Episode 10. From Whom Did You Learn Magic?
The moment the magic duel ended, Professor Freit Young went straight to his office. He immediately summoned a student there.
“You called for me, Professor?”
Gaspelt Rui appeared with a relaxed expression. Professor Freit did not like that look one bit.
“You seem to be in a good mood?”
“Yes, well… did something happen?”
Gaspelt Rui was rather lacking in tact.
Professor Freit pressed his throbbing temple hard and spoke to Gaspelt.
“A problem may have arisen in our plans.”
“Stop making that stupid face. I’m telling you that a rival has appeared.”
The head of House Rui was one of Professor Freit’s sponsors. And he was someone who contributed quite a considerable sum of gold.
Count Rui had one goal: for his son, the heir to the household, to graduate from Elfenbein as quickly as possible and be appointed a mage. The deadline the Count had requested was the end of this year. The reason Professor Freit had pushed aside the other candidates and installed Gaspelt as his top disciple was because that deadline was drawing near.
When Gaspelt became the top disciple, a few controversies had arisen, but Professor Freit had consistently ignored them. Yet the person in question himself was acting as though all was right with the world.
“A rival? Wasn’t this year’s Scala selection practically decided in my favor?”
Being appointed top disciple did not guarantee selection for the Scala examination. Nor was it an exam that everyone who was selected could pass. To a certain extent, Professor Freit could manage things from behind the scenes, but it was impossible to completely disregard the eyes of others. In particular, the influence of a figure like Dean Angelo Yulio could not be ignored.
“How many times have I told you not to let your guard down? Are you training properly as instructed?”
“Yes, yes, of course. I’ve got it under control.”
Unaware of the anxious state Professor Freit was in, Gaspelt answered casually. Professor Freit felt his temple suddenly bulge. He exercised superhuman patience once more.
“Then show me.”
“Why so surprised? If you’d been training properly, you should have some proficiency in Tier 2 magic by now. Cast one.”
“Here in this cramped space? What if I make a mess?”
“I’ll take care of that. Do it.”
Gaspelt Rui muttered and cast a Tier 2 spell. To Professor Freit’s eyes, it was a pathetic display. In the end, his patience reached its limit.
“Do you have no awareness that your own skills are lacking? No sense of crisis? Even if you are selected, aren’t you afraid of your father’s wrath if you fail to pass Scala?”
“Come on, why would I worry when I have you, Professor?”
“You witless fool, do you call that a proper response right now!”
In the end, Professor Freit’s voice rose. Gaspelt hunched his neck and flinched.
Objectively speaking, Gaspelt Rui’s skills were one or two levels below those of the other top disciples. Count Rui wished for his son to return wearing the golden brooch by the end of this year. Along with that came the declaration that if he failed, all sponsorship would be cut off entirely. This was the worst-case scenario for Professor Freit, and no different for Gaspelt. Freit would no longer pour any attention into a student whose funding had dried up. Professor Freit was a thorough materialist, yet Gaspelt could not even grasp this simple conclusion.
Instead, he asked in bewilderment.
“Is this because of that rival? Who is it? I know, it’s Dennis, right? Did he scrape together some petty cash?”
“Dennis isn’t the problem.”
“Then who?”
“Binaeril Dalhaim.”
Gaspelt rolled his eyes for a few seconds.
“No way, that failing student?”
“Yes. ‘That’ failing student.”
“He only just advanced to senior, didn’t he? Hey, do you think I’m that much of a fool?”
“That failing student fought a magic duel with Gillian Baemes today.”
It took Gaspelt a moment to recall that system.
“So?”
‘Is this guy really a fool?’
Professor Freit swallowed his rising disappointment and added a kind explanation.
“He won. Overwhelmingly.”
According to the original plan, someone like Binaeril was no problem at all. The variable was that the boy was growing at a noticeable rate, and the second problem was that this had been confirmed by a person who should not have seen it. Namely, Dean Angelo Yulio. He was Professor Freit’s direct superior. If Binaeril maintained his current growth rate, it might become difficult to select Gaspelt for the Scala examination, because Dean Yulio would certainly raise an objection. To make matters worse, Professor Freit was not on very good terms with the dean. If Binaeril stagnated at his current level, that would be one thing… but it was not an assumption Freit could count on.
Professor Freit recalled the duel from earlier. Binaeril’s relaxed expression despite it being his first real battle. While the opponent was using clone magic and had stolen everyone’s attention, the boy had unleashed a spell at some unnoticeable moment. Dean Yulio had declared a victory by ruling due to Gillian’s foul, but in Professor Freit’s view, the result would not have changed even if the duel had run its course.
Separate from his feelings toward Binaeril, what had to be acknowledged must be acknowledged. The boy was a rising star. He was entirely different from the lazy talent standing before him.
“Enough. There is no need for you to understand. What is needed now is for you to prove officially that you are superior to Binaeril Dalhaim.”
“Uh… how?”
“Take first place in the subjugation practicum next week.”
A subjugation practicum was scheduled for next week, in which senior students would hunt small-class monsters.
“Barely winning won’t do. An overwhelming first place—that is what is needed. You can do it, right?”
“Come on, I won’t lose to some failing student. Don’t you trust me?”
