······Three months since the professor promotion review began.
The Magic Tower was still abuzz with debate over the Chief Professor.
Deculein had not only unrivaled “spell formula interpretation ability” and a “theoretical framework,” but also the backing of the Yukline family. However, in overall competence, Luina was superior to Deculein, and above all, because of the difference in their character, public opinion still overwhelmingly held that Luina was the more likely candidate.
They said that Deculein was already nearly arrogant beyond measure, and the existing professors supported Luina out of fear of what he would become if he were made Chief Professor.
Moreover, the Magic Tower’s standards of evaluation were not family or status, but “one’s own worth and achievements.” The chairwoman, Adrinne herself, was from the untitled nobility.
Therefore, because she believed in the legitimacy of the selection process for Chief Professor, Luina resisted.
Despite the countless pressures and threats from Yukline, she did not give up. Even if it meant death, she would not submit.
However······ today.
—If that position is not more important than your family, then stop now.
That voice of his, always so strong, was now unbearably frail and dry. Those words from her father broke Luina.
Yukline’s pressure was spreading not only to Luina herself, but to her entire family.
Originally, McQueen had belonged to the traditional twelve families, but from the day they were eliminated at the Bercht Conference ten years ago, everything had gone awry.
Her father lost his mana from a grave injury, and the McQueen family lost its renown.
Now, McQueen no longer had the strength to oppose Yukline.
It was not something that could be solved by her enduring and holding out alone.
The situation she realized too late was far more serious than she had expected.
Not only her father, mother, and younger sibling, but the retainers, the household, and the entirety of the family’s territory were collapsing.
Pat, pat······.
It was a day when rain fell in a steady drizzle.
Soaked in a helplessness far greater than the streams of water drenching her entire body, Luina went to find Deculein.
“Impossible.”
The outer gate of the Yukline manor, one of the grandest in the imperial capital. The guard standing before it blocked her path.
“I came because I have something to say.”
“If you do not have a prior appointment, it is impossible.”
“I know, I know that. But I have something to say!”
“Impossible.”
“······I said let me through! If you tell him Luina is here, Deculein will······.”
Several guards stopped her. Luina shoved and was shoved back as the struggle continued for quite some time, until the commotion ceased at someone’s single sentence.
“What is going on?”
It was Deculein.
Beyond the gate, beneath the umbrella held by a servant, he looked at her. That gaze that seemed to look down on her, those eyes filled with disregard and contempt—Luina hated them to death.
“You again, Luina.”
Deculein’s eyebrow twitched. Luina pushed the guards away and brushed off her clothes.
“······.”
Glaring at him, she moved her lips. The words she would rather die than say circled in her mouth. She truly would rather die than say them, but······.
At last, as if coughing up blood, she declared.
“······I’ll give up.”
“‘Give up’?”
“Yes.”
Deculein looked down at her as though she were a lost mongrel.
“I’ll give up. Then this is all over, isn’t it?”
Luina continued in a trembling voice.
“So, let’s stop now.”
“······‘Stop’?”
A sneer leaked from Deculein’s twisted lips.
The words that followed were hateful.
“What is it you are telling me to stop?”
“······What?”
Yukline had pushed her entire family to the edge of a cliff. The deadlines on their promissory notes had been shortened to an absurd degree, and the family’s checks had become scraps of paper.
Their entire territory was on the verge of bankruptcy.
“Luina. I have no idea what you are trying to say······”
Deculein walked slowly, one step at a time. A cold scorn settled in his pupils.
“But if you have come to apologize.”
Apologize.
That damned word was absurd.
“Then you will need the appropriate posture.”
Beneath the umbrella his servant held for him, Deculein’s blue eyes flashed aloofly.
“You are standing far too upright right now.”
Luina bit her lip. Her teeth dug into the flesh, and blood flowed.
“······Apologize?”
“Yes. After your family was eliminated at Bercht, you received Yukline’s support. It was thanks to Yukline that you did not fall to ruin then. Yukline forgave McQueen’s acts of ingratitude, yet now that its child has once again forgotten her place and is trying to behave like a cur, should I not naturally receive an apology?”
Deculein’s tone was calm and aristocratic. Luina glared at him with her fists clenched. Deculein narrowed his eyes.
“······A tree rotten from the roots cannot live. Very well. Watch and see. Your family will simply be reduced to a vegetable.”
Saying so, he turned his back.
At that moment, the world spun. It felt as if the sky had collapsed.
