Chapter 4 - 4. Senile Old Fools (2)
Professor Scott hates being treated like an old man.
Of course, objectively speaking, he is indeed old. After all, you can't exactly call someone approaching seventy a "young man."
But even so, Scott despised being seen as elderly.
It's probably the same feeling a woman approaching forty gets when someone calls her "ma'am"—that irksome, soul-stirring irritation.
I'm still strong. In terms of capability alone, I'm better than most young people.
People these days might talk behind my back, calling me a stubborn old man, but what's so wrong with sticking to principles and rules?
I'm not the one in the wrong.
I am by no means an outdated old relic.
Scott had always thought this way. He'd never once doubted that maybe, just maybe, he might be wrong.
…Until today.
-Sorry for being late. Something urgent came up.
The new professor, late on his very first day—on an important day, no less, when the final interviews were scheduled.
And not only was he late, but instead of focusing on the interviews, he seemed lost in his own world. Scott was, naturally, not impressed.
He even cleared his throat to get his attention, yet the professor had shown no hint of regret, his shameless attitude instantly earning Scott's label of "one of these disrespectful youths."
Then, when the man started spouting some bizarre, racist comments about "cotton-pickers," Scott was outraged.
But… the one in the wrong turned out to be Scott himself.
-How did you see through my disguise?
The boy was, in fact, a demon in hiding.
Professor Lian hadn't been zoning out; he'd been on high alert, sensing the demon's sinister presence.
That strange, racist remark had actually been a coded warning about the demon's identity. If Scott had only picked up on that, the whole ordeal might have gone smoothly.
-I'm disappointed. I expected more from the esteemed professors of this Academy, but you're all just disappointments.
What had sounded like a condemnation of the other professors' failure to grasp his hints actually carried a deeper meaning—one that Scott alone understood.
In that tense situation, there was no way the professor would have mindlessly criticized his allies. He was trying to convey something else.
-Get out of here, you vile creature! Did you really think you could hide your wicked nature from me?
It was clear that his exaggerated statements had all been to protect them.
In a situation where none of them recognized the threat before them, if the demon had launched a surprise attack, not only the other professors but even Scott himself would likely not have made it out unscathed.
So, by making such a bold display, he diverted the demon's attention, daring it to come at him alone.
In the midst of the crisis, Lian had kept his composure and played his hand with precision, using himself as bait to save even those who'd scorned him.
Yet Scott had dismissed this young man, simply because he was young. He hadn't listened, and because of that, they had all nearly ended up as casualties.
'I tried to make up for my mistake, but…'
Instead, he'd only repeated it.
Until Lian had acted, Scott hadn't even considered that the demon might harm the students.
As a professor, he'd been so fixated on the threat in front of him that he'd forgotten about the students he was supposed to protect.
He was senile.
There was no defending his disgraceful conduct.
Which was why Scott was now standing before Professor Lian.
To apologize for his mistake and to offer proper reparation.
"I'd like to give you the privilege of teaching the top-tier class, A-Class, this year."
Even as he spoke, his mouth felt heavy.
The chance to teach the Holy Church's Saintess and the Empire's Princess.
Scott, more than anyone, understood the political significance of such a role.
He knew how fiercely the powerful figures in the Empire had competed for this position, how he himself had fought bitterly behind the scenes to earn this honor.
There was no forgetting that.
The memory of that time when an assassin from a powerful family nearly succeeded still made his heart race.
But even so…
"You're the one suited for this role, not an old relic like me. It would only be disgraceful for me to keep clinging to it."
It was time to admit it.
He was, in fact, just a stubborn old man.
His mind had grown rigid with age. His vision clouded by prejudice, he hadn't recognized the character of this young man.
Teaching is about nurturing people.
How could someone who couldn't even read others properly hope to nurture students? Perhaps it was time for him to consider stepping down from his post.
"I've already informed the headmaster. Please raise these students well in my place."
He gave the young professor a pat on the shoulder and turned to leave.
An old man stepping off the stage, making way for a capable young successor—that was how Scott intended to wrap up this incident.
But…
"Please, wait!"
A voice from behind stopped him. Before Scott could respond, Lian called out urgently.
"I could never dream of taking your place, Professor! That's simply impossible!"
It sounded like typical polite flattery.
A well-mannered young man trying to give an old man's pride a final boost. But as Scott turned around, his face filled with shock.
Filled with shock for good reason.
"I've heard stories about you, Professor. About all that you've accomplished and the many talented individuals you've nurtured."
There was not a hint of insincerity in his words.
This was an opportunity anyone would envy.
Yet, despite having gained it, the man showed no joy, only unease and reluctance.
…He was genuine.
That expression couldn't be an act. Lian truly meant what he was saying.
"I admire you, Professor! It was because of you that I wanted to join this Academy!"
Professor Lian's voice even shook with emotion as he shouted.
Scott was so overwhelmed by the earnestness in his voice that he couldn't respond.
"I don't care if you call yourself an old relic. At least I know that your integrity remains unshaken, even after all these years."
Admitting your mistakes and working to fix them.
The desire to always do what's right, even now, is unwavering.
That's why you are noble.
That's why your spirit has not aged.
The professor before him seemed to shout this silently to Scott.
Scott wasn't just a stubborn old man. He was a person who constantly strived for uprightness, someone Lian looked up to as his role model.
…Emotions surged within him.
Hearing the words he'd longed for from the very person he most wanted to hear them from left him overwhelmed.
Tears began to well up embarrassingly. He felt like he might break down and sob right there.
But thankfully, he managed to hold it together enough not to embarrass himself in front of his admiring junior.
Turning his face away so Lian wouldn't see, he quickly dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief.
A practiced move honed over years of experience.
Without a quiver in his voice, Scott drew himself up and declared with dignity.
"I will never forget this kindness."
If the new professor were to take on the important role of guiding the royal family, there would, of course, be those who'd object.
And a young man as talented as he is bound to face opposition.
Some will envy his gifts. Some will fear his potential and try to undermine him before he grows any stronger.
But that won't be a problem now.
"Whenever you need help, just let me know. If you're willing to accept an old man's hand, I'll gladly lend it."
Scott Fenrir, the "Ironblood Duke," who once conquered a nation single-handedly, would stand at his side.
After being praised, the professor suddenly burst into tears and left.
Left alone, I stood there dumbfounded, and slowly realized something important.
Scott had said he'd transfer the responsibility for A-Class to me, and that he'd already informed the headmaster, but he hadn't retracted that statement in the end.
Instead of giving me thanks or wishing me well, he kept talking about strange things, avoiding my gaze, before abruptly rushing off.
Judging from that, even if I brought it up with him again tomorrow, Professor Scott would never take back his decision.
In other words…
'Did my boss just dump his workload on me?'