How to Teach a Hero at the Academy Chapter 53 : Chapter 53

Chapter 53: Student Interview (3)

“Professor Argento is……”

Fleur narrowed her eyes.

“You have very simple tastes.”

It's not a space where a person can stay.

Fleur thought as she looked around Abel's office. A large round table and a wooden chair, two folding chairs of different shapes, ink and a quill pen, stained towels, and a bundle of paper stacked for sending letters…….

Abel's space consisted only of indispensable objects. And so, it was strange. A person would inevitably have so useless items.

‘That is…….’

Co to think of it, there was one useless thing.

‘……A rose.’

A glass bottle on the round table.

A yellow rose placed in the glass bottle.

It was the flower Fleur had given to Abel. Fleur, who was staring at it, sat down on a folding chair.

“Do you know the language of the yellow rose?”

“No.”

To Fleur's question, Abel answered indifferently.

“You are insensitive to trends. The ladies of high society exchange flowers instead of letters. They convey their feelings through the language of flowers rather than writing long sentences.”

The language of the yellow rose is jealousy and envy.

Fleur muttered so.

“I did not gift you a flower, Professor Argento. I rely conveyed the language of flowers. So you can throw it away. It will wither soon anyway.”

“I am not interested in the language of flowers. A flower is just the reproductive organ of a spermatophyte.”

Abel looked at the yellow rose.

He touched the withering leaves, then soon wore a faint smile.

“You gave a flower, and I am of a nature that cannot throw away what I have received. The aning contained in that act doesn't matter.”

“Even though I didn't give it as a gift?”

“There is no law that says you must only give and receive gifts. The relationship between people is not that romantic.”

What an inscrutable man.

Fleur thought, letting out a faint sigh.

There was no emotion in Abel's smile. It was not the result of his lips moving, but like looking at a curve engraved on a statue. Looking back, everything about that man was mysterious. Abel Argento, how did that man discover Monika's talent, and how did he slaughter the warships that surrounded CIAR?

‘There must be sothing he's hiding.’

She had been guessing since the mont she witnessed the cast shortening.

That Abel Argento was not an ordinary general-turned-Holy Knight.

“You seem to have many questions for .”

Abel said, resting his chin on his hand.

His long-extended hand was covering a piece of paper. It was the docunt with Fleur's history written on it.

“I am the sa. Therefore, the interview with you will not be based on the docunts.”

An inscrutable child.

Abel thought, watching Fleur closely.

On the outside, she was no different from a girl of her age. Fleur was neatly dressed in her school uniform, and while she put on a noble air, she was controlling it so as not to stand out. Not only her academic performance but also her peer relationships were smooth. Even setting aside her talent as an evangelist, Fleur was a model student.

‘But this child is the daughter of Marquis Saint-Pierre.’

What kind of disposition does a child who grew up among fanatics have?

It was ti to find out. That is why he asked a question.

“Are you not sad?”

“……What?”

At Abel's question, Fleur tilted her head.

“The mbers of your family died. They were brutally murdered. Wasn't it reported in the ‘Daily Watcher’? The students will also find out by today. And yet you seem unfazed.”

“Everyone dies.”

Fleur said, adjusting her floral wreath.

“As a mber of the Saint-Pierre family, I learned that life and death are nothing but the arrangent of the Main Gods. Soone being born, and soone dying, are both inevitable.”

Isn't that right, Professor Argento?

Right now, in so alley, cats are being born. They must be rummaging through their mother's fur without even opening their eyes. Pushing their heads in search of warmth, they will barely find a breast and suckle on their mother's milk.

Among their mother's fur, there will be swarms of ticks. Aren't tiny ticks constantly being born and dying? A person's life is similar. Soone might be born with difficulty like a kitten, and die suddenly like an insect.

Fleur whispered so.

“In the first place, the world is like that, so there is no reason to be sad. Because it must be the result of the Main Gods' design.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Of course.”

Fleur nodded her head.

Without even a slight tremor, a firm smile was etched on Fleur's lips.

“Professor Arcturus and my father will also think so. As long as one's faith is firm, one does not have to be discouraged by trivial misfortunes. There is no need for sadness in this world.”

“You……”

Abel let out a sigh.

“You certainly told . That the Saint-Pierre family wiped out Monika's hotown. Is there no lie in those words?”

“Of course. But I cannot give you evidence. My father is of a thorough nature. But it's probably not just for that reason that he avoided responsibility. Wasn't it a result of the Main Gods' will?”

If, by any chance, that's not the case……, she said.

Fleur's eyes shone as she continued.

