Fifteen Days Before the Start of the Semester

At the point when Ihan had received an explanation from the old priest about why the Heretic Inquisition suspected him of heresy and targeted him...

Ihan made a bold request.

• “You have the list of cardinals and senior priests who are after me, right? Can you give it to me?”
• “I see no issue with giving it to you, but may I ask why you need it?”
• “To deal with them myself, of course. …Though I might try resolving it through a conversation.”
• “Haha, the latter part is a lie, isn’t it?”
• “……”

 

Once again, Ihan was planning to play the assassin.

After all, if he could eliminate the high-ranking individuals targeting him, the temple would have no reason to continue pursuing him.

He was confident.

If he could fully utilize his abilities, he might even be able to aim for what some called the "return of the Silent Divine Assassin."

• “Tristan was worth facing head-on, but the temple isn’t.”

 

Just as one doesn’t feel guilty for killing a fly or a mosquito, Ihan thought the same about the temple’s upper echelons.
Killing them didn’t feel like dirtying his hands in the slightest.
He openly declared his intent to eliminate them, to which the old priest responded:

• “Not a bad idea.”
• “…?”

 

The unexpected approval left Ihan baffled.

• “…I’m saying I’ll do it, but are you really okay with this?”
• “Haha, my moral training is not so profound as to forgive the scum who use the name of the Light for their personal gain. At times, drastic measures are necessary. Do not worry; even if you commit a sin, I will take responsibility and bear it all as I descend into hell.”
• “That… that’s not what I was aiming for.”

 

The old man might be even more extreme than Ihan himself.

• “…However.”
• “Yeah?”
• “Killing them won’t solve the problem.”
• “...Keep talking, I’m listening.”
• “Thank you. What I mean is this: to borrow your analogy, pests always return, no matter how many you eliminate. Just as finding one ant in a house means there are countless others scattered throughout, the same applies here.”
• “…You’re saying that even if I kill them, new pests will emerge?”

 

It was a perspective Ihan could agree with.

As the old saying goes, “Burning the entire house to kill a single bedbug” might bring unintended consequences. Alternatively, one could interpret it like this:

• “To completely eradicate pests, you have to be prepared to burn down the whole house.”

 

If he were to act, he’d have to root them out entirely.

Killing high-ranking temple members might bring immediate satisfaction and resolve some issues, but it would also prompt the temple to produce more troublesome individuals to oppose him.
The temple had already taken notice of him, ensuring that new pests would buzz around his ears.

Annoyingly so...

• “Furthermore, inquisitors from the Heretic Inquisition never give up. Gradually, stronger individuals will come after you. Especially if those called 'Special Grade Inquisitors' appear, even you won’t escape unscathed.”
• “Are they strong?”
• “They are less about strength and more about their willingness to use any means necessary. Worse yet, they might target those around you instead.”
• “……If that happens, it’ll mean the temple and I can no longer coexist under the same sky.”

 

Though the temple was formidable, Ihan believed that if he worked alone, he could bring it down—even if it took ten years.
This wasn’t arrogance but confidence.

He couldn’t endure being wronged, and only returning tenfold—no, a thousandfold—of what he suffered would bring him peace.

• “That would be a tragedy for both you and the temple. Therefore, I suggest we take some time to approach this strategically.”
• “Time?”

 

Would giving it time really solve anything?

Ihan questioned it, but Raphael answered without hesitation.

• “Of course. I haven’t been idle either. Fortunately, some brothers have been kind enough to assist this insignificant old man.”
• “Oh?”

 

Ihan immediately understood what that meant.

It seemed the old priest had been gradually building a ‘faction’ within the temple since his return.

A former cardinal, the temple’s most senior figure, and even a candidate for sainthood.

If someone like him were to establish a faction, those who supported him would surely be influential as well.

• “Once those who support me are gathered, it will be time for me to carry out my final mission in life.”
• “Are you planning a reform?”
• “If necessary.”
• “…That won’t be easy.”

 

He had once heard that saving a fallen kingdom was easier than founding a new dynasty.

To Ihan, the old priest’s plan seemed even more reckless than his own. Yet, despite that...

• “If it must be done, I am the one to do it.”

 

The priest answered with composure.

• “…Alright. For now, let’s put assassination on the back burner.”
• “Thank you, Brother.”
• “But keep this in mind—if things start getting annoying, I’ll have no choice but to go with the ‘backup plan.’”
• “Haha, of course. But rest assured, as long as I am within the Inquisition, neither the priests nor the inquisitors will act recklessly.”

 

After all, the first attempt to strike at Ihan had failed, and with the old priest closely monitoring the situation, the high-ranking priests wouldn’t be foolish enough to make another move.

Doing so would only publicly announce the temple’s corruption and bolster Raphael’s influence.

• “People greedy for power never create opportunities for their authority to be undermined.”
• “Haha, you seem to understand the psyche of the powerful quite well.”
• “…It just sort of happened.”

 

It was a deduction made possible thanks to knowing someone who embodied the essence of power itself.

As Ihan and the old priest reached an understanding…

• “So, what should we do about them?”
• “……”

 

For the first time, the old priest looked troubled.

Eleven inquisitors, captured by Ihan.

Their fate remained undecided.

After a moment of contemplation, the old priest spoke.

• “Hmm, I’ll take those two with me.”
• “Them?”

 

He pointed at the priest who had spoken out first and the one who had been leading the inquisitors.

