Chapter 23
Chapter 23
Saint Jan’s University has no garden. As mentioned before, this is an important point, so it should be emphasized twice.
Therefore, even after somehow holding the pair of secateurs prepared by the administrative office, Ivan had nothing to do.
However, Ivan, who had now decided to live his life, or at least tried his best, had no other choice.
This is the story of when he was cutting down a tree with secateurs.
“What are you trying to do? You’re making it worse than the bonsai in my house.”
“Hmm?”
Enrique snickered from behind him. Ivan looked up at the sky and at the tree for a moment, then turned back to look at Enrique.
“Isn’t it bedtime?”
“Are you surprised to see a beauty who is not a sleepyhead? You must be really tired.”
(TN: It’s daytime btw, Enrique is a vampire)
Ivan, a normal person who has never felt unexpected affection for someone over 70, lowered his head at Enrique’s words.
Enrique’s eyebrows furrowed. She took a deep breath and said,
“Your job is a gardener?”
“For now.”
“It certainly sounds like a good thing for your mental health. It’s not bad, but my prescription is a little different.”
Elizaveta probably thought she would take care of this bearded monster’s (30s) mental health as a leisurely activity and give some pocket money.
But Enrique thought differently. This guy needed practice interacting with people.
Not with axes or guns, of course. Strictly speaking, that’s included too. But in any case, it’s about normal human relationships.
“Follow me. I needed some help.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m starting as a guest lecturer in the Knight’s Faculty today. I was already an honorary professor, but I was so bored.”
“Knight?”
“Unfortunately, there is no assassin faculty.”
Of course, the world doesn’t need a university that teaches such things.
This is why Ivan found himself glaring at the freshmen in front of the podium.
Episode 23. The Saint and the Lumberjack
Saint Jan’s University is an internationally renowned university with state-of-the-art facilities for this era.
Examples include the Faculty of Theology, which looks like a church that has been moved intact, the Faculty of Magic, which mimics the environment of the Kalion Military Academy, and the Faculty of Physical Education, the Knight’s Faculty.
The freshmen were busy looking around with their mouths open. They looked like chicks, which reminded Enrique of the old days, and she laughed.
In the gym, where large rings and various training equipment were neatly arranged, Enrique, who had climbed onto the podium, struck the lectern with a loud bang and shouted,
“Welcome, kids!”
As if to assert her dominance, the freshmen began to look at the professor they had never seen before.
The Knight’s Faculty required course, [Understanding Melee Combat 1].
It would be an important course, as it is a required course for all freshmen in the Knight’s Faculty, but the slender woman looked unfamiliar.
The students who were trying to remember the faculty list could be heard murmuring.
Enrique grinned and puffed out her chest.
“My name is Enrique. Enrique Sergeevna. If you think you’ve heard the name, that’s right. It’s me.”
“Member of Hero Party!!”
“Eek!!”
“Shadow Blade!!”
Enrique laughed as she heard the scattered screams and cheers. Yes, that’s it. This is what fame is. This name value that even the royal family dare not trifle with.
Enrique continued with a playful smile on her face.
“The only thing I can teach you this semester is one thing. Defeat! You are the ones who have chosen to fight at the forefront with weapons, and this class is the first gateway to preparing for that!”
A warrior with a sword can never win every fight. Defeat will inevitably come one day. And that defeat often comes with death.
Therefore, you must get used to it. To defeat. It must be learned before learning the skills of fighting.
How to defeat. How to survive even after defeat.
And if possible, how to assess the opponent’s strength before defeat.
“It’s not difficult to teach all of you one by one, but the class time is too tight. So I’ll divide you into groups according to your skills.”
Even though they are all freshmen, they cannot all take the same class.
Of course, it is impossible to teach a student who entered first place and a student who entered with a reserve number at the same level, is it not?
The better you fight, the harder the class you should take.
Therefore, division is necessary. It would be too difficult to teach 50 people in three hours in the first place.
“Well, freshmen. If I fight with you, I won’t be able to assess your skills. They’ll all be over in one move.”
Even to her arrogant words, no one dared to refute.