“The imperial family, the Papacy, and the countless nobles. In other words, all the adults who hold sway over this world……. They were all either incompetent, or indifferent, which is why they weren't caught.”

“……I suppose so.”

Abel stood up from his chair.

He then walked toward Fleur. The desolate sound of his shoes filled the office. While Abel's shadow cast over Fleur, Fleur looked up at Abel with a relaxed smile. Abel's cold, sunken, blackish-blue eyes. Even while facing such a sharp gaze, Fleur was unconcerned.

“Fleur de Saint-Pierre.”

Abel's hand extended toward Fleur.

Fleur did not waver. She just stared at Abel's hand.

“You do not know life, and you do not know death.”

Thus, it touched her head.

Abel's hand rested on Fleur's head.

He stroked it.

“The Main Gods do not take responsibility for life and death. You, as an evangelist, should know. The Main Gods are outside this world, and the laws that make up this world can only be resolved within this world.”

We have to take responsibility.

For both life, and death.

Abel whispered so.

“Then what are you going to do from now on, Professor?”

Fleur asked in a quiet tone.

“Soone is killing the mbers of the Saint-Pierre family. It might be the work of soone with a grudge. That's understandable. There must be countless people who would resolve to take revenge on the Saint-Pierre family. Has our family finally faced its karma? Only the Main Gods will know the answer.”

“I will track down the culprit who killed the mbers of your family. At the sa ti, I will also investigate the evil deeds committed by your family. To impose the price that must be paid.”

“Is that also part of your duties, Professor? I'm learning that for the first ti.”

Fleur smiled softly.

She extended her hand to cover her curved lips.

The sleeve slowly slid down. The stigmata on Fleur's wrist was revealed.

“Then what should I do? Should I convey the professor's declaration to my family? Or should I ignore it as it is? What do you wish for that you are telling these things?”

“I wish for nothing. You are a girl who is not yet an adult.”

Abel calmly stepped back.

The hand that had been on Fleur's head was withdrawn.

“I am the one who wants to ask.”

Abel said with his back to Fleur.

“What do you wish from ? What did you wish for that you told . That your family has committed great evil deeds.”

“I also wished for nothing. You are just one of the common adults.”

They say the duty of an adult is to teach.

Not just professors, but all adults try to teach children.

But Professor Argento, I have nothing to learn from you. Because I know life, and at the sa ti, I also know death.

Fleur whispered so.

“──My mother, you see. In her lifeti, she shouted to everyone around her to kill her.”

And so, she died.

She ended her own life.

Fleur told Abel about Pertillier's death. A life that ended on its own after crying out to be killed. Such a death could only be realized by the Main Gods. Taking one's own life seed like a death achieved solely by human power, but it was an anomaly because it was a death that could not be understood as a human.

“If it's not a providence set by soone……, it becos unbearably futile.”

That is life. That is death.

Fleur asserted, clutching her wrist. A soft touch covered the stigmata, which was like a slash. Her overflowing blue eyes hardened, and the smile on her lips vanished without a trace.

──Because it was all, a lie.

.

.

.

“I'm here.”

Monika said, pushing open the archway door.

Abel was sitting facing the round table. The docunts scattered on the round table were in a ss. Monika picked up one of them and examined it. Fleur de Saint-Pierre's history. How unlucky to have picked this one. Thinking so, Monika sat down on a folding chair. As she always had.

“I went to the capital on an errand. So I'm a little late. Am I the last one?”

“……Yes.”

Abel nodded his head.

He gathered the scattered docunts and covered them. There was no need for her history in interviewing Monika.

In the first place, Monika would stop by the office every evening. To learn how to write, or to learn various humanistic common sense. She had been reading books with Abel by her side.

“You look tired for a change. Tomorrow the sun will rise from a goblin's ass.”

Monika rummaged through her leather bag.

‘Learn with Grandma Fruit! The Sweet and Sour Writing Class’.

She spread it open and held a fountain pen. The dictation journey with the damn grandmother was also coming to an end.

“I'm tired from talking for hours. And the sun rises in the east. It's because of Epezeria's rotation direction.”

“I know that.”

Abel drew his beloved sword.

He picked up a stained towel and wiped the blade.

Even so, it was impossible for it to beco clean. The stains on the beloved sword were blemishes that could not be wiped away.

“In any case, Monika, we also have to have an interview.”

“Well……, ask anything.”

“What are you going to be in the future?”

“If possible, I'd like to beco a Holy Knight, but even if I can't, I'll probably make a living with a sword.”

Monika shrugged her shoulders.

