NoveLight ™
The only dwarven teacher at Lord Howe Academy, Margan, started his morning as usual.
He woke up at six, lightly tidied his bed, then began his day with a strong cup of barley tea and an online newspaper.
He didn’t have any particular preference for which paper he read. Some days, it was The Wall Street Journal, other days, News Corp Oceania. It all depended on his mood, simply a way to pass the time.
But today, reading Korea Times was more fate than whim.
The headline about superhumans appeared on the main page, grabbing his attention with its sensational title.
『A Proud Korea… Defeats the Dragon in Manju.』
A grandiose, nearly ridiculous title.
Out of curiosity, Margan clicked the article.
Sipping his tea leisurely as he read, he wasn’t surprised at all by the content.
It was the typical overblown rhetoric and self-praise, a classic puff piece. When he finished, he chuckled in disbelief.
“So, the Seonjook Mercenary Group and the Korean military supposedly eliminated a dragon hidden in Manju?”
Even a passing dog would laugh at the absurdity.
A dragon hidden in Manju for decades, defeated with no casualties? Ridiculous.
'What a load of nonsense.'
Sure, they’d recently suffered the humiliation of losing their North Manju base to terrorists, but did they really need to save face with such an obvious lie?
Margan clicked his tongue in annoyance and scanned related articles.
They were no better. If anything, they were worse, featuring outlandish claims like the Saintess joining the fight and a rookie mercenary personally taking down the dragon.
Korean government boasting was nothing new, but this… this crossed a line.
‘Even a joke has its limits.’
As he scoffed at the article, an idea sprang to mind.
'…A joke, indeed.'
If a dwarf like him found it laughable, what would the human teachers think?
Without much hesitation, he printed the article and headed to the faculty room, sharing it with his colleagues.
His guess was spot on. As soon as they read it, laughter filled the room.
Amused snickers, exasperated disbelief. Watching his colleagues laugh, Margan felt content. It was nice to see the faculty room brighten up from a few ridiculous articles. Today seemed to be off to a good start.
But…
Unfortunately, the light-hearted atmosphere didn’t last long. Not long after, an uninvited guest walked into the faculty room.
The Sacred Sword, Freya Khan.
Her hair, lazily tied up and unwashed, her face barely freshened, she strolled into the faculty room and immediately claimed the sofa, announcing she’d wait until the headmaster arrived.
Most teachers, accustomed to her unceremonious behavior, ignored her, but there were those who didn’t.
“Oh, Mordak above… Is that truly the Sacred Sword before my eyes?”
Margan was one of them, watching Freya Khan, unsettled.
The Sacred Sword. The superhuman who had stood up for dwarves in Australia. The one he respected most.
'Should I ask for her autograph? Or a photo, maybe?'
He hesitated, forgetting about his class preparations, and finally, he made up his mind, rising from his seat.
'…I should start with a conversation. A bit of humor always helps, right?'
He picked up the printed article and approached Freya Khan.
"Uh, Freya Khan?"
“…Hm? What is it?”
“Well, I thought you seemed a bit bored. I have an amusing article here. Would you like to take a look?”
Would she like to take a look? Was he a news vendor now? Margan sighed inwardly.
He felt like a teenager passing a love letter. What a display.
But, to his surprise, Freya’s reaction was positive.
“An amusing article? What’s it about?”
“It’s… about a dragon being defeated in Manju…”
The moment she heard “Manju,” she snatched the article. Her uncovered eye gleamed with interest.
Margan was relieved she seemed intrigued and prepared himself for the next conversation.
'If the Sacred Sword bursts out laughing, I’ll join in, and if she just smirks, I’ll keep it going with more humor.'
But unfortunately, her reaction was far from what he expected.
Her lips did curve up, but it wasn’t a sneer.
It was pure delight, mixed with surprise.
“Wow, that kid actually took down a dragon?”
"…What?"
Did she actually believe this absurd story?
While Margan reeled in shock, Freya squinted at the article photo, eye fixed on it.
“Ah, I knew I should’ve forced him into apprenticeship back then.”
…What? Apprenticeship?
Margan rubbed his ear, wondering if he’d misheard, but judging by the other teachers’ expressions, they’d heard it too.
Particularly the admissions director, whose expression grew intense as he looked at Freya with a betrayed expression, much like Caesar seeing Brutus.
'This might come back to bite me.'
Glancing between Freya and the admissions director, Margan cautiously asked.
“Um… Sacred Sword? By ‘apprentice,’ what exactly do you mean…?”
“Hm? It’s nothing. Look, do you see the guy in this photo?”
