# Enhanced Translation
"You want me to take over your classes? Well, I... I can certainly give some special lectures for my former student. How many weeks?"
"The rest of the semester."
"You absolute crazy bastard."
After reflexively cursing, Enrique gathered her thoughts.
This guy isn't irresponsible enough to suddenly drop all his classes because he doesn't feel like teaching...
No, he's actually the very embodiment of responsibility...
What's going on?
As this thought crossed her mind, she remembered something. When something happened to this guy, it was usually official business.
"Did headquarters assign you another operation? You're not exactly at the age to be running field missions anymore. Unless there's a civil war breaking out among the dwarves or something."
"Nothing's certain yet."
"If it's not certain, why is the commander going to the field?"
"Because it's not certain."
If the operation's outline were clear and the command direction certain, there would be no need for him to be directly involved. Assigning an appropriate level of troops would be sufficient.
As he had reflected before, he couldn't possibly intervene in every incident in this world.
But in this situation—one clearly entangled with the "main story" where the distinction between friend and foe remained unclear—he couldn't leave it to field agents.
It wasn't the Annihilation Squad's way to expend agents for tactical objectives that even the commander couldn't be certain of.
Moreover, there was one more advantage to the commander taking the field personally.
"Krasilov is weak in foreign intelligence, after all."
"Wow, you cruel bastard..."
Enrique gaped in amazement as she grasped his meaning.
If the intelligence commander personally showed up on the front lines saying, "I came myself because your foreign intelligence is weak," what would happen to that branch?
Enrique shook her head, silently offering condolences to some unknown field headquarters.
"Well, if that's the case, I can teach the kids in your place. It's not difficult."
"Thank you."
"What days?"
"Wednesday, Thursday, Friday."
Enrique tilted her head at Ivan's response. Why three days...?
"Five credits each. I appreciate it. I'll send you the course materials by this afternoon."
"W-wait. Three? Three classes? Five credits each?"
"Yes. And Isabelle, Oskar, Elfihera, Asidis, Yevgeny. These five will be applying for external study credit this semester. Please handle that process as well."
"Hey, wait! What? What?!"
"Thank you. I'll compensate you."
Fifteen hours a week. Including her own classes in the Knight Department, that made eighteen hours. That was almost enough to fulfill the minimum semester credits.
Enrique shouted at Ivan as he opened the door to leave.
"You really are an absolute crazy bastard!!"
The professor's office door closed coldly.
20. Autumn in Tilles
The train rattled along.
Unlike Niigata, Japan, which had been a snow country, crossing the Krasilov border felt like returning to summer.
Through the window, endless blue meadows stretched out under the clear noon sky.
"This is autumn. This is proper weather. Good grief."
Isabelle, sitting across from him, had been grumbling like this since they left the outskirts of Krasilov. It was the typical complaint of foreigners experiencing Krasilov's winter for the first time.
Ivan turned his gaze out the window without much thought. Good visibility today, he noted.
It was common sense that when the Hero Party moved to a new location for the next scenario, bandits or horse thieves would appear.
Being a sensible person, he kept his arm casually resting on the windowsill, ready to grab the axe handle at any moment.
The same scenery continued endlessly outside the window. Tilles was a country of vast plains and gentle hills. This landscape would continue until they reached the urban area.
Having lost her initial excitement and now looking somewhat bored as she stared blankly out the window, Isabelle suddenly spoke.
"You were friends with my father, weren't you?"
"To some extent."
Since Maximillian was basically kind to everyone, and Ivan treated everyone similarly, it was difficult to say whether they were truly close.
However, as Ivan had spent a considerable amount of time with Maximillian, he nodded subtly.
"If you were friends, you were friends. What does 'to some extent' mean?"
Isabelle grumbled once more and then cast her gaze out the window, as if measuring some point in the past.
"Returning home makes me think of my father. Did you know I resented him so much at first? Good heavens, his only daughter was going to study abroad, and he just shut himself away in the mountains, not even coming out... I had so many bad thoughts, said so many terrible things..."
Isabelle lowered her head with a gloomy expression.
The conversation he had with Einar came to mind—about the curse placed on those who kill the Seven Dragon Lords, about the corruption of the soul.
Maximillian had personally slaughtered two of the Seven Dragon Lords and the Demon King. Yet until the end of the war, he had never once shown signs of madness.
How remarkable was that? Isabelle couldn't even imagine. She couldn't begin to fathom how terrible the death throes of an evil god would be when poured upon one who had killed a deity.
So she simply thought: it was childish resentment. She had lived without want as the daughter of a hero, receiving more love than her abilities deserved.
The daughter of the man who saved the world shouldn't resent her father. After all, the world he wanted to save included her world too.
It was a complete sacrifice—giving oneself entirely.
That was the path she would have to follow someday. Not as the hero's daughter, but as a new hero. Steeling her resolve, Isabelle raised her head.
