Chapter 335
Chapter 335
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 335
Chapter Title: Side Story 19. Blue Spring to You (1)
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“Ah.”
Naviroje opened her eyes.
Morning sunlight filtered through the window, which had no curtains drawn.
Above her stretched a high ceiling, unusual for a house where she lived alone.
'My body feels so light today.'
Some days were refreshingly clear like this.
Even after intense training late into the night before, she strangely didn't feel fatigued at all.
She stretched languidly and stepped out of the room.
There was no bed, just a futon spread on the floor.
After folding the bedding and exiting, the living room came into view, cluttered with all sorts of odds and ends.
'I really should set aside a day to clean all this up.'
Naviroje smacked her lips.
It was a stark contrast to her tidy bedroom.
Yearbooks, bouquets enchanted with unfading magic, frilly dresses that ignored the recipient's taste entirely, sparkling accessories, and more.
It would be easy to toss them all out, but she couldn't.
Every bit of the proliferating clutter had been gifts from her students over the years.
As she scratched her belly and surveyed the mess, Naviroje's gaze stopped on one spot.
A large, flashy pair of underwear hung over a chair, like some tropical fruit.
'I really should have smacked her one back then.'
Naviroje chuckled.
This was none other than a graduation gift from Adeshan.
She'd handed over a box, saying an instructor like her needed to find a partner before it was too late, and inside was this lurid set, top and bottom.
Its design was so provocative it screamed "final battle gear."
She still remembered the conversation vividly.
- "You're out of your mind. You expect me to wear something like this?"
- "Come on, this is all the rage these days. Not sure if I should say this, but the effects are great too. Just last night with Ronan..."
- "Stop. I don't want to know."
Of course, she'd never worn it.
For one, she had zero interest in finding a partner, and besides, the size was all wrong.
Not smaller, but bigger.
It had flustered her, something she'd never experienced before.
And that was over ten years ago already.
Naviroje's gaze shifted again.
'I've received all sorts of things, haven't I.'
The existing sofa and table were buried out of sight.
The only thing on display was a photo of Ronan's crew hanging on the wall.
A snapshot from before they headed to the Temple of the Sword, preserving her happiest time in life.
'When was this even taken?'
Naviroje smiled.
It felt like a chunk of youth carved out whole.
The location was Gallerion Main Hall at Imperial Phileon Academy.
More precisely, the First Training Grounds there.
In the photo, a still-boyish Ronan and Schlieffen had their arms around each other.
Having just finished sparring, they were covered head to toe in dirt.
Behind them stood Adeshan, who was an assistant instructor at the time, and Naviroje herself.
Adeshan clutched water canteens in both hands, while Naviroje stood with arms crossed, looking down at her two pupils.
With eyes full of warm satisfaction, like gazing at cherished treasures.
'I was so envious.'
It was understandable.
Not just because they were unprecedented geniuses in imperial history.
Naviroje liked students who made the most of their youth.
Whether studying, falling in love, or brawling, she admired those who invested their most radiant years in what they desired.
In that sense, Ronan and Schlieffen epitomized the coolest way to spend one's youth.
It was perhaps vicarious fulfillment for her.
Naviroje had burned her entire youth on blood-soaked battlefields.
A life where blood and death, survival of the fittest, and "life is currency" were harsh commonplaces.
She had no memories of laughing with friends, studying together, or traveling as a group.
That was why she'd become an educator.
To see her disciples live a happy, meaningful youth unlike her own.
To guide those who couldn't.
Though she never showed it, she was more satisfied with her job than anyone.
Suddenly, looking at herself in the photo, Naviroje gave a wry smile.
'So young.'
Naviroje freshly realized she'd grown old.
This was about appearance, separate from skill.
Skin like summer fruit, lustrous hair.
A vibrant thirty-something self, brimming with life unlike now.
Of course, others still saw her as mid-to-late twenties, but what she felt was different.
"Hmph."
It probably wouldn't change going forward.
She'd age steadily through the relentless march of time.
Someday, wrinkles would form, hair turn white, and the sword—her very limbs—would grow too heavy to lift.
But that didn't scare her.
Life was most beautiful when pushing forward.
Shaking off the unusually long reverie, Naviroje moved.
'Time to go.'
She'd be late if she didn't wash up soon.
Couldn't have the vice principal suffer such embarrassment.
The moment she entered the bathroom.
"...Huh?"
Feeling a disconnect, she tilted her head.
The sink seemed taller somehow.
It should reach her waist, but now it was at chest height.
Even the bathroom slippers felt looser than usual, strangely unfamiliar.
'Just my imagination?'
She didn't dwell on it.
She never paid close attention to the sink or slippers anyway.
Assuming it was always this size, Naviroje stopped in front of the sink.
About to shed her snake-pattern pajamas—like molted skin—and wash her face.
"What."
Naviroje froze.
A young girl stood in the mirror.
A early-to-mid teen, looking ready to ask what was for lunch today.
Smooth cheeks still holding baby fat.
Smaller head making her eyes seem bigger.
Only now she noticed: the pajamas slipped down past her collarbones.
Explained the light shoulders.
A long while later.
After fiddling with her halved bust, she let out an incredulous chuckle.
"This... is too youthful."
****
Tower Mage of the Full Moon Spire.
Foremost authority on earth magic.
Wear-jabbar, etc.
There were many ways to sum up the man Jarodin, but the most famous was "the mage who revived his wife."
With Ronan's help, Jarodin had brought back his everything, his wife Sunya, and still worked as a Magic Department professor at Imperial Phileon Academy.
