Ch.104Chapter 104

Though Wendigo did not point his ice sword, no one dared to move carelessly.

Even the notoriously rough northerners with any sense could recognize that this was a time for waiting, not protest.

And those with even better intuition had already determined that their interview had begun.

Otherwise, why would someone invite guests only to draw weapons?

‘Indeed, befitting a Djin with nothing ordinary about him.’

‘My ancestors said that even when meeting a troll, one can kill it if they keep their wits about them.’

Those with something to believe in silently admired Wendigo as they looked up at him…

‘…He’s more docile than I expected?’

Wendigo was taken aback when he sensed goodwill and respect in some of their gazes.

Though he felt sorry for those who had responded to the invitation with genuine goodwill and passion, what Wendigo had wanted was for them to collectively bristle and protest.

That would have naturally led to shouting, and amid the chaos, he could have singled out the troublemakers to humiliate them and extract compensation for the insult…

But with everyone waiting like gentle lambs for him to speak, that wouldn’t be easy.

In this situation, if he randomly grabbed someone to humiliate, he would obviously just look like a mad Djin.

‘I’ll need to modify my plan a bit.’

However, he had absolutely no intention of conducting a normal interview.

Wasn’t it natural justice that if you harm others, you should provide compensation?

Although he hadn’t intended to harm anyone, and strictly speaking, they were members of different tribes so he couldn’t behead them, he still planned to make them spit something out.

As his thoughts lingered, creating an awkward silence, Wendigo gestured and a perceptive servant quickly approached to ask:

“Is there something you require?”

“Bring the letters they wrote. Since they were selected based on the impressive content of their letters, it would be good to interview them based on those writings.”

Those with educational aspirations… those dreaming of becoming professors, nodded in strong agreement with Wendigo’s statement.

It was natural to gain recognition by answering questions about the goals and educational principles they had written in their letters, which had led to their selection.

However, not everyone could take this calmly.

Some had hastily written their letters, planning to prepare properly only after being selected…

‘This is insane…’

‘Should I run away now?’

And some were even worse, having focused solely on currying favor.

Dario recalled what he had written and trembled nervously.

Though he had expected the Forest King to be an eccentric Djin, he had still assumed that like ordinary Djin, he would appreciate flattery, and so what he had written…

‘Damn, that was just a gold-plated scrap of paper.’

No proper concrete plan, no clear direction, just phrases prepared to get selected.

Of course, once the questioning began, his true purpose in sending the letter would be immediately exposed.

Shortly after, the servant brought a bundle of letters tied together with string, containing the submissions of today’s visitors.

To Dario and some other opportunists, it looked as ominous as a death warrant.

“It’s difficult for me to read them directly, so read them aloud.”

“Yes!”

At Wendigo’s command, the servant responded loudly, his eyes gleaming.

Wendigo’s gaze swept over the people, and he selected one suitable person.

“You seem like the best example to start with.”

“I’m honored.”

The one Wendigo pointed to was an old man with long hair and beard. Yet no one dared underestimate him.

Though the old man appeared quite aged, the presence emanating from his robust physique was no different from that of a young warrior, and his clear, transparent eyes revealed the wisdom of someone with vast experience.

Someone who recognized the old man’s identity murmured:

“The Wise Walton!”

“A nickname ill-suited for an old man.”

People murmured at the unexpected appearance of such a prominent figure.

The tales of The Wise Walton were treated like living legends.

Having lost his tribe in childhood and becoming a wanderer, he had worked as a mercenary for various tribes. At some point, he began to take books and knowledge as his companions, and one day abruptly left the north for the Empire.

Up to this point, one might think of him as a knowledgeable person with a somewhat unfortunate past… but Walton was far more capable than expected.

His footsteps, which began in the north, led him to the Empire, then to the Old Empire in search of more knowledge, and even further to the eastern lands said to be full of deserts…

“Why is someone like that here?”

Wendigo asked curiously as he listened to the servant’s explanation.

From what he heard, this man could live comfortably even in the south, not just the north…

As the servant didn’t know the answer and rolled his eyes, Walton approached Wendigo and answered instead:

“There’s nothing special about my reason. I realized that it’s impossible to contain all the world’s knowledge even if I wander for a lifetime, so I simply wanted to be buried in my homeland when I die.”