The Hero Party is the one who slaughtered the Demon King and the Seven Dragon Lords. In other words, they are the strongest in the United Kingdom.
“So I’ll implement eye-level education for you. Here is our assistant!”
When the students followed Enrique’s gesture, they soon saw a monster standing with his arms crossed in the shadows.
Sapphire glowing eyes, sharp features, and a stoic expression.
But a beard that covers the entire lower jaw, making it impossible to tell his age.
In addition, old work clothes and a towel around his neck. (It was a gardening set prepared by the administrative office in a hurry.)
When a big question mark appeared above the students’ heads, Enrique grinned and said.
“The assistant is this university’s gardener. I invited him in a hurry this morning. Well, I’ll tell you the profile of this assistant.”
Age is 34. (Most of the students were shocked by this.)
Title is gardener. (Two students were shocked by this.)
No income, living on the country’s welfare pension, a poor pauper. (Since Lieutenant Colonel Petrovich was officially dead, he had no way to receive a military pension. He lived off donations while running an orphanage.)
“This assistant will assess your skills. I will score you while watching you fight, and I will finalize the division at the end of this class.”
“I have a question!”
A student raised his hand. He was dressed neatly in a light tracksuit with a neat-looking face. He looked like a nobleman’s son.
Enrique nodded, and the young man spoke with a sneer on his face.
“What if that poor gardener is too badly injured?”
“What? Ahahahahaha!!”
Enrique burst into laughter with tears in her eyes.
“Then I should give you a prize! I’ll give you extra points depending on how badly you injured the assistant! Ahahahahaha! My goodness!”
“…?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, students. I’m not doing this because I want to see someone die. But at least maintain some courtesy. Whether it’s courtesy towards seniors or those who have experienced more than you.”
“If you want to live,” Enrique finished with a laugh.
—
During that time, Ivan was glaring at the students.
It was not surprising that he was invited to be an assistant for the practical evaluation.
After all, it is “common sense” for the first class of the academy to be a skill evaluation.
It’s unknown why a practical evaluation is included in the first hour of the college curriculum, but that’s probably because the educational system in this pre-modern fantasy world is primitive.
Anyway, there are four worth paying attention to.
Oscar, Isabelle, Yuri, and the muscle giant sitting in the back. The escort of Ecdysis.
Wait, why is that guy sitting? Is he a student? Is he shameless?
It’s bizarre to have a 40-year-old muscle monster sitting among students who are about half his age.
That guy’s name is probably Mord, right? Mord Erikson. I remember meeting him during my service. He is one of King Einar’s closest aides.
He must have been a guy with some sense. Now, retired and coming in as a ‘freshman.’
“And that kid.”
Yuri. Yuri Frank. The top freshman in the Knight’s Faculty. Highest in swordsmanship evaluation and a perfect score on the written test. Full scholarship student.
That kid’s behavior is also suspicious.
As soon as he saw her, the kid showed strange behavior, such as quickly turning her gaze away, sweating, or fidgeting. (She even gasped when she heard the word gardener.)
His eyes grew sharper.
‘Reincarnator…’
If not, there is no reason to be afraid of him, who has a completely ordinary and harmless appearance.
Two red underlines were drawn on Ivan’s mind.
“Well, who wants to go first?”
After Enrique’s long explanation, the many students began to look at each other.
It is understandable. It would be quite embarrassing for a young man in his early twenties to reveal himself among students he had just met.
It is not that they lack skills or fear being humiliated by facing Ivan. It’s just that they’re shy.
How ridiculous.
Ivan silently glared at the students.
Then, one student sitting in the back raised his hand.
It was the 40-year-old muscle giant, Mord.
“We meet again, don’t we?”
“…Hmm.”
“And no matter how I look at you, you look like someone I know.”
Mord laughed heartily, loosening his shoulders.
“Come on up. Let’s finish this. Oh, and. If I win.”
Mord jumped up to the ring in one leap and said.
“I’ll shave you.”
“Fight! Mr. Erikson!!”
Isabelle, who had been looking at Ivan with trepidation, gasped and suddenly shouted.
It was a bitter betrayal by the child of the Hero Party.
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