Episode 238: The Reason (2)

A smile spread across Blanca Roche’s face at the boy’s shout. She rushed over and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

“Gael, weren’t you bored lying in bed all day?”

“Not at all. I was too busy watching the other kids train outside.”

The boy grinned, his innocent smile contrasting sharply with his pallor, which made him look as if he were on the brink of death.

“But who is that gentleman?”

“Oh, I almost forgot. This is Sir Damian Haxen. Remember I told you about him? He’s the winner of the Helian Tournament.”

Gael’s eyes widened in astonishment, so much so that he clapped his hands over his mouth in disbelief.

“Sir Haxen! I never imagined I’d meet someone so famous in person!”

He tried to push himself up from the bed, but his frail arms couldn’t support his weight, and he collapsed back down, unable to perform even the simplest act of rising.

“Gael, don’t strain yourself. Sir Damian understands your situation.”

“Alright, I understand.”

Reluctantly, Gael gave up on getting up at Blanca’s gentle insistence.

“Sir Damian, would you mind accepting my son’s greeting?”

It wasn’t a request one could easily refuse. Damian approached the boy.

“Wow… you’re as handsome as the rumors say!”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“I heard you won the Helian Tournament even though you’re not from the Empire. How did you become so strong?”

Gael bombarded Damian with questions, his curiosity insatiable. Blanca gently intervened.

“Gael, I’m sorry, but Sir Damian has other matters to attend to. He’ll have to leave soon.”

“Oh, I see. If it’s alright, could you tell me more stories next time?”

Gael asked shyly. Damian promised he would and then left the room.

“What happened here?”

As soon as they were outside, Damian asked Blanca. She responded with a wry smile.

“It’s as you see. Gael Rondo is my son. Rondo is my late husband’s surname.”

“And where is your husband?”

“He died fighting a dark sorcerer from Pandemonium,” Blanca said, as if it were nothing.

“And your son…?”

“He’s ill. It’s an incurable disease called the ‘Ten Days’ Thirst.'”

Blanca continued calmly.

“It’s a disease that dries up all the muscles in the body, and eventually, even the blood dries up, leading to death. The cause and cure are both unknown.”

Holy power could heal wounds, even remove deadly poisons, but diseases were a different matter. Holy power could only heal injuries caused by external factors, not illnesses.

“Gael is assigned to Class 13 because he can’t attend regular classes. He’s only listed there in name.”

“I don’t understand. If he’s that sick, shouldn’t he be at the White Tower or with the Alchemists’ Guild?”

Those were the places most knowledgeable about diseases.

“We tried, but no one there could treat the Ten Days’ Thirst.”

Blanca’s lips twisted, a hint of bitterness seeping through.

“After much searching, I found someone who could treat it. Surprisingly, they were closer than I thought.”

“Who is it?”

Just then, footsteps echoed in the hallway. A woman in a white coat approached them.

“Oh my!”

The woman exclaimed in surprise upon seeing them and hurried over to Blanca.

“Blanca! You should have told me you were coming!”

“Sorry, it was unplanned…”

“I’m not mad, just a bit disappointed.”

The woman had long, sleek black hair, clearly well cared for.

“And who is this?”

“This is Sir Damian Haxen. You know of him, right?”

“Oh! The winner of the Helian Tournament! My goodness!”

The woman gushed, grabbing Damian’s hand enthusiastically.

“I’m Miriam! I’m the academy’s health teacher and a former alchemist.”

“Damian Haxen. Nice to meet you.”

“Even though it’s our first meeting, you feel so familiar! Must be because you’re so famous! Everyone’s talking about you!”

Despite her calm appearance, the woman was quite talkative.

“Ahem.”

Blanca cleared her throat, stepping between them.

“Sir Damian, you asked why my son is at the academy. Miriam is the reason. She’s the only alchemist in the Empire who can treat the Ten Days’ Thirst.”

Damian looked at Miriam with newfound respect. Being invited to the academy as a health teacher meant she was no ordinary talent. But to think she could treat an incurable disease that even the White Tower and the Alchemists’ Guild had given up on…

“Blanca, saying it like that might give Sir Damian the wrong idea. I’m still researching, and a complete cure isn’t possible yet. All I can do is slow the disease’s progression.”