“Then why did you send a letter? You could have just lived out your days peacefully in your homeland.”

Wendigo saw in Walton’s transparent eyes the look of someone who had transcended death. It was the same look Jacken had shown when he stood against him.

Such people tend to burn everything for their mission and wait for death without regret…

In response to Wendigo’s question, Walton took out a small ornament from his chest. The ornament, weathered over considerable time, was difficult to recognize in its original form.

Yet the mystery it contained was no less impressive.

‘He must have carried it around for many years, repeating something… Reminiscing about memories?’

Repeated actions with meaning, regardless of intent, tend to become a ritual.

The tribe must have been more precious to Walton than expected.

Walton fiddled with the ornament and spoke:

“It’s merely an old man’s final whim. On the day I lost my tribe and became a wanderer, I surely wasn’t the only survivor… and if so, someone unlike me must have sown seeds and raised children.”

“And those children would be adults by now… and you want to teach them?”

“If I’m capable, that’s what I’ll do, and even if not, as long as the university functions properly, the north will become a slightly better place to live. Then the tribe’s survivors… or at least their children might benefit.”

Walton calmly expressed his thoughts. But then…

“Truly, a heart-warming story!”

“Your Majesty, this person is qualified to teach people. If not someone like him, who else could provide guidance!”

“I’m ashamed of myself for only valuing knowledge!”

“……”

The professor candidates who had been listening were deeply moved and knelt before Wendigo, pleading for Walton’s appointment.

Though Wendigo had already intended to appoint Walton, the situation was quite embarrassing.

Honestly, it wasn’t a pleasant sight to see burly men getting teary-eyed and making cringeworthy statements.

Walton seemed to feel the same way, as he frowned and tried to restrain them.

“No one exists in this world without a story. I want to fairly discuss…”

“Though everyone has a story, few use it as a cornerstone to aim for greater goals!”

“If not someone with such a noble purpose as yours, who else would be suitable! Don’t be ashamed!”

‘Even the wise seem to dislike this madness.’

Wendigo nodded as he saw Walton’s jaw muscles twitching.

It wasn’t particularly pleasant when others caused a commotion while the person in question remained composed.

Wendigo’s eyes met Walton’s, and after staring at Wendigo for a moment, Walton nodded.

‘He wants me to resolve this situation quickly.’

Responding to his wish, Wendigo raised his ice sword.

And instead of swinging it… he lifted it with both hands and thrust it back into the ground.

BOOM!!!

“……”

“Ah, finally some quiet.”

The cold air bursting from the ice sword instantly dispelled the people’s fervor, and the thunderous sound focused their attention.

“First, I want to express that I too was deeply moved by Walton’s story. Your words were transparent, without a hint of falsehood.”

“At an age where I can hardly predict if I’ll wake up tomorrow, I haven’t wasted my years enough to seek gain through lies.”

“The world I know doesn’t turn all elderly into respected elders like you.”

As Wendigo showed respect to Walton, people were amazed.

It was rare for a Djin to acknowledge others, and considering Wendigo’s position, it wouldn’t have been strange if he had merely expressed admiration rather than respect to Walton.

Yet showing respect to Walton in front of many people was proof of Wendigo’s greatness.

“I want to appoint you. Will you teach students at the university?”

“Everyone is devoted to what they want to do. I will never give you cause for regret.”

“Ah, before that, just to be sure… could you briefly tell me about the academic fields you’re confident in?”

“……”

Walton raised one eyebrow in bewilderment, but since his appointment was already promised, there was no reason not to speak.

Moreover, his position was essentially secured based on his personal story and people’s testimonials rather than reading his letter.

It wasn’t strange that the Forest King didn’t know the depth of his knowledge, which would have been evident from reading the letter.

Walton stroked his beard and concisely explained the academic fields he had mastered…

‘Hmm… he knows many things. Perhaps I should have him work with Geron.’

Did Walton sense Wendigo’s wicked(?) plan?

Flinch.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just startled by a sudden chill.”