Sunya's return had changed much about him.
He'd gained enough weight to look normal, and remodeled his default suicidal expression into a smiling one.
The office interior was one such change.
Once evoking an abandoned wasteland, Jarodin's office now brimmed with potted plants, Sunya's handmade dolls, and colorful furniture.
Listening to lively music from the phonograph, one might confuse it for a southern native cultural experience club.
Living there naturally softened Jarodin's personality too. His cynicism faded, and he stopped teasing students mischievously.
Instead, drawing from his turbulent past, he offered solutions, earning fame as Phileon's best counselor.
But life was unpredictable.
Even Jarodin, who'd reached new heights, sometimes faced hard-to-bear situations.
Jarodin covered his face with his palm.
"Pfft... khh... heuk."
"Don't laugh."
"Right. I know. But how can I not with this sight..."
He desperately held back laughter, tears welling up.
He was doing his best to entertain his pint-sized guest who'd burst into his office.
Child-Naviroje sat on the opposite sofa, leg crossed, glaring at Jarodin with chin raised as usual.
But none of her former sensuality or intimidation remained—a mere trace.
Her pajamas still draped over her, dangling feet not reaching the floor, amplifying the comedy.
Inhale—whoosh—
After a deep breath, Jarodin offered her something.
"Here, take this first."
"What's that orb?"
"What else? Baren-brand candy that kids these days go crazy for... kghk!!"
Bam!
Jarodin toppled as he pulled out the candy.
Three invisible punches had slammed his solar plexus.
Painful enough to nearly soil himself—it wasn't a Naviroje impersonator.
"Keep blabbering if you want more. I'll add to your bone count with every nonsense word."
"Heuk, heeuk... you barbaric brat..."
"What the hell happened to me? I go to sleep and wake up a kid."
Naviroje groaned.
She'd rushed straight to Jarodin's office without changing, blanketed thickly to avoid students.
Jarodin staggered up, opening his mouth.
"Damn, hope my guts aren't ruptured... First off, congrats. You're now ageless."
"What? A curse?"
"Closer to a blessing. Like Archmage Rorhon. You've heard mages past a certain realm control their body's time flow? He switches between child and adult as needed."
Naviroje nodded.
No interest in magic, but she knew Rorhon freely altered his age.
And Principal Kratir's desperate efforts to reach that realm despite natural lifespan.
"Same principle for you. Mana density in your body outstripped your flesh vessel, reverting it to prime. In the New World, they call it 'exchanging bones and seizing fetus'."
"This doesn't feel like my prime."
Flapping her sleeves, Naviroje glanced aside.
Her soul-bound greatsword, the odachi Urusa, leaned against the sofa.
Clothes were secondary; this was the real issue.
Already longer than her height before, now it looked like a pillar.
Jarodin scratched his head.
"That... I can't explain. Personal variation, maybe."
His voice lacked confidence.
With almost no precedents, it was unavoidable.
She'd reached a realm even that giant hadn't.
Doubtful if history books mentioned even one or two.
Crunch!
Naviroje crunched and swallowed the candy.
"So no way back? Like controlling time a la Rorhon?"
"Regrettably, no. You're no mage. But in a few years, won't you revert to true prime? How old were you when you beat me in the jungle?"
"Around twenty... Even then, it's too late."
Naviroje frowned.
No guarantee of growth with time, and years were an eternity.
She had to teach as vice principal; this form would invite mockery at best.
Jarodin said,
"Definitely awkward. I go without saying, and even Rorhon can't manipulate others' time."
"No one to ask at all?"
"There is. Not human, though."
"What?"
Naviroje's eyes widened.
Unexpected answer.
She glared at Jarodin.
"Who?"
"I can tell you, but sure? Pretty prickly figure."
"Doesn't matter. Spit it out."
"Navardoje."
Naviroje's face hardened.
Jarodin sighed knowingly.
"Only mage superior to Rorhon. The Mother of Fire can solve your issue."
"...Serious?"
"Why lie now? Saves you the trip to meet her anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"Second-years' field trip to Adren soon. Tag along."
Adren.
The city of dragons and kin still floated in distant skies.
Once accessible only to heads of state or envoys with permission, post-Nebula Klazie war, it showed flexibility.
Jarodin muttered,
"Lemme see... Departing in three days. Perfect."
Phileon was now the mortals' group with closest Adren ties, somewhat accidentally.
Thanks to Ronan and Asel saving the city, and Navardoje's son Itargand attending Phileon.
Approval for field trip proved it.
Best way to meet Navardoje.
Since Starfortress Drimoor fell, she'd stayed in Adren with kin.
But that wasn't the issue now.
"You're joking. Lead students like this? I'd go alone first."
"Tough. Adren shuttles are strictly scheduled. Even as vice principal, no free access."
"Kgh..."
Naviroje gritted her teeth.
He was right.
Adren favored Phileon but had boundaries.
Caught sneaking could spark international incident.
"Got a good idea, wanna hear?"
"Good idea?"
"Yeah. Sunya wanted to try it on, so I prepared..."
A meaningful smile curved Jarodin's lips.
He fetched clothes from the closet.
Shirt, blazer, plain sleek skirt.
Naviroje's eyes narrowed.
"You bastard, don't tell me..."
"Yep. That uniform. You always secretly envied the students."
Her true feelings pierced, but irrelevant now.
In Jarodin's hands: Imperial Phileon Academy girls' summer uniform, neatly folded.
He offered it to Naviroje.
"If instructor's embarrassing, how about going as a student?"