She wanted to disappear far away just like this. But for the sake of her family, she could not run.
To his departing back, Luina shouted.
“Wait!”
Deculein stopped. Then, twisting only his head, he looked back at her.
“······I’ll do it.”
Slowly, blood flowing from her lip, Luina knelt.
Splat—
Mud mixed with rainwater seeped into her clothes.
“······.”
This time, even Deculein seemed somewhat surprised.
“······I’m sorry. I will······ apologize.”
Luina lowered her head and shed tears. Those tears mixed with the rainwater and did not show.
Soon, along with a small sneer, a contemptuous tone descended.
“Tsk. Vulgar and pathetic thing.”
Deculein strode toward her. The rain was pouring down even harder.
“A dog-worm of a damned family not even a hundred years old, without roots or history.”
Onto her kneeling knee, his shoe heel came down.
“The sight of you crawling upward, not knowing your place, all to protect one scrap of pride······.”
He pressed down heavily. As if branding her, he stamped down, hard, again and again.
Luina felt a pain as though her heart were being torn apart.
“It was truly revolting and filthy to behold.”
Crunch—!
His heel struck her knee. Flesh tore, ligaments ruptured, and blood seeped out over them.
Luina desperately held back a groan.
“Get out of my sight. If you want your family to recover, do not show that damned face of yours before my eyes again.”
Deculein spat the words as though chewing them up and turned away, but Luina remained there.
The guards returned to watching the outer gate, and thick rain covered her entire body. Blood welling up in surges mixed with the rainwater and flowed away.
The day after she begged forgiveness until the rain stopped, Luina wrote her resignation letter to the University Magic Tower. Two days later, she left the Empire, and after a week, everything returned to normal.
But Luina did not forget the humiliation of that day.
She worked like mad.
As Chief Professor of the Kingdom Magic Tower, she wrote numerous papers, developed magic, earned money that way and rebuilt her family, and even came to gain the respect of the kingdom’s people. The result of all that was now······.
The Imperial Palace.
Feeling as if the world had changed beyond recognition, Luina stood in the imperial citadel. When she presented her identity to the guardsman, he opened the gate with a salute.
From the entrance of the imperial citadel to the Imperial Palace took a full forty minutes. There were several inspections, and midway, she even changed carriages.
At last, she arrived at the “Path of Humility,” which led to the secluded Imperial Palace.
“Luina, von Schlot McQueen!”
When the Emperor called her name, she felt as if she possessed the entire world. She was moved by the favor the Emperor showed her.
However, in the very next moment.
“Deculein, von Grahan Yukline!”
When she heard that bastard’s name and saw that bastard’s face.
“······.”
Luina resolved herself once more.
She would not lose now.
No, she would pay back the humiliation of that day twofold, threefold.
Sharpening the blade in her heart, Luina quietly walked the “Path of Humility.”
* * *
I looked at Luina in the hall of the Imperial Palace. Outwardly, Luina gave off a prickly impression.
“Do not look at me.”
In truth, she was on edge like a drawn blade. Without a word, I withdrew my gaze.
“By the way, you have held out in that position for quite a long time. I heard your ‘Brain’ committed suicide more than three years ago.”
This time, Luina spoke first. I answered.
“Do not address me.”
“······.”
There was no need to go out of my way to act kindly toward someone hostile to me. If I pretended to be kind while knowing nothing, it would only be full of adverse effects.
It was a simple fact I had realized after living as Deculein for nearly half a year.
“We will conduct a light body search.”
At that moment, the maids approached.
Luina took off her coat first and was searched. Looking at the items filling Luina’s bag, the maid asked.
“What are these?”
“Gifts to present to His Majesty, and lesson materials.”
Glancing over, I saw a magic book and thick stacks of materials. The palace mage beside the maid inspected them magically.
“Yes. That will do. Now, Lord Deculein?”
I also rose and approached the maids. The time they spent searching my body was especially long.
The maid looked at the item in my velvet bundle.
“What is this?”
“A gift to present to His Majesty.”
The maid took the item out of the bundle. It was a bottle of Prudua wine from the year 33, considered one of the finest on the continent.
“······Alcohol requires a more detailed procedure, so we will conduct a precise inspection before presenting it.”
“Very well.”
“Tsk. We came here to teach, not to hold a drinking party.”
I did not answer Luina’s words.
In any case, the search ended like that, and we followed the maid up the stairs of the Imperial Palace.
The space where the Emperor received lessons was set apart and called the “Hall of Learning.”
