Hoana Thule.

Yeomyeong didn’t know much about her.

And that was no surprise. She was a figure of the past, retired long before the Scarab had even learned to sweep with a broom.

The only reason he recognized her face was that he’d seen her a few times in the war documentaries he liked to watch.

The Fundamentalists’ Nightmare. Redox’s Gun. The former vice-captain of the Holy Knights, who had held her position for half a century.

Even though this wasn’t the first time Yeomyeong had met someone he’d only seen on TV, he felt himself tense up without realizing it.

“…She won’t swing a weapon at me out of nowhere like Morine, will she?”

Of course, it wasn’t likely, not here at the Academy… but life has a way of proving you wrong when you’re too sure.

Cautiously, Yeomyeong drew up his mana before stepping forward toward Hoana and the Saintess.

It didn’t take long for the Saintess to notice him. She flinched, her expression startled, her mouth slightly agape.

“…Oh?”

She quickly averted her gaze as if nothing had happened, but no one with Yeomyeong’s sharp senses would miss such an obvious reaction.

“Saintess? Is something the matter?”

Hoana paused mid-step and turned her head to follow the Saintess’s line of sight.

The morning sun cast its light on the men’s dormitory.

Walking in the glow, a young man approached without looking to the sides, his strides directed unmistakably toward the Saintess.

“Could it be… Is that young man the one you were talking about?”

It was more a question for confirmation than one seeking an answer. The Saintess pursed her lips in response, offering no reply.

In truth, none was necessary. As he drew closer, her heart began to race faster and faster.

A reaction far more telling than a hundred words.

Hoana released the Saintess’s arm and spoke with a gentle tone.

“…He’s a handsome young man. Much better-looking in person than on the news.”

“….”

“I may sound like an old fool, but when your father was younger, he looked just like—”

The Saintess interrupted, her expression serious.

“What are you talking about? Yeomyeong’s far better than my father.”

“…I only meant the atmosphere was similar.”

“They’re not even close.”

Once again, she refuted him, her tone unusually stern for a Saintess. Hoana, caught off guard by her uncharacteristic strictness, opened and closed his mouth, unable to respond.

…So this is why they say daughters are of no use.

Sympathizing with her poor father in his mind, Hoana gave a small, awkward cough.

“Ahem, now that I look at him, that eye color is unusual. Is he one of ours?”

A question anyone who saw Yeomyeong’s eyes would ask.

Even in worlds beyond dimensional gates, where mana had created a kaleidoscope of iris colors, golden eyes like his were exceedingly rare.

“That’s…”

The Saintess was about to respond when a voice from an unexpected source answered.

“…No. I’m from Earth.”

Yeomyeong, who had approached unnoticed, now stood right before them. Hoana turned to him, her curiosity piqued.

“So, perhaps a mixed heritage?”

“…That, I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met my parents.”

A calm confession.

Hoana, feeling awkward, stared at him briefly before extending her hand.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Hoana Thule, newly appointed as a special instructor at the Academy.”

Her tone was unexpectedly courteous, as if addressing a junior peer, not a newcomer.

Yeomyeong, who had been half-expecting her to draw a blade, suppressed a sigh of relief.

“…Could it be? Is she normal?”

It was too early to let his guard down, but perhaps it was time he met a religious figure who was at least somewhat sane.

Yeomyeong clasped Hoana’s hand and responded.

“…Yeomyeong Cheon, first-year Academy student. It’s an honor to meet Redox’s Gun in person.”

His greeting was polite but not servile.

Did that demeanor impress her? A faint smile spread across the wrinkles at the corners of Hoana’s mouth as she shook his hand.

“It’s a bit of a coincidence to meet here, don’t you think? Did you come out to meet the Saintess?”

“No, nothing like that. Just coincidence. I happened to see her during my morning run….”

“That’s fortunate. It saved me the trouble of waiting in front of the dormitory.”

A blatant admission that she’d come to the men’s dormitory to meet him.

…So, it really is because of the Saintess. What in the world has she done this time?

Yeomyeong cast a sidelong glance at the Saintess standing behind Hoana, his expression skeptical.

The Saintess, catching his look, began making incomprehensible gestures with her hands.

It looked like sign language, but since Yeomyeong couldn’t read it, he decided to ignore her.

Hoana placed her hands on her hips and spoke.

“Yeomyeong, since we’ve met like this, allow me to get straight to the point.”

“….”

“In my special class, would you consider becoming my disciple?”

The sudden proposal made Yeomyeong’s eyes narrow.

A Holy Knight, of all people, had come out of nowhere to ask him to be her disciple.

To view it positively, it wasn’t entirely strange.

The feats and talents Yeomyeong had demonstrated thus far were something anyone would covet. Even the Holy Sword itself had tried to claim him as a disciple.

But judging by the Saintess’s panicked signing, Hoana Thule seemed to have an entirely different reason for her proposal.

“…May I ask why you’re making this proposal to me?”

Hoana glanced between Yeomyeong and the Saintess before replying.

