Chapter 35: Truly, a Pleasure (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 35: Truly, a Pleasure (1)
Arsen Hertz.
The name had crossed his mind from time to time.
Naturally, Calian had prepared himself for the day they would eventually meet. He held no personal grudge; he knew perfectly well that Arsen had killed him not because he was Bern, but because he was a knight of an enemy nation. He even remembered how Arsen had shown a great deal of respect to the dying Bern.
Logically, he understood all of this, but…
…even so, he couldn’t suppress the irrational resentment that welled up within him.
“I look forward to working with you,” Arsen said.
Calian replied with a deep smile. “Yes. Truly, a pleasure.”
That smile bore a strange resemblance to Franz’s. Alan, the only one to notice, glanced between Calian and Arsen before clicking his tongue softly. He realized two things at once: this hiring had been a mistake, and the path ahead for this particular mage would be anything but smooth.
“He is a talented individual who will be joining the mage corps. Learn much from him on your journey and get to know one another,” Lemain, who never felt the need to walk on eggshells, commented.
The fingers resting on Calian’s lap moved silently, tracing a long curve. As if following the afterimage of his touch, a smile with the exact same curve formed on Calian’s face.
“Yes, Your Highness. I will be sure to do so.”
The sight of that plastered-on smile sent goosebumps prickling down Alan’s arms, though Lemain merely nodded in satisfaction.
Calian didn’t recall it yet, but this was the second time Arsen had seen him. The first, of course, was on the day of the funeral for the master who had taught Arsen magic, when he had blocked Calian from crossing the bridge. His first impression of the prince had been so favorable that he hadn’t hesitated for a moment to visit the royal palace upon receiving Alan’s invitation.
Thus, completely unaware of how vastly different the meaning behind Calian’s smile was today compared to the one he had shown back then, Arsen looked at the prince with eyes full of anticipation.
“Right. Are the preparations for Roselita complete?” Lemain suddenly asked Calian.
Calian, still unaccustomed to the king’s gentle voice, replied with a slightly awkward expression. “Yes. Everything is ready.”
“But I heard you decided not to take a carriage. Won’t that be uncomfortable?”
It was the finest carriage on the continent—luxurious, spacious, and comfortable. It was equipped with over a dozen convenience spells, various defensive wards cast by the great Alan Manasil himself, and even a bedroom, shower, and restroom created within a sub-dimensional space by the supreme Ancient Dragon, Sispanian. Calian, who was leaving all that behind to ride a horse, replied demurely, though his face practically screamed, How could it not be uncomfortable?
“No, it is fine.”
In truth, this was all because of Raven.
If Calian rode in the carriage, Raven refused to walk alongside it. Not even Kyrie and his sister, who possessed elven blood and were exceptionally close with horses, could handle the stallion.
Calian had seriously agonized over the choice: leave Raven behind or leave the carriage behind. In the end, following Alan’s advice to use the opportunity for some exercise, he had decided to travel to Roselita with his beloved horse.
“The horse is highly intelligent, so there shouldn’t be any trouble,” Alan said, though it was unclear whether he was reassuring Lemain or teasing Calian.
Hearing this, Lemain nodded in support of Calian’s decision. “Indeed. You won’t have many opportunities to ride a horse and see Kairis. I believe you made a good choice. There won’t be another chance to travel outside the palace so freely as a prince.”
Calian gave a bitter smile. “Thank you for your permission.”
Once his conversation with Calian concluded, Lemain turned his head toward Alan. The topic, however, remained Calian.
“How has the prince’s magic been lately?”
“It’s enough to make Sispanian weep.”
Although Arsen was present, he would discover Calian’s magical proficiency sooner or later anyway. Lemain asked casually, and Alan replied just as casually for the same reason.
Lemain looked at Alan with a slightly surprised expression, as if to ask if the prince truly possessed that much talent. Alan smiled gently and continued.
“She’d weep with regret for ever giving him her blessing.”
Clatter!
