“...No, seriously, how did you manage to tame a bee that can slaughter hundreds of wasps on its own?”
Ihan simply shrugged in response to his disciple’s genuine curiosity.
“I didn’t do anything. We just talked the first time we met, I gave them a potion on our second meeting, and after that, they suddenly started coming to me. Next thing I know, they’ve built a hive in the forest near my house.”
“...And that was enough for you to gain the champion of the beekeeping world? That’s absurd.”
“What do you mean, ‘gain’? We just became friends.”
“...Not servants?”
“......”
Buzzz.
Ihan’s new, exceptionally intelligent bee friends delivered a glass of water to where he was seated.
They carried it effortlessly, despite it being dozens of times heavier than their own bodies.
Seeing that, it was easy to understand why they had so many grand titles.
“Ahem, I said they’re friends.”
As a token of gratitude, Ihan handed the bees a bundle of fruit.
Buzzz!
Oh, they were absolutely thrilled.
“...F-Fruit?”
“They eat just about anything. Even meat. But they love sweet fruit the most—pineapples, mangoes, stuff like that. Got expensive tastes, these guys.”
“...And you didn’t think that was strange?”
“They’re spirit insects. It made sense.”
“......”
“Anyway, why are you here? You didn’t even say anything before showing up.”
Ihan finally turned his attention away from his new friends and gave a curt nod, gesturing for the visitor to get to the point.
His tone was rather cold, making Derrick flinch.
“I-Instructor, a-are you perhaps angry?”
“Why would I be? It’s not like skipping class without permission [N O V E L I G H T] and hanging around with your girlfriend is a crime.”
“...So you are mad.”
“I told you, I’m not. I just think you’re an ungrateful little bastard.”
“...That is being mad.”
Derrick hung his head.
As they say, no one knows their own sins better than themselves.
And Derrick was well aware he had quite a lot to be guilty of. A lot.
...But in his defense.
“I-I was keeping busy too! I used the valuable information you gave me to analyze the situation, dealt with the villains from the side chapters, teamed up with Lord Roen to take down another major villain, and also...”
The most uptodate nove𝙡s are published on frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓.
“...Dated?”
“......”
“You’re not even denying it anymore, huh? Guess you’ll be coming back as a father next time, you bastard.”
“I-I only held hands...!”
“So you really were off playing romance while I was out busting my ass, huh?”
“!?”
The world was truly unfair.
Wasn’t everyone out there falling in love and growing their beautiful relationships except for him?
It was just depressing.
‘Ah, this is why I’ve always hated Christmas.’
At least Christmas had some redeeming value, like the national birthrate spike, which he could view favorably.
But the fourteenth of certain months—when chocolate sales soared—was his most despised day of the year.
He continued staring at Derrick with an icy gaze, causing the younger man to panic and scramble for an excuse.
“I-I swear I didn’t skip class for no reason! P-Please believe me, Instructor...!”
“Bullshit. You think I don’t know you? You only come looking for me when you need help or have something to ask. If neither of those apply, you don’t even bother showing up.”
“......”
“See? Knew it.”
“...I’m just garbage.”
Derrick promptly slammed his forehead against the ground.
Any more attempts at an excuse would only highlight his sheer ingratitude.
...The kid’s been through some shit.
Despite his harsh words, Ihan could tell from the calluses on Derrick’s hands and the scars scattered across his body that he had been working hard in his own way.
‘Hmm. He mentioned taking down a trade guild with that Black Wolf guy, didn’t he?’
Apparently, Derrick and Taechang had fought a fierce battle against a trade guild.
And from what Ihan had heard, that guild was actually the financial backbone of a cult.
‘Bringing down a corporate giant, huh? I would’ve liked a piece of that action.’
In this world, trade guilds were basically massive corporations—no, megacorps.
Not only did they wield immense financial power, but they also had private mercenary armies and combat divisions to match.
And yet, two cadets had managed to topple one? That was impressive.
Of course, Ihan already knew that. But since they hadn’t come bragging about their exploits, he decided not to shower them with praise either.
‘Hmph. These punks sure pick the weirdest times to be considerate.’
They probably realized how swamped he had been recently and chose not to burden him with unnecessary details.
Though he gave them a hard time, Ihan felt a satisfied smile tug at his lips.
It felt like they had matured a little.
‘...Am I getting old?’
He felt a strange twinge of sentimentality.
But that feeling didn’t last long.
Because—
“Instructor, you... met with the head of House Offen recently, right?”
“Hm?”
“I-I know this might sound weird, but... was he, uh... alive?”
“......”
“H-He wasn’t, you know, a... zombie or something, was he?”
“......Face. On the ground.”
“Uh...?”
“Head. On. The ground. Now.”
“......”
“Do it.”
“Y-Yes, sir...!”
