TRPM 296

chapter 296

We arrived at Chairwoman Shin Hanji’s office together with her and took a look around inside.

… This is my second time here.

Even before my regression, I had only visited the chairwoman’s office once.

Back then, Shin Hanji had called me here simply because I was the world’s only awakened martial arts ability user.

It wasn’t anything big—just a consultation.

Since ordinary lectures didn’t really help me create martial arts, she gave me advice on which classes might be useful.

Though even for Chairwoman Shin Hanji, martial arts were an unknown field, so she couldn’t give me proper recommendations.

As I was recalling that—

“Don’t just stand there awkwardly. Please, have a seat.”

Shin Hanji gestured.

Elena and I sat down on the sofa inside the office.

… I didn’t realize this before regression, but…

There was an incredibly discreet barrier spread throughout the room.

Sitting down, I admired the security woven into the office.

From outside, one could learn nothing about what happened inside the barrier. But from inside, everything occurring outside was visible—a powerful and thorough setup.

At the very least, staying in this office meant you could monitor everything going on in the Academy.

No wonder Shin Hanji noticed we’d entered the Academy even before Elena sent her message.

As I was thinking that—

“What do you think?”

“?”

“This barrier—I designed it myself. How does it look to you, Gunwoo?”

She must have noticed me probing at it with my senses.

I hadn’t bothered hiding it, so it wasn’t surprising she picked up on it.

“It’s impressive.”

I’d figured out its mechanism, but that was all.

Creating something this intricate and subtle was beyond me.

Of course, it’s not as though Shin Hanji had set it up effortlessly—but even with unlimited time and resources, I doubted I could reproduce it.

Well, obviously. No matter how much I study magic, I’m not as gifted as Shin Hanji, one of the top-tier Archmages.

And then—

“… Is there a barrier in this room?”

The one who asked was Elena, who hadn’t sensed a thing.

“Fufu… That’s normal, Elena. Unless one’s an Aura Master or an Archmage, most people can’t even notice the barrier I’ve placed here.”

She smiled.

“Even among Aura Masters and Archmages, there are those who fail to detect it.”

“So, you don’t need to feel disappointed in yourself for not realizing it.”

“Y-yes… I understand.”

Elena nodded at her words, but she couldn’t quite hide her bruised pride.

She understood rationally, but she was still young.

Even many adults can’t control their emotions perfectly—how could a royal child like Elena be expected to?

“Hm…”

Perhaps thinking along the same lines, Shin Hanji studied Elena quietly.

“… It should be fine. Even negative emotions, when within limits, help foster growth.”

Having judged that a little dent to Elena’s pride would help her mature, Shin Hanji chose to leave her be.

As an educator, her reasoning made sense—I had no objection.

In fact, I agreed.

In our class, Elena is the third strongest. And if you exclude Ha-eun and me as outliers, she’s practically unrivaled among her peers.

The world is wide, so there may be some out there stronger than Elena. But at least until now, apart from Ha-eun and me, she had never encountered anyone stronger.

Naturally, her confidence had swelled.

But the moment she stepped through the Academy gates, that confidence began to crack.

And failing to even sense the barrier earlier had been the final blow.

Now she had lost her confidence. Her pride had taken a hit.

But once pride shatters, one begins to see their shortcomings clearly.

If the loss is too great, some never recover. But Elena isn’t that type.

“By the way—Gunwoo is familiar with this place, but for you, Elena, it’s your first time at the Academy, isn’t it? Is there anywhere you’d like to see?”

Knowing I was a regressor, Shin Hanji directed the question to Elena.

After a pause, she lifted her head and spoke carefully:

“… Could we see the training grounds? Or perhaps the Academy’s famous artificial forest?”

The training grounds, huh.

Losing confidence must have sparked a yearning for strength.

And the artificial forest—well, as a Spiritist, Elena naturally wanted to see a place brimming with natural energy.

“Hehe… I can read you like a book. But outsiders can’t just freely enter places like the training grounds or the forest used for training.”

“Ah…”

“But!”

Seeing Elena’s disappointment, Shin Hanji quickly continued:

“If accompanied by an instructor, it’s a different matter.”

So, she was assigning us an escort.

“And as it happens, the instructor I called to guide you both seems to have just arrived.”