The startled Arsen nearly dropped his knife. Barely managing to catch it, he let out a quiet sigh of relief before cautiously raising his head to gauge the reactions of the powerful figures at the table.
Calian continued his meal leisurely, as if he had heard neither Alan’s words nor the clatter of the knife. Lemain was staring blankly at Alan, who was now gulping down his water.
Lemain spoke quietly to Alan. “You are nothing if not consistent, Sir Manasil.”
“But of course.”
In the end, Lemain’s deep blue eyes turned back to Calian. “It has been a very long time since a mage was born into the royal family. Even if Sir Manasil behaves so outrageously, his abilities are outstanding. Once you return from Roselita, learn more from him and work hard.”
For the word “outrageous” to come from Lemain’s lips, one could only imagine how Alan usually behaved around him. Calian set down his fork and knife, bowed his head slightly, and replied politely.
“Yes, Your Highness. I will work harder.”
Lemain, who had no way of knowing that his son had already mastered the 3rd Circle at the mere age of fourteen—a year faster than Alan Manasil himself—simply nodded.
Having received an unnecessary lecture thanks to a master with impossibly high expectations for his disciple, Calian focused on his meal with a serene expression, showing no signs of feeling wronged. Alan, of course, ate with his usual, unchanging composure. Only Arsen, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the other three, could do little more than wet his dry throat.
After a few more exchanges, the luncheon came to an end.
Lemain, who was always busy, and Arsen, whose mind was in a flurry, departed first. By unspoken agreement, Calian and Alan walked out together, with Yan and Kyrie following at a distance.
They walked side by side along a green path lined with neatly trimmed trees that formed a cloister-like walkway. It was a beautiful promenade that wrapped around Senyu Hall like a wall. The hot August sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns onto the fine gravel path.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Alan cast Silent magic. Calian let out a soft chuckle. It seemed the spell the great mage used most often since coming to Kairis was none other than Silent. Alan, who couldn’t care less about such trivialities, quietly turned his head and asked Calian.
“Should I dismiss him, Your Highness?”
He was referring to Arsen.
At the mention of his name, Calian unconsciously brushed a hand over his chest. Alan decided not to ask what kind of history existed between Bern and Arsen.
Listening quietly to the drone of the cicadas, Calian asked, “How old is he?”
“He is twenty-eight. I was looking for a talented yet young mage who would be easy for you to get along with, and he fit the bill.”
That meant Arsen had been thirty-eight when he attacked Bern as a corps commander. To lead a mage corps at that age meant he was a true genius. There was no reason to lose such a talent over a grudge that only Calian remembered.
Calian smiled and shook his head. “Leave him be. I’ll handle it.”
Alan did not yet know that the words Yan feared most in the world were Calian’s confident declaration of “I’ll handle it.” He simply nodded.
“Are you gathering mages already? Isn’t it a bit too early?” Calian asked. It had only been three months since they began preparing to establish the mage corps. “I’m just concerned because it seems we’re gathering people before we even have a building to train and house them.”
Alan replied with a relaxed smile. “No, do not worry. I only summoned him early to serve as your escort. Besides, there aren’t many mages in Kairis who can be considered true talents yet, so it will take some time to fill our ranks.”
Well, I’m sure he knows what he’s doing, Calian thought, nodding readily.
Watching him, Alan smiled slightly and said, “I have decided on a name for the mage corps.”
Calian turned his head toward him.
Since it was an army Lemain had originally created, Calian had wanted Lemain to name it, even if Calian was the one establishing it ahead of schedule. For that reason, he had not revealed the name he already knew so well.
“What did you decide on?”
Alan looked at Calian with playful eyes, prompting him to guess. Calian let out a soft chuckle.
“Valkan.”
“As expected,” Alan smiled. “Correct. Lemain suggested we call it that, so I agreed.”
“You did well. Now that it has a name, it feels more real.”
Alan nodded. “I plan to summon my daughter-in-law and granddaughter from Libern soon. You will likely be able to meet them by the time you return from Roselita.”
“You have… a granddaughter.”