The sheer audacity of treating a perfectly healthy person like the walking dead was enough to make Ihan click his tongue in exasperation.
Seriously.
‘Just when I was about to compliment him...’
This was exactly why they said loose lips were the root of all evil.
***
“—He was supposed to be dead?”
“Y-Yes....”
After spending fifteen minutes in the push-up position as punishment, Derrick clutched his head, looking utterly miserable.
But Ihan ignored him, tilting his head in mild confusion.
“...He looked perfectly fine to me.”
Ihan recalled his meeting with Iliad from just half a day ago.
Not only was the man alive, but he had been so absorbed in preparing for his new artwork that his clothes were stained with paint.
And yet, this was the same man who was supposedly...
“‘Half a year ago’ he was supposed to die... Hm. Are you sure you didn’t get it wrong?”
“N-No, I’m certain. As far as I know, the head of House Offen was supposed to pass away half a year ago.”
“...Cause of death?”
“W-Wait, are you actually believing me?”
“You’re not the type to spout nonsense.”
“T-Thank you.”
“Forget the thanks. Just keep talking.”
“O-Okay....”
Derrick continued his explanation.
“Well, I didn’t see him die myself, but I remember a line from Arno.”
“A game dialogue?”
“Yes. It was from a scene where second-year Arno, looking sorrowful, runs into the heroine and has a conversation.”
In the game, there was a specific line that appeared in that moment.
—Are you referring to my father? He passed away not long after I entered the academy. His illness worsened...
“...After that, Arno becomes the next head of the family but later transfers that position to the Swordmaster. He then joins the mercenary corps founded by Garland to gain worldly experience, eventually rising to become the second-in-command alongside Kunta. That’s the core premise of Unsung Heroes, one of the game’s side stories.”
“...There are side stories too?”
“Our company put a lot of effort into the game. The amount of content is massive.”
“......”
“Instructor?”
“...I just can’t make sense of it.”
“What, how a game like this even came out of Korea? Well, that’s thanks to some insane investors—”
“No, not that. I mean... that guy was perfectly healthy. And you’re telling me he had a terminal illness?”
“??”
“There’s no way.”
Ihan wasn’t just making baseless claims.
He wasn’t a doctor, but his instincts alone were enough to assess someone’s physical condition.
Distinguishing between a healthy person and a sick one was simple for him.
And from what he saw...
“He wasn’t just fine—he was fit enough to live a long, healthy life.”
Ihan was certain.
His legs might not have been in the best condition, but there was no trace of any life-threatening illness in Iliad’s body.
So that meant...
“You either remember it wrong, or something’s been messed with.”
“Messed with...?”
“...Have we been making too many changes?”
“Technically, we haven’t—you have.”
“Shh! Watch your mouth.”
“......”
Damn brat. But Derrick wasn’t wrong.
Ihan had already overturned a great number of “predetermined” events.
Even the smallest butterfly’s wingbeat could alter the course of history—so what happened when Ihan himself was a full-blown hurricane?
‘...Yeah, I did break a lot of things, huh?’
He casually stretched out his fingers, counting on them as he recalled the past three years since becoming a knight.
“Handed those bastards over to my sister, wiped out all the sorcerers, got rid of—how many slave traders was it again?”
“......”
“Ahem, well, minor details.”
“...Instructor, what have you been doing?”
“Just living my life.”
“...If you ‘live your life’ any harder, meteors are gonna start falling.”
“Saw one two years ago.”
“......”
“That one was tough to stop.”
“...Excuse me, what.”
Taechang was burning with curiosity, but Ihan ignored him, deep in thought about the Offen family situation.
If what Derrick said was true, then his interference had caused some kind of shift—one significant enough that Iliad Offen, who was supposed to be dead, was still alive.
That should be a good thing.
Ihan should feel proud of himself.
And yet...
‘...Something’s off.’
He was certain Iliad had no illness.
But in the game, the younger wolf (Arno) claimed that his father had died from one.
The pieces didn’t add up.
And just as Ihan was about to ask something else—
CRASH!
“...?”
His words died in his throat as he turned to see a massive figure rolling across his front yard.
“...Kunta?”
“I-Instructor... K-Kunta... hurts...”
“......”
Covered in wounds and gasping for air, Kunta looked utterly beaten down.
But before Ihan could even process his injuries, he turned to glare at Derrick.
“...You goddamn walking disaster magnet.”
“...H-How is this my fault!?”
“Oh, it’s definitely your fault.”
“......”
Ihan had a very reasonable suspicion that none of this would have happened if Derrick had just kept his damn mouth shut today.
“K-Kunta... hurts...?”
The poor guy whimpered, his face twisted in agony.
And this—this was why being a foreigner in an unfamiliar land was always a miserable experience.