Chapter 391

“How did you do that?”

How? Divine power, obviously.

I’m sure his memories are a complete mess right now, so he probably has plenty of questions, but I wasn’t planning on answering any of them. What bothered me was how soulless that question had sounded. For some reason, regardless of how I changed my hair color, his interests had already completely drifted away from it.

Since I’d already grabbed him, I ran a hand through his neatly pomaded hair and messed it up. Normally he’d be freaking out by now and swatting my hand away, but he just stood there with his mouth hanging open. I briefly considered letting my own hair down too, but I’d only slicked it back with water in the first place. It already looked much looser than Mecklenburg’s, and changing it to platinum blond had altered my appearance enough that I decided not to bother.

There shouldn’t be any more questions now. Without another word, I started walking up the hill.

“W-Wait.”

He hurriedly tugged at the edge of my sleeve. I stopped and turned around with my back to the sun.

“I won’t ask how you did that. Not right now. You always… you always…”

Mecklenburg pressed a hand to his forehead and covered his eyes. When he couldn’t finish, I looked down at his frowning face and let out a quiet laugh.

“Since when have we had an ‘always’?”

“Change your hair back.”

“…….”

Is that an order? Then again, it sounded more like he didn’t have the energy to soften his tone. I rested a hand on my neck and let out a long sigh. Honestly, I had no idea what to do with this hopeless young master.

I stared past Mecklenburg at the empty field stretching out behind him, then rubbed the back of my neck irritably before speaking.

“Why? Get a grip. Looking like the complete opposite is exactly the point. You’d be surprised how much your first impression changes just from your hair and eyebrows. This alone is enough to slip past ninety-five out of a hundred people. And if you change your hairstyle and eyebrow shape too, then eyewitness testimonies—”

A strange sense of unease crept over me. The person standing in front of me wasn’t the type to quietly listen while I rambled on like this. By now, he should’ve cut me off with something like, “Who doesn’t know that?”

I shifted my gaze from our surroundings back to him. Mecklenburg was staring at me without a word, lips pressed into a thin line. His unusually serious expression made me let out a dry laugh.

“…What’s gotten into you?”

You’re no fun like this. Since he clearly wasn’t going to move on his own, I grabbed him and dragged him back up the hill.

Running a hand over the cross hanging around my neck from the train ride, I headed toward the village. I’d already secured permission to warp around western Russia for today. If I needed more time, I could just return to the station before midnight and extend my warp permit. Domestic mages could warp freely, but foreign mages couldn’t. They needed authorization from the central or local government first. Fortunately, we’d managed to secure it somehow legitimately.

‘The important thing is, it only lasts until midnight.’

Still, that should be more than enough time.

Every time I caught sight of the onion domes rising in the distance, the fifty-one hours we’d spent on the train felt a little more worthwhile. Now all that was left was to play the part of German students visiting on a field trip.

‘Good.’

The cover story was ready. From this moment on, I was an eager German university student with an insatiable passion for theology. Even my clothes helped—they were just as dull as you’d expect from a bourgeois university student of the era.

I cleared my throat, putting on a calmer voice before turning around.

“Albert?”

I beckoned to Mecklenburg, who was trailing behind like someone being dragged somewhere against his will. He’d been glaring holes into the back of my head—at this rate he might actually bore one through—before snapping out of it and hurriedly forcing on an awkward smile as he caught up. Leaning closer, I lowered my voice.

“Listen up. Which is it? My lackey or my friend?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Our cover. We’ll have to explain our relationship once we go in there, won’t we? Decide.”

“…You be the subordinate.”

“Nope. Friends it is.”

“Then why did you even ask?!”

“I don’t care what you call me, but I thought about it, and appearances matter. Even if I said I was your lackey, nobody would buy it. It’d just make things feel off.”

I gestured up and down at him, from the locks swaying before my eyes all the way down to the shoes crafted by a royal artisan that Nikolaus frequently wore. Servants weren’t usually chosen from a completely different social class, but the two of us looked far too alike. And unless I were dressed far more shabbily, anyone seeing a servant dressed like this would assume his master was someone extraordinary. That would only make whoever spoke to us feel more pressured. It seemed better, psychologically speaking, to pass ourselves off as two young nobles traveling together.