Calian’s steps faltered for a brief moment before he continued walking. A highly awkward smile appeared on his face. Alan, who looked even younger than Arsen, now wore a grandfatherly expression.
“She is a spirited and lovely child. However, I am summoning them because of my daughter-in-law, not my granddaughter. She currently teaches magic in Libern, so I believe she will be of help in training Valkan’s mages.”
Calian didn’t know much about Libern, only that mages were treated well there and that its people were known for their free-spirited nature. Unfamiliar with their magical education system, he asked Alan, “I am curious about the magic academies in Libern. Can one learn enough there to work as a professional mage?”
He was skeptical of how effective a one-to-many teaching system could truly be. Alan nodded and replied, “Yes. It is similar to Brissen’s knight training academy. Since results are tied to talent and effort, they are not so different from one another.”
No response came from Calian. Sensing that the prince had fallen deep into thought, Alan walked leisurely beside him in silence.
Calian finally spoke only after they had nearly completed a full lap around Senyu Hall.
“Master, do you have any other plans this afternoon?”
“No special plans,” Alan said, shaking his head without hesitation. Even if he did have plans, he would have canceled them if Calian needed him.
Calian nodded. This time, however, it wasn’t Alan he was seeking. He beamed at the anticipating mage and said, “Please lend me your carriage.”
A carriage, out of nowhere?
Hearing the unexpected words, Alan looked at Calian with questioning eyes. “Your business is with my carriage, rather than with me?”
It was a rather bizarre question. Calian chuckled briefly before replying, “I just need to borrow your name for a moment. I don’t mind if you come along, but you probably won’t find it very interesting today.”
He was saying he would ride in the luxurious carriage that anyone would recognize as Alan Manasil’s and use Alan Manasil’s name. Since Alan was not foolish enough to tag along where he wasn’t explicitly invited, he shook his head.
“I dislike uninteresting places. In any case, it would look strange if I were loitering outside the palace while you are using my carriage, so I will go chat with Lemain for a bit. Have a safe trip.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
With that, Calian took Yan and Kyrie, boarded Alan’s carriage, and headed out of the palace.
Upon hearing from the head chamberlain that Calian had left in Alan’s carriage, Lemain instructed that no further reports were necessary if Alan was accompanying him—a clear sign of his trust.
However, the moment those words left his mouth, Alan suddenly popped up from behind the head chamberlain. Seeing him, Lemain’s face crumpled completely.
This damn mage had sent the boy out all by himself.
*
Melfir Polun, the owner of the Polun Trading Company, was standing by a small pond in the rear garden of his mansion, feeding the fish. In other words, he was spending a very peaceful and leisurely afternoon. Or rather, he had been, until just a moment ago.
As he was enjoying his long-awaited rest, a servant rushed over to inform him that a black carriage decorated with mother-of-pearl had entered the estate.
Melfir’s round eyes widened to match those of the fish. “Sir Alan Manasil has come here?”
“Yes, Baron. I just confirmed the carriage’s arrival,” replied the servant, quietly catching his breath after his sprint to the garden.
“My word… What on earth could have brought him here?”
Handing the bowl of fish food to a nearby servant, Melfir dusted off his hands. As he hurried inside, another figure came running toward him. This man, dressed in a black suit, was not a mere servant but his butler. One of Melfir’s eyebrows shot up.
If his elderly butler was running, it meant something of grave importance had occurred. Soon, the butler reached Melfir and whispered in his ear. Melfir’s eyes grew even wider.
‘There was someone else in Sir Manasil’s carriage.’
Upon hearing the rest of the message, Melfir barely managed to stop himself from stumbling into the pond. His face had turned pale. The voice that had saved him during the King’s Birthday festival rang in his ears.
‘The space above your head looks precarious.’
Calian, who had saved his life with those few words, had arrived. He had come to collect the debt for a life saved, a debt that had been deferred for three months.
And he had come in person, in broad daylight.
Praying that his wits would be sharper today than on any other day of his life, Melfir hurried to where Calian was waiting.