When asked why, he explained:

• “They are the adopted sons of senior priests. I suspect they were the ones who orchestrated this entire affair. Keeping them with me will prevent the senior priests from acting recklessly. The information they hold is likely highly incriminating for those priests as well.”

 

As expected of the old priest. Kind yet not ignorant of politics.

Still...

• “…Even in the temple, blood ties are everything, huh.”
• “……It is a disgrace.”

 

Once again, Ihan found himself incredulous at the absurdity of the situation, while the old priest let out a small sigh.

What to Do With the Remaining Nine

The old priest, still pondering the fate of the remaining nine inquisitors, finally spoke:

• “Hmm, I suppose you may handle them as you see fit, Brother. …However, to offer an excuse for them, these brothers were merely following their superiors' orders. So, please show them some mercy.”
• “Didn’t you say it wouldn’t matter if they left this world?”
• “Haha, but they survived, didn’t they? Then, they should at least get a taste of mercy.”
• “…That’s a very convenient kind of mercy.”

 

Ihan muttered as he turned his gaze to the nine leftovers.
Among them were those writhing in pain and even a red-haired woman dressed as a man.

After a moment of consideration, he addressed the junior instructor standing nearby.

• “Hey, Damien.”
• “Y-Yes, Instructor!!”
• “You’ve got new recruits.”
• “…What?”
• “Originally, I planned to work you into the ground for the remainder of your training. But it looks like we’ve got some fresh meat worse than you. So…”
• “….”
• “Handle them well. You’re their senior, after all.”
• “…!!!”

 

Ihan decided to bestow a gift upon Damien.

Interns.
And if they couldn’t do their jobs well, Damien was free to dispose of them.

Now, in the Present

“Stand properly, you idiots! You’ve been training for fifteen days now; shouldn’t you at least know how to form a line?! Why can’t you get something so simple right?!”
“……”
“No answer?”
“…We’re sorry.”
“Ha! Look at this pathetic excuse for a response! What’s the matter? You think it’s ridiculous that someone much younger than you is yelling at you?”
“…No, sir.”
“‘No’ my ass! It’s true, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Huh!”
“……”
“No answer!!”
“…It really isn’t, sir.”
“Then why does your voice sound like that? Are you sulking? Annoyed? If you didn’t want to be humiliated by someone younger, you should’ve become an instructor faster than me! Then you wouldn’t have to suffer this disgrace, huh? Isn’t it just pitiful?”
“……”
“Judging by your silence, you agree, huh?”
“N-No, sir!!”
“Look at me properly when you speak! And don’t yell too loudly. Someone might think I’m actually bullying you, huh?”
“…We’re sorry.”
“Why are your voices so weak…!!!”
“……”

Damien, now with subordinates of his own, had awakened.

He wasn’t just any instructor now.

“…That guy’s insane.”
“Damien’s been harboring a lot of grudges, so this is what we get.”
“Wow, if I had to deal with that, I’d want to end it all. That’s brutal.”

Damien had fully transformed into a mad dog.

Nitpicking over trivial matters, he had been drilling the interns mercilessly for over two hours.
The scene was exhausting to watch, and anyone observing it for long enough would eventually think...

“…Those interns better watch their backs at night.”

The sight made it seem like Damien might end up with a knife in his back, courtesy of the interns, during some moonlit stroll.
Even so, regardless of the inevitable tragedy this foreshadowed…

“Keep your eyes straight…!”

Damien was happy.

Truly and sincerely!

+++++

 

A Hidden Talent Revealed

“They say everyone has a hidden talent, and it turns out that guy had one too.”

Ihan was impressed.
Damien was breaking them down thoroughly.
No one had taught him this; he had instinctively learned how to torment his juniors.

It was natural talent.
A remarkable, newly blossomed gift.

“…Can that even be called talent…?”
“Kunta, I feel sorry for them.”
“Yeah, it reminds me of my days as a low-rank mercenary.”

That was the consensus among the three of them.

However, one of them was more interested in something else.

“That woman…”

Someone had taken an interest in the red-haired woman.

“What? Are you cheating now, timid boy?”
“N-No, of course not! Why would I cheat? I don’t even have a girlfriend.”
“…I’ll be sure to pass that message to Violet.”
“Why?”
“…Should I just beat you up too…?”
“??”
“…Never mind. Talking to you is a waste of breath.”

Listening to Taechang's remarks, Ihan couldn’t help but feel sorry for Violet.
What had possessed her to fall for someone like that?

While Ihan muttered to himself, Damien suddenly spoke.

“By the way, Instructor… isn’t that woman’s name Judea Pierre?”
“Judea? I don’t know about that, but Pierre sounds right. Why? Do you know her?”
“N-Not personally, but I couldn’t help but recognize her.”
“Why?”
“Well…”

As Taechang explained, Ihan’s gaze shifted toward the dark-skinned man.

“───!”

His face was a storm of emotions—shock, hatred, fury—all swirling together.
Ihan was momentarily taken aback.

And for good reason.

“She’s one of the three main villainesses in the original story. Known as the ‘Blood-Stained Flower’ alongside ‘The Poisonous Flower’ Irene. Judea Pierre even married the Duke of Roen but is now in the process of divorcing him.”

“…That guy’s divorced?”

Just how many genres did this man’s life span?

“Regression and divorce, huh….”

Ha…

Ihan finally understood why this guy was the protagonist of the original story.

“Divorced male leads were a trend back then.”

…Not a trend Ihan had ever wanted to experience.

For the first time, Ihan felt a sliver of pity.