Great Teacher in a Defense Game

#2 From the Heart, Not Just the Lips

The Sister led Lacrimosa before Enoch.

Lacrimosa looked up at the man standing before her.

A great height and hair the colour of ash.

A gaze with a touch of melancholy.

Broad shoulders and a downward-leaning look.

An intellect shone strongly from his features.

That was Lacrimosa’s first impression of Enoch.

Meanwhile, Enoch was observing Lacrimosa in turn.

Silver hair and eyes of azure blue.

A manner both bewildered and, strangely, composed.

That was enough.

The girl before him was indeed the Lacrimosa he sought.

“So, you are Lacrimosa.”

“Ah, yes…”

Enoch spoke first.

He knelt on one knee to meet the girl’s gaze.

“A pleasure. My name is Enoch. My profession… consider me simply a businessman or inventor.”

“I am Lacrimosa. I heard you wish to take me away.”

Lacrimosa spoke with the bearing of a soldier.

Perhaps it was due to her background as an orphan.

She was wise beyond her years.

“The Sister must have already told you. Yes, that is correct. If you are amenable, I would like to take you straightaway. What are your thoughts on this?”

“I am amenable. But…”

Lacrimosa clasped her hands together, fidgeting.

She seemed to have something to say.

Enoch waited patiently.

Her lips parted slowly once more.

“If you don’t mind, would you tell me the reason you wish to take me away?”

“Reason?”

“Yes. The reason, you ask.”

“Hmm, the reason…”

Enoch rested a hand on his chin, lost in thought for a moment.

The reason for taking Lacrina along.

Simple enough, really.

Her presence would make the clearing of it all so much easier.

But he couldn’t very well say that out loud.

Enoch gathered his thoughts, then licked his lips.

Time to spin a tale.

“The reason is simple. Lacrina, I saw in you the makings of a hero.”

“…Pardon?”

Lacrina’s eyes widened into startled circles.

The nun beside her shared the same expression.

In a world beset by monstrous invasions, the word “hero” carried a weight all its own.

It was an answer they hadn’t dared imagine.

“A hero… but when could you have possibly seen me? I’m just a mere orphan, for goodness sake.”

“Does such a thing truly matter?”

“Of course… naturally, it does. I have nothing, no particular talents…”

Lacrina shrank in on herself.

The sudden declaration of heroism felt like quite the burden.

Yet, Enoch saw in Lacrina not disappointment, but a flicker of hope.

‘Young, I suppose. It’s plain as day, the way a few words can already shake her.’

Back in the game, Lacrina was practically the embodiment of self-deprecation and cynicism.

She possessed exceptional talents.

But her background offered her no support.

Even after entering the academy, it was the same.

She endured a constant barrage of slander and trials as if it were her due.

Ostracism, bullying, subtle acts of scorn.

To endure it all, Lacrina had killed a part of herself and steeled her heart.

Chillingly.

More piercingly cold.

So that not a single trace of warmth could penetrate her heart.

The world had driven her, fate had whipped her.

The result was the Absolute Zero Swordswoman.

A ‘Cardinal Class’ swordswoman capable of freezing an entire city with a single breath.

The Lacrimas Enoch knew were characters forged in such a bitter crucible.

But not now.

The Lacrima before him was not a swordswoman who had tasted all the bitterness of the world.

She was merely a timid child, afraid of disappointing others’ expectations.

In short, a very easy opponent to handle.

Feeling this, Enoch opened his mouth.

“Lacrima.”

“…Yes?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t particularly enjoy persuading others. I don’t have the time, and I don’t even have the will to do so in the first place.”

Lacrima lowered her head.

She seemed to believe that her attitude had disappointed him.

“Lacrima. This is purely out of my curiosity, but what qualities do you think a hero possesses?”

“A hero…? Well, I guess it’s talent, background, or mindset, wouldn’t you say?”

“Is that so? Is that all?”

“…’Is that all?’ It’s easy to say, but it’s not easy at all.”

Lacrima frowned, looking resentful.

She had spoken her mind, in her own way.

She seemed to feel that he was taking it lightly.

However, Enoch couldn’t hide his smile.

The reason was simple.

Enoch knew what future she would walk.

Perhaps Enoch knew her better than Lacrima herself.

And yet, that girl was arguing with all sorts of evidence that she was not a hero.

As an observer, Enoch could only find it amusing.

“Lacrima. I understand your theory of heroism well enough.”

“…Not particularly, it’s nothing so grand.”

“Really? It all sounds rather strange to me, then. I confess, even after hearing you out, I don’t quite grasp the problem.”

“Pardon?”

Lakrina tilted her head, as if questioning his sincerity.

Enoch met her gaze, then pointed to himself.

“Listen closely, Lakrina. Though I can’t promise much else, this one thing I can vow.”