Even that was an incredible feat, suggesting she was close to finding a cure for the incurable disease.

“Thanks to Miriam, I stay at the academy with my son. Without her, he wouldn’t be alive.”

“Blanca has been a great help to me too. The White Knights have been providing rare ingredients for my research.”

“What are you talking about? I’m the one who’s grateful.”

“No, really, I am…”

The two women exchanged compliments, neither willing to back down, until they both laughed awkwardly.

* * *

After exchanging farewells, Damian left the two women.

“I never imagined she’d approach me because of her son.”

Even if it was just in name, Damian was technically Gael’s teacher. Blanca couldn’t simply ignore him.

“So the White Knights’ frequent outings were to gather rare ingredients?”

What had seemed suspicious now made sense.

“Time to focus on my own tasks.”

Damian headed to the outdoor training ground where another class’s swordsmanship lesson was underway.

He concealed his presence. It wouldn’t do for a teacher to be caught spying on another class.

“Delong Mueller, huh.”

The instructor was Delong Mueller.

Unlike Class 13, which practiced the Imperial Standard Swordsmanship, this class tailored their lessons to each student’s individual style.

“That makes sense.”

Each family had its own secret techniques. Forcing everyone to learn the same style was unnecessary.

“So that’s the style of the Borja and Fortina families.”

From a tree, Damian observed Gulliver and Emilio’s swordsmanship, noting their stances, habits, and preferred techniques.

Once his analysis was complete, Damian returned to Class 13.

He was taken aback by what he saw.

“Hah!”

“Just a bit more! Keep pushing!”

The students of Class 13 were running as if their lives depended on it.

Unlike yesterday, when they ran out of fear of the stick, today they were full of energy and determination.

“What on earth is going on? Did they eat something strange?”

Damian entered, bewildered, and called out to the class.

“Stop. You can rest now that I’m here.”

Only after Damian’s permission did Class 13 collapse to the ground, panting like madmen.

“Penelope.”

Damian called for Penelope, who was lying on the ground but quickly got up and came over.

“Hey, did you hit them or something?”

“No, sir.”

“Then did you threaten them? Why are they suddenly so obedient?”

“I’m not sure myself.”

Her unexpected answer left Damian even more puzzled.

“Did they all eat something bad?”

Class 13’s strange behavior didn’t end there. The same thing happened during the afternoon training.

“Perform the Imperial Standard Swordsmanship forms three through five, then one and two, in sequence. Do it 500 times.”

After giving the order, Damian fiddled with his stick, expecting resistance from Class 13, just like yesterday. But he was completely wrong.

“Hah! Hah!”

“Hah!”

The students followed his instructions without complaint, practicing the forms diligently.

“What is going on?”

Damian watched them, bewildered by their transformation. Penelope cautiously approached him.

“Perhaps it’s the same reason as for Oliver and me?”

“The same reason?”

“Yesterday, you stood up for us.”

Damian frowned at her words.

“Surely not.”

“Absolutely. No one has ever taken our side before,” Penelope declared with unwavering conviction. Oliver, standing beside her, nodded in agreement.

“So that’s how it is…” Damian mused, casting a peculiar glance at Class 13. After a moment, he spoke with certainty.

“Rubbish.”

“What…?”

“If they were the kind to change over something like that, they would have changed already.”

Damian didn’t believe a word Penelope said. He knew exactly what kind of people Class 13 were.

“Enough talk. Pick up your swords.”

“What?”

“You said there’s someone you want to beat, right? You can’t train like everyone else if you want to defeat them.”

Damian pulled a staff from a pocket dimension and continued, “From now on, you’ll spar with me one by one. Don’t expect me to stop, even if you beg for mercy.”

His stern warning made their faces go rigid. But only for a moment. They quickly shouted back at him.

“Thank you for your guidance!”

* * *

From that point on, Damian dedicated all his time to training Class 13.

By day, he drilled the students, and by night, he tracked the traces of Sla. Five days passed in this relentless routine.

Finally, the day of the annual evaluation exam arrived.