Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Low-grade Disciple (2)
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Oliver was adapting smoothly to life as a low-grade disciple.
Actually, calling it adaptation was a bit funny.
It was just getting up early every morning to clean the classroom, lab, workshop, and library.
It was the same as when he was a temporary disciple, but honestly, the workload was incomparably lighter.
After cleaning, it was mealtime.
He ate after the high-grade and mid-grade disciples, so he couldn't eat as much as he wanted, but still, he got sausages or ham, thick soup, and freshly baked bread every day, which was far more abundant than during his temporary disciple days.
If anything was troubling, it was that his suddenly improved living conditions and abundant free time made him bored.
Oliver asked the dorm head just in case when he could attend classes.
'That's up to the Master. We had one recently, so probably none for a while.'
Disappointed, Oliver asked when he could use the library.
He hadn't fully mastered reading yet, but once he could, he could self-study from books, right?
However, he got another disappointing answer.
'No, you can't. Only the Master can use the library. They wouldn't just open up precious knowledge like that. At best, maybe Andrew can use it a bit?'
Andrew was Joseph's direct disciple who carried out his orders.
Oliver was about to ask how to become a direct disciple, but a bad feeling made him drop it.
It was like the survival instinct from the orphanage and mines? This question felt dangerous.
And so, Oliver spent peaceful, almost boring days, occasionally visiting Marie to learn letters and numbers, preparing for when he might need them.
"Wow, you're quick..."
"What's that?"
Marie spoke, and Oliver replied. She said admiringly again.
"It's your learning speed... You just learned the alphabet not long ago, and now you can write words and even sentences pretty well... You're amazing."
She praised him sincerely, but Oliver wasn't particularly pleased.
Learning letters wasn't the goal, naturally. Letters were just a stopover to learn black magic. You wouldn't celebrate arriving at a stopover, right?
Moreover, after hearing he couldn't freely use the library lately, his motivation had oddly dropped.
Clearly, Joseph said his goal was to raise excellent black magicians, but something didn't add up.
Marie, picking up on Oliver's state, asked.
"Are you okay? You seem down."
"Well... Even though I'm a low-grade disciple now, I can't attend classes or use the library."
Oliver said without much thought.
It was harsh to say that to Marie, who was in crisis for not even becoming a low-grade disciple, but anyway.
Still, Marie accepted it calmly, as if used to it.
"Of course. The library is like a treasure trove of black magic wisdom. They wouldn't let low-grade disciples use it freely, right?"
"Why?"
"..."
Marie's words were blocked for a moment by Oliver's innocent question. How to explain this obvious thing... Ah!
"It's to create hierarchy."
"Hier...archy?"
"Yes, hierarchy. Treating differences. You can't treat outstanding people the same as mediocre ones, right? Their value is different."
Oliver didn't reply, and his expression didn't show understanding. No, he looked like he didn't even get the words.
Marie explained slowly, like to a three-year-old.
"Uh, how to explain this? Hmm... Ah! How's your daily life lately? Bedding or meals?"
Oliver answered: clean bed, small desk, sausages, ham, bacon every morning breakfast, etc.
After hearing, Marie said with a bitter expression.
"That's exactly it. If temporary disciples got sausages every morning too, do you think I'd or the others work hard? We'd probably not even try to become black magicians."
Oliver tilted his head again.
"Uh... So Marie, are you learning black magic to eat sausages?"
Another foolish question, and Marie slapped her forehead.
It was incredibly rude for a temporary disciple to say that to a formal disciple, but Oliver's dumb look made it hard.
"No... Do you think I'd learn black magic for sausages and ham? It's a figure of speech. I mean... Really curious, why are you learning black magic, Oliver?"
"It's fun, isn't it?"
A reply without hesitation. So confident she couldn't argue. Marie shook her head and said again.
"...I'm not learning for that. I have more realistic reasons."
"Realistic reasons?"
Oliver showed interest. Normally Marie wouldn't answer, but somehow she did.
"Because it's my only hope."
"Hope?"
"Yes, the only hope for someone like me at the bottom. Becoming a black magician means I can get strong enough to not have to watch others' moods."
"..."
"Sigh... I knew you wouldn't relate. But there are way more people with reasons like mine than yours."
Oliver didn't argue.
He could tell from her emotions it was sincere. Of course, he didn't empathize, but it was interesting.
"So, Marie, you're becoming a black magician to get strong?"
"Of course. No one will look down on me for being a woman, I can take out thug bastards who pick fights alone. Earn good money too... Black magicians are watched warily, but at least not despised."
