Chapter 166: A Walking Textbook (2)
The people I usually see in the club room are more or less the same: club members, Marghetta, Villar, sometimes the Vice Principal, and occasionally Irina. There aren’t many other visitors.
In that regard, the person standing in front of me is, indeed, a fresh new face. Should I give them a present or something?
“I apologize for the sudden visit! However, I needed to seek advice from the Prosecutor, and I took the liberty of coming here!”
And it seems like this newcomer actually wants something from me as a gift.
Lucky me. I was worried about how to entertain them since I didn’t really have anything prepared.
“Please have a seat. Let’s take our time to discuss what brings you here.”
“Yes!”
I couldn’t just leave my guest standing around awkwardly, so I guided them to a seat.
‘Word travels fast.’
Did the teacher rush over out of sheer urgency? No, he introduced himself as Gerhardt, a history teacher, and his face was flushed.
It must be because of the comments I made to the club members yesterday. I highly doubt he’d come here for any other reason.
‘How did he hear about it?’
I told the kids to stick with what they’ve learned and not to worry about what I said. And here we are, not even 24 hours later!
Whatever mystery unfolded this morning doesn’t concern me. It’s enough that he looks ready to spill everything without me even asking!
“Is it okay if I call you Mr. Gerhardt?”
“Yes! Feel free to call me however you like!”
I should probably make him feel at ease first.
“With a single gold coin, you can feed the children of an orphanage, and with ten silver coins, the poor of an entire city can enjoy a warm winter!”
“Understood! Now, please go back! Isn’t it enough if I just give more?”
So, the two of them started what could be described as a verbal duel, albeit with the Minister of Welfare putting on a one-sided moral show.
But at moments like these, telling someone to calm down tends to backfire. They’ll settle down on their own time.
“Alright, then. So, Mr. Gerhardt, you want my advice?”
I had a rough idea but asked for politeness’ sake.
Gerhardt would surely calm down once he started explaining his reasons for visiting.
—
History is the refinement of nobility. It’s important to know the events each country has undergone and how different families have risen and fallen. If you’re a noble, that’s just how it must be. It’s fundamental to social interactions, especially for commoner students who mingle with the aristocracy.
But that’s about it. Training in such knowledge is broad but doesn’t go deep; it’s all about trivia rather than specialization. The importance of history was limited to that extent.
And of course, the current curriculum focuses primarily on the empire, with histories of other nations barely acknowledged.
‘What about the nomads?’
Nomads are simply that—nomads! Just wandering entities of the north, who have never united into a meaningful force. Hence, they have no real study value and are only known for “this is how they live.”
That was the historical perspective of nomads until four years ago.
Four years ago, nomads formed a cohesive force, creating their own systems and facing the empire on their terms. They could no longer be dismissed as research-devoid subjects.
‘Too bad, no sources.’
The issue was lacking means for study. The academic community had long ignored nomads for good reason.
In fact, they weren’t deemed worth the effort. But now and then, some adventurous scholars took a shot at studying nomads, only to waste their time and end up with nothing. And there’s a reason for that!
Nomads had writing, but it varied by tribe, and the lifespan of their symbols was short. Besides, nomads couldn’t care less about documenting their history. It’s a perfect storm of difficulty.
If the Gar tribe had unified the nomads, I briefly hoped we’d see an age of standardized writing. But, like a house of cards, it crumbled after two years without anything significant recorded.
‘One step at a time.’
Just thinking about it makes me dizzy, but that’s the only way. Those who are unsatisfied need to make an effort.
Of course, it’s no easy task. Records about nomads are minimal, and far fewer of those records were left by the nomads themselves. The scripts used varied widely, including some that had fallen into obscurity.
I had to piece everything together little by little. The pace was sluggish, but progress was indeed made. There were probably many mistakes along the way, but trying is what matters!
“Here it is, sir.”
“Thank you for your hard work.”
Then, as if from nowhere, a miracle occurred.
“Sarei Dobra Tala?”
While glancing through Tannian’s submitted answer sheet, my gaze froze. My hand quivered momentarily. What I taught was “Sareitou Dobra Gala.”
’How on earth…’
This name was among those that had given me a headache trying to interpret. Torn between “Sarei” and “Sareitou,” I chose the latter, a decision I hadn’t disclosed to anyone!
“Tannian, what’s this answer?”
“Ah.”
