Outing. (3)
Imperial Palace, Hall of Learning.
Sophien surveyed the scattered documents on her desk. All of them were the 'Deculein File' provided by the Intelligence Agency.
"The Empire's Intelligence Agency is truly remarkable..."
Ahan marveled, but Sophien was indifferent.
"'Tis but the basic duty of the Agency. To monitor and investigate the Empire's nobles. To them, Deculein is a figure on par with Zeit."
"Ah, I see. So these must be investigations conducted long ago?"
"Indeed."
"By the way, I hear the Professor is bringing a gift today. Have you heard?"
"I have..."
Sophien took a puff from her pipe. Crackle—the tobacco ignited. She exhaled puffs of smoke, then coughed dryly.
"...Ahem."
It was her own attempt to understand her father.
"Why did the late Emperor enjoy such things?"
He who sired her was praised—even by his subjects—as a wise ruler who pursued harmony between divine right and governance.
Yet his hobbies—fishing, smoking, hunting—held no appeal for her.
Was it the complacency from centuries of regressions, or simply that she could not emulate even his pastimes?
"It would be far more enjoyable shared with someone."
Sophien scoffed at Ahan's words.
"Dost thou suggest I tolerate some fool smoking in my presence?"
"Ah... no, not that. But hunting or fishing might—"
"Enough. One may know a hundred streams, yet the human heart remains inscrutable. Even if 'tis my father's."
She set down the pipe and opened Deculein's file.
SUBJECT:Deculein von Grahan Yukline
[...From childhood, hailed as a prodigy, yet his growth plateaued over time. On the verge of mediocrity, he began to distinguish himself through theory.]
KEYWORDS:Prodigy. Talent Limit. Tower Admission. Theoretical Distinction.
[Appointed to professorship based on that theory. However, claims abound that Deculein's papers were plagiarized ideas from others. Internal reports surfaced several times, but all were dismissed.]
KEYWORDS:Professorship. Paper Plagiarism. Internal Reports.
[Secretly betrothed lover died. Suspected 'Devil's Letter.' Thereafter, visits her grave annually on the anniversary.]
KEYWORDS:Lover's Death. Anniversary.
[Re-engaged to Phairden's youngest daughter. Yet due to prior loss, shows obsessive tendencies toward fiancée.]
Sophien's gaze lingered briefly on that passage.
Events ill-suited to Deculein, yet undoubtedly formative to the man he is now.
Just as she moved to turn the page—
Knock knock—
The knock signaling lesson time.
Ahan rose swiftly to open the door, while Sophien tucked the file into a drawer.
"You've arrived, Professor."
Deculein stood beyond the threshold. Facing him after so long, his face was as serene and composed as ever.
For some reason, it felt welcoming.
Sophien said,
"Sit."
"Yes."
Deculein approached and sat. His attire and etiquette were unchanged.
Sophien asked bluntly,
"Thou went to Rohakan's vineyard."
Deculein placed a blank sheet on the desk as he replied.
"Yes."
"Dost thou presume I shall not rebuke thee for it?"
"No."
"Then speak. What didst thou discuss with that wretch ere I slew him?"
No response. Only the clatter of pens and mana stones on the desk.
Irritated by the noise, Sophien snapped,
"I see thy former fiancée's anniversary approaches soon."
"..."
Deculein lifted his eyes to her. Sophien met his gaze unflinchingly.
"Your Majesty."
The air chilled in an instant.
A demeanor he had never shown before.
"This matter bears no relation to the lesson."
"..."
Even he had a reverse scale.
Sophien swallowed a rising laugh.
"Insolent... Very well, what of Rohakan?"
"That too strays from the subject."
"Hah."
A smile escaped her lips.
Deculein, ever cold, bristled with unusual thorns today. Far from insolent, he seemed adorably porcupine-like.
"Thy novelty earns pardon. But thou canst not hide it forever."
Propping her chin on her hand, she peered intently at him.
Searching for traces in his expression.
"Yes."
Deculein nodded calmly.
"By tradition, Your Majesty's lessons occur once yearly. I intend to uphold that, yet sundry events and Your Majesty's indolence have delayed many sessions."
"Not indolence, but grave duties."
"Should Your Majesty attend the remaining lessons diligently and clear the backlog, then."
He paused, placing a long rod on the desk. Wrapped in black cloth, its nature unknown.
"I shall answer all Your Majesty asks."
"..."
Sophien eyed Deculein and the rod alternately with narrowed gaze, then smirked and nodded.
"Very well. What is this?"
"A tool for today's lesson."
"Lesson."
"Indeed."