“…….”

Even though what I’d said could’ve come across as pretty insulting, Mecklenburg simply lowered his gaze in silence. Just as I was about to speak again, he quietly cut in.

“…With your face… yeah, probably.”

“So you’re saying you’d be my serv— …Huh?”

I frowned, genuinely unable to believe he’d just said that.

Then it hit me. It hadn’t seemed important enough before for me to put the pieces together. I let out a dry laugh.

“The friend you said I look like… he’s blond, isn’t he.”

“…….”

“So? Do we actually look alike?”

“…….”

“Guess that’s a yes. So what’s he like compared to me?”

“…He’s kind. Unlike you, he doesn’t show off. He’s calm… serious. …I’ve learned a lot from him. He’s always been kind.”

“Mmm~”

He’s trying awfully hard. The more he talked, the less conviction there was in his voice. Like he’d already given up. I let out a short whistle and muttered, “I’m nice too.”

“Wow, it’s really cold here. Jeez…”

“What was that?”

“So, what exactly are we supposed to do?”

“We’re classmates from the Faculty of Theology at the University of Greifswald. We both major in Magical Theology. You know your theology, right?”

“Of course. Anyone from a ruling house would’ve finished that before turning ten.”

“Yeah, yeah, aren’t you just wonderful. Anyway, undergraduate level should be enough to bluff our way through, so don’t hold back. Talk confidently. Got it? Anyone who’d come all the way here would have to be passionate about this stuff.”

“A high schooler… pretending to be a university student? Is that even possible…?”

Mecklenburg asked, worry clear in his voice. The twenty-five-year-old Mecklenburg would never have said something like that. I patted him on the shoulder and shook my head.

“What’s so great about the First Academy anyway? It’s not like you learned theology there, right? I don’t know much theology, so you’re handling all of that. Got it?”

“What? But you’re top of your class!”

“There you go again with the ‘top of your class.’ That’s not the point. This is your chance to show off all that theology you learned with the money your family made by stuffing generations’ worth of commoners’ wealth into banks and the stock market.”

“What are you even talking about?! That’s practically lèse-majesté—!”

“A few days ago I asked if you spoke Russian, remember? Forget that. Speak Greek instead. The Orthodox Church requires Greek studies anyway.”

“Wait, Greek? I…”

“You can’t?”

Mecklenburg came to an abrupt stop and stared at me without even blinking. Just as I started wondering whether his eyes were drying out, he answered in a calm, firm voice.

“…Of course I can. I’ll probably be better at it than you.”

For a brief moment, it felt like he wasn’t looking at me at all, but at someone else.

“I’m sure you can.”

I smiled faintly and turned away. As we made our way toward the monastery, the villagers glanced at us in passing. Most of them wore jackets suited for labor, while we were dressed nothing like them. It was only natural we’d stand out. When we reached the monastery gate, I gave Mecklenburg a look. Reluctantly, he stepped forward and knocked.

Knock, knock.

“Is anyone there?”

No answer. Even after waiting for a while, nothing came. We slipped our hands into our pockets and looked up at the sky. Then the door suddenly swung open.

“Who is it?”

The person who opened the door was the elderly monk who had urged me to speak Russian. Over the past three years, both his Orthodox robes and prayer rope had worn with age, and the lines around his eyes had deepened. Though perhaps that was simply the difference between seeing him as an eight-year-old and seeing him now at eighteen.

Mecklenburg and I quickly straightened ourselves and put on polite smiles. Mecklenburg was the first to speak, his voice warm and courteous.

“We’re students from Germany studying magical theology. We recently developed a deep interest in the Orthodox Church, and while traveling through Russia, we came across this monastery. We were hoping we might have the chance to meet the abbot.”

The monk looked at us with mild surprise before replying in Greek.

“The abbot is bedridden at the moment, so I am afraid you cannot meet him. But please, come inside.”

His voice had grown thinner than it had been three years ago, with a faint rasp breaking through every now and then. We quietly followed him. It was the same hallway I had seen from a low vantage point during Ismailov’s Extra Chapter. The monk walked with measured steps across floorboards that must have been sturdy decades ago, but were now loose, creaking, and worn with age. Before long, he led us to a pair of small wooden chairs inside the abbot’s office.

