Each One's Future (1)
Not far from the capital's urban sprawl lay a golden plot of land cradling a lake, streams, and even the hills behind it.
The Yukline estate was vast.
Vast beyond reason. With land prices in the capital skyrocketing lately, it was no longer a joke to say that selling just the grounds could fund a mid-sized territory for a year.
Even Julie, who prided herself on buying her own three-story home near the capital, seemed to find her days at the Yukline mansion quite enjoyable.
It made sense. Morning jogs wrapped up after a few laps around the back hills, sword training had all the space needed on the expansive grounds without a worry in the world, and the three daily meals rivaled those of a three-star restaurant.
Originally, Deculein had imposed strict standards on the mansion's sprawling grounds, but as long as things stayed tidy, I didn't care what the servants did—so I approved most of the "import documents" they cautiously presented.
The servants, with their keen ears for gossip, heard tales of exotic pottery and dishware from distant lands, premium coffee beans and delicacies, flower seeds, carpets, and more. They imported it all under the Yukline name.
Thanks to them, the gardens and flower beds bloomed with the world's most beautiful flora, the mansion's interiors swelled with diverse scents and atmospheres, and the clear lake and streams now featured perfect spots for a summer getaway.
Julie especially loved the lake, so whenever she seemed to vanish, she'd invariably be lying on that grassy bank. With her new pet, Blackie, by her side.
······And so, this place enveloped people in luxurious comfort and unburdensome abundance.
A haven where even brief visitors showered it with praise.
A paradise as serene as a lily pond.
The Yukline mansion itself.
"In physical combat, foundational stamina is paramount."
Julie declared on the mansion's training field. She wasn't in light armor for once in ages.
Gray gym clothes.
"So······ Professor? Why the long face?"
Julie tilted her head. I shrugged.
"It's been ages since I last saw you out of armor, and that's all you've got?"
"Ah~ I see."
Accepting my complaint at face value, Julie tugged at her outfit.
"I've worn this since my knight order days. Fine material—Phrullen weave. It'll last another twenty years easy."
"I see."
"Yes. As I said, foundational stamina is key in physical combat."
Back to business in no time.
Julie gripped her wooden sword.
"First, a demonstration. The simplest 'spin move.'"
She swung—whoosh!—twice.
The first carved a diagonal across the front, the second spun back to slash behind. The link was near-simultaneous. For a split second, it looked like there were two of her.
"Spin move. Also called 'spin mooov.'"
"Spin move."
"Spin moooov."
"······Spin move."
"Hm. In a knight's world, it's basic, but the strain on waist and knees is immense. Without solid stamina and muscle, injury risk skyrockets."
Julie handed me the wooden sword. I gripped it and mimicked the motion.
Whoosh!—whoosh!!
To me, it felt no different.
"?"
A question mark flickered in Julie's eyes. She blinked it away a couple times, then spoke.
"Try once more."
Whoosh!—whoosh!!
I repeated it exactly.
"?"
Second question mark. Julie glanced at her curriculum script under the tree shade.
"It looks good at a glance, but······ one last time."
I performed the spin moooov yet again.
"?"
As the third question mark dawned in her eyes, I said,
"Admit it. I can copy it."
"······You can copy it, but injury risk remains high."
"I won't get hurt."
"You may think so, but the risk is high."
"Parrot much?"
"That's why foundational stamina is essential."
Sweat beaded on Julie's forehead as she spoke. She'd probably pegged me as a typical frail mage and planned to start from basics.
"Today, we run first. Ready?"
"Yes."
"Right. Here we go!"
Julie dashed off, and I followed.
One-two—one-two—
Her pace was metronomic.
I kept two or three strides behind.
One-two—one-two—
One-two—one-two—
Glancing back mid-stride, Julie said,
"You're keeping up well."
"Naturally."
"Yes. Keep it up!"
The run continued.
I had no idea how my stamina stacked against a knight's. But Iron Man was a high-grade trait, and I hadn't neglected strength training, so it should be fine.
"All good?"
Julie called back.
"Yes."
"Hmm."
She nodded approvingly.
Basics training proceeded thus.
"Picking up the pace a bit!"
"Fine."
Surprised at how well I kept up, Julie seemed intent on crushing my spirit and accelerated.