Soon, before a door carved with a golden lion, the maid knocked first.
Knock, knock—
“Your Majesty, the two teaching mages have arrived.”
—Let them enter.
“Yes.”
The maid opened the door with her eyes closed and her body bowed. The Emperor sat in his chair, staring this way.
I stepped inside and paid my respects.
“Deculein von Grahan Yukline. I greet Your Glorious Majesty the Emperor.”
“Luina von Schlot McQueen. I greet Your Glorious Majesty the Emperor.”
“Good. Welcome.”
With the Emperor’s guard knight, “Keiron,” standing behind him like a statue, the maid closed the door.
Luina and I approached the Emperor a little more. The Emperor asked lazily.
“Magic······ Yes, this is our first lesson today, so where shall we begin?”
Luina quickly stepped forward.
“First, we intend to determine which school and attribute Your Majesty is comfortable with.”
“School? Attribute? Ah, you mean the Eight Schools.”
“Yes.”
“No need. Magic at a first meeting? Enough. Let us simply talk.”
“······?”
Luina’s eyes widened in bewilderment. She seemed to be struggling over how to respond as she alternated her gaze between the lesson materials and lesson plan filling her arms and the Emperor.
“Sit. Let us just chat.”
As Luina merely opened and closed her lips, the Emperor pointed to a chair.
I shook my head.
“We are teaching mages selected to explore magical truths together with Your Majesty. If this is not to be a lesson, there is no need for us to remain here.”
For now, I needed to set my course clearly.
I could not be swept along by the Emperor. If I allowed the Emperor to grow lazy, the game’s difficulty itself would rise sharply.
The Emperor’s brows drew into the shape of the character 八.
“I said I do not want to.”
“Doing it even when one does not want to is tradition, etiquette, and study.”
“······.”
The Emperor glared at me. Tap— tap— tap— as if displeased, he drummed his fingers on the desk.
Without a word, Luina sent a signal to my back. It was the “Wizard Code,” a Morse code between mages.
—What are you doing right now? At this rate, you’ll fall out of His Majesty’s favor. Me too, because of you. Damn it.
I did not reply.
Then the Emperor scratched his eyebrow and spoke.
“Then let us do this. You two, do you know how to play chess?”
Chess. I knew the basic rules and opening patterns to some extent.
However, that was not Kim Woojin’s memory, but Deculein’s. Aristocratic hobbies and specialties such as horseback riding and chess were naturally ingrained in Deculein’s body.
“Yes. I am lacking, but I do know how to play.”
Luina answered. A smile appeared at the Emperor’s lips.
“Good. Then how about this? Let us decide it with chess. If you win, I will take the lesson as you say. However, if you lose, you will return just like this. Not another word. Today’s lesson ends here.”
“······.”
Luina glared at me with resentful eyes.
I was merely curious.
Just how far would 「Comprehension」 apply to this chess?
“Understood. Luina, you go first.”
I pushed Luina forward. Thrown out before she knew it, she cursed me with her expression, but soon approached with her head lowered.
“My skills are lacking, but I dare to be Your Majesty’s opponent—”
“It matters not if the two of you put your heads together.”
At the emperor’s words, I shook my head. I intended to observe Luina and the emperor’s chess match first, then determine whether 「Comprehension」 could be applied.
“Hm. One-on-one is dull, but fine. Let us begin.”
“Yes.”
Luina was white, and Sophien was black.
Tak—
The cheerful sound of a piece striking the chessboard.
The opening was familiar, and the match proceeded slowly.
Luina deliberated several times over even a single move, but Sophien only glanced at the board before moving a piece. That posture alone made the outcome obvious.
······And so, perhaps an hour passed.
“Checkmate.”
Only black pieces remained on the chessboard.
“······I lost.”
“Luina, you are far too safety-oriented and analytical. Good grief, playing Chiron would be more entertaining. Now then, next is you, Deculein?”
The emperor looked at me. A faint hostility flickered in those interested eyes. Before I knew it, the emperor had come to dislike me.
“Yes.”
“You had better amuse me a little. Otherwise, I may punish you.”
I sat down in Luina’s place.
“Each of us has only one chance.”
“One?”
“Yes.”
It was insurance, in case my mana happened to run dry.
“If I lose, I will withdraw cleanly. There will be absolutely no rematch or review.”
“······Fine. Do as you fucking please.”
Those vulgar words grated on my ears.
Since I was white, I had the first move. I simply moved my hand. Soon, black responded to my move, and I played chess as my hand led me.