While I remained silent after taking my seat, Mecklenburg naturally picked up the conversation.

“It seems there is a school attached to the monastery.”

“It is a school for the children in the village. Nothing that could compare to the formal schools in the cities.”

“Monastery schools have been educating the common people since the Middle Ages. I don’t think anyone would question their importance.”

“Haha.”

The monk closed his eyes, nodded, and let out something that wasn’t quite a laugh. His weary reaction made Mecklenburg and me exchange a brief glance. Mecklenburg quickly looked away from me again, keeping the same polite smile on his face.

“I imagine some of the children who grow up here eventually leave for the city, then return later. In that sense, wouldn’t you say the school is the pillar of this community?”

“It does happen from time to time.”

The monk’s expression remained unreadable. He simply pressed his lips together. I could tell Mecklenburg was thrown off. Before we came here, I’d told him everything I’d learned about Yuri Alekseyev, including the fact that he was the student I was looking for. He was probably trying to do exactly what I’d asked—casually bring up the subject of “the most outstanding student here.”

Having said that much, the monk gazed out the window.

“I suppose it is simply the duty the Lord has given us. Now then… you appear to be mages. What brings you here?”

“We will be leaving for another region after today. Would it be possible for us to stay here until midnight? There is much we would like to learn about the Orthodox Church, and we would like to experience life here firsthand. We will compensate you generously, of course.”

“Until midnight…”

“We would be happy to help with any work as well.”

Mecklenburg hurried to add that before the silence could settle. The monk folded his hands, gave a slow nod, then spoke.

“We do have a spare room where you could rest. However, our monastery is not in a position to host guests at the moment. We have students to teach, and our abbot requires constant care. We simply do not have the capacity to receive visitors.”

“What if we made a donation—”

“We would certainly appreciate the generosity. But we do not support this monastery through tourism or lodging fees. Your kindness alone means a great deal to us. More than anything, I regret that we cannot welcome you properly. I hope you will understand.”

“Please wait. We aren’t here as tourists—”

If not tourists, then what? To them, there wasn’t much difference. I squeezed Mecklenburg’s hand to stop him. The monk shook his head as well.

“I will see you back to the front gate.”

Mecklenburg looked at me in confusion, swallowed, looked away, then looked back at me again. If he wanted to look, he should just look instead of darting his eyes around like that.

We had never intended to put them in an awkward position, but from the monastery’s perspective, that’s exactly what we were doing. I doubted they believed neglecting foreign nobles would bring them any direct trouble, but they clearly thought that hosting noble guests meant more than just offering them a room. They’d have to prepare lavish meals and assign someone to attend to them. That last part was the real problem.

As the monk himself had said, he was already busy acting in the abbot’s place and had no time to spend all day looking after visiting nobles. Judging by the state of the buildings, the other monks were probably just as busy.

If things stayed like this, those fifty-one hours would have been for nothing. No—even putting the time aside, this strategy would essentially be a failure. I’d have to come up with another way to make use of the 1891 Extra Chapter.

I couldn’t let it end in failure now.

Creak.

Just as the monk pushed back his chair to stand, I rested a hand on the table.

“In that case… would it be possible for us to at least take a quick look around?”

Mecklenburg turned to look at me. Keeping my expression serious and my voice calm, I continued in Greek.

“We will be leaving the area soon anyway, so I would have liked to spend more time seeing the monastery while we are here. But I wouldn’t want to go against your wishes. If you could at least let us have one last look around the chapel and the grounds, we would be very grateful.”

“…….”

Mecklenburg swallowed. The monk slowly nodded.

“Very well. If it is only a short tour, you are welcome to have a look. Come with me.”

“Thank you.”

Still smiling, I thanked him in Greek one last time and stood up.

“This monastery is made up of six buildings. The one at the very back, in the center, is the dormitory. And this one here is the livestock barn.”

Before entering the main building, we toured the monastery grounds while the monk introduced us to the smaller buildings first. Since I stayed quiet, Mecklenburg walked a step ahead of me, practically glued to the monk’s side, asking one question after another.