“A vow…?”

“Indeed. A vow. I can become your foundation. As family, as mentor, as patron, as godfather. I will support you from behind in whatever manner you desire. Because—”

Enoch moved his finger.

Pointing at the frozen Lakrina.

“Because, all else, you already possess.”

“…”

“What was it you said? Talent, qualifications, background, a calling? Or perhaps a mindset? Yes, you mentioned countless other things, too. Which made it all the more absurd. All you lacked was a foundation, and yet you enumerated all that you already had, making me suspect you were boasting, to be honest.”

“…I—”

“Enough.”

Enoch cut her off with a finger to her lips, stopping whatever she was about to say.

“This needless back-and-forth ends here. And equally, your unnecessary self-deprecation. What’s needed now are actions, not words.”

Enoch pointed to her heart.

Contrary to her earlier attempts at composure, the girl’s heart had been pounding incessantly.

For what purpose did it beat?

Even the nun who had watched over her, even Lakrina herself, the heart’s owner, could not discern the reason.

Within the ageless rhythm of that flowing heart, all lost their meaning.

Whether the thoughts arising in her mind were excuses, or expectations.

None could truly know.

Only one thing spoke with unwavering clarity.

The one who remembered the lone blade, standing solitary, fulfilling its duty to the very end, amidst the frigidity of the icy snowscape.

The only one who remembered the girl’s true destiny.

Enoch.

Only that single soul.

“Lakrina.”

“…”

“From this moment on, I shall inquire not of your lips, but of your ambition.”

Enok spoke softly, his gaze meeting hers.

Not the lips that had dealt in realities, but of the ambition, the courage that screamed louder than a hundred words.

Because.

What had ultimately made her, was not her mouth, but her heart.

“Lacrimosa.”

“…”

“I shall make you a hero. Will you follow me?”

Lacrimosa did not answer immediately.

Though nothing physically barred her now as before, her lips remained strangely sealed.

Yet her heart cried out things even more vehement than her mouth ever could.

An emotion difficult to express in mere words.

Perhaps that was why.

After a moment, Lacrimosa offered not words, but action.

-Thump-

Lacrimosa’s small face rested upon Enok’s palm.

There were so many words wanting to be spoken, but they simply wouldn’t leave her mouth.

So she offered them as they were, whole, into his hand.

She knew not why, but somehow, she felt that he would understand its meaning.

And so he did.

Enok, seeing Lacrimosa bury her face in his palm, chuckled softly.

“You have much to say, but find it difficult to utter. And so, you offer it entire. Something like that, perhaps?”

“……”

“A wise choice, Lacrimosa. Welcome.”

Lacrimosa nodded, her face still hidden.

Affirmation.

@

Lacrimosa lifted her head a moment later.

Her face was a mess.

Tears and snot.

And a sundry of other things besides.

Enoch considered offering his handkerchief.

Decided a wash would be better, though.

“Go on and wash your face, first thing. If there are any friends you want to say goodbye to, do that, too.”

“…Yes.”

Lacrimosa scrubbed at her eyes and went inside the building.

Enoch rose to his feet, belatedly.

The nun, who had been silent, sniffled and spoke.

“This is the first time I’ve seen Lacrimosa show so much emotion. I thought I’d done right by her, but it seems she kept a great many things locked away in her heart.”

“She’s still young. A small wound can feel enormous at that age. It’s hardly your fault, Sister.”

“Do you think so? I hope you’re right.”

The nun pulled a tissue and wiped her eyes.

Then, she bowed her head towards Enoch, as if in thanks.

“I’m relieved, all the same. It seems Lacrimosa has found herself a protector better than I imagined.”

“Hmm. I wouldn’t be so sure. In the end, I intend to send that child to the harshest of battlefields. She may not know it now, but might she not resent me for it later?”

“No, she won’t. Because Lacrimosa is strong. At least, she doesn’t seem like the type to be swayed against her own will.”

The nun spoke those words, then quietly added, “You’re in for quite a bit of trouble.”

Enoch simply laughed it off.

He already knew she was stubborn.

If she hadn’t been stubborn in the first place, she never would have endured the scorn she faced at the academy.

“Ah, that reminds me, Sister?”

-Sniff-

“Yes?”

Enoch once more held out a wad of cash to the nun.

She felt a moment of confusion.

What? Is he offering that to me to blow my nose on?

“Lacrimosa trusts too easily for my liking. It’s thanks to you telling her good things about me, no doubt? This is in return. Please use it to supplement your operations.”

“…Just put it away.”

They’d already received more than enough in operating funds for the entire year.

This… this cannot be simply labeled greed.

The Sister thought, sighing softly.

Clearly, a good man.

It’s just… his spending felt a touch too carefree.

“Sister? This is a bundle of 50,000 Kros. Not 10,000.”

“I know…”