#046 Is this what they call an archmage's leisure?
Is this what they call an archmage's leisure? Watching him calmly grip his teacup with an utterly unperturbed expression stirred complicated feelings in her.
His cabin was so peaceful that the ship's sway from the waves barely registered. But if all this scenery was just a magical illusion, then reality out there might be utter chaos. Still, the man right in front of her was none other than Chezare, wasn't he? She decided to shelve her needless worries.
"I prefer herbal tea over black tea. Peppermint, if possible."
"So picky."
"This hardly counts as picky."
"Just saying."
He filled Catherine's cup with tea, then poured fresh water from the teapot into a new one. Unlike before, it wasn't ruby-red black tea that trickled out, but a refreshing turquoise herbal brew.
"Chezare, if I ever learn magic, this is the first spell I'd master—the one that turns hot water into whatever tea I want. But teas have different flavors depending on the variety... Can it really replicate that?"
"A skilled mage could do just about anything."
Chezare said that, then shook his head in disbelief.
"No matter how far back I look in my memory, you're the first to say something so absurd."
"Really? I've already got my second spell picked out too."
"Let me guess—cleaning magic."
"And the third."
"Laundry?"
How does he know so well? Catherine kept her mouth shut, figuring he'd just say something like, 'Because our souls are linked.'
Instead, Catherine got to the point of why she'd come.
"Chezare, what in the world is going on here?"
"One moment."
Snap.
Chezare suddenly flicked his fingers. What was that? Catherine glanced around, wondering if something had changed, but nothing happened. Meanwhile, he nodded at her as if to say, go on.
"......What did you just do?"
"Nothing much. Just put the outsider you brought to sleep."
"Ah."
He meant he'd knocked out Fontpado Madam. Sure enough, when Catherine checked her bag, Yaong was fast asleep too. One-shot, two-kills.
"Why is today repeating over and over?"
"Repeating? Time can be stopped, but not rewound. In short, everything here is an illusion. A collective one cast over the entire Lilith Ship."
"But I have magic nullification. And illusion magic works on me?"
"You know magic nullification doesn't make you invincible to every spell."
Chezare leaned back in his chair, his voice laced with meaning.
Ways to pierce the defenses of magic nullification. As he'd said, methods did exist. The most classic was to strike a fatal blow to the user's psyche.
"Honestly, I was a bit surprised. I didn't expect to see you here, Miss Catherine. And yet you seem perfectly fine."
Catherine recalled the memories she'd confronted in the darkness. No matter how she thought about it, that was the only moment that could have shaken her mentally. Objectively—or subjectively—it was far from a good memory. But to Catherine, those were past wounds she'd shed long ago.
"I'm not bothered at all. If anything, I'm more shocked that it affected me without me realizing."
Chezare stared into Catherine's eyes, just staring. Not with expectation of a reaction or any hint of doubt—just quietly observing.
Finally, he nodded and drew a deep breath.
"That could be. ...But Miss Catherine, magic nullification is almost instinctual. For it to fail means you've been shaken far more than you think."
He was right. Simply put, this sudden unknown magic had prodded a traumatic weak spot in her mind, like a sudden flare-up.
"Recognizing your mental weaknesses and limits clearly is the most crucial training for anyone with magic nullification. You never know when or how you'll be hit."
It wasn't unpleasant to receive his concern. Though that didn't make the nagging enjoyable.
"But I've got you, Chezare."
"True enough."
He affirmed it without the slightest hesitation. Well, he had reason to. Just a few days ago, hadn't he immediately sensed Giovanni, the head of Busperfield?
"......Oh, right."
Speaking of Giovanni brought it to mind.
"Remember when I met Fontpado Madam? I got this from some weird guy back then."
Chezare's eyebrow twitched as he took the business card from her. Catherine remembered tossing it away in the wind, but the next day it was safely in her bag. No matter how hard she tried to ditch it, it wouldn't go, so she'd kept it for now.
His cobalt-blue eyes slowly scanned both sides. His expression wasn't pleased.
"Now even this gets attached."
Nor was his tone.
"I've infused it with my mana, so it'll be safe even if you go without me. Do as you please; I won't stop you."
In other words, visiting Busperfield's stronghold would be fine.
Hmm.
Catherine had had no particular thoughts on Busperfield until now, but his words sparked an odd curiosity. It was famous as a secret fortress no one could reach.
