Words Within the Letter (2)
“Dikailen and Kaigan Luna.”
······Sylvia’s words transmitted memories to me. Faded film reels flickered by in a chain reaction—scenes I had never known, never could have known.
—Son. She was not a fitting match for you.
Dikailen’s voice rippled like waves. The triggered emotions spread wildly, churning through my chest.
It was the torrent that had once ignited Deculein.
“······.”
But I know.
This, too, shall pass.
The history and facts of the past hold no sway over the present me. My self, both Deculein and Kim Woojin, is designed that way.
Sylvia said,
“But you mistook it for the work of the Ilaydes. So you sent that ‘Devil’s Letter’ to my mother.”
Deculein had returned the letter to the Ilaydes to save his fiancée.
But it was futile. Cielia was already ‘dying’ from her hereditary illness.
“Indeed.”
“······You knew everything, so why didn’t you tell Ifrin?”
Kaigan Luna. Deculein’s former assistant and Ifrin’s father. Memories of our time together bloomed fresh and vivid.
Was this the process of assimilating with Deculein?
“Dikailen disapproved of the woman who was to be my wife and ordered Kaigan to send the letter.”
I would accept this memory fully.
But as Kim Woojin, not Deculein.
I would not resurrect that ancient grudge.
“Whether Kaigan knew the letter’s true nature at the time, however, I cannot say.”
“······.”
“You’ve worked hard, Sylvia. In your own way.”
Sylvia clenched her small fist tightly. I let my gaze rest on it, then lifted it to her face.
“You are right in all you say.”
“Hmph.”
Sylvia sneered with an expressionless face. I tucked the ‘Blue Eyes’ into my breast pocket and picked up the cane by the bedside.
This would suffice.
“Rest well.”
I rose. There was nothing more to say. She was a commendable child who had uncovered the truth about her mother on her own.
······However.
“Don’t go.”
An inorganic tone held me back. Utterly dry, yet desperately earnest.
I turned to her.
“It’s not over yet.”
Her eyes welled with moisture. Those glistening golden eyes stared straight at me.
“There’s more to say.”
Each syllable trembled faintly.
Her parched voice, on the verge of breaking, barely held on.
“You have so much to say to me.”
“······.”
“I have so much I need to hear.”
Overwhelmed by emotion, she shook the bedsheet clutched in her fists. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
I simply watched.
“······Speak.”
The child was trembling. Like a bird soaked in water. Her ragged breaths were no different from sobs.
She spat it out through gritted teeth.
“Say it.”
“······.”
The child who lost her mother to Deculein. I could not know the heart of one who faced her enemy so closely.
“I have nothing to say.”
Sylvia’s breath hitched. Her body went cold. The surging emotions halted in an instant.
Silence.
“Yukline offers no excuses. Only facts remain. ······I killed Cielia.”
“······.”
Sylvia released the bedsheet. She glared at me with hollow eyes and spat,
“I’ll kill you.”
An appropriate response. I nodded.
“Try your best. You are worthy of killing me.”
“······Ngh.”
A stifled groan escaped Sylvia’s clenched teeth. The cabin, crafted by Aesthetic Sense, still had its furnace burning warmly.
To the tightly pursed child, I said,
“I will strive not to die by your hand, Sylvia. So that you may live.”
“······What did you—”
I turned from her and opened the cabin door.
Whiiiiiing—!
A fierce blizzard rushed in. The world was buried in snow and wind, but it was of no concern······
* * *
Whiiiiiing······.
A biting blizzard howled fiercely. Ifrin trudged through it. Her makeshift mud hut had collapsed under the snow’s weight.
“······Good thing I learned it.”
The manipulation magic she had applied for following Deculein.
She blocked the blizzard with Magnetic Field and pushed away the snow beneath her feet with Telekinesis as she walked.
Crunch, crunch— crunch, crunch—
“Huh?”
Advancing so efficiently, Ifrin suddenly spotted a cabin.
“?”
A question mark floated above her head.
A cabin in the heart of the blizzard.
She could have passed it by or suspected its nature.
But Ifrin walked toward it as if drawn by some force.
The closer she got, the warmer her body felt. The cabin’s heat.
“This is······.”
Approaching silently, Ifrin pressed her eye to the window. To peer inside.
“!”
She flinched in surprise. A warm furnace blazed in the cabin. Inside were Deculein and Sylvia. Sylvia lay in bed, Deculein sat in a chair beside her.
Their voices leaked through the window crack.
Sylvia spoke first.
This was a conversation she shouldn’t hear. Ifrin tried to back away quickly, but her body wouldn’t move.
As if pinned by magic.
The Devil’s Letter. A legend Ifrin knew well. But why were those two talking about that letter······.
“!”
Ifrin’s eyes widened. She tried to flee the spot. But her body wouldn’t move.
No metaphor or exaggeration. Her body had literally ‘frozen’ solid.
Even as this happened, the conversation continued beyond the glass, forcing Ifrin to hear Deculein and Sylvia’s past.
An incomprehensible force held her legs.
“Why is this······.”
The moment flustered Ifrin struggled to lift her feet.
Familiar names rang in her ears. Ifrin’s body froze stiff, her pupils dilating. She naturally looked toward Deculein.
Kaigan Luna.
Her father had delivered the Devil’s Letter to Deculein’s fiancée.
Ifrin’s mind went blank for a moment. Heat rose along her spine. She couldn’t close her gaping mouth, and the two voices swirled in her ears.
Kaigan Luna······ Devil’s Letter······ Fiancée······.
At that exact moment.
The mysterious restraint lifted.
Ifrin staggered back from the cabin and soon fell on her rear in the snow.
“What······.”
