Principles and Rules
Georgia Medici. Descendant of Sir Giuseppe Medici, the first judge of humanity, and the eldest son of the Medici family.
⋯⋯And a man branded as a disgrace to his house for his disheveled appearance and lazy demeanor.
That man was now darting across the faculty office with rapid steps, a speed so at odds with his usual zombie-like sluggishness.
No, it wasn't just his footsteps that differed from the norm.
Georgia Medici was indeed lazy. But precisely because of that, he never let work pile up—he handled everything swiftly and precisely.
What else could explain why he, of all people, was assigned as the homeroom professor for Nicola, the top class? Simply because he was competent enough in every respect to manage its students.
A man indifferent to building relationships or climbing the ranks, doing only what was required of him. That left little room for conflicts with others, making him one of the few professors whose angry face even the academy's longest-serving staff could scarcely recall.
Now, that man's face was twisted like crumpled newspaper.
They say people who never get angry are terrifying when they finally do.
When a man who was, at best, even-tempered—or at worst, utterly oblivious—unleashed his fury at full throttle, no one dared stand in his way.
“What is it, Professor Georgia?”
Only one person did.
His sister, Cassia Medici, the same woman who had appeared at the entrance exam venue. She adjusted her glasses atop her stern features and blocked her brother's path.
“Step aside, Cassia.”
“Professor Cassia, if you please, Professor Georgia.”
“I'm not in the mood for a debate with you.”
“Nor I with you.”
Georgia's bloodshot dead-fish eyes blazed with rage.
“This is for my student. Move.”
“Your student⋯⋯? You mean Ricardo Bardi?”
“Yes. I thought it odd when they suddenly invited some external guest, and what do you know—someone of unclear identity using deck-destruction tactics. Hah, predictable scheming.”
Deck destruction tactics weren't inherently worthy of scorn. They were a legitimate branch of Magic & Creature strategy. It was just that people tended to favor creature battles, so the style divided opinions sharply.
Of course, Georgia harbored no grudge against deck destruction itself. His anger targeted the blatant intent behind this particular ploy.
If he let this slide, what other schemes would rain down on that boy Ricardo in the future? Georgia could already foresee it all too well.
“Damnable old fools. Blinded by dragons, they can't see the truth.”
“Watch your words, Professor Georgia!”
“The ones who need to watch it are those scheming old bastards⋯⋯.”
His low, gloomy voice rumbled like a growl. Though not loud, it made everyone in the spacious faculty office at that moment shudder.
“That kid is a child of just seventeen before he's a dragon's master. A child who needs to study more, experience more under adult protection. A child who was bedridden just yesterday!”
Georgia still regretted letting Ricardo and Diego's duel go unchecked. He was that incompetent.
“As I said, watch your words, Professor Georgia. The councilors didn't recommend Professor Nico Müller for this guest lecture to begin with, and even if they had, any objections should be raised through proper channels.”
The councilors didn't call in Müller? That was about as convincing as a blind man bluffing. They'd just slapped some disposable scapegoat's name on it.
Damn principles. Cursed procedures. Georgia eyed his sister—the very incarnation of principles divorced from reality—with weary disgust.
Sir Giuseppe Medici might have been great, but his descendants? At least the current Medici family were little more than prisoners chained by "principles and rules."
Thus, the one-eyed man born between cyclopes found his family both repulsive and, deep down, pitiable.
His gaze toward his sister. When was the last time a smile had graced that rigid face? He couldn't even remember.
Black hair cascading over dead-fish eyes, Georgia murmured sadly.
“You've even forgotten that the academy's principles exist to protect the children, Cassia.”
“⋯⋯!”
“Never mind. Words won't reach you now anyway. I'll handle it myself.”
The Medici family's black sheep turned on his heel. His back looked so forlorn, as if he'd abandoned something, that Cassia instinctively reached out—only to let her hand fall, powerless. She herself hadn't grasped the meaning of her own impulse.
Leaving his sister behind, Georgia exited the faculty office and swiftly schooled his expression.
Colleagues and councilors might face his wrath, but students had no reason to.
Instead, he channeled his pounding, rage-fueled heart into propelling his steps faster.
He arrived promptly at the front of Lab Building A. His students were just then filing inside.