"You're doing well, at least."
Chezare tucked the card away, his face briefly lighting with satisfaction.
"At what?"
"Reporting every shady encounter dutifully."
Hm. Thinking back, maybe she had been.
I thought I was pretty independent.
But praise for doing well made her want to keep it up.
"Ever since meeting you, Chezare, I've been tangled in all these odd connections. Or maybe since moving into that mansion?"
"Does it bother you?"
"No, I like it."
Though saying it out loud felt a tad off. Still, seeing his sated, leopard-like expression, she decided to take it positively.
"So, when do I start learning magic?"
"You really want it bad. How'd you hold back that scholarly zeal all this time?"
Self-loathing over lack of talent naturally creates distance. But Catherine didn't want to show weakness, so she voiced another reason she'd always felt.
"I need to protect myself even when you're not around."
There was no guarantee she'd always have Demian and Yaong. Plus, Demian would leave again in a few months, so she wanted some progress by then.
"Especially if I'm going to keep living in that house."
What if the pig-headed monster showed up when she couldn't reach Chezare? Ugh. The thought alone was horrifying.
"You don't need magic for that; don't worry. As my contractor, you can summon demons under my true name. With practice."
"How long?"
"About five years."
Catherine wondered if he was teasing her. But his face was deadly serious as he explained patiently, like teaching a child.
"Summoning a contracted demon is like ringing a bell—they'll hear it right away if they have ears. But calling an uncontracted one is like clapping in front of someone blind and deaf."
His slender, ivory-like fingers traced the rim of his teacup.
"In short, you have to drag them physically. The body example is just analogy; in reality, it uses mana."
Using mana meant only mages with a contracted demon could summon others.
That's from demonology class.
The identical example made her suspect Chezare might be the authority who wrote the empire's basic demonology textbook.
"Then what about during those five years of learning that?"
He gave her a look like she was asking the obvious.
"Stay put in Christopher and don't go anywhere dangerous. Busperfield too."
Fair enough. Early magic training probably wouldn't leave time for outings anyway. Three years holed up sounded fine; she just wanted to start already.
Have I ever been this passionate about something?
"Shall we head back now?"
Chezare set his empty teacup on the table. Time to return to reality. Catherine asked as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"What should I do once we're back?"
"Hm. Read a book in your cabin... or meditate."
"......While the Archdemon summoning circle is being drawn?"
"Exactly. Is there anything you could do, Miss Catherine? Join us for tea and chat?"
No, not particularly.
Chezare said plainly with steady eyes.
"It's nothing to fuss over, so just carry on as usual."
There was no arrogance or bloated ego. He just didn't seem worried himself. That made her trust him all the more.
Chezare, the grand duke called one of the greatest archmages alongside Shagweed II. A sudden question struck Catherine.
"They know you're aboard, so why pick the Lilith Ship of all places?"
"I already gave the answer. Because I'm here. If popularity's a crime, then guilty."
Was he seriously joking right now?
"You mean there's a mage out there who can take on Chezare?"
"My power isn't as perfect as you think, Miss Catherine. Human flesh limits usable mana. This body itself is a shackle."
She could imagine. Even the sturdiest teacup couldn't contain a typhoon.
"I didn't know you had a separate original body."
"I showed it in that dream a few days ago."
Dream...?
"The electric eel? Or the white dolphin?"
Chezare let out an incredulous laugh.
"Too undignified to call either of those me."
Then what? She didn't remember any other creatures besides those.
......No way, the coral reef?
Soon after, Chezare rose from his chair.
"If reading gets boring... come up on deck around four in the afternoon. You'll see something interesting."
"'Interesting' doesn't mean the Archdemon summoning, right?"
His grinning face was dazzlingly beautiful, but just as unsettling.
"Come see for yourself if you're curious."
Snap.
Chezare flicked his fingers again. When Catherine blinked, she was no longer in his cabin—but in Prince Jennan's.
Snore...
Yaong's snoring came from the bag. Seemed the illusion trapped people through sleep. She quietly slipped out of the cabin, but the corridor was eerily silent—no sign of Percival or Fontpado Madam.
"In that case......"
No helping it. Following Chezare's advice, Catherine returned to her own cabin and opened her half-read book.
Chezare says it's fine—what could go wrong?