Genius Warlock

Squeak… thud.

Director Amelin entered her office with Oliver, carrying a lantern.

She ignited the lanterns hanging around, casting light throughout the room.

Thanks to this, the office's interior acquired an unusual crimson tint, fostering a mysterious ambiance distinct from daylight.

"You don't seem as surprised as I thought you would be. About me being a warlock," Oliver remarked as he took his seat.

He had prepared himself to reveal his identity as a warlock, but the director seemed more composed than he had anticipated.

"Zenon doesn’t seem like a bad person… Even if you were, there's nothing I could do about it," the director responded in her customary calm tone.

In truth, there was no calculation, intention, or pretense in her words.

"Do you have plans to cause harm here?" the director asked. Oliver raised his hands in surprise.

"No, I don't."

"Then, that's settled. Just a moment. Would you like some coffee? Is lukewarm okay?"

"Yes, that's fine."

Upon Oliver's agreement, the director poured coffee from a kettle she had prepared in advance.

"Would it be alright if we got straight to the point?"

Seated across from him, the director spoke. Although she appeared composed, her eagerness to receive news about Joanna out of genuine concern was apparent.

Oliver began to speak.

"As far as I know, Miss Joanna is currently in the New Continent, in a colonial city called First Step."

"First Step?"

"Yes, it's a United Kingdom colony and currently serves as both a military stronghold and a source of magic stones."

"Isn't the New Continent very dangerous?"

The director expressed her worry, a completely natural response.

To someone who had spent their entire life on the Old Continent, the New Continent was perceived as a land fraught with unknown dangers.

And indeed, it was hazardous.

Oliver deliberated whether to convey the stark truth or offer a more comforting falsehood but ultimately chose to honor the director's request with honesty.

"Honestly, it's not a safe place."

Upon delivering this response, Oliver observed the director. On the surface, she maintained her composure, but internally, her concern and sorrow were evident.

Oliver found it rather surprising that the orphanage director could harbor such emotions.

"…Is that so?"

"Yes. From what I've heard, there are quite a few warlocks there, and it's a rough place. Paladins often clash with them as well… I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. It's not because of you."

"Well… it might actually be because of me."

Oliver interjected. He too had questions that needed answering.

"Because of you?"

"Yes… The explanation might take a while, but it's probably my fault. The reason the Paladin went to the New Continent is that I suggested an investigation into human experiments involving wizards to the higher-ups."

Upon receiving this response, the director contemplated deeply, her eyes widening. She then inquired:

"…I have many questions, but the most pressing is, what does this have to do with you, Zenon? Did you pressure Joanna?"

"Similar. Someone I know was taken there, so I asked Miss Joanna to help."

Upon hearing this, the director's eyes widened in surprise once more.

Oliver recounted to the director how he became acquainted with Joanna and sought her assistance with the Mattel case when they reunited in Landa.

Thanks to the information he had previously shared with Yareli, he was able to present his account more succinctly and clearly.

"…So that's what happened."

"Yes… Since I brought up the Mattel case and made the suggestion, I feel like I have some responsibility as well."

The director nodded in thoughtful silence.

Her emotions were a complex web of sympathy and sorrow for Joanna, admiration, disquiet about the reality of the situation, self-disappointment, and self-reproach. Among these emotions, there was also a certain sentiment directed toward Oliver.

"Were you disappointed at that time? With the child?"

"Pardon?"

Oliver responded with a question, taken aback by the unexpected inquiry. The director calmly repeated her question, seemingly genuinely curious rather than confrontational.

"I'm asking if you were disappointed with Joanna."

"…Well, I don't think I have the right to be disappointed with anyone."

"That's strange. If you went to ask for help, there must have been some expectations."

Oliver couldn't argue with her logic. She was right. Seeking assistance inherently involves trust and expectations.

To ask for help without belief and expectation is indeed illogical.

"Yes, I did have expectations. That she would help."

Oliver corrected his earlier statement, or rather, he came to a more precise realization.

"What disappointed you?"

"Disappointed that, as a Paladin, she speaks of God and justice but turned her back at the most crucial moment?"

Oliver appended a question mark to his statement, as if he himself was grappling with confusion. Nevertheless, his words carried a sharp edge.

"Certainly, if someone always speaks well but fails to act accordingly at critical moments, they should be criticized."

The director's feelings toward Joanna radiated with sympathy, compassion, and understanding.

"That's why, in times like these, ordinary people can't even mention such things. Except for ironclad individuals or those with steel faces."

"Are you defending her?"

Oliver's tone subtly shifted. It was so subtle that it was difficult to pinpoint precisely what had changed. However, remarkably, this slight alteration lent an intimidating quality to his voice—a type of intimidation that typically left people speechless.

Even more surprisingly, the director continued to speak, undeterred by the intimidation.

"More like empathy than defense."

"Empathy?"

"I feel those emotions every day. Though I speak good words, at crucial moments I question and fear whether I can actually follow through."

Her words were sincere. The director spoke from the heart.

"Why do you feel that way?"

"Because I'm the director. I'm responsible for 64 children and three staff."

"……"

"I tell the children every day, following the teachings of past directors. Don't lie, don't steal, don't hurt others. Always live righteously by the teachings of God… But sometimes, I ask myself if I could do so in difficult situations."

"Have you ever…?"

"Shamefully, yes. Several times, when I was assisting the previous director. In financial struggles, I suggested reducing the number of children."

"……"

"And for your information, I knew. I knew how miserable the children who got kicked out would be. Some might even lose their lives. Still, I suggested reducing the number of children. Better to save a few than let all suffer, I thought."

