30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?!-Chapter 228: The Knight Makes a House Call (1)
“The sighs are getting longer.”
“......”
“Haah...”
“......”
“Haaaah...!”
“Uh, um... Lady Irene, is something wrong?”
“...Just call me Irene, Levi. And no, nothing’s wrong.”
“O-Oh, I see.”
“But...! Haah! No, never mind....”
“......”
...No matter how you looked at it, she was practically begging for attention.
It wasn’t just that she was sighing loudly for no reason—she kept throwing burdensome glances as if pleading for someone to ask what was wrong.
It was only natural for beads of cold sweat to form on Levi’s forehead.
“Poor Levi... she’s finally been caught in that snare....”
“Why is she doing this in the swordsmanship training grounds of all places?”
“She probably just wants someone to talk to.”
“But why here? If she went to the magic department, she’d find plenty of people eager to talk to her.”
“The magic department is full of fanatics who practically worship Lady Irene. Apparently, that makes them too overwhelming for her.”
“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Hm? Wait, how do you even know that?”
“...Because I got caught once and had to listen to her for five hours straight.”
“...So you’ve suffered too.”
When she first entered the academy, Irene Windler had been the object of admiration for the students in the swordsmanship department.
Being the daughter of a duke was impressive enough, but Irene Windler herself had an almost otherworldly charm that matched her noble lineage.
A fairy-like beauty with a bright, refreshing voice.
The talent of a grand mage and the skills to back it up.
And an intellect that had earned her the position of second place in academic rankings upon admission.
There wasn’t a single man who wouldn’t have fallen for a girl who possessed both beauty and intelligence in such perfection.
If not for her status as a noble, she would have likely received thousands of confessions.
...But there was one place where all admiration for her had completely cooled.
‘She’s beautiful, intelligent, and remarkable, but her personality is just...’
‘I had to keep up with her in conversation for ten whole hours last time... I never want to go through that again.’
‘Whoever ends up with her better have really sturdy eardrums.’
...It was the swordsmanship department.
At first, they had admired her just like everyone else. But after actually spending time around her, well...
‘She’s not a bad person, really. She’s not.’
It wasn’t that Irene had a bad or unpleasant personality.
She just had an extreme need for affection, talked without giving anyone a break, and—like any good mage—had a tendency for eccentric behavior.
...Which was precisely why so many had ended up retreating from her.
Some even collapsed from exhaustion and nosebleeds after spending too much time engaging in conversation with her.
‘Some things are best appreciated from afar.’
A girl whose charm only grew the less you interacted with her.
That was Irene Windler.
And as if to prove that point—
“So, listen, Levi, you have to hear this! It was four nights ago—I saw the maid and the instructor standing way too close together! I followed them around, and they were holding hands, eating together, taking strolls...! That’s a date! A date! And it just made me so mad, and jealous, and envious—I wanted to be in that position so badly...!!”
“A-Ah, I see. But Lady Leira and Master have always been close, so it’s not really—”
“No...!! Anyone else can say that, but you of all people shouldn’t! Aren’t you jealous?!”
“Huh? I just want Master to be happy, so I think it’s all fine.”
“...Gasp!”
“And besides, I wouldn’t mind being... s-second... N-No! Forget I said anything....”
“Aaaaah! Why are all the good, kindhearted women surrounding me?! I’m the only bad one! Just me...!”
[You are so embarrassing, Irene.]
“Shut up!”
“Uh...?”
“I wasn’t talking to you, Levi! I was yelling at this damned ghost.”
The most uptodate nove𝙡s are published on frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓.
“......”
“I swear I’m not lying! Stop looking at me like that!!”
...And so, Levi, having been caught by Irene, had no choice but to patiently listen to the girl’s endless grievances and react accordingly.
“Bear-girl is too good. Kunta wants a wife like that.”
“Didn’t you get confessed to recently?”
“I said we should have kids right away, and she slapped me. Then the next day, she spread rumors that I was trash. It made me sad.”
“...That’s not really something to be sad about. That’s your fault.”
“The instructor saw it happen and called it karma, hehe.”
“Oh, Garland. Are you done sparring?”
“Yeah, I wrapped it up. Damn, the instructor’s gotten really strong. No, actually, it’s not just that—his bloodlust and danger level are insane now. Fighting him while he’s holding a hammer is a nightmare.”
“...Yeah, I fought him too. He’s definitely tricky.”
There were three students in the swordsmanship department commonly referred to as the “Three Pillars.”
The best swordsman in the department was undoubtedly Roen, but if you excluded him, the three most talented and skilled individuals were these three.
Arno de Offen, heir to the Sword Saint.
Kunta, a barbarian of a mysterious lineage.
And Garland, the apprentice of the Mercenary King.
...And today, those three had decided to spar against a certain someone.
A spar that forced them to feel real danger.
Even now, there was a red mark vividly imprinted on Garland’s cheek.
A clear sign that he had been struck.
And the one who left that mark was—
“...Ghhkk...”
—Damian Follet, currently passed out cold.
He had taken a clean hit to the chin during his match with Garland and was knocked unconscious.
Normally, Garland wouldn’t have knocked out an opponent—he would have simply subdued them.
But against Damian, even subduing him had become difficult.
No, at this point, he had to go all out just to fight him properly.
“He’s gotten stronger. Well, I guess it makes sense—he charges at the instructor every day.”
“It’s not just that. His aura is no joke.”
“Mm. Kunta sometimes gets scared of the instructor. Yesterday, when I fought him, he looked like a ghoul.”