But at some point, without my realizing it,
my vision was dyed blue. It was as though a vivid blue paint had seeped into my pupils.
It was the manifestation of 「Comprehension」.
* * *
······Sophien thought.
He was impossible to read.
If she had to compare him to something, it was like watching a wild dog. His play was that rough, incomprehensibly swift, and lawless. It was quite fierce and savage, yet still crude.
An unrefined wildness, sharp as shards of glass.
A keen blade that, should she let her guard down even a little, would inflict a fatal wound upon her.
Compared to Luina, he was dozens of times more ferocious and threatening.
From the opening, he induced a melee and charged forward with nothing but offense. If he saw an opening, he dug into it; if he could take something, he bit it apart.
Sophien alternated her gaze between the state of the chessboard and her opponent’s face, then developed her bishop.
Tak—
Tak—
As if pursuing it, the queen immediately moved.
From conception to execution, it took less than three seconds for him to use his queen. His recklessness was astonishing, but it was not an incorrect move either.
Sophien looked steadily into her opponent’s eyes.
He—the head of Yukline—was staring at the chessboard without the slightest tremor.
Was he starving for lack of prey,
or did he simply enjoy fighting?
Whichever it was, he had a temperament quite different from his appearance.
“······Hmph.”
However, Sophien knew the weakness of such biased play.
A starving wild dog was blinded by its own aggression, and would destroy itself even on a trivial trap.
Tak—
Sophien deliberately revealed a flaw in the connections she had been steadily building. It was a trap that looked like a mistake.
A mistake appetizing to anyone’s eyes, but the moment the opponent set foot there, he would be surrounded.
Sophien maintained her poker face and waited for her opponent’s move. The wild dog did not even hesitate. He fell into it exactly as Sophien had guided him.
The wild dog, unaware that he had been caught in a trap, continued to bite tenaciously, and Sophien smiled.
Tak—
The knight took his queen.
With this, the game was over.
It should have been over.
······And yet.
“······.”
Sophien found it strange that the position was still continuing. The game that had seemed as though it would end at any moment was lasting longer than expected.
He moved his pieces without the slightest hesitation.
As the emperor, she could not very well spend longer thinking than he did.
Out of sheer obstinacy, Sophien matched his speed, but he truly attacked without pause.
She successfully countered and devoured that offensive, yet strangely, little by little, she felt as though she were sinking into a quagmire.
The position was clearly still—no, had been favorable to her from beginning to end.
And yet, what was this strange atmosphere?
Victory was right before her eyes, so what in the world was this bizarre sensation, as if she were instead being dragged along by him······?
At some point.
Deculein stopped moving. The chess match had now entered the “endgame,” and the emperor looked down at the empty chessboard, its pieces greatly reduced.
Why had he suddenly stopped?
Sophien wondered, and soon predicted Deculein’s moves from the arrangement on the board.
One move, two moves, three moves······ The pieces unfolded within Sophien’s mind.
His bishop stood on a square connected to the king, and her queen took his bishop, but······ on exactly the eighth move.
“······.”
The emperor saw her own defeat.
If Deculein played on like this, it was a defeat impossible to overcome with any move.
No.
It was not “if he played on like this.” He had “led her into this outcome.” That was the reason for the eerie atmosphere she had felt all along.
Sophien could not understand this exquisite arrangement. Every piece Deculein had left on the chessboard, every position, had meaning.
Had I taken it too lightly, too much as a joke?
At what point, exactly, did I begin to be dragged along like this?
In silence, the emperor lifted her eyes.
“······.”
Deculein was looking straight at her. His gaze, which had been fixed on the chessboard the entire time, was now locked directly onto her.
He had no expression at all.
Now, all he had to do was move a piece.
······However.
His next action once again strayed far beyond Sophien’s expectations.
Tuk—
He knocked over his own king.
The white king rolled across the chessboard, then fell.
The emperor lifted her eyes from the king she had been following and looked at Deculein.
“What are you doing?”
To that impassive question, Deculein answered.
“I lost.”
As if this were the most natural result.
Sophien asked back.
“My king has not yet been taken.”
“I see no solution beyond this.”
······Is that solution yours, or is it mine?
Before the emperor could ask that, Deculein abruptly stood up.
“Since both of us have been defeated by Your Majesty, we will unfortunately withdraw for today. I will see you next week.”
The agreement was to leave without another word.
No review, no rematch.
Deculein faithfully carried out the agreement, and the emperor glared at his retreating back.