By Zephyria 
Professor Blanc Cooper’s Growth and Reflection class was one that all my close companions attended together.
Blanc Cooper was a tall, shapely man. He was neatly dressed in a plain white robe, its hemline, long like a woman’s skirt, reaching his ankles and scattering a faint light. It was strange. It was the first time I had seen such attire since coming to Sierren.
I turned to look at the children, wondering if I should ask them what kind of clothes they were, but instead, I saw Marianne’s upper body leaning forward, a gentle smile on her face. A silly laugh escaped me. It must be that the attire suited Marianne’s taste.
Thinking this, I turned to the other side and quietly asked Ivan.
“What kind of clothes are those?”
“They are priestly robes. Those who are verified among those who believe in God always wear these clothes.”
It seemed similar to the way the high monks of Shaolin wore their robes. There was a reason why the attire was unfamiliar to me. Ernhardt and Valentia believed more in human strength than in the power of God.
“Welcome, everyone. I am the first Apostle of God, Blanc Cooper.”
The first Apostle of God? Did God have a first and a second? As I sat there in confusion, Professor Blanc added a gentle explanation in his soft voice.
“None of you here have likely heard of God’s name.”
In the myths of this land, there were nine gods. The first god, the second god… all of them were nameless. The deeds of one god sometimes overlapped with another. This was because all the gods had joined forces to create this world. However, the fierce god who killed the seventh and eighth gods and then fell into eternal slumber was called the ninth god. Therefore, the explanation was that all priests in this land called themselves apostles of the first god.
“In this class, we will begin each session with a brief prayer.”
This, too, was an unfamiliar practice. A child in the distance raised their hand and asked,
“What should I think about when praying?”
“It would be good to think about what you desire most.”
Blanc Cooper’s voice was consistently like a song, secretive, kind, and serene.
“Isn’t God the one who listens to stories you can’t tell to friends or family? If you consistently ponder and think about what you wish for, you will know the path you must take.”
I clasped my hands together and bowed my head as the man instructed. I closed my eyes. I already knew the answer to what I truly desired. I wished for those around me, for everyone in this land, to be peaceful and happy. Even though it was just a thought in my mind, I felt a sense of peace after recalling these righteous words. He said that if I thought about it consistently, I could achieve it. …It somehow made me understand why Michael liked theological texts.
“May all your wishes come true. La Prira Et-sa.”
It seemed I was not the only one puzzled by the unfamiliar prayer that followed his words. A few children repeated the refrain. Ivan whispered to me that the refrain meant, “All things shall be accomplished in the name of God.”
After the prayer, Blanc Cooper told us the story of the Creation Myth of the Nine Gods. On the sixth day of the world, created by the combined efforts of the nine gods, three gods loved the humans created then, fought amongst themselves, killing two… It was a story so familiar it was tedious. It was Michael’s favorite story, and because Blanc Cooper’s voice was gentle and clear, I listened without distraction.
❖ ❖ ❖
Wednesday. Professor Calypse, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, looked quite displeased upon seeing me. Considering the various events we had shared, it was understandable. However, no other class provided me with such an easy and clear understanding of the world’s flow as the Imperial Genealogy class. Even Shayden, who was reluctant to repeatedly attend beginner and intermediate swordsmanship classes, made sure not to miss the Imperial Genealogy class, which showed how important it was.
I scanned Professor Calypse from head to toe. Seeing that he looked healthy, I felt relieved. Yes, that Walter fellow seemed to have come to his senses now. My heart felt glad.
“…Today, we will spend more time examining the Duke Family of Kiadris. There have been inaccurate rumors circulating regarding the engagement ceremony between the First Prince and Lady Hestia Yeldithus, which was scheduled for this summer but was postponed.”
It was also Calypse Agrigent’s duty to prevent academy students from being swayed by inaccurate information. I quietly opened my notebook. The current Duchess of Kiadris was named Delphinia Kiadris. She had three men. The Duke Consort was a man from a Baron’s family, who married Delphinia, then twenty, at the age of eighteen. It was then that Wesley Kiadris was born. Delphinia, disliking her husband’s prim demeanor, immediately took a concubine the year after their marriage. Humbert Kiadris was born from her second concubine. Because of this, the Duke’s relationship with her husband soured, leading to a long period of estrangement. She then took a third concubine, who was one of her escorts. From her was born Poplar Kiadris, who is the subject of the current incident. When the Duke Consort was greatly disheartened by this and shed tears and became angry, Delphinia comforted him, and somehow, their fourth son, Edwin Kiadris, was born.