“I’m sorry. It must be from being near me too long. Now that I understand the depth of your scholarship, you may step back.”

As Walton stepped back, Wendigo instructed the servant:

“From now on, mark those who have studied administrative or legal scholarship.”

“Understood.”

The servant quietly noted the administrative and legal fields that Walton had mentioned in the corner of his letter.

The servant was curious to see how many among them would become the king’s slaves, no, administrators.

* * *

With Walton as the start, the interviews continued. However, the atmosphere was considerably more heated than before…

“According to what you wrote in your letter, you boasted that appointing you would make the university run more efficiently.”

“Well, about that…”

“Answer quickly!!!”

“Don’t tell me you were planning to exploit the university, which will be responsible for the north’s future, for your own security! You trash!!!”

Walton’s deeply moving story had ignited the hearts of those who came with a sense of mission.

Of course, becoming a university professor had always been an honorable position.

It meant being one of those responsible for the foundation of studying and teaching scholarship, and cultivating knowledge and wisdom in the north, a place far from academic pursuits.

But through Walton’s story, the title of professor had taken on a slightly, just slightly more weighty responsibility.

“While some are prepared to risk their lives for descendants born in this barren land, you!!!”

“You dishonorable, vulgar bastard. Come out! Draw your sword! I’ll personally end your filthy life!”

In their minds, professors were now beings who sacrificed their lives for the north’s future.

Those with such noble intentions in their hearts could not forgive those who tried to use such positions for personal advancement.

Especially the hunters and warriors looked ready to draw their swords immediately. No, judging by their hands on the hilts, they were clearly ready to slaughter at the first permission.

Indeed, the northern custom of not hesitating to kill for honor…

‘Not bad though. Thanks to this, the atmosphere is right for extracting something from these bastards.’

Wendigo tapped the ground twice with his ice sword to capture the interviewee’s attention.

The man was trembling as if about to collapse, looking no different from a criminal who had committed a blasphemous sin.

“Seeing your inability to answer properly, it seems you truly were just babbling for your own greed… Did I seem that ridiculous to you?”

“No, no! Absolutely not!!!”

At Wendigo’s question, the interviewee prostrated himself with a deathly pale complexion.

In a situation filled with murderous intent from all directions, if Wendigo branded him a criminal, he might not make it back alive.

Wendigo addressed him in a stern voice:

“If I wasn’t ridiculous to you, how could you disrespect me with lies, ignoring the customs of invitation!”

“I’m sorry. I was blinded by ambition and committed a wrong!”

“Out of respect for your tribe, I’ll give you two choices. One is trial by combat…”

Glance.

The man slightly turned his head to look around at the people.

Each one glared with fierce eyes, looking ready to behead him immediately, suggesting that the moment he requested trial by combat, they would pounce like hungry beasts.

After building sufficient suspense, Wendigo threw the man a lifeline:

“The other is to pay an appropriate price and seek forgiveness.”

In reality, the man had only one choice.

Even if he won the trial by combat, he would be known for life as trash who tried to sell out the north’s future, and what kind of life would that be?

“Please allow me to send a letter to my tribe. Though it may be insignificant compared to the insult the Forest King felt, I will compensate to the best of my ability.”

As the man swore to compensate, Wendigo had the servant remove him.

The interviews continued, and wails echoed through the audience hall.

“Next… Dario of the Kaffustin family. Step forward.”

As dozens of pairs of eyes glared at him, Dario felt cold sweat running down his back.

However, Dario didn’t panic from the start.

‘They say another name for crisis is opportunity.’

If he could overcome this hurdle, the Kaffustin family would surely lead among the northern families of the Empire.

Dario straightened his posture and adjusted his facial muscles to control his expression.

Standing before Wendigo, Dario’s appearance was close to that of a typical handsome man, and people’s gazes were quite favorable.

First impressions are always the most important.

At least in terms of appearance, Dario resembled a gallant warrior or a minstrel rather than a con artist.

In simple terms, he fit the typical human archetype that northerners liked.

“Dario of the Kaffustin family greets the Forest King!”

“You smell, so step back a bit.”

“……”

At these unexpected words, Dario’s facial muscles trembled.