"……"

"But the previous director did not. Instead, she went down to the village to work for money or almost begged neighboring landlords for donations. ‘No matter how insignificant the sheep may seem, they can't be abandoned,' she said. It's the God's will."

"Was she a priest? The previous director?"

"No, but she often read the scriptures. Like other previous directors. I also read them."

"Is there a special reason why you read the scriptures?"

"The first person to establish this orphanage was a priest."

"Ah… I see? May I ask the name of that priest?"

"I don't know. They did not reveal their name."

"A nameless priest, huh…" Oliver mused, feeling a sense of déjà vu from a similar story he had heard in the past. It seemed like an uncanny coincidence.

"Anyway, that priest left these words. Even if you may commit a sin in the future, even if you may become a coward, give the right teachings to the children. If you can't even do that, the children won't even have a chance to become right. Despite feeling ashamed and self-loathing, muster up the courage to tell the children the right words."

"Wow… that's touching. Though it still sounds like an excuse to my ears."

Oliver's tone had a sharper edge than usual. Most people would have been deterred and felt a considerable blow to their self-esteem upon hearing it.

"It could be. Honestly, saying this could also be an excuse for my future actions."

Director Amelin expressed her concern, worry, and fear.

"Has there been a recent instance?"

"Yes… when the donations from the Parter Church suddenly decreased. I was worried to the extent of contemplating sending the children to another orphanage. But an anonymous donation came, and we were barely able to get by."

"That's incredible. Despite receiving help, you didn't waver, that's truly amazing."

"I wanted to emulate the past director. I owe a great debt to them. Also… I wanted to not be a disappointment to Joanna. Do you know why she became a Paladin?"

"Isn't it for the younger kids here?"

"Exactly… She was truly special. Despite being an abandoned child herself, she was thankful for coming to this orphanage and wanted to be a strength to other children, and even adults like me."

The director's face lit up with a blend of cherished memories, pride, and regret for Joanna.

Oliver recalled the information Carver had shared.

About Joanna, who had been abandoned at the orphanage on a cold winter's day and had grown into a bright, resilient child—a beacon of strength for everyone. She had even caught the eye of the local priest and eventually became a Paladin.

"I've heard. She was already famous for her innate courage and resilience."

"That's not true."

"Pardon?"

"She was brave, considerate, and strong, but it's not like she didn't have fears or selfishness. She just hid them, and honed herself. To repay us and her siblings who raised her…"

The director's voice and emotions once again hinted at a trace of bitterness.

She carried guilt and indebtedness toward Joanna.

"Although it may sound cowardly, humans are fundamentally weak and selfish. If you don't have the mindset or determination, you may live your entire life without knowing anyone but yourself… even if you change, it may only be for a moment. Humans are fleeting creatures who may show their worst side at any time. That's why I pray to God every day."

"What do you pray for?"

"To not put me to the test, and if He does, to grant me the courage and strength. So that I can love myself."

"To love yourself?"

"Yes. I have to become a person I am not ashamed of, to love others. If you can't love yourself, how can you love anyone else?"

"I'm not sure… but it sounds like good advice."

"I'm glad you think so. So please forgive her. Humans are always being tested and can commit sins at any time."

"I-"

"-And forgive and love yourself."

"…? What do you mean?"

"It may be an old person's meddling, but you, Zenon, seem disappointed in yourself and unforgiving. I've seen a lot of kids like that in the orphanage."

Oliver remained silent. He grasped the director's words on an intellectual level, but emotionally, he struggled to fully comprehend them.

Internally, Oliver questioned himself, "Have I ever been disappointed in myself? Are there things I can't forgive myself for?"

He had no definitive answers.

"I'm sorry, but I don't quite understand what you're saying. However, one thing has piqued my curiosity."

"What is it?"

"What exactly is forgiveness? I've read about it several times in scripture, but I still don't understand. How should one forgive, how does one ask for forgiveness, and what does forgiveness mean? What is forgiveness, exactly?"

"That's a difficult question… I don't know the answer myself, but I do have my personal thoughts."

"I'd like to hear them."

"Forgiveness is suffering. For both the one granting it and the one seeking it."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, the one granting forgiveness has to bear their own pain and sorrow without demanding compensation. It is a different kind of suffering, and difficult to endure."

"Why is it painful for the one seeking forgiveness?"

"To genuinely seek forgiveness, you have to acknowledge that you're a sinner. That's harder than it sounds."

"Is it?"

"Yes, you have to realize your own guilt. Realize how big a mistake you've made, how much pain you've caused others… Most people fail at this stage."

"Why?"

"Most people easily rationalize their own sins. They say they had no choice. Or they give up everything, lost in their guilt. It's irresponsible."

"Hmm… After acknowledging that you're a sinner, what's next?"

"You must go to the victim and sincerely ask for their forgiveness. But this is also not easy. When people become aware of their sins, they instinctively want to distance themselves from it. They fear their guilt will worsen if they're not forgiven. That's why asking for forgiveness is also painful."

"Both granting and seeking forgiveness is full of suffering."

"Yes, that's why forgiveness is difficult and painful for both parties."

"Then why should we do it? It's just pain."

"Because it's the only means of salvation that can free both yourself and others from suffering."

The director spoke with gentleness yet conviction. It was a belief she held dearly.

"…So what you're saying is, forgiveness is both suffering and salvation?"

"Yes, in my opinion."

"I don't really understand."

"That's okay. I don't think there's a set answer."

"Hmm… May I ask one more question?"

"Go ahead."

"What's the standard for forgiveness? Should we forgive unconditionally if the other person is genuinely remorseful?"

"No… that would be too harsh. You should forgive when you're able to."

"So, when can one forgive?"

"When you want to save yourself, and when you want to save others. That's what I believe."