The Sierran Empire valued love and revered monogamy, so Duchess Kiadris’s conduct was widely criticized. However, her own parents, who should have guided her onto the right path, died in a carriage accident when Delphinia was fifteen. She herself possessed transcendent martial prowess, befitting the name “Sword of Kiadris.” Her personality was harsh and violent, and coupled with her martial skill, there was no one brave enough to point out her conduct to her face.
1st Prince Richard Flo Searon was now twenty years old. Poplar Kiadris was nineteen, and Hestia Yeldithus was currently eighteen, so both were of suitable age.
“The assessments of Poplar Kiadris’s personality flaws and appearance that are currently circulating are all nonsense. Poplar Kiadris, like the Duchess of Kiadris, has red hair and purple eyes, and her personality is unknown as she has never appeared in high society.”
Therefore, the advice was not to listen to baseless rumors. As always, Calypse Agrigent pulled a chair to the bottom right of the blackboard after finishing his lecture. As I watched him count through his files, Shayden nudged my forearm with his elbow.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
“I’m thinking about Wesley Kiadris. I’m curious about his personality.”
“Huh?”
I drew a line in the margin of my notebook and tried to figure out the sequence.
“When Wesley graduated at sixteen, he reached the highest level of Sword Expert and immediately ascended the Yuil Mountains to become a Sword Master. Then, at twenty-one, as soon as he became a Grand Sword Master, he joined the Imperial Palace’s royal guard, and now he’s thirty.”
“Yes, that’s right?”
“Then Wesley joined the Imperial Palace’s royal guard when the First Prince was eleven.”
“…Uh, so?”
“Why did he choose the First Prince and not Rubel?”
Shayden looked down at my notes instead of answering. It was the section where Wesley’s and Richard’s names were written. I continued hesitantly,
“…There are so many stories about the First Prince’s personality, but unlike Poplar Kiadris, who was raised in secret, the fact that there’s so little gossip about Grand Sword Master Wesley… it feels strange.”
“…You’re right… Wesley isn’t the Emperor, so his personality should be somewhat known. And there’s no information about the people he’s close to…”
I had heard a great deal about Wesley Kiadris since coming to the academy. I had heard so many stories about when he trained, what swordplay he practiced consistently, that he felt almost familiar. However, I had never heard anything about his personality. It was said that he had no one close to him, regardless of whether they were seniors or juniors. Maelo Sanson seemed to see him often, but even Sanson only said that he was a man who took no interest in anything other than swordsmanship.
Shayden, who had been staring at my notes for a while, shrugged.
“I don’t know either. Maybe he’s just selective about people. Like you, completely absorbed in swords.”
“…Is that so?”
If the First Prince was as cold as the rumors suggested, I thought Rubel, who was more endearing, would have been more easily favored. However, if one thought about it carefully, the First Prince might be easier to handle than Rubel, whom the Empress doted on, so perhaps he could be supported by someone with ambition. I tried to suppress the pleased feeling of being moved by my own growth into making such political considerations.
In any case, it was understandable that Edwin Kiadris would be in conflict with his older siblings. His siblings with the same father had left home long ago, and of the two siblings with different fathers, both were older than him, so I felt pity for how much the young one must have been bullied.
In the evening, I walked alone. Until now, I had been busy attending classes for most of the day, and this was the first time in nearly two years that I had the chance to explore the campus in daylight. I visited several martial arts training grounds, stopped by the library and cafeteria, and briefly visited the familiar pond. Seeing it in the bright daylight, it had a different charm than at night, which I enjoyed.
As the sunset gently brushed my feet, I met Wilton Roberts in a familiar small training ground. Wilton first checked if my throwing knife technique had dulled during the break. I could now throw knives with swift skill, or in several graceful arcs. Wilton nodded approvingly, recognizing the skill honed through consistent practice. If I could reach a higher realm and achieve Telekinesis or Energy Sword Control, I would be able to retrieve the knives I threw. My heart fluttered with various daydreams. Wilton declared that he would now teach me how to finely control the small muscles in my body. It was an obsessive study of how to move my fingers, not thinking of using my hands, but having each knuckle move together or independently. I was excited to contemplate for the first time the different sensations felt by the skin just below my fingernails and the skin below the second knuckle of my fingers. It was a unique perspective. Greatly impressed and moved, I came to revere Wilton.