Chapter 163: Departure Festival (1)
The classroom felt even emptier than usual.
No, it wasn’t just a feeling—several seats here and there were visibly vacant.
As if to fill those gaps, the afternoon sunlight quietly seeped into the empty spots.
Meanwhile, the loud chimes announcing the opening of the Departure Festival, which would continue for several days, rang out clearly even from afar.
Perhaps it was the festive atmosphere getting to everyone.
Far more seats were empty than those students who had been pre-approved to be absent.
Still, Windy May, floating above the podium as always, didn’t seem to care much.
“So, here’s the thing. Just because they’re all dragons doesn’t mean they like the same things. Just like people all have different tastes, dragons each have their own preferences too.”
In fact, she was continuing the class in a more relaxed manner than usual.
…No, to be honest, it was questionable whether it could even be called a class at this point.
Today’s lesson was supposed to be about the history and origins of magic.
Ancient magic, long believed to be extinct.
But starting with its revival by Talia Poas, through Arpentia, and even reaching Archmage Edas, modern magic had seen a resurrection...
Normally, this would’ve been the time to go over the long and grand history and flow of magic as an academic field.
However, the discussion had long since veered off into a strange topic.
As if to prove it, Windy May was endlessly rattling off completely useless and trivial stories about dragons.
It all began when someone offhandedly asked her—a well-known Dragon Slayer—about dragons.
Apparently bored herself, Windy May had jumped at the chance, eyes sparkling with excitement as she launched into a cheerful ramble.
“Still, while there are some similarities in their preferences depending on where they live or the color of their scales, there are also differences, right? For example, red-scaled ones generally only eat meat grilled over lava, while blue-scaled ones usually won’t even touch anything unless it’s deep-sea fish or seafood.”
Windy May shook her head as if exasperated.
“The funny thing is, they never respect each other’s tastes. If something doesn’t fit their standards, they insist it’s not even food.”
Muttering like she’d been personally wronged, she added:
“I once offered a dragon some mint-eggplant-cucumber juice, saying it was really good and asked if he’d like to try it. But he gave me this look—like I was insane for drinking something so bizarre. How rude! Don’t you all think that’s rude too?”
“……”
“……”
“……”
A juice made from blending eggplant, mint, and cucumber—a bizarre combination, to say the least.
The students wrinkled their faces or made odd expressions, each imagining the taste.
Most looked utterly disgusted at the mere thought, but Windy May seemed oblivious to the mood in the room.
‘…Fair enough.’
Lian silently sympathized with the nameless dragon.
In truth, anyone—dragon or not—would likely have given her a weird look over such a drink.
Even Airos had once made it quite clear that he found Windy May annoying.
And Windy May hadn’t hidden her dislike of Airos either.
“If you don’t believe me, next time you meet a dragon, just ask them yourself. You’ll see how stubbornly they cling to their own preferences.”
“Oh, come on, Professor. Dragons aren’t exactly easy to meet, you know.”
“Oh, stop with the ignorant talk.”
Windy May waved her index finger left and right with an exaggerated motion.
Click, click. She made the sound with her mouth, then shrugged.
“Right here at the Academy alone, there are two… no, two and a half… Wait, maybe three? Anyway, there are that many.”
The students burst into laughter at Windy May’s words.
They probably thought she was joking.
Lian could only offer an awkward smile.
Anyway, the conversation flowed and flowed until it somehow reached the topic of dragons’ obsessive hoarding habits.
“And it’s hard to find creatures as childish as dragons.”
Windy May sighed as she muttered.
“Once they decide they want something, they’ll do whatever it takes to get it and stash it away in their nest. They don’t care if it belongs to someone else or not. They just grab it, saying ‘Mine!’ and take it.”
“So is that why dragon lairs are full of treasure?”
“That’s just a legend.”
Windy May shook her head.
“Each dragon has a different idea of what treasure is. Some hoard actual treasure like the student said, others collect ancient artifacts or paintings, and some gather random little pebbles… it varies.”
She crossed her arms, putting on a deliberately serious expression.
Then, for just a brief moment, her eyes met Lian’s as she murmured:
“…Sometimes, those old tales about princesses being kidnapped by dragons came from that. There were dragons who, upon seeing a person, thought they wanted them—and just took them away and locked them up in their nest.”
“…So… what happens then?”
Windy May shrugged again as if to say, ‘Why are you asking me?’
“Who knows? I’ve never been kidnapped myself, so I can’t say. But it probably wouldn’t end well. Like I said before, dragons are as unpredictable and, when you get down to it, childish as they come.”
Just then, the bell signaling the end of class rang out.
At that sound, Windy May clapped her hands as if she had been waiting for it.
"Alright then, shall we wrap it up for today? You all should go enjoy the festival."
There wasn’t even any need for her to urge them.
The moment class ended, most of the students rushed out of the classroom in a hurry.