The Saintess, who had been desperately gesturing, quickly clasped her hands behind her back as if nothing had happened.

Whether by fortune or misfortune, Hoana seemed not to have noticed.

“Yeomyeong? I’ll be honest. My purpose at the Academy is to serve as the Saintess’s escort. The special class is merely an excuse.”

“….”

“But… the Saintess has refused to attend my class. Do you know why?”

“Hoana! Wait…!”

The Saintess tried belatedly to interrupt, but Hoana’s words came out faster.

“She said it was more important to take the same class as her friend than to be under my protection.”

‘…What is all this nonsense?’

The tension that had built up inside Yeomyeong suddenly deflated.

He had expected some enormous misunderstanding, but it turned out the Saintess had simply thrown a tantrum?

‘…What in the world.’

Yeomyeong held back the urge to scold the Saintess.

Lately, what had gotten into her? Back in Manju, she seemed odd but still reliable, didn’t she?

Then again, thinking back, she had been plenty strange even then.

Rubbing his temples briefly, Yeomyeong hesitated before politely declining.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve already enrolled in other classes. I don’t think I can change my choice just because of the Saintess.”

Barely had his response ended when a deep sigh escaped the Saintess’s lips.

It was hard to tell whether it was a sigh of relief or disappointment.

Hoana spoke, undeterred by the Saintess’s reaction.

“Yeomyeong, could you reconsider?”

“…I’m sorry.”

“If you’re worried that I might not take my teaching seriously, I assure you—”

“No, it’s not that. I just think the Saintess should let this one go, for her own good.”

“Is that your personal opinion? Or…?”

“It’s what I think as her friend.”

Having said that, Yeomyeong glanced at Hoana’s expression.

Despite being refused by someone much younger and less experienced, Hoana showed neither disappointment nor anger.

“…It seems I’ve made an unreasonable request to indulge the Saintess’s whims. I apologize.”

Instead, she bowed her head slightly, offering him an apology.

Confronted with such a mature demeanor, Yeomyeong felt a faint sense of relief.

“It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize, Instructor.”

It was a relief to know that not everyone around the Saintess was eccentric.

Come to think of it, it was obvious.

The Saintess’s mother and Corvus were unusually peculiar individuals, but most of the people around her were priests devoted to the Five Gods—pious, normal, and upright adults.

Perhaps the Saintess’s recent odd behavior was because she’d been away from such influences for too long.

With that thought, Yeomyeong looked up again.

The Saintess was fiddling with her fingers, while Hoana seemed lost in thought.

“If there’s nothing more to discuss, I’ll return to the dormitory.”

Yeomyeong gave Hoana a slight bow as he spoke.

Seemingly having nothing further to say, Hoana gave him a small nod in return.

“May the Red God bless your struggles.”

With that brief farewell, Yeomyeong turned away.

At that moment, the Saintess, who had been hesitating, suddenly raised her head as if struck by an idea and called out to him.

“Wait, Yeomyeong! Just a moment!”

“…What now?”

“Do you remember that promise we made at the shelter?”

“Promise?”

“You remember, don’t you?”

Of course, he remembered. How could he forget the promise he made to the Saintess at the shelter to draw out her foresight?

A promise to grant her any one request.

And now she was bringing it up…

Yeomyeong suppressed the urge to smack his forehead and asked, “You’re not planning to use it now, are you?”

“Yes! I’m going to use it now!”

Puffing out her chest confidently, the Saintess declared her intent. And just as he had expected, an outrageous request followed.

“My request is simple. Convince Hoana for me.”

Convince her? Convince a special escort sent by the Sacred Kingdom not to guard the Saintess?

Yeomyeong pressed his lips together tightly, then glanced at Hoana.

As expected, she was composed. Hoana only offered a faint, wry smile, revealing no other emotion.

And yet, the Saintess wanted to seek out another special instructor instead of Hoana?

It wasn’t as though she had a reason like his or Seti’s. Yeomyeong couldn’t understand her reasoning.

‘Friendship… friendship, huh.’

Yeomyeong swallowed a sigh and strode over to the Saintess.

And then…

Thwack!

He flicked her forehead.

The sudden attack made the Saintess stagger, clutching her forehead.

As she wobbled, Yeomyeong caught her by the shoulder to steady her and spoke calmly.

“Saintess, that was a warning. As your friend.”

“You… you!”

“And as your friend, let me give you one more piece of advice: don’t waste a precious request on something so foolish.”

“Foolish? You think this is foolish? Do you have any idea—”

“Trust me, I’ve already toned it down a lot. You know that, right?”

Yeomyeong was about to retort further when the Saintess suddenly began tracing letters on his thigh with her finger.

—Foresight.

Yeomyeong immediately grasped the meaning behind that single word.

It was because they had endured so many hellish experiences together.

But… why was it always him?

There was a legendary Holy Knight standing right there, so why was he the one getting dragged into the Saintess’s foresight again?

…Or so he thought, until he read the next word she traced on his thigh.

—Seti.