Deculein unwrapped the cloth.
Swish—the revealed object was...
"A fishing rod?"
Sophien's brow furrowed.
* * *
We are fishing.
At the lake reserved for angling, personally prepared by the late Emperor Krevaim. Seated on tiny chairs by its river-wide expanse, we gaze vacantly at the water where the line dips.
"...This is the lesson?"
About fifteen minutes passed.
Sophien asked in disbelief.
"Yes. Fishing and magic share much. Especially clearing the mind and maintaining stillness. Waiting patiently without haste."
"..."
"Your Majesty's rune language stagnates. 'Tis not a matter of talent or skill."
I taught Sophien all I knew of rune language. Surely, that knowledge is fully shared.
With the 'hardware' perfectly assembled, next comes the 'software' to utilize it.
"Thus, I shall teach Your Majesty 'Mind-Clear Water.' The virtue of tranquility."
"..."
Thud—
Sophien silently set down her rod and rose, brushing her clothes.
As she turned to leave, I said one thing.
"Have we never fished together?"
Sophien halted. She turned back.
Sensing the weight, she looked down at me with wide eyes.
"...What dost thou mean?"
A wind swept in.
Ripples stirred the calm lake; the rod trembled.
"Merely asking."
"Thy phrasing is strangely convoluted for a mere question."
"..."
"Nay, 'tis a question thou needst not ask. Thou..."
Sophien's words cut off.
Gazing at the lake, I said,
"Your Majesty. In Rohakan's vineyard, I glimpsed fragments of memory. Memories not mine—within them, I was with Your Majesty."
"..."
"Now, I seek to reclaim them."
Another worldline shown by Rohakan's vineyard.
Yet unless I recall it myself, it holds no value.
Thus, this lesson serves Sophien—and me.
"For that, I require Your Majesty's aid."
Sophien said nothing. No sound of held breath for a time. I looked up at her.
Her bitten lip trembled. In her crimson eyes, I reflected.
Rare agitation.
Nay, a side of Sophien I had never seen.
"I shall reclaim those memories."
"..."
Sophien lowered her gaze—not imperial, but subdued. She sat quietly.
"...Must I simply wait for a bite?"
"Yes. Let us set the quota at thirty-three."
Sophien gripped her rod again. I eyed it.
That was Murkan's Ancient Staff.
Sophien, keener in mana sense than any on this continent, failed to detect it—for a reason.
The moment it left Rohakan's hand, it sealed itself.
"That rod is my gift to you."
Now mere wood, I had shaped it into a rod via refinement.
The lesson's second purpose.
To foster unconscious resonance between the staff and Sophien, guiding her to become its third master.
"...Methinks this rod hides some mechanism—"
Then, the rod jerked sharply. A fish had taken the bait.
"The beast!"
Sophien yanked hastily, but the lakeside fish was cunning. It used her pull to snap bait and line.
"!"
Her chair tipped back.
Creeeak——
I steadied her as it nearly toppled.
"...Eh."
My arm extended, embracing shoulder and chair.
Fortunate my reach was long.
"..."
Sophien stared wordlessly. Her crimson eyes took on an innocent hue.
First time facing the Emperor's eyes so closely.
I asked,
"Are you alright?"
Her eyes narrowed belatedly.
"...Where hath the mage sold his magic to use his body thus?"
"Dare I cast magic upon Your Majesty?"
"Tch. Release me."
Sophien shoved me away, righting herself. Gripping the rod, she glared at the water.
"Damnable fish. I've grasped how to catch it. My hands remember. It shan't happen twice."
Once bitten, twice shy. She masters the whole from one trial.
Sophien is such a one.
"Yes."
I nodded, but noted something odd.
Sophien's hand on the rod.
"..."
It trembled faintly. Anxiously fiddling with thumb and forefinger.
"What dost thou stare at?"
Of course, it steadied swiftly.
Sophien glared at my gaze, leaning back leisurely. A clear breeze blew; her crimson hair flowed like sunset drapes.
I said,
"Nothing. Let us resume the lesson."
* * *
Afternoon, lesson ended. Sophien lay in her chambers, staring at the ceiling.
"..."
Silently recalling the lesson.
Deculein's claim that fishing was the lesson.
Her scornful departure, baited by 'pre-regression memories.'
His vow to reclaim them.
And...
"...Were his eyes ever so clear?"
Deculein's blue eyes, met too closely.
Crystalline brilliance, tinged with inexplicable sorrow.
They had stared, noses nearly touching.
Even now, with him gone, the scene burned vivid.
"Hm."
Sophien placed a hand on her heart.
Steady as ever. Pulse low, as if near death.