At her words, a knock sounded at the door.

Knock knock.

“Chairwoman? You called? It sounds like you have guests…”

“Yes, I did. Please, come in.”

The one knocking entered after receiving permission.

“… Oh?”

It was the Academy’s shamanism instructor—a woman known in Japan as a Miko.

Her expression shifted when she recognized us.

“Ah… You’re the one I saw back at that parasitic dungeon… You’re Japan’s greatest shaman, the Miko, aren’t you?”

“Mm, hello. And you were… Elena, right?”

The parasitic dungeon…

Ah, I remembered.

My classmates had dragged me along to investigate it near the Association’s market.

We’d coincidentally run into her there.

I don’t recall us formally exchanging names back then… though I was too focused on Sarang and the doppelgänger corpse she found, so maybe it slipped by me.

Anyway—

“Will you be guiding us around the Academy, Miss Miko?”

“Huh? Guiding?”

It seemed she hadn’t been told anything.

Shin Hanji must have only summoned her here without details.

“That’s right. These two will be students here in three years, so why not give them a tour now?”

“But… I was preparing for the tournament…”

Though the tournament wasn’t starting just yet, she likely had preparations to make as an instructor.

“Don’t worry. Instructor Ayano, I’ll have someone else cover your duties for now.”

“If you say so…”

Ayano—that must be her real name.

The public always called her “Miko,” so hearing her name felt unfamiliar.

Or perhaps I’d heard it before, but the “Miko” image was so strong I’d forgotten.

And so, guided by the Miko, we toured the Academy’s training grounds and artificial forest.

Since many cadets were busy warming up for the upcoming tournament, we couldn’t use the facilities—only observe without getting in the way.

… The training grounds and forest haven’t changed.

As I looked around, memories surfaced.

I’d spent much time training here, and though I hadn’t used the forest myself, I’d often cut through it to get around.

“The training grounds and artificial forest… aren’t all that special, are they?” Elena remarked.

“Well, yeah. Other academies have state-of-the-art facilities too.”

The Academy exists to cultivate Awakeners who’ll defend the world from the Black Fog.

With wealthy patrons constantly investing, they never lacked funding.

Unless, of course, the funds were squandered.

But most academies aren’t run by lunatics who’d embezzle so blatantly.

And even if they were, the Association would audit any faulty facilities—so in the end, even corrupt academies still kept their equipment up-to-date.

“The important thing isn’t the buildings, but the professors and instructors.”

Since the facilities are similar everywhere, the true measure of an Academy is the quality of its faculty.

And in that respect, Seoul Awakeners Academy was unmatched.

Nowhere else boasted such renowned professors and instructors.

The Miko standing with us was proof enough—one of the most famous shamans in existence.

… How did Shin Hanji even recruit people like her?

A shaman of her level could live comfortably without ever teaching.

“Is there anywhere else you’d like to visit? The tournament will start soon, so we only have time for one more stop…” the Miko asked.

I glanced at Elena, passing the choice to her.

But—

“There are many places I’d like to see… but for now, it’s fine. The training grounds and forest were my priorities. I’ll leave the next choice to you, Gunwoo.”

She seemed satisfied for now.

After all, this wasn’t the only day we’d be visiting the Academy—we’d be here all week.

“In that case…”

I spoke the name of the place I wanted to see.

“The Memorial Monument.”

A monument to comfort the souls of the dead.

“The Memorial Monument? … Very well.”

Following the Miko’s lead, we headed toward the monument, located not far from the artificial forest.

“……”
“……”

When we arrived, both the Miko and Elena fell silent, as if by mutual agreement.

Naturally so—most who came here did so to honor the dead.

… But my reason is different.

I only wanted to see it with my own eyes.

To compare the monument now with the one before my regression.

The Academy’s memorial lists the names of cadets and graduates killed by monsters born of the Black Fog.

Other academies, I knew, had similar monuments.

And of course—there was a major difference between the one from before regression and the one before me now.

The enemy.

There were far fewer names inscribed.

Naturally so.

Since my regression, Korea had known peace, and no cadets had died in terror attacks targeting the Academy.

The names already carved before my return—I couldn’t change those.

… But just as it’s been so far, I pray no more names are ever added here.

I offered that prayer silently.

Whether it reached the heavens, I did not know.