Muttering like a soul lost from her body, she noticed someone approaching.
Crunch— crunch—
Footsteps echoed, a shadow fell over her back. Goosebumps rising, Ifrin looked up.
“You saw.”
It was Sylvia.
Ifrin couldn’t understand. Sylvia had clearly been inside that cabin.
“You······ how?”
“Stupid Ifrin.”
A familiar phrase. She whispered it and waved her hand at the cabin. The scene scattered like windblown mist, vanishing into emptiness.
“······.”
It had been Sylvia’s magic.
To the dazed Ifrin, Sylvia said weakly,
“An hour ago. All of it real, no fakes.”
“······.”
“Get up, idiot.”
At those words, Ifrin slowly rose. Her legs had no strength. It was hard to stand on the slippery snow.
“······Why?”
Ifrin asked blankly. Sylvia looked at her—at the pooled tears in those wide eyes, at her body trembling like bare branches.
“Why did you show me?”
Sylvia asked in return. Ifrin nodded hesitantly.
“Of course. Obviously.”
Then a large snowflake landed on Ifrin’s face. At the ridiculous sight, Sylvia looked up at the sky.
The world was blanketed in white.
Not just because of the snow. Or perhaps because of it.
Tears or snowflakes—either way.
Sylvia looked back at Ifrin.
“I think I’m jealous of you.”
“······What?”
Ifrin steadied her pounding heart. Maintain composure as a mage. Act rationally if possible. Exclude confusion. A mage doesn’t waver······.
“Sylvia, you really— the Professor—”
“Yes.”
Sylvia cut her off. And confessed with even blunter words.
“I love him.”
Ifrin could no longer stay composed. She had just heard Deculein and Sylvia’s conversation—Deculein had clearly said he killed Sylvia’s mother······.
“Wha buh mum······.”
Stammering incoherently. The raging blizzard suddenly stopped. The sky cleared, silence settled.
Sylvia continued softly.
“And I hate him. More than anyone in this world.”
Ifrin looked into Sylvia’s eyes. She couldn’t even fathom the emotions, the heart contained there.
“The only one who can hold my feelings, who should hold them, is that Professor.”
Sylvia’s emotionless voice shook for the first time. No—she had been tearful from the start.
“I’m going to kill that Professor.”
“······.”
Ifrin, who had been sitting on the ground, stood. And shook her head. She wouldn’t let that happen.
Neither Deculein’s death nor Sylvia becoming a murderer.
“Yes.”
Sylvia nodded as if she understood.
In that moment, Ifrin vaguely, faintly grasped her intent.
“Maybe I even hope you’ll stop me.”
From the cloudless sky, slightly clear sunlight poured down. Shattered rays scattered like fragments.
Shwaaaaa······.
A sudden wind tousled Ifrin’s hair. She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them quietly.
“Sylvia?”
No answer to her call. Ifrin looked around, but Sylvia had already vanished. Like an illusion or mirage.
“······Ah.”
And then belated aftershocks flooded Ifrin’s heart.
“What am I supposed to do nowwww······.”
Thud— She collapsed to the ground.
* * *
Ifrin arrived at the seminar hall. Two hundred mages were drying their snow-soaked robes, chatting idly.
“······.”
But Ifrin’s mind still swirled with that conversation.
Was it her father’s mistake, or a sin?
But Ifrin’s reason focused more on the ‘justification.’
The reason Deculein had no choice but to hate her father.
Mistake or sin······.
“I assume everyone enjoyed the blizzard. Ah, from now on, we’ll keep it short. Got it?”
Yeriel’s appearance on the podium cut through the endless anguish and contemplation. Ifrin looked up at her.
She spoke as if the blizzard were Yukline’s event.
“Alright, let’s kick off the Yukline magic seminar proper. First, meet the mentors! Here we go~”
The hall’s curtains parted. Beyond them stood the seminar mentors. Ifrin scanned them: Roserio, Longdalp, Ruina, Ihelm, and······ Deculein.
Deculein.
“All eight series covered nicely, right? Pick one mentor and follow their schedule.”
Eight, one per main series. Ifrin majored in destruction, support, manipulation, and synthesis—four series—but she didn’t need to ask whom to choose.
“Alright~ Choices, everyone!”
*
······The two hundred mages divided into the eight series. But my manipulation group had only four.
There had been twenty manipulation majors.
They must have jumped to other series.
I was somewhat displeased, but the quality ones had gathered.
“You chose manipulation.”
“······Yes. Professor.”
First, my direct disciple, Ifrin.
“Haha. Of course— no. Here, you’re my senior. Ahem. Lumiere Kreto. I’ve always admired Professor Deculein’s footsteps.”
Next, Sophien’s brother, Prince Kreto of the imperial family.
“Me too me too~ I’ve been waiting for this day~ To meet the Professor again~~”
And Maho from the Yuren Duchy, whom I hadn’t seen in a while.
Last······.
“······Tch.”
‘Reilly’ from the Red Garnet Adventurers.
Julie’s cousin had been glaring at me with dissatisfaction since earlier. The reason? I knew it well.
Because she was Julie’s cousin.
“······Hey.”
I knew, but her attitude grated.
To Reilly, snorting like a train,
“Eyes down. You’re here by invitation.”
“······Yes sir~ Yessir~ Yessir~”
Reilly bowed grudgingly. I beckoned to the four.
“Follow me. The first schedule is ‘training.’”
The place I led them to was a cylindrical mana gravity machine.
Practicing mana under gravity ten times normal. An extreme training tool made using this lake island’s natural mana.
“Reilly. You first.”
I pointed to her first.
Not because she was the rudest of the four, but because her magical prowess shone brightest to the Naked Eye······.