One-two-one-two—one-two-one-two—
One-two-one-two—one-two-one-two—
Ten laps in the blink of an eye.
"······Professor. Still good?"
"Yes."
"O······."
Julie looked stunned at my unflagging form.
My Iron Man baseline stamina felt vastly improved. Probably thanks to Mana Quality hitting 4th grade.
"Shall we stop?"
"No. I'm fine."
"······Yes."
The run dragged on.
Speeds nearing a full sprint, laps blurring into uncountable.
"······."
Suddenly, I eyed Julie's profile. Sweat poured off her. She looked pained.
Belated realization hit.
With heart damage, the biggest issue was baseline stamina.
Especially cardiopulmonary endurance.
I halted.
"Enough. You're struggling now."
"······Am I?"
Julie smiled bitterly. Her pallor suggested she knew her limits too.
"Professor, your basics are solid. Been training on the side?"
I regarded her silently.
Suddenly, sweat-drenched, she looked beautiful.
"······Julie. You're the knight here."
"Yes. I am."
She tilted her head, as if wondering why state the obvious. I chuckled softly.
"I wanted to be a man worthy of you. So I trained hard."
"······."
Julie fell silent. Her hair frizzed up, ears flushing red.
Adorable reaction.
"Kidding. It was to survive."
"······Y-yes. Of course."
It really had been for survival, but Julie's cheeks were already pink.
"Let's eat."
"Yes······."
I headed to the dining hall first; Julie trailed hesitantly.
Throughout the meal, she kept stealing glances at me.
Dessert brought Luwak coffee by a servant. Julie's eyes sparkled at the premium beans.
"Thank you~"
Sipping it cherishingly, I hid a smile watching her.
"Julie. Time to prep. Imperial Palace lesson today."
"Yes. Understood."
Back to escort duty.
Julie's face hardened like a lion's.
······The imperial throne room.
'Emperor-presided council'—an irritating tradition.
Sophien sat enthroned, gazing down at her ministers. Her hands brimmed with their petitions.
"Your Majesty, we fear the issues Marik's opening will cause. It would be wise to reverse course now."
"Altiegue is most timely; we should focus solely on them for now."
"Suppressing Altiegue will surely spark resistance, and if chaos erupts in Marik then, the empire will face threats from all sides······."
Sophien's head throbbed. She loathed hearing these wretched fools. So tedious she contemplated suicide on the spot.
"Marik's opening is decided. No more."
""No, Your Majesty!""
The chorus made veins bulge on her forehead.
The late emperor always said······ never ignore petitions······ adventurers ransacking Marik recklessly will summon demons······ and so on.
They spewed like madmen, till Kairon approached and whispered,
—Your Majesty. Deculein has arrived.
Sophien grinned instantly.
"Done! Lesson time. Begone!"
"No, Your Majesty! Nothing's decided yet—"
"Rune lessons. Do you not know what I'm learning from Deculein?"
Rune Language.
Sophien's invincible trump card.
No minister dared interrupt rune study days.
"Wasting my precious lesson time? Can you bear it?"
"······."
"Runes. Runes. Don't you know runes?"
Finally, the ministers clammed up like they'd swallowed honey. Sophien rose satisfied.
"I'm off. Council's adjourned."
······.
"You've come."
Imperial Palace, hall of learning.
The emperor welcomed today's Deculein with a smile, warmer than usual.
"Yes."
"Today's council was utter shit. Traditional emperor-presided affair—no skipping. Those moronic ministers pried into everything, nitpicking my every word. Revolting."
"I see. Let's begin. Today's rune is טִיסָה."
"······."
Deculein dove straight in upon sitting. The emperor's eyes sharpened like axes.
"Repeat after me. טִיסָה."
"Beh."
"Not 'beh.' טִיסָה."
"······."
Sophien propped her chin. Then quietly watched him.
A sigh slipped through her teeth, proclaiming her boredom.
"טִיסָה."
"······But Deculein. You never question my policies."
"טִיסָה."
"You just drone on about those damned runes."
Tormented by ministers, her study mood neared zero.
Deculein noticed and shifted focus to her words.
"The ministers were dying to know why open Marik. They'll oppose regardless, yet cheer Altiegue suppression as its extension······."