Naturally, trust in Gaspelt was at rock bottom. Professor Freit resolved that he needed to find a countermeasure.
“That is enough if you understand. Now get out.”
Gillian Baemes staggered down the hallway, leaning against the wall. As soon as the duel ended, Binaeril was dragged away by Dean Yulio, and the remaining two professors also left with deeply contemplative expressions. They all seemed to have no interest whatsoever in the loser of the match.
“I didn’t lose… I didn’t lose….”
He repeated this self-comfort, but he knew. If Dean Yulio had not stopped the match, he would not have been able to stand on his own two feet.
“How?”
Binaeril Dalhaim was nothing more than a transfer student who had only just arrived. Meanwhile, he himself was a mage who had trained for over a year as a senior student. It was even said that Binaeril had been the longest-standing junior in Elfenbein history—a perpetual failing student. How could he lose to such a greenhorn?
Kilian was so steeped in humiliation that he didn’t even notice someone approaching him.
“Gillian Baemes.”
“…?”
Over his hanging head, a clear girl’s voice rang out. He raised his head, but the backlight streaming through the window made it difficult to see who she was.
“Who are you?”
“I pronounce upon you the crime of assaulting and insulting royalty.”
“What are you talking about?”
“On the day the Princess returns to the royal palace, troops will be dispatched to the viscount’s household as well. Your crime is by no means light.”
“Damn it, what are you saying?”
Kilian swung his arm with unfocused eyes, but the girl easily subdued him. Her grip was strong for a girl.
“Hey… let go!”
Completely exhausted, Kilian lacked the strength to shake off her hand.
“Not only failing to recognize the Imperial Princess, but daring to lay hands on her person. Be grateful that Princess Friederike is merciful.”
“Princess Friederike?”
That was a name belonging to the Albrecht Imperial Family. Why was that name coming up now? Kilian suddenly recalled someone. The day he had been beaten unconscious by Binaeril—the blonde female student he had lightly pushed aside. Blonde… golden hair was one of the symbols of the Albrecht royal family. A chill ran down Kilian’s nape. Had he assaulted royalty?
“I-I’m sorry! Please spare me!”
“It is already too late.”
The owner of the voice answered coldly. She easily subdued Kilian, who was struggling.
Binaeril subtly raised his head, then hurriedly averted his gaze when their eyes met. Dean Angelo Yulio was glaring at him without a word.
‘Why on earth is he doing this? It’s scary.’
Binaeril reviewed the details of the duel. Had he over-defended? Was that why the dean was angry?
‘But that was a legitimate duel.’
Unlike last time, Gillian had not been injured or knocked unconscious. Because Dean Yulio had intervened at the appropriate time. Binaeril wanted to protest that he had done nothing wrong, but he couldn’t get a word out. Dean Yulio had a look in his eyes that could kill even a monster.
‘Could you tell me why you’re angry, Dean?’
-I’d rather not.
‘Why, you…’
“Mister Binaeril Dalhaim.”
Fortunately, at that moment Dean Yulio broke the long silence and spoke.
“From whom did you learn magic?”
“Professor Freit Young is currently supervising my instruction.”
He had answered too rigidly from nervousness, but Dean Yulio did not particularly point that out.
“It is obvious that Professor Freit has not been instructing you with any real interest. I could tell from his reaction today alone.”
It was a calm tone unfitting of his large build.
“I will ask again. From whom did you learn magic?”
But his gaze was not kind in the slightest. Binaeril felt a pressure incomparable to the verbal threats of that Gillian brat. It felt as if he were saying, ‘Do not even think of making excuses.’
As the dean said, Professor Freit had not taught Binaeril much. The one who had first taught him magic was not Freit, but Veritas. All of Binaeril’s magic had come from that mysterious book. But if he told the truth, would Dean Yulio believe him?
‘I picked up a book in the library, sir. It taught me magic, and it’s actually not an ordinary book—it looked like a person…’
No matter how plausibly he phrased it, it was hopeless. Even the most docile person in Elfenbein would ask if he was insane. He had not learned it from a professor, and he had no confidence in making Veritas understood. That left only one possible answer.
“I figured it out on my own.”
-Hah, the nerve of this guy.
Binaeril calmly and naturally ignored the inner voice’s criticism. He had to meet Dean Yulio’s gaze with composure. But inside, he was extremely anxious. Could a mage who had reached a higher realm see through lies? Was there such magic?
“…Hoo.”
Fortunately, the act seemed to have worked. Dean Yulio removed his monocle and polished it.
“Hah, figured it out on your own, you say…….”
Yulio recalled as he wiped the glass.
The final moment of the duel had been obscured by explosions and flames, making it difficult to see. The professors standing on either side likely had not understood the situation accurately either, so urgent had it been. Had they not simply thought that Binaeril had gotten one move ahead? But Dean Yulio had seen clearly. That Binaeril had launched his final counterattack without any preparation at all.
Exactly as Princess Friederike had said.
‘A mage who does not chant incantations.’
The dean had a question. Whether Binaeril could control this absurd ability at will, or whether he had unconsciously released mana because he was cornered. Putting on the cleaned monocle, the dean looked at the boy. He decided to test him.
“Would you be interested in participating in a special class?”