However, instead of leaving, Lian and Cecilia approached Windy May.
That was because she had told them beforehand to come see her briefly after class.
"Mm, it's nothing serious, really."
Well, it wasn’t not serious either…
For some reason, Windy May muttered with a slightly awkward expression.
"I almost forgot to hand this to the two of you."
She carefully pulled something out from inside her robe and handed it to them.
"Here. This is for you two."
"…What is this, Professor?"
Lian hesitated as he looked at the scroll she gave him.
The scroll itself was ordinary, but the red wax seal stamped on it was not.
It bore none other than the seal of the Papacy.
"A pardon, apparently."
Windy May shrugged as if it were nothing special.
"…A pardon?"
Lian repeated, as though he couldn’t believe it.
His voice clearly trembled in disbelief.
"…"
Cecilia, too, opened her eyes wide in surprise as she accepted the scroll.
A pardon.
A document that literally granted absolution from all sins.
Neither of them had ever imagined they would receive such a tremendous item—and from Windy May, no less.
Especially Lian, who fully understood the gravity such a pardon carried.
"Yes. Someone asked me to pass it on… but, well… I completely forgot."
Windy May stuck out her tongue slightly with an awkward smile.
Like a child caught doing something wrong, trying to play it off cutely.
"…You forgot?"
Unfortunately, that kind of charm had no effect on Cecilia.
She asked again in a cold voice, and Windy May flinched as she answered.
"I-I didn’t give it to you late on purpose! It really was an urgent situation at the time, I swear!"
"…"
"Ah, a-ahem! Y-You shouldn’t look at your Master with those mean eyes! Pretty eyes! Let’s see those pretty eyes, now!"
While the two were talking, Lian silently looked down at the pardon.
Suddenly, the scroll in his hand felt as heavy as a block of iron.
For a moment, he even suspected Windy May might be playing some cruel joke on them.
"…"
Cautiously, Lian unrolled the scroll.
As soon as he did, his eyes landed on a passage written in an archaic style.
[To all followers of the Holy Sun Church who read this letter, may you find eternal peace in the mercy of Ilionel. Leaning on apostolic authority, we grant full forgiveness of sins and remission of penalties to those who have truly repented, confessed, and willingly participated and contributed so that His mercy and love may be spread far and wide. The one who shall be absolved under Ilionel’s protection is named thus.]
"…This isn’t a joke. It’s real."
Lian muttered blankly without realizing it.
The phrasing, the seal, and even the divine power exuding from each letter—none of it could be forged.
"…You really thought I’d joke about something like this?"
Windy May puffed out her cheeks as if sulking, having overheard Lian’s mumbling.
Though she quickly straightened up under Cecilia’s gaze.
"Anyway, there's no harm in keeping it. Make sure both of you hold on to it carefully."
She let out a small sigh after finishing her words.
"Well then, I have things to take care of, so I’ll be off. …Enjoy the Departure Festival."
And just like that—almost as if she had teleported—Windy May vanished in an instant.
In the now empty classroom, only Lian and Cecilia remained.
And the pardons held in their hands.
As the two stepped outside the classroom, a familiar figure was waiting for them.
"Allen."
When Lian called his name, Allen turned to greet them.
He looked more fatigued than usual, but paradoxically, also more at ease than before.
"I’ve been waiting for you."
Just as Lian was about to greet Allen, he noticed another person standing a bit behind him.
An appearance strikingly similar to that of Princess Velita.
But with an atmosphere that was its complete opposite.
Cold as ice, with a sharpness that made it clear she would allow no one near her.
Her uniform was immaculate, her hair neatly tied back—there wasn’t a single thing out of place.
It was none other than the Empire’s Third Imperial Princess, Mercedes.
As if she had been waiting for them, Mercedes slowly began walking toward them.
Even as she walked, her cold eyes flicked between Lian and Cecilia.
"May I speak with you for a moment?"
Her voice was low and composed, but carried a weight that made it hard to refuse.
"…"
Lian was struck by the realization that though they shared the same teacher, this was actually the first time she had spoken directly to him.
More precisely, it was the first time she had initiated a conversation with them.
Unlike Lian and Cecilia, who often attended Windy May’s classes together, Mercedes usually came alone, at times of her choosing, leaving them few opportunities to cross paths.
That was because she had always preferred solitude over mingling with others.
"…May I ask what this is about?"
Lian asked respectfully.
Mercedes murmured as if slightly uncomfortable.
"There’s no need for that. Just speak comfortably."
Then, after briefly parting her lips, she continued:
"…I came because I want to ask for your help."
Her gaze lingered on Lian for a moment, then moved to Cecilia.
"A bit of a troublesome situation has come up related to the Departure Festival."
She spoke with a calmness like she was reading from a book.
"And this matter is not unrelated to Lady Everglenn of the Three Dukes, either."