Chapter 83…………………………
The auditorium was packed to the point where there wasn’t even space to set foot.
Fortunately, the students’ average age seemed fairly high.
‘Is that a student… or a parent?’
It seemed the dean had restricted enrollment to the higher-year levels, since architecture was too difficult for young children.
Perhaps because everyone was older, their concentration was astonishing.
No one was distracted, no one whispered, and not even a single student was dozing off.
Every pair of eyes was wide open, focused on me.
‘Strange.’
It was the ideal setting for teaching, but this wasn’t normal.
How could no one move for two hours straight? Was my lecture really that fascinating?
‘…No way.’
The subject matter I’d been explaining for the past two hours was one of the dullest areas of architecture.
I wondered if they were intimidated because Leonhart was standing silently in a corner, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
Ever since class started, no one had looked at Leonhart at all.
Their gaze was fixed solely on me.
‘Don’t tell me they’re frozen stiff because they’re afraid of me?’
Suspicious, I swept my eyes across the students—at once, sharp intakes of breath could be heard all around.
Sadly, it seemed my suspicion was correct.
I had no idea why they were afraid of me. What had I even done?
“As you can see, the history of architecture runs alongside the history of humankind. One could even say they developed simultaneously. Any questions?”
A bearded student raised his hand.
“Uh, professor.”
“What is it?”
“Historically, humans haven’t been building houses for very long. The ancients lived together in caves, after all.”
Before lecturing, I’d researched the architecture of this world and found it surprisingly similar to that of my own.
Especially the history of architecture. The hack author must’ve been too lazy to set things up properly.
“So what’s your point?”
“Shouldn’t that period be excluded from the history of architecture?”
“What a foolish question. Yes, ancient humans did gather in caves. But they also smoothed rough walls by rubbing them down, laid animal hides on the floor to protect themselves, and warded off the cold.”
“B-but isn’t that just survival?”
“Any act of altering space for survival falls under architecture. If you think it only counts when you clear ground, raise pillars, and add a roof—go outside and learn some skills.”
The bearded student lowered his hand and banged his forehead against the desk.
Another student glanced at him, then timidly gathered courage.
“Then… doesn’t that make the scope of architecture too broad?”
“Were you even listening for the last two hours? Architecture is a culmination of highly advanced skills, systematically condensed. Creativity, artistry, convenience, utility—all of it is encompassed. Did I not explain that thoroughly?”
The second student also buried his head on the desk.
Then the student next to him muttered under his breath.
“What kind of artistry could a cave possibly have…”
The problem was, the auditorium was so quiet that I caught the mutter immediately.
“Ancient people painted murals inside caves. Do you still think that isn’t art?”
“T-that was just scribbling, not art…”
“If it were mere scribbling, they wouldn’t have restricted it to chosen members of the tribe. Scribbling is what you’ve been doing on your notes for the past two hours because you didn’t understand a thing.”
“I-I’m sorry…”
The third student whimpered in apology.
Honestly, when I began the lecture, I had planned to keep the atmosphere gentle and cheerful.
But if this was all they managed to take away, what could I do?
“Architecture is responsible for providing housing—an essential element of human life. It isn’t a field you can tackle half-heartedly. If you plan to approach it lightly, don’t even try. There’s already enough trash in this world masquerading under the name of architecture.”
The sheer harshness of the words left the students’ mouths hanging open. Some even began to sniffle.
“That’s all.”
“Huu…”
The students let out a collective sigh of relief, as though they had survived something.
“Starting next class, I’ll be assigning homework. For the record, all my assignments will always be group projects.”
“……!”
“Dismissed.”
“Th-thank you, professor!”
The students bolted from the auditorium like grasshoppers fleeing a fire.
Watching their terrified backs, I was certain.
‘At this rate, attendance will drop by half next class.’
After all, students can tolerate a harsh professor, but never group projects.
From the side, the quiet auditors—Luspel, Leonhart, and Owen—approached me.
“Your Grace, I enjoyed your lecture. You must’ve prepared quite a lot?”
“That was just my basic ability.”
“The content itself wasn’t bad, though it may have sounded a bit harsh for the students.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“It was truly an excellent lecture, Duke! Those two hours felt like only twenty minutes!”
“……”
Luspel and Leonhart exchanged puzzled looks at Owen’s excessive praise.
Just the other day, Owen had shown open hostility toward me and fainted after being struck down by Lulu.
And now, he was suddenly acting overly friendly, like a completely different person—of course they’d question his sanity.
The truth was, Owen was only acting this way because I held the key to reviving Adela Helsingten. But Leonhart and Luspel knew nothing of that.
