I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple-Chapter 149

I returned to my room and saw a familiar face. "Brother Hector?"

"Yes." Hector seemed to be organizing luggage. He was conscious of me but kept his face half-turned away.

As I hung my coat on the rack, I asked, "It's been hard to find you lately. Where have you been sleeping?"

"There's a lounge inside the martial arts hall. I stayed there for a few days," he answered. "Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I was so absorbed that I didn't want to break my focus."

"No need to apologize. Just don't push yourself too hard," I said.

"Yes," he murmured.

I studied Hector's back for a moment. At first glance, the side of his face looked slightly swollen. I could tell because I had a keen sense for reading people. This was more than a sparring injury. Sometimes, wounds revealed a deeper malice. This was one of those times.

I rubbed the back of my neck and said, "The night air feels nice. I'm going for a walk."

"At this hour?"

"I usually like walking at night. Brother Hector, you can go to bed first. Finish organizing your things."

"Alright."

I grabbed my coat again and stepped out. Just before the door closed, Hector's restrained voice stopped me. "Luan."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

I chuckled and closed the door. "It's nothing."

***

The next day, it was finally Alec's class day. After wandering around for several days, I had grown quite familiar with the academy grounds. Many areas still remained unexplored, but now I felt comfortable moving around on my own.

Since I only had one class, it was hard to bring Kayan and Arjan along, so I usually moved around by myself. I'd heard that servants were also allowed to take classes, so I had told them they were free to attend anything that interested them.

Kayan had laughed and politely declined, but Arjan thanked me. From her tone, I had a feeling there was a class she wanted to join. I was curious, but I kept it to myself. It didn't feel right to pry. Although she was my servant, that didn't mean I could disregard her privacy. In any case, it was time for class.

"H-hello!"

"Hello." I waved to Glenn, who I hadn't seen in a while.

Today, I didn't plan to part ways with him right after class. I wanted to have a meal together and try to set up a way to stay in contact. Still, I couldn't bring it up too suddenly. Despite his timid nature, Glenn struck me as sharp. I didn't want to raise his suspicions without cause.

Hmm, the lecture room feels unusually quiet today. That was likely because Talis and his obnoxious friends weren't lounging in the back as they usually did. Evan had taught him a lesson, and with his nose crushed, I expected him to take a few days off.

At that moment, the door opened and Alec walked in, right on time for the lecture. He spotted the two of us already seated and gave a slight nod, offering no greeting. "I'll begin the class."

The lecture unfolded in the subdued atmosphere. Maybe it was just my imagination, but Alec seemed more earnest than he had been last time. We even made eye contact now and then. Could he have experienced a change of heart in just a few days?

I focused on Alec's lesson while planning how to convince him to give me the journal. Just as I wondered if my impression was a trick of the mind, Alec announced with ten minutes left, "That's it for today's lesson. Any questions?"

Glenn drew in a sharp breath, clearly surprised. His reaction suggested this question period was new to him.

"If not—"

"Professor Alec!" Glenn interrupted urgently. "What do you think of the church?"

Alec turned his gaze to Glenn. "You're not talking about the Seventy-Two Churches or the Sun Church. You're referring to the Dark Church?"

"T-that's right."

Alec spoke in his usual calm, emotionless tone. "The empire's main enemy and the cause of the apocalypse. A force known to all citizens, yet its true nature remains more obscure than any other mystery. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"I'm not interested in how people generally see the church." Glenn shook his head slightly. Behind his glasses, his eyes looked unfamiliar. The prince stared directly at the professor, his gaze burning with intensity. "I want to know what you personally think of the church."

Alec didn't respond.

"Professor Alec, you said it the other day. The church's main tactic is to spread fear."

"When faced with a tidal wave, a sailor sometimes throws himself into the sea. It's an old saying, but its meaning is often misunderstood. The sailor didn't leap out of madness or despair. The real reason—"

"Was to become the wave himself," Glenn finished. "That way, there's no reason to panic."

Alec continued after a short interval. "The church's Evil Scripture list ninety-nine apocalyptic events for humanity. Their distorted doctrines poison the minds of those who hear them. When they find someone unstable enough, they begin to whisper, Will you join us?"

It was a classic tactic: turning the victim into the perpetrator. But the church's methods went far beyond that. They were far more sinister and ruthless.

I never believed they merely preyed on fear. They wielded madness more effectively than fear ever could. The most feared person in the world was the one driven mad. Even more frightening were those who knew how to control the insane. From my perspective, that made the Dark Church the most dangerous force of all.

Glenn spoke up, "I have a fundamental question. They call themselves a religion. They are a group that cannot exist without faith."

"What are you trying to say?"

He hesitated before asking, "Professor Alec, is the church really just evil?"

A sharp intake of breath followed. It wasn't only me—Alec's eyes also sharpened as we absorbed Glenn's words.

"Your Highness," Alec said, his tone noticeably different. "Your status holds no weight here at the academy, but I hope you understand your position better."

"I'm telling you this because you are a professor," Glenn replied, his voice growing more passionate. "In this academy, no one is more convinced of the empire's fall than you."

I saw in Glenn's expression a trace of the same intensity Alec once had when he spoke about Spirit Mountain. It was a flicker of madness.

"Many people have this misconception," Glenn said. "The empire's destruction has never been the church's ultimate goal. It's just a step along the way. What I want to know is, after the empire falls, what comes next? They're the ones driving the destruction—so does that mean they'll all kill themselves?"

