well…….”
Lastly, Monica opened her mouth.
“I don't really have anything to report.”
Monica crossed her arms.
She glared at Abel with pursed lips.
Abel must have personally witnessed the situation in the anti. He must have watched Demian training the vigilantes, Ernst wrestling with the Tactical Controller, Roberta manufacturing bombs one after another, and Lizer and Monica discussing with the Spirit's Nest as the topic.
‘Even so, the reason he tells us to report is…….’
It must be because he wished for the students to recite it themselves.
‘That won't do.’
TRUDGE, it went.
Monica took a step.
She had no intention of obediently following Abel's intent. If students have to recite what they prepared themselves, what they resolved themselves, because she thought Abel should also naturally do so.
“Please tell us too, Teacher.”
Thus, Monica opened her mouth.
Standing face to face with Abel.
“Please report to us too, Teacher. What you prepared, and what you resolved.”
“I have nothing to prepare.”
Nor anything to resolve.
Abel muttered like that.
“Sweeping away the monsters including the Intelligent Species……, that is not a difficult task for .”
TAP, it went.
Abel's hand rose onto Monica's head.
“There is no need to prepare otherwise, and no need to resolve either. That is why I beca able to teach you gentlen. Since I have prepared countless tis, and solidified my resolve.”
I do not fear seeing corpses.
Abel spoke like that. While looking at Demian.
I do not suffer while recalling the deceased.
Abel spoke like that. While looking at Ernst.
I have no room to feel fear toward weapons.
Abel spoke like that. While looking at Roberta.
“And also…….”
Abel's hand moved gently.
After stroking Monica's head three or four tis, he turned around holding a faint smile.
“I do not agonize over the thod of offering condolences either.”
It is a lie.
Looking at Abel, Monica thought.
“I know the problems you gentlen face. Soone will be worrying about the duty of a knight, soone about unwanted inheritance, soone about non-violent reform. Soone must have been struggling for a while due to losing a close friend…….”
Whatever happens is fine.
To , it is a problem that is fine whatever happens.
Abel spoke like that.
“I am rely a teacher, not one who gives an answer.”
A teacher is one who hands a question.
One who waits until the disciple gives an answer themselves after thrusting tricky and nurous problems at them.
If it is right, grade it as right.
If it is incorrect, grade it as incorrect.
Until you gentlen give an answer, I have no choice but to rely wait.
“You said whatever happens is fine.”
You said whatever answer we give doesn't matter.
If it is right, it is just right, and if it is incorrect, it is just incorrect.
To the right one, you thrust a new problem, and to the incorrect one, you just make them solve the sa problem until they beco right.
“Just like a machine.”
To a machine, there is no room to prepare, nor room to resolve.
Abel muttered like that, and,
‘No, you cannot beco a machine.’
Monica thought with her mouth closed.
Holding the rope and dragging the rowboat toward the waterside, Abel looked like a machine at a glance. Because he was silent to the end. Because he didn't show any sign of struggling in the slightest.
But Monica knew. That Abel is only pretending to be a machine, and must be struggling because he cannot beco a machine.
‘Because you are…….’
Because he was like that even in the Saint-Pierre territory.
Because he prioritized saving the Saint-Pierre territory over saving Fleur, and intended not to have lingering affection after realizing the fact that he couldn't save Fleur. Because he shouldered the most difficult role himself.
“Gentlen, there will be no need to say long words.”
Everyone return to your respective positions.
Check what you prepared and solidify your resolve again.
“Even if you get hurt, do not die.”
Looking back at the students, Abel spoke, and,
“──Let's go.”
Turning her back to Abel, Monica spoke.
‘Abel Argento, you are indeed──.’
Inwardly, she thought.
That Abel Argento indeed,
Must be the one agonizing over duty, inheritance, reform,
And mourning the most.
* * *
It was a arduous voyage.
Crossing the sea with a single rowboat was vast. The black-dyed seawater was waving endlessly. Abel endured the current on the swaying rowboat. Standing at the edge of the hull that rocked consistently, he rely went against the ocean current while rowing indifferently.
“There will be no need to say long words.”
It was arduous, but it wasn't boring.
Abel wasn't the only person on the narrow rowboat.
“Everyone return to your respective positions.”
“Check what you prepared and solidify your resolve again.”
“……Even if you get hurt, do not die.”
Ahahahaha──!
A woman burst into laughter.
At a glance, she looked like a halo.
A small halo was forming the woman's shape. It was because she offered her life in the middle of a magic circle. Although the woman's body, countlessly divided through mana, was blurry, Abel knew her na.
Old colleague and Inspector, Vanessa Spencer.
“For you to say such things, it's really refreshing. Abel Argento, you were the most naive guy in our Holy Knights, you see.”
“It even gave goosebumps.”
HMMP, it went.
A man snickered.
At a glance, he looked like a monster.
The man's body was discolored black. Ooze was flowing through the cracks of his skin hardened like rock, and the rotting body looked close to rotten wood. Abel had not forgotten the man's na either.
Old colleague and Strategist, Maurice de Olfrange.
“Tell , Abel. Are you imitating . Your polite tone has beco quite indifferent. Even though you always spoke softly.”
“Both of you are noisy.”
Abel sighed.
Holding a soft smile, he stared straight ahead.
At both ends of the body, Vanessa and Maurice were sitting.
He must know. The fact that the two people are nothing more than illusions. Even so, Abel looked happier than ever. He rely handed a question while laughing like a boy.
“What brings you here?”
You were quiet for a while.
At such a whisper from Abel,
“That's obvious. As long as you are alive…….”
Vanessa spoke in a cheerful tone, and,
“……Right. There will be no event where we disappear.”
Maurice responded in a serious tone.
“So tell , Abel.”
“Try babbling for once.”
Thus, Vanessa and Maurice asked simultaneously.
“Why are you still alive?”
“Why do you refuse to die.”
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