Oliver listened interestingly. While she spoke, her emotions surged vividly, and that tangled light of various feelings was quite pretty.
"Have you seen it yourself?"
"Seen what?"
"That black magicians are strong... Seen them fight?"
Marie hesitated, then carefully opened her mouth, like unwrapping a gift.
"...Once, when the Master took me in. Fearless local thugs picked a fight, but Master didn't even twitch an eyebrow and wiped them all out on the spot... It was amazing. Before that, no one could say anything even when those thugs caused havoc. It was a total shock. That's why I want to become a black magician. To become a strong being like the Master."
Oliver nodded interestedly. Marie belatedly smiled shyly.
"I won't talk more. It's embarrassing."
"Yes, got it."
He'd heard what he wanted, so Oliver accepted readily. Marie narrowed her eyes, seeming displeased.
"...Any problem?"
"Sigh... No. Whatever. Anyway, let's stop letter study here and help with my study now?"
"Ah, yes."
Oliver pushed aside the yellowish notebook and pencil, sat cross-legged on the floor.
His posture was quite stable, and Marie sat the same way.
"Then, excuse me for a moment."
"Yes."
As soon as she replied, Oliver reached out to Marie's body and extracted emotions. A subtle anticipation and anxiety.
A small light gathered at his fingertips, stabilizing instantly.
It was as natural as breathing; honestly, it seemed beyond mid-grade disciples.
Amazed by his ghostly skill, Marie clasped her hands. Oliver placed the emotion on them.
"Try stabilizing it."
No sooner said, the stabilized emotion started writhing to lose shape. Marie frowned, focusing on her fingertips.
For some reason, handling extracted emotions from a flask was harder, but her efforts paid off as it slowly stabilized.
Marie breathed shallowly, sweat beading on her forehead. But now it began.
"Now, try shaping it. Uh... cone shape?"
Marie manipulated without argument.
The floating emotion throbbed in place, then slowly turned into a cone.
"Then, rhombus."
Another command. Marie strained to change it. Harder than before, but Oliver continued indifferently.
"Now square."
"Circle again."
"Star shape this time."
"Donut shape."
"Then, next..."
"Wait!"
Sweating coldly, Marie said urgently. She panted, exhausted. Even stabilizing seemed hard.
"Can we rest a bit? It's tiring..."
"Then, spider web shape."
Oliver ignored lightly. She tried to speak again, but he said firmly.
"Spider web."
An indescribable pressure. Defeated, Marie focused and made a crude spider web.
But it started collapsing soon. Then, Oliver overlaid his hand on hers.
"What are yo—"
"Focus."
At his words, Marie focused again.
The unstable emotion stabilized into a spider web, and with it, an amazing sensation.
Through their overlapped hands, she indirectly felt how Oliver was helping—a mystical experience she'd never had.
Like what? Yeah, like someone holding the back when learning to bike.
"Spider web complete."
Marie said. Though crude with thick threads and wide gaps, it was complete.
Unusually for her, Marie checked Oliver's reaction carefully.
Being taught, she couldn't help it. Fortunately, he seemed somewhat satisfied.
"Hmm... Good job."
Surprisingly, that praise pleased Marie.
"Th-thanks."
"Can you relax your hands a bit?"
"Yes?"
As she replied, her hand twitched.
Looking, Oliver was manipulating the emotion beyond her hand, making a spider web.
Not her crude one, but an intricate one of hundreds of thin threads.
"This is..."
"Focus."
Marie shut her mouth, focusing all nerves as he said. She savored the sensation of the web forming like indulgence.
Incredibly delicate and beautiful.
As layers formed, Oliver spoke.
"Got a rough idea how?"
"Ah... Yes. Not all, but somewhat."
"Then, when alone, recall that sensation and imagine it in your head."
"Imagine?"
"Yes, it'll help a bit. From next time, practice just this. Remember."
Oliver finished, checking the clock. He couldn't read it fully, but distinguished hands.
"Short hand...1. Long hand...4. Time to go. Dorm head said come to back of factory before short hand at 1, long at 6."
"Yeah? What for?"
"Dunno. Said gathering materials, figure out when there."
"Ah... Materials?"
"You know what?"
"Probably gathering for products."
"Sausages?"
"No, real products. Probably with mid-grade disciples... Listen well and be careful."
"Got it. See you."
Oliver walked off without looking back. Seeing that, Marie felt strange. So, she called him unwittingly.
"Oliver!"
"...Yes?"
"Be... careful. And... thanks for teaching hard."
Oliver stared at her face, then replied.
"...Yes, you worked hard too, Marie."
And then he walked away.