Dashing toward the one boy who particularly caught his eye, Georgia called out to the youth—Ricardo.
“Ricardo Bardi.”
“Ah, yes, Professor.”
“How's your body holding up?”
“Fine, thanks to you. I took the medicine you sent.”
“Hm.”
Professor Georgia rolled the words in his tightly shut mouth for a moment. Words were like rocks on a hill—the more you rolled them, the heavier they grew.
What should he say?
He'd told Cassia he'd handle it, but in truth, a single professor defying the academy council and providing a real solution was a pipe dream.
The most Georgia could do for Ricardo was process an early dismissal for the day.
“Professor.”
As Georgia chewed on his helplessness, Ricardo spoke first. A glance revealed an astonishingly calm smile on the boy's face.
Was it just Georgia's heart playing tricks, or did that smile seem to say, I get it all, so don't blame yourself too much?
“It's fine.”
“⋯⋯Ricardo Bardi.”
“Well, it's something I'd already thought about before coming to the academy anyway.”
Thinking ahead meant he'd prepared countermeasures too. The boy shrugged.
⋯⋯In that instant, a realization flashed through Georgia's mind.
A pile of ashes that would scatter at the slightest breeze—that had been Ricardo's first impression. But the reality? Those who never truly looked would never know, but Georgia now sensed the unyielding resolve rooted deep in the boy's heart.
He wasn't mere ashes left behind. Like the eyes on his face—the only part retaining color—he was an ember. One awaiting the day it would blaze fiercely.
“⋯⋯Ricardo Bardi.”
“Yes, Professor?”
“What do you want to become in the future?”
Imagining that flame blooming brilliantly, Georgia blurted out a question even he found idiotic.
Before another regret could pile on, Ricardo grinned first, thankfully.
“Well, to cut to the chase, I just want to eat well and live well. Oh, and live a long time too.”
A disarmingly simple answer from the eldest son of a count's family.
“There were people I knew. They could be bitchy and dumb sometimes, but they were all good folks.”
His red eyes grew distant. Not looking at Georgia before him, but into a far-off past.
“So I'll live long. No one else will remember those idiots if I don't.”
His voice carried thick regret. After a bitter smile, Ricardo shifted tone.
“⋯⋯It used to be just that. But living's added a bit more.”
“Added?”
“Yeah. Met this little kid on a snowy day. Owe her a lot, so now I want to pay it back. Gotta get my act together for that.”
Ricardo's expression as he spoke was remarkably resolute. He might sway in harsh storms, but he'd never break.
“⋯⋯I see.”
“Yes, that's it. So don't worry too much.”
“Alright. Then I'll go do my job with peace of mind.”
“Yes. If that's—huh?”
“What is it?”
“No, it's just⋯⋯your face looks pretty scary right now, Professor.”
“Don't mind it.”
He was merely pondering how to deal with those damnable old fools. Even without voicing it, Ricardo seemed to catch on, his eyes twitching.
“You gonna be okay?”
“Worry about yourself instead. A student's duty is to focus on studies.”
“Hmm⋯⋯.”
Ricardo let out a brief hum, then pulled a wad of papers from his bag, as if to say, fine, take this at least.
“What's this?”
“Figured it might help with what you're thinking about.”
A glance down revealed densely packed details on Nico Müller, the so-called guest lecturer who'd wormed his way into the academy. Even trivialities Georgia wondered how he'd uncovered.
Ding-a-ling~──♬
Before he could ask the source, the class bell rang. Ricardo flashed a grin like it was perfect timing, bid farewell, and headed in first.
Professor Georgia looked down at the papers in his hand once more.
“⋯⋯Hm. More than just helpful, I suspect.”
Abandoning the quest to trace their origin, Georgia gave a wry smile and turned to his professorial duties.
Meanwhile, someone watched his retreating back.
“Matteo.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
None other than Ardia Kingdom's princess, Alessia Le Fell Ardia.
“Seems there's a troublesome sort about. Isn't extending a hand to him a royal duty as well?”
“Indeed, Your Highness.”
“Then go.”
“As you command.”
Matteo's presence vanished in an instant. Alessia strode into the lab with calm, echoing heels, as if nothing had happened.