Tannian gasped, as if he realized he had slipped up.
“I’m sorry! I wrote it wrong.”
I almost brushed it off with a smile, but I couldn’t do that. This was a golden opportunity to advance research and interpretation. Did the Holy Kingdom keep any unique records?
After some persistence, I finally got Tannian to truly reveal the truth behind his submission.
‘The advisor.’
The advisor of the pastry club, the academy’s prosecutor.
Hearing that sent shivers down my spine but also filled me with excitement. The answer was closer than I thought!
At that moment, my scholarly passion triumphed over the normal fears of human beings.
—
I nearly applauded Gerhardt’s animated speech. His bravery in seeking me out for the truth is genuinely moving.
“Understood. I’ll share whatever I know.”
“Thank you so much! Really, thank you!”
So I promised to share as much advice as I could. It’s only fair that brave people receive appropriate rewards.
Moreover, since the emperor himself allowed the six swords’ names to be spread, there’s no need to be cautious. As more people learn about the North, those names will spread faster.
That means I could help again and again. A little inconvenience is a small price to pay for an acceptable outcome.
‘You must know your enemies are strong for your fame to grow!’
It’s just like Guan Yu; he became famous for taking down renowned generals like Yan Liang and Wen Chou. Honestly, if he only captured lesser figures like Mu An or Yang Hong, he wouldn’t be nearly as famous!
—
Discussing history in the pastry club room seemed oddly imbalanced, so we relocated. That’s when I caught a familiar scent in this new setting.
‘This is the professor’s lab.’
I was taken aback, realizing I did not expect to come across this place, a setting I barely escaped from before my possession.
There’s even someone squirming in the corner. That’s totally like a university…
“Please, make yourself comfortable! Miss Christina, could you prepare some tea for our guest?”
“Yes…”
Almost helplessly, I felt my eyes about to close at that drawn-out voice. Yes, it’s definitely the slave I was considering.
Still, I deliberately averted my gaze. The slaves who have willingly given up their rights seem to suffer most from the sympathetic gazes of others.
I don’t know why they made such choices, but there must be deeper reasons. I somehow ended up as a civil servant myself.
“I can’t express how grateful I am that the Prosecutor has agreed to help.”
“Is that so?”
Gerhardt beamed, slapping a stack of papers on the desk. Are these all sources?
‘More than I expected.’
I heard they were struggling with a lack of sources, but perhaps this wasn’t considered enough for researchers.
Gerhardt must have understood my look, as his smiling expression shifted awkwardly.
“These contain my interpretations and some of Christina’s work mixed in.”
“You must have put in a lot of effort.”
Thinking of the dedication required to extract something valuable out of so little made me feel solemn. Such fervor could lead to success in any field, yet it was invested in this tough terrain.
Despite that, with diligent individuals, it wouldn’t be right to say, ‘Hey, this is a dead end. Just start over.’ Besides, spreading the history of the North benefits me too!
Grabbing a portion of the stack, I began to sift through it. I’d adjust all the typos for starters, and then I could go ahead and talk about the rest.
Suddenly, something caught my eye, making me question my observation.
“Excuse me, Mr. Gerhardt, what’s this?”
“Ah, that’s Christina’s thesis. As an assistant teacher, she must report her achievements in her field.”
He added, “It’s been a few months in progress, and it’s quite decent work,” which left me speechless.
‘Of all things…’
Thinking of it as a master’s thesis made it hard to breathe. One wrong word from me, and that thesis will be whisked away faster than you can say ‘dissertation!’
“Prosecutor? Is there a problem…?”
Sensing my unease, Gerhardt cautiously asked. Christina, entering with tea, looked at me with eyes wide in anxiety.
…Yeah, this was going to come out sooner or later. Better to address it before submission than after, or that could lead to a much bigger mess!
“About this thesis…”
I set down Christina’s—no, the assistant’s—thesis and pointed at its title.
More specifically, I pointed at the two names listed there.
[ Aridu Keza, Udesr Zairug ]
It wasn’t a typo. As far as I knew, the names were correct.
The issue was that the thesis suggested these two were different individuals.
“These two are the same person.”
“…What?”
Gerhardt’s voice emerged in utter disbelief.
Crash—!
The sound of a tray dropping echoed behind Gerhardt as Christina fumbled.
But I didn’t even glance back.
I’ve effectively been blind since yesterday…
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