He looked seriously uncomfortable being here. Keeping my eyes forward, I couldn’t help noticing those light-colored eyebrows bobbing around in front of me.

Class must have ended, because a few children poked their heads out the windows. With wands at our waists and clothes nothing like the worn outfits of the local commoners, it wasn’t hard to guess we were New Humans. I waved at the children leaning so far out of the old, shaky windows they looked ready to fall through, then turned my attention back ahead. I caught Mecklenburg glancing at me before quickly looking away.

“…….”

“What is that building over there? Can we go into the main building?”

“Of course.”

To his credit, Mecklenburg knew better than to bring up Yuri Alekseyev directly. If that had been the plan, we would’ve just sent a letter under House Mecklenburg-Strelitz’s name. So he never mentioned the kid.

The monks inside the main building greeted us formally as soon as they saw how we were dressed. Unlike Mecklenburg, who accepted their greetings with an easy smile, I had to fake my reactions. Instead, I smiled and waved to the children scattered throughout the building. For some reason, there seemed to be far fewer students than there had been three years ago. And among them, Yuri Alekseyev was nowhere to be seen. Every single one of them was an Old Human.

Which theory should I be leaning toward? That Yuri had already been taken by Pleroma, or that we simply hadn’t found him yet?

“This is the library. The room next to it is where the monks study. They are separate rooms, but there is another door inside connecting them, so it is easy to go back and forth.”

“That is a clever layout.”

After that, we left through the rear entrance of the main building, passed the chapel and dormitory, walked around the pine grove and the fenced area Yuri had shown me before, then returned to the monastery’s front gate. I gave the monk a polite bow.

“Thank you for showing us around.”

“Think nothing of it. I only hope that, when our situation improves someday, we will be able to welcome you back properly.”

The monk finished in a voice much weaker than it had been three years ago. I answered with a smile, then turned to leave with Mecklenburg. We’d only taken about ten slow steps when he quietly whispered beside me, his face completely drained.

“So… where do we go now?”

“You’ve gotten awfully quiet. Normally you’d be saying, ‘What the hell is this?! We spent fifty-one hours on a train just to turn around and leave?!’“

“When have I ever been that loud?!”

“Just now.”

I shrugged. Mecklenburg muttered something about how ridiculous I was and huffed under his breath. Wearing the same gentle smile I’d used inside the monastery, I lightly patted his far shoulder and asked in a calm, even tone, “So… why are you being so quiet?”

“…….”

“Come back to the Albert who survived fifty-one hours rotting away on that train with me. You’re no fun when you go all quiet. Makes me not even want to hang around you.”

“What?!”

“Hahaha.”

I laughed like Adrian Askanien for a moment before the comparison instantly soured my mood, leaving only a faint smile behind. I was supposed to be walking slowly, yet somehow my steps kept speeding up. I deliberately slowed them again, and Mecklenburg muttered, stubbornly trying to avoid looking in my direction as he had been doing all along.

“So what are we doing about Yuri Alekseyev? Did you see him with the students?”

“Not once. More importantly, did you notice the atmosphere? The whole monastery feels… subdued. The buildings are in terrible shape, and that’s one thing—but they don’t even seem to be trying to fix them. And the abbot’s bedridden…”

“Wait. You know what Yuri Alekseyev looks like, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?! We came all this way to find him, so why am I the only one panicking while you’re acting like none of this matters? Huh? Are you even taking this seriously? At this rate we’re going back to Germany empty-handed!”

“Ugh, you’re so noisy I could die.”

“What?!”

He exploded, waving his arms as he argued. I grabbed him by both shoulders and grinned.

“There you are. That’s more like the Albert I expected to come back.”

“Now’s not the time for—”

Suddenly Mecklenburg’s eyes flew open. His face went pale with shock. His foot slipped, and he tumbled backward down the slope we’d climbed earlier, grabbing my arm with both hands as he fell.

“W-Wait…?!”

Was he trying to drag me down with him?¹ My eyes flew open before I almost squeezed them shut again. I caught his collar with one hand and slammed my foot into the ground.

Thump—!

“…Hah…!”