Pausing, Sophien eyed him languidly.
"Deculein. Your thoughts on my policies? Why do they oppose Marik?"
"······."
Why the empire's ministers opposed Marik's opening—despite it already being open, why they desperately tried to shut it.
Deculein answered without hesitation.
Instantly.
"Mana stone supply is already ample, so why risk opening Marik? That's their angle. It holds some merit."
Sophien's face hardened. She soon smirked.
"Hmph. You're no different."
Leaning back, openly disappointed—but Deculein's words continued.
Slowly.
"Yet odd. Why is supply so ample? Mines are finite; centuries of excavation should have depleted them."
Sophien's brow sharpened anew.
"Mines that should be exhausted by math keep yielding stones. Mining guilds claim 'advances in technique.'"
"······."
Those words from Deculein.
She subtly straightened.
"Guilds set prices among themselves. Not just prices—"
"Supply too. Rophalasia, Vermonia, Crummakto. Those three dominate. Even Father kept smooth ties with them."
Deculein nodded. Sophien, who'd lounged arrogantly, leaned toward him.
"Emperors bowing to mere guilds. Laughable."
Sophien's grasp of the continent's underbelly was simple.
Over 70% of mana stones circulating from giant guilds came from the Altar, in truth.
Mana mines existed even in demon-infested Mieolji, untouched for centuries.
Sophien fixed on Deculein's lips.
She craved his next words.
"Yes. But Marik's opening unleashes countless stones. Marik stones bypass guild networks—solely imperial authority."
"Those shitheads are panicking beyond panic. Marik stones are fatal to them. Bribe-fed ministers yap for that reason."
A smile bloomed on Sophien's face.
Deculein returned it.
"Precisely. Thus, Marik strengthens Your Majesty's power. And if Altiegue lurk among guild heads—"
"Yes. Some are. I know. Crushing Altiegue will draw out the Altar somewhere."
"The empire has more internal foes than external."
"Hence, empire."
Their exchange flowed as if from one mind.
For Sophien, unprecedented rapport—but the core lay ahead.
Without grasping it, Deculein couldn't meet her hopes.
"Knowing that, Your Majesty declared to me: conquer external Mieolji, not internals."
The emperor knew of inner enemies yet aimed at outer Mieolji. Crushing Altiegue to do so.
The logic pierced her heart.
Sophien thrilled childishly for the first time in ages. Unable to wait, she spoke first.
"Yes. Mana stones are just the start. Once Marik grinds the Altar down, I'll declare Mieolji expedition myself."
"Mieolji being Altar's base, they'll feel threatened."
"Threatened vermin have obvious moves."
"Raid the empire, seemingly emptied by expedition."
"—Precisely then."
Sophien met Deculein's eyes.
Straight pupils perfectly grasping her intent. Those blue eyes, gemlike beautiful.
"You'll annihilate them."
"I will annihilate them."
Words spat near-simultaneously.
The emperor's smile already tugged her lips.
For boredom incarnate Sophien, such insight was natural.
No effort expended. Just known, like breathing.
Her wisdom was that sort.
This professor Deculein likely the same.
"Right. But I told you of Mieolji conquest from the start. Why tell no one?"
"Speaking would make me Your Majesty's foe. Though You'd prefer I blabbed."
"······Oh ho. You saw that far."
Deculein nodded.
Of course—all part of the 'story line.'
"Ahaha."
Sophien habitually tested her circle. Only Kairon and today's Deculein passed unscathed.
"Then, I ask: Your Majesty's goal? Mere imperial strengthening and Altar annihilation?"
"······."
The emperor's smile faded fast.
Joy at his understanding lasted under five minutes.
"I don't know."
Sophien leaned back again.
Her utter languor seemed almost sad.
"I don't know either."
Low mutter.
His response, like an echo.
"Then let's find it together."
"······?"
Ears doubted for a moment.
······Together?
No minister, not even Kairon, dared say that.
"······."
Sophien silently regarded Deculein.
Oddly, he brimmed with 'duty.'
Her boredom was his burden—and the world's—but the oblivious emperor puzzled.
"Lessons to find that goal."
"······."
The emperor held silent. Deculein didn't retreat.
At length, Sophien waved him off.