“Yeah, his condition isn’t great.”
Apparently, he had been working overtime yesterday too.
Which raised the question—when was he not working overtime?
Recently, he had even started suffering from insomnia.
And with how he looked now, Damian could honestly be mistaken for an undead.
“Hehehe... I... I can sleep now....”
...Apparently, being knocked out counted as “sleep” to him.
He had a blissful expression on his face, as if getting knocked out was the best thing that had happened to him.
“...That’s what he says in his sleep?”
“The instructor... is pitiful.”
“Kunta, maybe you should try being an instructor yourself—”
“Garland, don’t cross that line. There are some things you don’t say, even as a joke. Kunta doesn’t want to lose a friend today.”
“...I apologize. That was my mistake. I sincerely regret it.”
“Good. And I’d appreciate it if you never said something like that again.”
“Damn, since when did you get so articulate?”
And so, just like any other day, life in the swordsmanship department continued in peaceful chaos.
The kingdom was still rife with incidents and crises, but as cadets, they were in a position meant to be protected.
And since no one knew how long this peace would last, they might as well enjoy it.
But then—
“...The hell? Why is this bastard sleeping here instead of at home?”
Someone who played a massive role in maintaining that peace appeared.
“Looks like the construction finished early today.”
“Yeah, mostly. Just need to wrap things up now.”
“...Haha.”
Ihan had shown up later than usual—having spent the entire morning at a construction site.
And what construction site was that?
'What the hell does it mean that he "almost destroyed the royal palace"...?'
'Didn't my father tell me not to mess with the instructor? ...Isn’t that just common sense at this point?'
'Who was he even sparring with?'
The royal palace.
The construction site Ihan had been working on was none other than the royal palace itself.
Most of the cadets already had a vague idea of what had happened—because quite a few of their parents were nobles working within the palace.
...From what they had heard.
‘Didn’t they say he almost destroyed the royal palace during a [sparring match]?’
How the hell does a sparring match end up nearly demolishing an entire palace?
They couldn’t begin to understand.
But one thing was clear—those parents who had previously voiced complaints about Ihan now fervently begged their children never to get on his bad side.
To the point where some were even sending him gifts.
Because of that, the cadets—sometimes referred to as "young masters" or "chicks"—could easily guess what had happened.
‘He must’ve done something very typical of the instructor.’
As always, he had probably committed some ogre-like act of destruction.
“So, why the hell is this bastard lying here like this?”
“He passed out after sparring with Garland.”
“Yeah? He wouldn’t have gone down that easily, though.”
“Well, his face does have a nice mark on it.”
“Keep pushing yourself. At this rate, he’s going to catch up.”
“Already planning on doing that.”
“Hmph. Then how about you try going up against me like this idiot did?”
“...Instructor, no matter how reckless I am as a mercenary, I’m not that stupid.”
“This dumbass did it.”
“That just means he’s dumber than a mercenary. Tch.”
Even the mercenaries pitied Damian at this point, but the man himself was still fast asleep, smiling blissfully.
Ihan merely told them to dump him somewhere out of the way before turning his gaze toward the remaining cadets.
[...]
He clearly had something to say.
The air, which had been noisy just moments ago, suddenly grew deathly silent.
“You guys sure know when to shut up.”
Ihan looked satisfied that he didn’t have to say much.
Then, he reached into the bag slung over his back and pulled out a thick stack of papers.
“Take one each. Anyone who wants to can get their parents to sign it.”
“What is this?”
“A home visit request form.”
“...Excuse me?”
“I said it’s a home visit request form.”
“???”
***
Ihan explained simply.
“The kingdom’s been in chaos lately. Your parents must be worried. As your instructor, I should ease their concerns. I also want to discuss potential countermeasures in case of an emergency.”
Only then did the cadets begin to understand.
“Aaah!”
“There’s such deep meaning behind this!”
“Instructor, you’re being surprisingly considerate!”
“Head on the floor.”
“Yes, sir!”
After handing out a fitting punishment to the bald cadet who had spoken out of turn, Ihan turned his attention back to the group.
“Of course, this isn’t mandatory. It’s only for those who want to participate. That’s why I told you to get a signature.”
“What about Kunta?”
“If you want, let me know. I’ll run to your homeland myself.”
“It’s 100 kilometers away.”
“That’s close.”
“...?”
“Anyway, if you understand, you’re dismissed. I’ll wrap things up early today, so go ask your parents.”
And with that, Ihan swiftly scattered the cadets.
There was an undeniable pushiness to the whole thing, but at this point, the cadets were so used to his ways that they didn’t find it particularly strange.
Having spent so much time under his command, they had built up a resistance to his unique methods.
“...?”
One cadet, flipping through the contents of the form, suddenly tilted his head in confusion.
“Instructor, can I ask a question?”
“What is it?”
“...Uh, why does my form already have a signature on it...?”
Arno de Offen.
He stared at the pre-signed consent section of his form, perplexed.
Ihan smirked and reached into his inner pocket.
What he pulled out—
“Nothing much. Your house doesn’t require special permission, so I just went ahead and did it.”
“...Why is that in your hands?”
A worn-out dagger.
As soon as Ihan revealed it, Arno’s pupils trembled.
Because there was only one person in his family who possessed such an item.
His father, the Sword Saint.
“This thing’s like a free pass to your house, isn’t it?”
“......”
“Oh, and before I use it, there’s something I want to ask—”
...Is the Sword Saint home?
