Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 62
>Chapter Title: Saint Yansk University and the Chamber of Secrets (5)
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*
Ivan didn't discriminate based on profession, gender, age, or race when it came to making friends, but he wasn't close with mages. And for that, there was a very rational and valid reason.
Most mages were born with inherent personality defects.
"What... What are you talking about?"
"It's a fact."
Ivan met Oswald's uneasy gaze with a cynical look of his own and calmly laid out the facts.
"Mages basically spend their time cooped up in their rooms, either manipulating mana or reading books."
"That's... true?"
"Now, think about other professions."
A warrior needs both real combat and training to grow stronger.
A warrior who only hits scarecrows in a training yard can't become strong. Naturally, they need an opponent.
Finding a skilled sparring partner and sweating alongside them fosters camaraderie and naturally improves their social skills. Any warrior who fails to do so ends up with their head bashed in.
A rogue has to identify their target's base, hideout, warehouse, or safe. Since this is inside information, the rogue naturally has to befriend the target or 'persuade' one of their acquaintances to get it.
The profession of a rogue is only suited for the highly sociable. In fact, Enrique, despite being a vampire, had quite a few friends.
Bards don't even need to be mentioned. Musical arts are a genre that no one but a natural-born social butterfly would dare attempt. This is proven by the super-extrovert Mozart and Salieri, who hated such extroverts. (Salieri was also a massive extrovert.)
And there was one more piece of decisive evidence.
"Almost all elves are mages."
"Yes."
"And almost all elves suffer from a congenital personality disorder."
"...Excuse me?"
Having successfully persuaded Oswald with a perfect syllogism (All elves are madmen. All elves are mages. Therefore, all mages are madmen.), Ivan gave him a warm look and nodded.
To reiterate, Ivan did not discriminate based on race or gender. He was a modern man from the 21st century.
Therefore, this wasn't racial discrimination, but merely a calm statement of fact.
Sadly, every demi-human race in this barbaric world was fundamentally afflicted with a congenital personality disorder.
There were the dwarves, who invented egalitarianism and hated everyone taller than them; the demons, who regarded humans as a somewhat creative food ingredient; ...and the elves.
Whenever a strange incident appeared in the annals of history, pointing the finger at an elf was usually the correct answer.
That was all.
Any further explanation would be uncool. Ivan looked at Oswald.
Oswald, who had been staring blankly at Ivan, gave a sad smile.
He seemed to have realized that he himself was both a mage and an elf.
"Is there a reason you're telling me this...?"
Oswald glanced around uneasily.
Many students were coming and going, casting furtive glances their way. This was the Mage Faculty.
About half of the students in the Mage Faculty were elves. In other words, this was the most densely populated area of elves and mages in all of Frichenkaya.
To say such things in the middle of a place like this.
*My school life is ruined.* Oswald smiled humbly.
If this were Earth, he could have enlisted in the army to wipe his slate clean, but in this unfortunate world, enlistment was voluntary while discharge was not.... Oswald had no choice.
"I need a mage."
"Aha. So the reason you were lecturing on the deficient character development of mages and elves in the middle of a freshman lecture hall corridor in the Mage Faculty's main building is because you want to hire a mage!"
Ivan looked at Oswald with newfound appreciation.
*He summarizes well. I shouldn't have needed to explain it from the beginning.*
"...I think it's a tremendous relief that you weren't reincarnated as a king or a high noble, Ivan."
A nation ruled by this man would become an evil empire armed with efficiency and rationalism. Wouldn't it have become a lucky version of the Nazis or the Soviets?
Oswald sighed deeply and said.
"And if you needed a mage, you could have just told me privately. I know how to use magic too."
"Magical Interpretation, C. Classical Spell Analysis, C-."
"W-Wait! How in the world do you know my grades...??"
"You are useless."
"Wow."
Mind Sorcery was a combat magic. While incredibly useful for espionage, most of its applications were specialized for war.
Destruction-type spells were flashy but had minimal effect. Tossing a fireball on the front lines would, at best, take down four or five people.
That level of firepower could be replaced by firearms. To nurture a high-level soldier capable of wielding mana for such paltry efficiency was nothing but a waste of resources.
Mind Sorcery, on the other hand, could use the same amount of mana to boost the morale of an entire squad. It could eliminate fear, inspire courage, and instill a terrible hatred for the enemy.
The tide of war generally depended on the morale of the soldiers. A front line that included a mage skilled in Mind Sorcery could fight for overwhelmingly longer than one without.
In those days, the goal on the front line was to 'endure,' so this was an incredibly powerful effect. After all, the only path to victory was to hold out until the Hero's Party beheaded the enemy's leadership.
In any case.
Mind Sorcery was a combat magic. And what Ivan needed was a traditional mage skilled in 'Ancient Magic Interpretation' and 'Protection Spells.'
"So you're looking for a mage who isn't an elf, has mastered protection spells, is proficient in ancient magic interpretation, and can keep a secret?"
"Correct."
"I think you'd have an easier time finding a dragon or a unicorn."
"So it is difficult."