Mecklenburg crashed into the blue barrier that had sprung up behind him, his body jolting as his eyes flew open. A moment later, he realized he hadn’t gone tumbling headfirst down the slope and let out a shaky breath. I loosened my grip on his collar, gradually tilting the barrier upward, then carefully pulled the heel of my shoe out of the dirt where I’d driven it into the hillside to stop myself from falling.

“Watch where you’re going. We almost ended up in the afterlife together.”

“…Sorry.”

“No, seriously, why are you apologizing? That’s not like you. You’re starting to make me feel wronged.”

“So now you’re complaining even when I apologize?!”

I chuckled. Mecklenburg stared blankly at me with his mouth hanging open before abruptly turning his head away. Then, as if he’d suddenly realized something, his eyes widened and he looked back.

Not at me. I followed his gaze—to somewhere just above my head.

“…Huh…”

A Russian boy stood at the top of the hill, staring down at us in a daze, lips parted. His eyes dropped to our waists, shifted to the blue barrier, then settled on our faces.

“…….”

Mecklenburg immediately grabbed my arm and cast a soundproofing spell.

“H-Hey…! That’s…?!”

I smiled gently at the boy.

Neatly combed black hair. The same blue eyes. A black monastery school robe, worn just slightly crooked, whether he meant to or not.

Raised among Old Humans, there was no holster strapped to his waist or thigh. He looked a bit more mature than the eight-year-old I’d met a few days ago, yet it was still unmistakably the face of a young child. I whispered, “So he’s still here.”

Eleven-year-old Yuri Alekseyev stood before me.

Good. I’d finally found him. There were things I needed to ask him. What had happened three years ago that became the turning point in your life?

I snapped my fingers, dispelling Mecklenburg’s soundproofing spell, then gently asked in Greek, “You must be a student here at Lavrentyev. What can I do for you?”

Yuri clenched both hands together. His lips moved for a moment before he answered in Greek.

“…I heard you need a room until midnight today. I can show you around all day!”

“…….”

The sudden declaration left Mecklenburg completely speechless. I kept my smile and tilted my head.

“But your teacher said they couldn’t take us in.”

“No! That’s not it. I convinced him. He said you can come back!”

“In that short amount of time?”

“…Well… if you would be willing to let me show you around… He asked me to apologize for the discourtesy. And… he has to go see the doctor now.”

“Ah, that’s—”

“But my teacher always listens to me. Well… maybe not everyone, but he does when it’s me. I got permission to skip class today as long as I make it up later. You can stay in the room next to mine! I came first this time, so I got the biggest room, and the one next to it is big too. I’ll show you around the village as well! I heard you’re interested in the Orthodox Church!”

He rattled on, answering questions I hadn’t even asked, speaking so fast he never gave me a chance to respond, afraid we’d leave before he finished.

He still hadn’t revealed his secret to me in this world, but I could guess why the monk always gave in to Yuri—and why he’d even agreed to this. Yuri was the only mage in the monastery, and from his perspective, adult mages were people he’d never meet unless he marched into a noble estate himself.

Looking at him, I asked, “That’s very thoughtful of you. But why go this far for us?”

Yuri hesitated, glancing at the wands hanging from our belts.

“…I heard what everyone was saying. You two are mages, aren’t you?”

Then he half turned toward Mecklenburg—probably without thinking—and looked back at me uneasily.

“…Are you really leaving?”

“I suppose we are.”

I answered with a slight tilt of my head. Yuri’s mouth slowly fell open. The disappointment on his face was painfully easy to read. Beside me, even Mecklenburg stared in shock.

“H-huh…?”

Before Mecklenburg could smack me across the back with all his strength, I smiled at Yuri.

“Back to Lavrentyev, then. Thank you.”

Only then did the color return to Yuri’s face. He practically bounced where he stood, grinning from ear to ear as he held out his hand. Smiling back, I took it and pulled Mecklenburg up the hill with us.

Translator Note

1. I didn’t translate mulgwisin (물귀신) literally as “water ghost,” since the phrase is being used idiomatically rather than to refer to an actual ghost. It describes someone who pulls others down with them, originating from the folk belief that the ghosts of drowning victims drag others into the water. ↩︎