Freya pointed to the Seonjook Mercenary Group picture. Specifically, to the mercenary with golden eyes standing among the group.
It was a face Margan remembered. The rookie mercenary who had supposedly played a key role in the dragon’s defeat.
“I tried to take him as an apprentice a while ago, but he flat-out rejected me.”
"…."
“The little brat. So he’s been mercenary-ing this whole time?”
Freya wore a peculiar smile, shifting her gaze to another article.
Regardless of her reaction, the atmosphere in the faculty room grew heavy.
The word “apprentice” carried too much weight.
Freya Khan’s apprentice. Anyone with sense could guess what that implied.
No one in that faculty room was a fool, so they all thought the same thing at once.
The next Sacred Sword.
For Australia, and even the academy, this was too significant to dismiss.
'…Good lord.'
Feeling the weight of the stares, Margan broke into a cold sweat.
He looked around and saw all his colleagues wearing expressions that screamed, “Ask her more!”
'Damn it. There’s no escaping this.'
He swallowed hard and asked Freya.
“Uh, Sacred Sword… where did you meet this mercenary you intended to make your apprentice?”
"…Hm? It’s classified.”
Classified. Meaning it involved a government mission. Things were getting complicated.
Freya seemed disinterested in continuing the conversation, but ending the questions here would bring the admissions director’s wrath. Margan desperately searched for another question.
“Then could you at least share his name? Perhaps we could arrange a position for him on our end. What do you think?”
“Name? Don’t know.”
"…Don’t know?"
“I didn’t ask his name. He knows mine, so isn’t that enough?”
What was she even saying? Margan was about to protest, but then he remembered she’d mentioned “classified.”
'Could it be that even revealing his name is a security risk?'
It was a plausible theory, certainly more reasonable than believing that the Sacred Sword hadn’t even bothered to learn the name of her would-be apprentice.
As soon as Margan convinced himself of this, the admissions director spoke up.
"…Cheon Yeomyeong. His name is Cheon Yeomyeong."
Everyone in the room turned to him. Even Freya Khan, casually flipping through articles, looked over.
“Medga, how do you know that?” Freya asked.
Medga, the man who had held the admissions director position at Lord Howe Academy for twelve years, turned his monitor toward her.
On his screen was an application form.
“The mercenary. He applied for admission to the academy. Due to identity verification, he wouldn’t officially enroll until the second semester at the earliest.”
“Oh? Really?”
"…Do you think I’d lie about something like this?”
“It just seems strange…”
“Strange? What’s strange?”
“I offered him a recommendation letter for the academy, but he refused.”
The admissions director’s face twisted in frustration, but Freya simply played with her eyepatch, lost in thought.
Then, as if she’d realized something, she smacked her forehead.
“He wanted to grow on his own, without anyone’s help.”
"…."
“You said the earliest enrollment is the second semester, right? So, he went to Manju to gain real combat experience. No… judging by the fact he even fought a dragon, that must’ve been it.”
"…."
“Ah, these modern kids are different. Back in my day, all superhumans grew this way, with no academy or hand-holding…”
Watching Freya make her own conclusions, Margan couldn’t bring himself to ask if she was being presumptuous. It actually sounded believable.
And, honestly, it didn’t matter if it was an assumption. What mattered was that Freya Khan was interested in Yeomyeong, enough to speculate about his potential.
As the room settled into a contemplative silence, the loudspeaker’s chime saved them all.
“Good morning to all students and staff at Lord Howe Academy.”
The broadcast echoed, marking the headmaster’s arrival. Freya stood up from the sofa, slipping out of the faculty room just as abruptly as she’d arrived.
“See you around.”
Her departure was as sudden as her arrival, but no one could say a word.
Everyone was still reeling from the implications when the admissions director came to his senses.
“That damned lunatic.”
He muttered a heartfelt curse as he scribbled something on a piece of paper, then approached Margan.
“Margan.”
“Y-yes?”
“You’re now in charge of transfer admissions testing. All your classes today are canceled.”
Margan blinked, unsure what he’d just heard.
“Transfer admissions testing? But that position doesn’t even exist…”
“I just created it. Any complaints?”
“Then, what about my classes…”
“Gemini will handle them temporarily.”
Shoving a paper labeled “Transfer Admissions Examiner Certificate” into Margan’s hand, the admissions director commanded him.
“Go to Manju immediately. Find Cheon Yeomyeong or whoever that reckless kid is, and bring him to the academy before word of his connection to Freya Khan spreads. Understood?”
The look on his face made it clear he wouldn’t tolerate any objections.
The words Why me? rose to Margan’s lips, but he dared not speak them.
Two hours later, he was boarding a plane bound for Gaeseong.