He paused, then continued, "I don't believe that. There must be a deeper, hidden purpose. I want to uncover it. Even if—"

Glenn closed his mouth and fell silent. The storm of madness in his eyes had calmed. Still, it was easy for me—and perhaps Alec—to guess what he was about to say next: "Even if I become a member of the church."

At that moment, the bell rang.

***

At the end of class, Alec said he would see us in three days and left. His tone suggested he planned to continue the lessons for now. Just before he walked away, he said, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that question today."

Glenn said nothing in response. He had already slipped back into his usual timid self.

As someone who had listened to the entire exchange from right beside Glenn, it all felt like a dream.

I spotted Glenn sitting on a bench. His eyes, behind thick glasses, stared blankly as if frozen like a sun trapped in ice. I sat down next to him and asked bluntly, "Are you a member of the church?"

For a while, we sat side by side, taking in the peaceful scenery of Cartel Academy. Young students focused under the bright sunlight, absorbed in their lessons. The scene looked so serene that someone could easily paint it and title it Peace.

"Do you like red?" Glenn out of the blue.

"I don't hate it," I replied. To me, red symbolized inspiration, like the sun or flames. Of course, I knew Glenn meant something else.

"I... dislike it. In fact, I hate it. I don't understand why red is held up as the color of nobility and beginnings. I hate my hair, my eyes, and even looking at the sunset sky. To me, red is just blood," Glenn muttered, his voice heavy with pain. "I miss my older sister."

"You mean, Princess Perist?"

"No. My real sister." Glenn looked at me. "You asked if I am a church member. How could that be? Still, I think the church is more just than the imperial family."

"Why?"

"Do you know the Badnikers?"

The question came out of nowhere. I glanced at him, wondering if he already knew something, but he didn't seem to be testing me. "I know what most people know."

"People say the Iron-Blooded Lord is too harsh with his children, but that's not true. It's the imperial family that's truly cruel." Glenn gave a bitter smile. "Luan, would you believe me if I told you there were once hundreds of princes?"

"What?"

Glenn let out a low laugh and stood. "Forget you heard that. I think I have something to do. Sorry, I'm tired today. I'm staying in Room 305 of the Red Building. See you next time."

He walked off with an unsteady gait. It wouldn't have been difficult to stop him and press for answers, but I didn't. Instead, a knot formed in my stomach. Ah, I am starting to feel genuinely irritated.

***

Like I had mentioned before, I never really enjoyed drinking, but lately, beer kept crossing my mind. Maybe it was because so many things frustrated me. That sounded right. It reminded me of my mercenary days—living one day at a time, stuck in a life that never improved and where death seemed impossible.

My chest felt heavy, as if a ball of lead pressed down on it. No matter how long I slept, my mind never refreshed. I had no choice but to lean on alcohol to escape my reality.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, I headed toward Your Mother's Trumpet. Then I stopped suddenly. If my master saw me now, he would have slapped me on the back of the head.

I let out a long, quiet breath and looked up at the night sky. I didn't expect to uncover the whole truth so easily. The situation had grown far more complex than I'd anticipated. Now wasn't the time for drinking; I needed clarity first. Standing alone in the deserted street, I sifted through my chaotic thoughts.

Glenn doesn't seem to be a member of the church. That was what I believed. Judging by his appearance today, he looked more like someone who hated the imperial family than a church member. It felt as if he forced himself to support the church, the empire's greatest enemy, simply because he despised the imperial family and wanted to humiliate them. His attitude was impulsive, but not unusual for his age.

I did not think he had completely lost his mind, so it seemed unlikely he would join the church out of anger. Of course, that held true only in most cases. If someone lost their mind, they could do surprising things. I couldn't jump to conclusions.

So, was Perist a church member? That seemed more likely, though I couldn't be sure. I realized once again how little I knew about the church. This ignorance extended beyond me to everyone—the people of the empire, the Great Families, the Hero Society, and even the Sun Church, which directly opposed the church. None of us truly understood it.

Then who knew the most about the church?

I turned and started moving swiftly. I didn't take the tram or stroll like usual. Instead, I dashed through the academy grounds with light steps. It didn't take long to reach the Yellow Building. I stopped in front of Room 202 and knocked. I sensed someone inside before the door opened.

"Yes? L-Luan?" Evan looked at me with a puzzled expression.

I knew he shared the room with Charis, but he happened to be alone now. "I need to talk with you for a moment."

"What about?"

"Something about the church."

Evan tilted his head. "The church? All of a sudden?"

It was an innocent attitude, but I couldn't help laughing. "Yes."

"I don't mind, but why me?" he asked.

"Because it concerns the Dark Church. So naturally, I have to ask the Young Dark Pope."

A smile slowly spread across Evan's face. It was not sudden but unfolded like a page turning.

The human face was truly fascinating. Even the slightest shift in feature, expression, or angle could completely alter a person's impression. A familiar smile could carry an entirely different meaning depending on the mood or moment.

Evan's smile looked exactly as I remembered—refreshing, gentle, warm. If I had to put it into words, I'd call it a smile like sunshine. But the one he gave after hearing the words Young Dark Pope couldn't have belonged to the Evan Helvin I knew.

"I think this will be a long conversation." Evan smiled again and gestured toward the room. "Want to come in?"

I nodded.