"It's not difficult, it's impossible! If you give up on the 'not an elf' and 'keeping a secret' parts, it might be doable, but..."
Oswald looked around with a complicated expression, then lowered his voice to a whisper.
"You said you were close with the Hero's Party, right?"
"Mm."
"Well, there is one person. The mage who graduated top of her class in all theoretical subjects, including Ancient Magic Interpretation, and got an A+ even in non-major magic like protection spells. She's an elf, but since she's the daughter of your friend, she'll surely keep a secret."
Among the children of the Hero's Party, there was only one mage.
"...Elfihera."
"Yes, Miss Elfihera Grikenkos. She's also known to be kind and virtuous."
A genius said to have inherited her father's magical talent in its entirety. The one who scored the highest in the history of the Yansk University entrance exam....
"Hmm..."
He knew her as well.
Twelve years ago, just before the Hero's Party departed for the war.
He had seen her for just four days.
Back then, that little kid had been the very picture of an elf.
*
"Ugh, what is that smell? Human, have you forgotten how to bathe? Where is your master? I shall personally teach that fellow how to wash a pet."
"...???"
Ivan turned his head at the sound of a tiny, doll-like child chattering away.
He saw a child so small she barely reached his chest. Pointed ears poked out from between strands of brilliantly shining blonde hair.
*Ah, an elf. I heard there was one in the Hero's Party. I see.*
*But... I heard Veolgrin Grikenkos was an elf over 400 years old. How can he look so young?*
*So this is what it means to be a long-lived race.*
Ivan quickly organized his thoughts and nodded.
"Lord Grikenkos?"
"Hm? Yes, that's right! I am Grikenkos! To recognize me, you must be a clever human, for one of your kind!"
The little girl puffed out her chest and declared proudly. *Her mana feels insignificant, but is this what they call a grandmaster who has returned to their prime?*
Ivan was impressed.
The oldest person he knew was Enrique, but even she couldn't take on such a youthful appearance.
Though the concept didn't seem to exist in this world, Ivan, who had once submitted a 5,700-character complaint about a wuxia novel, knew terms like 'rebirth,' 'metamorphosis,' and 'the purity of old age.'
Faced with a character straight out of such a novel, Ivan felt a sense of awe.
"So, human, where is your master? I am quite famished. It seems humans do not know the etiquette for treating esteemed guests, so I must find your elven master."
"What are you... Did the military mess hall not serve you? I can speak with the quartermaster..."
"No, not that fodder. I need 'food,' not feed."
"...Oh."
The image of elves in Ivan's mind began to warp slightly.
"Lord Grikenkos. I'm sorry, but this is the front line. The rations your party received were of a quality our soldiers can only dream of."
"The human tongue is a mysterious thing. The word 'quality' means 'made by elves.' Which of the troughs I received today was an elven meal?"
Now, the elves in his mind were no longer mystical, long-lived fairies.
He had to struggle to keep his expression neutral, thinking that if this was a great mage who had lived for 400 years, he could perhaps forgive a trashed personality.
*Surely not all elves are such lunatics.*
That naive thought of Ivan's was shattered by the man who appeared next.
"Elfihera. What kind of talk is that?"
"Father!!"
As a handsome young man walked over from the distance with his arms open wide, the little girl who had been scolding Ivan moments before scampered over and threw herself into his embrace.
The young man smiled warmly and ruffled the child's hair.
"Fodder? That was the finest banquet humans are capable of. The pitiful humans call such things a 'banquet' and enjoy them, so calling it fodder is a great discourtesy."
"But Father, it wasn't edible!"
"Elfihera. Humans become greatly disheartened when the tribute they present is refused. Have I not told you time and again how important it is to care for the lesser races?"
"Yes, Father..."
It was, Ivan swore, the most astonishing display of parenting he had ever witnessed.
Ivan could only stare blankly at the elven father and daughter, his mouth agape.
"Ah, human. My daughter was rude. My apologies."
He extended a hand with a kind smile. *Is he offering a handshake?* The position of his hand was a bit strange for that. Held out with the back of the hand up, it looked just like...
"I am Veolgrin Grikenkos, Deputy Head of the Privy Council of the Kalion Archipelago. According to human custom, you kiss the back of a noble's hand when you meet them, yes? Hoho, a barbaric but cute tradition. I shall graciously permit it."
*These bastards... No. For the peace and future of the world, wouldn't it be better if they were driven to extinction?*
Ivan seriously considered submitting this proposal to the Great King as he glared coldly at Veolgrin.
That was twelve years ago.
The 18th year of Ivan's reincarnation, his 8th year of military service. A memory from when he had just joined the Royal Guard.
His first impression of elves was the absolute worst. Seeing as it never improved after that, it seemed that was just how elves were.
*
Ivan, snapping out of his reverie, looked at the elf standing before him.
The female elf, who placed a hand demurely on her chest and bowed her head lightly, was literally picturesque.
After listening to Oswald's introduction, she smiled shyly and spoke.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Elfihera Grikenkos."
"...?"
Ivan was thrown into confusion.
*