—Future thee shall come to love Deculein.
Rohakan's words surfaced abruptly.
His assured prophecy of her future.
"...Peculiar."
Without them, such thoughts would never arise. Nor would she ponder this feeling.
Yet because he spoke, she now questioned her heart.
"That wretch..."
The more she doubted loving Deculein, the more ensnared she felt.
As if she truly would, in some future.
"Perhaps."
Rohakan, that black-water fiend, aimed for this...
"Your Majesty."
Ahan's voice called. Sophien turned her head.
"The knights you summoned arrive one by one."
Candidates for Imperial Guardian Knight, personally selected by Sophien.
Of course, she hadn't told them as much; they believed it mere a dinner.
"What shall we do?"
Among them was Julie.
The woman Deculein cherished utterly.
Sophien twisted her lips.
"Tell them to rest from travel. I shall meet them one by one from tomorrow."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Ahan withdrew without turning, exiting the chamber.
Sophien gazed at the ceiling again, lost in thought.
A novel quandary, utterly unrelated to imperial virtues like politics or rule—thoughts she had never pondered in her lifetime—now filled her mind...
* * *
...Meanwhile, as stars rose over the capital's evening sky.
At the Empire University's 'Loteo Hall,' entrance briefings were in full swing.
[Business Administration], [Medicine], [Magic Tower], and more... Various departments held their admissions info sessions here.
"Wow! I wanna hear about Business and Medicine too, for real~"
Maho's eyes sparkled as she looked around; Charlotte sighed.
That endless curiosity invited danger anytime.
"It'll be fine~ We're escorting!"
Then, a child's reassuring words.
Lia and Leo.
"...Alright."
Charlotte had hired these two young adventurers—and Dozmu—as guards.
"Red Garnet's trustworthy enough."
Younger than expected, but from Red Garnet Adventure Team—skill assured.
"From the north, were you?"
"Yes. From Mieolji."
Lia answered.
"...Mieolji? Whatever for in that perilous place?"
"Um... work? Lots of folks hire adventurers there."
"..."
Charlotte pondered briefly, then nodded.
"Makes sense. Rumors swirl of the Empire's Mieolji expedition soon."
"Sharlsharl~ Come here~ Magic Tower briefing's starting~"
"Yes, coming."
Maho called just then. Charlotte, Leo, and Lia followed her.
Magic Tower Admissions Briefing — Professor Deculein (Chief)
The name blazoned huge on the vast hall's podium: Chief Professor Deculein.
"Sharl~ It's Professor Deculein~ Professor~"
"Yes, I know."
"Sit quick~"
Leo and Lia tensed; Maho beamed, taking her seat.
—Ahem. The admissions briefing will begin shortly. Please take your seats.
The announcer's low voice. Lights dimmed.
In the heavy atmosphere like a classical concert, Deculein appeared.
Step—step—
Approaching with perfect stride, he swept his gaze over the aspiring mages filling the hall and spoke.
—Greetings. I am Deculein of House Yukline, Chief Professor of the Imperial University Magic Tower and overseer of the Tower Entrance Exam.
Maho watched his explanation with shining eyes.
—You gathered here have all claimed top marks from academies across nations.
Leo and Lia perked their ears, scanning for assassins or threats.
—Yet that alone falls short of the Tower's ideal talent. In this exam, I shall evaluate not just theory and penmanship, but practical magic and adaptability. Therefore...
His voice paused briefly.
His brow furrowed slightly at something.
"...Ah."
Lia, the target of his gaze, flinched.
Deculein tch—ed softly and continued.
—Thus, a more proactive and dynamic exam awaits you.
Then—
Boom—!
A massive thud echoed through the hall. Deculein halted; all blinked around in confusion.
"...Huh? What, what is it?"
Most were baffled, but keen-sensed Lia felt it clearly.
She sprang up and dashed to the exit.
Gripping the handle, she flung the door open.
Stepping out, her foot met no ground. She yanked it back before it plunged.
"Eek!"
Entering, it was the university's Loteo Hall briefing room.
Now, beyond the door—void.
Nay, sky.
Nay, darkness.
Nay, perhaps a barrier.
"Wha... what is this?!"
In any case.
The briefing room seemed severed from the university—adrift, shrouded in darkness.
"...Th... this no..."
"What the—?"
"Why's the outside gone?"
Awe-struck examinees rose, clustering by the door, murmuring at the sight.
—Silence.
Deculein's single word calmed them.
—A sudden magical terror attack. Sit calmly and think rationally first.
At 'magical terror' yet 'stay calm,' the hall plunged into panic.