"Now I remember the old stories my father used to tell me. Since I don't know when I'll see him again, I try to recall them, even if I have to force myself. As his daughter, it would be shameful if I only remembered his face from statues."
Isabelle smiled brightly with a determined expression.
"It would be awkward if we met again someday and I felt uncomfortable. Somehow, I feel like we'll meet again. Especially traveling with you."
"...Hmm."
Ivan nodded expressionlessly and turned away.
A reunion with Maximillian.
Not exactly a situation he was hoping for. Because he didn't know what state Maximillian would be in. If his condition was worse than expected, if it became a situation where he had to be stopped, things would get complicated.
'In Yu-jin's confirmation side quest, Gil Ber was "survival" and Maximillian was "encounter."'
Simply put, this could mean Gil Ber's life was threatened while Maximillian's wasn't.
Who could possibly threaten his life? Perhaps that was only natural.
But if that wasn't the reason... if Maximillian himself had already become an enemy to be defeated...
'No, if that were the case, the quest would have demanded Maximillian's elimination.'
Ivan narrowed his eyes. Yu-jin's quest had once ordered Ivan's elimination. In terms of difficulty, Ivan and Maximillian wouldn't have been much different to Yu-jin. He would die the moment he became hostile.
So the quest gives orders regardless of difficulty when necessary. With that understanding, it's still too early to conclude that Maximillian has necessarily become an enemy.
And decisively:
Ivan didn't want to see that man's face without a smile.
The symbol of hope succumbing to despair would seem to suggest that humans could never progress beyond that point.
Four of the Seven Dragon Lords still remained in this world, and behind the shell of peace, kings and ambitious individuals were preparing for the next war—the final war the Allied Kingdoms would face, different from the previous war that only opposed the demon race.
Yet even at the end of it all, humans could still live with hope. That was the symbol attached to the name "hero." What Maximillian had possessed, and what had been passed on to Isabelle.
Ivan looked solemnly at the chattering Isabelle and thought:
The late king passed away before the hero's arrival.
It was a battlefield where the righteous fell first. Those who volunteered to be breakwaters, carrying the weak on their backs in the face of death's onslaught, always perished first.
No more.
Peace built upon the corpses of the righteous should be enough with just once.
The hero of this generation must arrive faster than despair. It must be so, and it must be made so.
Fortunately, Ivan was well-versed in "common sense." With his guidance, Isabelle could complete her preparations more quickly.
After all, Koreans are experts at optimizing efficient leveling.
Ivan looked at the chattering Isabelle before turning his gaze back to the window.
Three days later, Ivan arrived in San Matilenne, the capital of Tilles.
The train carrying Ivan pulled into Matil-Etoile Station, the largest railway station in San Matilenne.
Matil-Etoile Station was part of one of the major trade routes that ran from the southeastern port cities of Tilles, through San Matilenne, and all the way to Krasilov.
The station was incredibly crowded on this weekday afternoon, packed to the point of filling the entire massive building.
Isabelle began to giggle and boast to the dumbfounded Asidis, who stood with her mouth agape. Sadly, neither Elfihera, who had seen Kalion's sky harbor, nor Yu-jin, who was from Earth, showed much excitement.
"How about that? You're such a country bumpkin. Amazing, right? Right? Pritzenkaya Station is nothing compared to this!"
"Hmm."
About the size of Seoul Station.
It was an odd comparison, but considering this era, it was an impressive scale. Ivan nodded honestly. Although he had encountered countless military trains on battlefields, he couldn't help feeling somewhat impressed when seeing such a prosperous railway station.
He knew countless men who had fought hoping that scenes like this could become everyday sights.
"..."
And in the distance, he spotted one of those men, standing crookedly, smoking a cigarette while looking up at the sky.
"Excuse me."
Ivan gestured to the chattering Isabelle and stepped forward. The man smoking in a corner of the station, sighing heavily, raised his hand weakly.
"You're here."
"Pavel."
Pavel looked at Ivan with tired eyes, ground out his cigarette on the floor, and slumped his shoulders.
"Why am I suffering like this..."
"Why are you here?"
"His Majesty's orders. Told me to go as a diplomatic envoy."
He pulled out a notebook from inside his coat and handed it over. It was an official document with simple personal details and the royal seal.
-Ivan Petrovich Yeremov.
-Level 3 Political Diplomatic Assistant.
Pavel dusted off his hands and shrugged.
"I'm your supervisor. His Majesty was biting his nails, saying he couldn't imagine what kind of trouble you might cause if given diplomatic authorization."
"Ha."
Ivan briefly imagined the scene and suddenly smiled.
Seeing this, Pavel heaved a sigh and extended his hand.
"Well, since this is official business, I suppose it could be considered a promotion. I look forward to working with you, Assistant Ivan."
"Yes, looking forward to it."
Since ancient times, diplomatic envoys have been the most typical friendly nation spies.
Almost all members of the Counterintelligence Command's Foreign Intelligence Department were mixed in with diplomatic envoys.
This meant he could act as a royally authorized, legal friendly nation spy.