Episode 207

The night outing that had drained every ounce of my energy had finally ended. It felt less like a short trip outside and more like wandering for several days before returning home.

I slipped off my coat with a sigh as I stepped into my room. I was not especially sleepy, yet my mind felt exhausted. After tidying my things and washing up, I collapsed onto the bed. Sleeping was not my intention just yet. The sky was already paling, and dawn threatened to break at any moment. Once morning came, the physician would arrive, which meant I had to stay awake.

I exhaled, letting my body sink into the sickbed. I never thought I would grow fond of this place that reeked of medicine, yet now I almost missed it. Even the medicinal meals would taste good right now.

I had gone out simply to enjoy a proper meal, only to be caught up in absurd misfortune. What did that mean? If the food here had been delicious, none of that disaster would have happened.

Suddenly, I feel angry…

Suddenly, a surge of anger rose in my chest. I pushed myself upright on the bed and sat cross-legged by the window, determined to calm my mind and circulate my internal energy. By the time warmth crept from the crown of my head, I slowly opened my eyes. Beyond the window stretched a brilliant sunrise.

“It is much better.”

Humans also needed sunlight. In moments desperate for light, simply basking in the sun could heal the heart. I let the warmth seep into me, steadying my condition until the physician arrived with the day’s medicine.

He held it out, but I shook my head. “I don’t think I need this anymore. I’m fully recovered.”

“Haha, you jest…”

“Would you like to check for yourself?”

“What?”

The physician studied my expression, then nodded in agreement. Soon, surprise spread across his face. “How can this be? Those wounds should have kept you bedridden for at least a month. Your recovery is monstrous.”

How rude. He regarded me as if I were something inhuman, so I offered an excuse. “I grew up eating rich food since childhood. My body is pretty strong.”

The physician nodded in understanding. “Ah, right. You are a Badniker…”

It was rumored that the Badnikers’ descendants grew strong from elixirs rather than ordinary food.

By that standard, I was hardly someone to be dismissed for my recovery speed…

Still, after witnessing Maxim’s power yesterday, my confidence had wavered. Perhaps if I mastered the first level of the First Fire Technique, I could reach that level too.

“With this condition, you should have no trouble moving about,” the physician said.

“Good. Does that mean I can leave?”

“Yes, though I must stress—no overexertion.”

I nodded. Soon, the academy would receive a report from this physician confirming my full recovery, and it would not be long before the imperial palace responded as well. Last night, such news would have filled me with dread, but after facing the Iron-Blood Duke himself, the thought of appearing before the court no longer weighed on me.

After skipping the tasteless breakfast and stretching my stiff limbs, I received a summons from Professor Morland. He was currently the acting dean and stood as the strongest candidate for permanent appointment.

Meeting him in person, I found he looked younger than expected—no more than his thirties. Appearances, however, mattered little among this academy’s faculty.

“You must be Hero Disciple Luan. This is our first time meeting in person, correct? I am Morland, the acting dean,” he introduced himself.

“A pleasure.”

“Likewise.” Morland studied me and said, “The dean asked me to ensure your stay here is as comfortable as possible. Even without his request, I would have done the same. Hero Disciple Luan, you are the hero who saved the academy.”

“Um, thank you.”

His tone carried genuine gratitude, not mere formality. He clearly cared deeply for the academy. Even if Alderson lost his position as the dean, Cartel Academy would remain in capable hands.

“Soon, the imperial court will summon you,” Morland continued.

“There must be some who haven’t regained their senses yet, right?” I asked.

“That’s correct. However, you are their representative and have been discharged, Hero Disciple Luan. The imperial court will overlook the others.”

“Representative? Me?”

“Of course. Didn’t you show the most outstanding performance?” Morland smiled. “It is said His Majesty the Emperor plans to commend you. It is truly a great honor.”

I took a deep breath.

It felt unreal. The current emperor, the Lotus Jade Emperor, was famed for a gentle heart like a lotus and a beauty as flawless as jade. His body, however, was frail, and he had rarely shown himself in public. I had never seen him before, neither in my past life nor this one.

“I understand. By the way, where are the other hero disciples? I heard some of them were in poor condition.”

“They were in the same ward as you. Did you not meet them?”

“Ah… I didn’t. I stayed cooped up in my room.”

It was said that the darkest place was right under the lamp. That was exactly the case here.

“Mir Giant is still unconscious and Charon Woodjack… His condition is very bad,” Morland told me.

“He hasn’t received proper treatment?”

“Regrettably, no.”

I tilted my head. “That makes no sense. The academy hosts a high priest of the Seventy-Two Churches. Even if wounds from miasma are difficult to treat, a Bishop’s divine power should suffice easily.”

“That is true, but…”

I frowned. “Is there some political reason?”

“No. Frankly, that would have been preferable. The truth is… embarrassing. We are at an impasse.”