If she beca a Holy Knight, she could stay in the Papal States. She would own a fiefdom, and also obtain wealth. That was enough. A not-bad life. Monika believed it without a doubt. Because the problems of housing and livelihood would be solved.

“Even if you beco a Holy Knight, life does not end. Soday, you might get married to soone, and even have children.”

“Who would want to marry ? With my right arm like this.”

“What does that have to do with anything? There are plenty of people who would find you beautiful.”

“Don't tell you're talking about artists? They even taphorize a stone as a bone fragnt of the World God. I'll pass.”

What about you, Teacher, she said.

Monika asked, moving her fountain pen.

“Aren't you of marriageable age, Teacher?”

“It has already passed.”

“You do rember, don't you? You said you beca a professor at CIAR to save up for marriage funds. During the first morning assembly.”

“That was a reason His Holiness the Pope made up.”

“Anyway. Recently, it has beco frequent for people to marry around thirty. It's because the sense of ti has slowed down from mingling with the elves.”

“Elves at most live for about a thousand years. I have lived twice as long as that.”

“Oh my, is that so?”

Jokes, you see.

They're not funny when you say them with such a blunt expression.

Monika muttered so.

‘A joke.’

It might certainly be funny.

Abel thought, looking at his beloved sword. The bastard sword that had been the equipnt of the Saintess Ion Blanche. Even that had lost its light and worn out. A human who had lived on longer than an artifact. The years he had lived as a ‘Mother God's Left Hand’ were like a joke. If a mory becos too old, one will co to smile even while recalling misfortune. Even the difficult monts beco nostalgic.

He had recalled it many tis.

The end of Ion Blanche, who was nailed by the subjects.

He wondered if even death would beco full of life if he cherished it for a long ti. The woman he loved was preserved in the past, but that was okay. Abel had not forgotten for a thousand years. He could recall it as if it were yesterday.

“Monika.”

Thus, Abel opened his mouth.

“Have you ever thought of revenge.”

“……Revenge?”

“Yes. Because the past is hard to forget.”

You know it too.

Your hotown disappeared, swept away in the Mirror War.

Have you never yearned for revenge against the culprit?

Abel asked so.

“Hmm.”

The end of the fountain pen on Monika's lips.

Why is he suddenly asking such a question, she thought, but Monika answered without hesitation.

“──My mother said. Just before she passed away, she shouted at to be sure to survive.”

And so, I live.

I must live.

“I can't say I've never dread of revenge. But I won't do it. Because I shouldn't ruin my life.”

Monika knew.

That if she yearned for revenge, her own life would also collapse.

In the first place, that's what revenge was. It was an act that could not be completed without the resolve to burn one's own body.

What should I do to kill Marquis Saint-Pierre right now? I don't know. There is one clear fact. That a resolve to give up one's life is necessary. Monika thought so.

So, no.

I can't just throw away my life.

“I am the legacy of my mother and father, and the people of Sarrifis.”

Monika moved her fountain pen.

Her ssy handwriting had beco quite upright.

“So I must cherish my life. I will live very well until I die.”

Abel did not speak.

That child already knew. According to Fleur's words, Monika knew the circumstances of her hotown's disappearance.

The reason she was not swayed by resentnt must be because of the last words. If different last words had been exchanged, Monika's life would also have changed. Monika's mother had left the necessary words, and there was nothing more for Abel to advise.

“By the way, Teacher Abel.”

Monika, who had been scribbling letters, raised her head.

She looked at Abel and raised the corners of her lips.

“I have prepared a gift.”

“……A gift?”

“Yes.”

Monika nodded her head.

“I went to the capital to buy a gift. I've only been indebted to you all this ti. I've prepared sothing amazing, so please look forward to it.”

It seems he's arrived, she said.

Monika muttered, looking back at the archway door of the office.

Co to think of it, footsteps were heard. A heavy gait for a person. It was clearly Fabien's presence.

[I apologize for being late.]

As soon as the archway door opened,

[The procession was endless. My turn finally ca.]

Fabien appeared, holding a gift parcel.

A thin, angular, and elegantly wrapped parcel was in Fabien's hand.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Fabien. It must have been hard waiting alone.”

[Do not mind it. A golem does not feel hardship.]

“Still, it was on my mind. Because I left first due to the interview……”

Abel rested his chin on his hand and blinked.

The harmonious conversation stopped, and Monika and Fabien looked at Abel. A mont of silence. Monika, holding the gift parcel, cleared her throat.

“I had a hard ti getting this.”

“Thank you.”

Abel received the gift parcel.

When he unwrapped the wrapping paper, the cover of a book was revealed.

“My father said. That if you want to convey your true feelings, you should gift sothing precious.”