"Enough. Go. Even your handsome face tires now. Lasts longer than most, but next time, disguise yourself."
"Class isn't over. Repeat: טִיסָה."
"······What?"
"טִיסָה."
Deculein persisted; the emperor shook her head and relented.
—טִיסָה.
The rune manifested.
Its meaning: 'flight.'
The space hummed upward; confirming resonance, Deculein rose.
"Well done."
"Yes. Go."
······.
Post-lesson, magic tutor Deculein gone from the hall of learning.
Lounging on the hard floor, Sophien muttered at the ceiling.
"Not a single lie."
Unconscious fibs.
Sugarcoated flattery.
Habitual denial or assent.
Anyone does it sometime.
"Knows everything too. Turn an encyclopedia human, you'd get him."
Sophien found Deculein's self-assurance intriguing.
He knew his thoughts, plans, proofs—all.
From their first meeting, when she voiced 'conquering Mieolji,' he'd pierced her heart whole.
"That arrogant nonsense about finding my goal······ Hey, Kairon. You heard."
Eyes from ceiling slanted to Kairon.
He smiled.
"Don't nitpick."
"What is it, Your Majesty."
"What."
"When's the wedding."
"······Kairon. Craving execution?"
Sophien glared at her knight. Rare fury pierced her languor.
"If provoking me, success. Commendable. Add to your duties."
"Not that. Ministers worry."
"Morons."
Sophien was early twenties. Prime marriage age. Her lived years double, but body-wise, yes.
"No man could handle me."
"······."
Kairon silent.
"What."
"······."
He eyed the door. Closed.
Sophien grasped instantly.
"Deculein?"
"······."
"Madman. No hobby stealing others'."
"I said nothing."
"Politics improved, Kairon. For a knight."
Kairon shrugged.
"You're annoying. Out."
"Yes."
Kairon exited promptly.
Alone, Sophien pondered.
"Deculein."
He viewed the world through her eyes.
His personality made sense. World teemed with idiots; dealing with fools warps anyone.
"Good not alone."
Sophien smirked.
Found one 'kindred' at least.
Long suspected, confirmed today. Enough joy for a while.
That sufficed for now.
"Pfft. Arrogant bastard. Finding my goal together? Lessons for that?"
Sophien chuckled recalling his boldness.
An hour later, bored.
······An hour.
Long for her.
Meanwhile, Ifrin prepped for travel.
"Towel, toothbrush, soap, shampoo, emergency rations, review book, and······."
The most vital one.
Her eyes widened at it.
"Roahawk chunks!"
Four pieces from Julie's father, insisting she pass. Her dearest rations now.
Plan: roast one each hungriest, saddest exam moment.
"Phew······ Time to go."
Backpack on, Ifrin deep-breathed and exited the dorm.
First, administration office to mail her patron. Then strolled campus.
Monsoon season; weather meh.
"When's he coming······."
Ifrin waited under the clocktower plaza. Their rendezvous.
Today, a friend headed to Floating Island with her.
"Ifrin~ Over here~"
A soft voice called. Head maid Rete. Honking from driver's seat.
"Coming~"
Ifrin beamed, hopped in back. Sylvia beside her looked grumpy but didn't block boarding.
"Sylvia, let's do great together. I aim for stage three too."
"······Insolent Ifrin."
"Hehe."
Without that line, the day felt unreal.
Ifrin grinned; Sylvia recoiled like at a perv, then clung to the window.
"Off we go~"
"Yup!"
They departed for Floating Island.
Vrooom—
Gazing at passing scenery, Ifrin pondered her future.
What she'd do under Deculein. Her father's past and death.
Now the real deal began.
Ifrin clenched her fist.
"······."
Conversely, Sylvia thought solely of Deculein. Chest ached each time, but she couldn't stop.
Thus, her heart—perhaps per Gilteon's scheme—gained kindling.
Kindling too vast and dry to burn out, even post-archmage.
"Huh? That uncle over there?"
Ifrin pointed. Sylvia looked.
The married man from before, Kariksel, stood roadside. Spotting them, he beamed and approached.
—Oh! Ifrin, Sylvia! Perfect timing~ Mind a ride?~
Rete eyed Sylvia. She sighed—approval.
Exam hall bound anyway. No need to be rude.