“Owen, did something happen between you and the Duke? You two seem… rather close all of a sudden.”
“Owen, what’s going on? Did you meet him separately?”
“Yes! The Duke came to the temple recently. That time, his sword…”
Before Owen could blurt everything out, I covered his mouth.
“A few days ago, I visited the temple regarding a donation, and we met then. Isn’t that right, Owen?”
If you speak, you die.
I glared at him with that meaning. He swallowed dryly.
“Uh… y-yes, that’s right. The Duke generously donated land for the orphanage. We’re, ah, very grateful.”
“And during that visit, we had a serious conversation that cleared up misunderstandings. Isn’t that so, Owen?”
“What misunderstandings… ah, yes, yes! The Duke is right!”
Leonhart seemed uninterested, brushing it off with a “so that’s how it was.”
But Luspel still looked unconvinced.
His narrowed eyes flicked between Owen and me.
“So, are you saying you confirmed the Duke’s mana?”
“Wh-what? N-no?”
“Then that makes no sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you remember what you did at the Crown Prince’s palace? You made a huge fuss about needing to check if the Duke had mana, and even collapsed in the process.”
“Well… yes.”
“But now you say the misunderstanding is cleared? That means your suspicion was resolved, which means you must’ve confirmed whether or not he has mana.”
“……”
Owen had a fatal flaw—he was a terrible liar.
“W-well, checking the mana… no, that’s not it…”
“Do you recall what you said when I suggested politely asking the Duke instead of forcing it? You insisted there was no way we could trust him and absolutely refused. Yet now you’ve supposedly dropped the matter without even checking yourself?”
Thanks to Luspel’s flawless memory, Owen was cornered.
He’d clearly done something to confirm my identity—but strangely, I wasn’t angry.
After all, I was the one who had turned that once-naïve priest, who didn’t even know what suspicion was, into this.
“Uh, I don’t know why I did that. I can’t really remember…”
Flustered, Owen ducked behind me and quietly tugged on my sleeve.
“D-Duke, please help me…”
With no choice, I stepped slightly forward, shielding him from their gaze.
“Do you see the dagger I’m wearing at my waist?”
“It’s your family’s heirloom, isn’t it? Last time, you said it was a spirit-imbued sword.”
“There’s one thing I didn’t mention. Yes, a spirit dwells in this sword—but not an ordinary one.”
“What kind, then?”
“A spirit of darkness.”
“What?!”
Both Leonhart and Luspel’s eyes flew to the sword.
Luspel asked, incredulous.
“W-wait. Is it even okay to carry around something imbued with a dark spirit?”
“No. At any moment, it could curse its wielder. That’s why my ancestors could only keep it sealed.”
“Then how did you get it?”
“I made a contract.”
“……!”
Leonhart and Luspel’s eyes widened.
“You’re a spirit user, Duke? You can contract with a dark spirit?”
“Apparently.”
“Is it possible to awaken as a spirit user in adulthood…? That’s highly unusual.”
“Anyway, Owen sensed the dark power from me and had to confirm my identity. Because he suspected me… of being a dark sorcerer.”
Leonhart and Luspel quickly exchanged glances.
They finally understood why Owen had been so insistent on confirming my identity.
“But as it turned out, it was merely the power of the dark spirit I had contracted with. And so the misunderstanding was resolved. Professor Luspel, is that clear enough for you?”
“I suppose that explains things…”
Still, Luspel wore an odd expression.
“It just doesn’t make sense for it to be only a misunderstanding.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Owen’s behavior toward you. That’s exactly what he used to do only with Adela.”
“……!”
In the past, whenever Owen was in a difficult situation, he would hide behind me and tug at my sleeve—like a child hiding behind their mother.
He never did that with anyone else, only with me.
It was proof that Owen trusted me absolutely, and though it was a childish act, everyone turned a blind eye to it.
But now he was doing the same thing with someone who, supposedly, he had no bond with.
Of course Luspel found it suspicious.
“In the five years I’ve known Owen, I’ve never seen him do that. Yet he does it with you? Even though just days ago he was raising hell, insisting you were suspicious?”
Then, for the first time, Leonhart, who had been silent, spoke.
“I’m curious as well. What happened between the two of you that Owen would act this way toward you, when he never even does so with us?”
Sigh…
I yanked my sleeve free from Owen’s grasp.
He was part of the problem, but I was equally at fault for accepting it so naturally.
If I kept denying it, their suspicions would only grow stronger.
That left me with one option.
I would have to use the same method on them that I had used on Owen.
Taking a deep breath, I said:
“I can speak with Adela Helsingten.”