“What do you mean?”

“As you mentioned, a Bishop of the Seventy-Two Churches has arrived at the academy, but he is quite young and rather unruly…”

What nonsense was this?

“How unruly is he that he doesn’t even treat someone?” My voice carried disbelief.

“He is His Holiness the Pope’s youngest son. Though blessed with immense innate divine power, he is notoriously lacking in character. Unfortunately, he was the only Bishop available to travel here…”

“I see.”

In a word, he was a spoiled brat.

As a former spoiled brat myself, my curiosity prickled alongside my irritation. If I wanted to prevent any lasting effects from Charon’s injury, it was important to treat him as soon as possible.

“Where is he now?” I asked.

***

According to Morland, the Bishop of the Seventy-Two Churches was impossibly busy. Even now, while visiting the academy, he was supposedly buried in a backlog of work in his quarters.

Naturally, this had a 100% chance of being a lie.

“I heard several eyewitness reports that he was wandering around the shopping area during the festival period.”

“The shopping area?”

“Yes.Normally, the academy isn’t open to outsiders. It is rare for people to gather like this.At most, it is an event that happens once or twice a year.Therefore, the shopping area has become lively, reminiscent of a festival.”

Morland had done his best to cover up the Bishop’s actions, but the truth was clear: this wastrel strolled through the streets of the shopping area as if it were his own home.

I don’t like him.

I knew nothing about how divine power worked—the way it was charged, its limits, or the exhaustion it caused. But even if using it was difficult, the people lying on sickbeds deserved treatment. Yet, the one responsible for them was out wandering the shopping area instead of doing his duty.

My fist felt strangely itchy. Of course, the Bishop of the Seventy-Two Churches was not someone I could attack on impulse. Still, I wanted to see for myself what he was doing.

I had heard he usually wandered in the afternoon, so I decided to eat at the student cafeteria before heading to the shopping area. After receiving three servings, I started eating, but I could feel eyes on me from every direction. It felt as if they had never seen anyone eat before, but I understood why when I caught the murmurs from the crowd.

“That hero disciple is Luan Badniker, right?”

“He’s the one who actually resolved this situation.”

“Wow. I heard the Badnikers’ youngest son was beyond saving. That must have been false.”

“By the way, doesn’t he look rough? Totally the opposite of Hector…”

I’m sorry that I look this way.

It couldn’t be helped. Hector resembled a nobleman in every way—appearance, behavior, even etiquette. Compared to him, it was unsurprising that my demeanor seemed coarse.

Now I’m pissed. Thanks to Hector, I had become the target of unfair comparisons. My brother is such a bastard. Next time we meet, I might forgive him, but Good and Manners won’t.

Perhaps because of my rough image, no one dared bother me while I ate. I ignored the stares, finished the meal, and prepared to head to the shopping area. Still, the attention clung to me, forcing me to stop at the inn to disguise myself as Nalu.

I flexed my hand. The disguise was flawless, though I felt some restriction in my strength. It didn’t matter. I only intended to observe and speak.

Nalu’s face drew its own share of glances, yet in daylight, no one dared start a fight.

Is this the tavern where the Bishop often eats?

The tavern looked upscale, a rare high-rise in the shopping area. From this height, the Twilight River stretched into view, offering a perfect scene for a sunset meal.

Could such a luxury establishment operate regularly? I doubted students would dare enter; it seemed a place favored by faculty.

“Welcome. How many in your party?”

“Just me. Can I dine on the top floor?”

“The upper floors require an additional fee.”

I didn’t do anything as stupid as ask for the price and just smiled. “That’s fine.”

Once guided to the top floor, I pretended to examine the menu. First, I observed the patrons already there.

“That’s when I said it! What do the pagans who haven’t even met the gods know?”

“Ohh…”

“As expected of the Bishop!”

Of course. If he were an indulgent, wasteful priest, it made perfect sense that he would dine on the top floor.

I glanced at the rowdy table. Six men drank heavily in broad daylight. At the head of the table lounged a man with slick features who looked far too young for his position—barely thirty, if that.

Is he the Bishop?

If he walked the streets like this, even the most devout would start doubting their faith. He was a walking generator of atheism.

“Phew… Now I feel a bit better,” the Bishop murmured.

“Something troubled you, my lord?”

“Yes! Last night’s incident…”

“Last night? Did you go out at night?”

“W-what? N-no! Of course not. I was in my room, as you all know.”

“Sh, but—”

“Now, now. Let’s stop talking about boring things and have another drink!” The Bishop forced a cheerful toast, trying to smooth over the moment. It struck me as faintly comical that a man of the cloth was downing wine instead of beer.

That aside… I tilted my head and studied the Bishop of the Seventy-Two Churches. Why do I feel like I have seen this person before, and where was it?

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