The Master's Turn
The wait between master and disciple had been long, but eventually, one's turn always came. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the twilight shadows stretched long across the ground, Elena's number was finally called.
“Number 48, please come inside.”
Number 48. There were many titles for her—Grand Mage, Master, Chief Professor—but being called something like Number 48 was a first. In any normal situation, Elena would never have let such humiliation slide.
If it were for Ed, though, she'd have to endure it.
But she had always been lenient toward true talent. And even more so if that talent possessed a sense of morality.
With talent like Edgar's, he could even earn the title of 'Creation.' The only human blacksmith ever to do so.
Elena held Edgar's potential in the highest regard. High enough to believe he could receive the title of Creation, an honor granted to only the three greatest blacksmiths of the current era. Of course, some might call her thoughts nothing but grand delusion. After all, no human had ever received the title of Creation before.
Indeed, every treasure famous enough to leave its mark on history had been crafted by the eight dwarf families. Masterpieces like Twilight, Eclipse, World of Nothingness, and Blessing had all been born from dwarf hands. Humans had never created anything of that caliber.
But if it's Edgar...
With him, it might just be possible. He possessed a rich imagination capable of conceiving entirely new objects, and the precise senses needed to bring those ideas into reality. He was different from other blacksmiths who simply followed blueprints and churned out items by rote.
To earn the title of Creation, that kind of bold imagination and creativity was absolutely essential.
“Welcome—...?”
With those thoughts in mind, Elena stepped into James's forge. The moment Edgar recognized her, he tilted his head in confusion. For a second, he wondered if he was seeing things. Why was the Chief Professor Elena here?
“Edgar Fix.”
But Elena simply called his name in a calm, even tone. James leaned toward Edgar and whispered, “Do you know her?” Edgar answered with an awkward “Uh...” at the same time Elena gave a formal bow.
Anyone who knew Elena would have been shocked by the sight. The Grand Mage and mentor to the princess had bowed first.
“I came here today to apologize for what happened before. I made the wrong decision in a moment of emotion.”
Elena lifted her head after those opening words. She took one slow step after another toward Edgar as she continued.
“Belittling your skills. Disguising criticism as advice. Stripping away the qualification you rightfully deserved—”
Her steps came to a stop as those words ended. She and Edgar stood face to face. She extended her hand, offering a handshake.
“I want to ask for your forgiveness for all of it. As one human to another.”
Human to human. In other words, she was setting aside all the status and power that came with her position to convey her sincerity with a pure heart.
Edgar scratched the back of his head, then gave an awkward smile.
“Um... Well, I'm fine with it. I forgot about it a long time ago anyway. Besides, it's true that I touched your familiar without permission. I share some responsibility too.”
I share some responsibility too.
At Edgar's response, Elena smiled. Blacksmiths were usually known for being stubborn as mules, but Edgar was different. He was capable of self-reflection. Despite his talent, he wasn't arrogant.
“E-Ed... What are you talking about? Chief Professor?”
James, however, was completely bewildered by the entire situation. The number 48 contestant was the Chief Professor? In response, Elena pulled her nameplate from her pocket. It was engraved with both the imperial family crest and the Magic Society emblem.
“I'm late with the introduction. I am Elena von Illide Rosario, currently serving as Chief Professor at the Imperial Academy.”
“......?”
The moment James saw the nameplate, his eyes widened. Even though he came from a rural village, there was no way he wouldn't recognize Elena's name. She was the genius of the century who had earned the title of Grand Mage.
While James stood there stunned, Edgar spoke up again.
“If anyone deserves an apology, it's my father, James. He had to drop out without even knowing why.”
Edgar's statement essentially demanded that the absolute powerhouse—one of the pillars of imperial authority—bow her head to a mere commoner blacksmith. James whipped his head toward Edgar in shock.
“It must have been incredibly unfair to have your opportunity taken away because of my mistake. If you'll allow it, I'd like to give you another chance.”
Yet Elena bowed her head without hesitation, expressing her regret. Having lived as a commoner in her youth and despising authoritarianism with every fiber of her being, lowering her head to someone of lower status wasn't difficult for her at all.
“...Ah, yes. I'm fine with it. It's all in the past now... Honestly, running the forge here with my son isn't... all that bad...”
James accepted Elena's apology with a dazed expression. He never dreamed that the terrifying Grand Mage he'd only heard about in rumors would bow so casually to a commoner.
As that thought crossed his mind, Elena spoke again.
“Still, the fact that you lost your chance unfairly remains the same. Which brings me to this...”
Once the situation had settled, Elena moved on to the main topic. She asked them to participate in the bidding competition again next Wednesday. Both James and Edgar readily agreed.
“Then I'll see you next Wednesday at the same location and time as the previous test.”
Having finished her business, Elena left the forge with those final words. The moment she stepped outside, her figure scattered like smoke and vanished. James stared blankly at the mysterious sight before turning to Edgar.
“Ed. This... isn't a dream, right?”
The following Wednesday, we rode a carriage to the Imperial Academy. I'd originally planned to walk, but Elena had sent a carriage, saying we were her invited guests. Thanks to that, we traveled comfortably.
As I watched the scenery blur past, I thought about Elena. Why was she going to such lengths for me?
The answer came quickly.
She sees me as talent.
Talent. Elena was lenient toward those with it. No—beyond lenient, she was obsessed. Because she instinctively sensed that something ominous was stirring in the Ruined Lands, that deadly territory teeming with high-risk monsters and demonic creatures.
Her obsession with talent was the manifestation of her unconscious fear. She told herself it was simply because she'd become an academy professor and now cared about nurturing the next generation, but in truth, that obsession stemmed from primal terror.
The fear that if things continued as they were, the empire might be destroyed by the great catastrophe beginning in the Ruined Lands.
Anyway, I need to make good use of this opportunity.
And since I knew exactly what would happen in the future, I decided to take advantage of Elena's instincts. Specifically, her compulsion to nurture talent.
After all, I might be able to use that obsession to enroll as an academy student.
The results of the examination came immediately. There was no need to look further—James's work was selected. Since James was fated to become the academy's official blacksmith anyway, the outcome was only natural.
However, Elena hadn't chosen James's equipment simply because it was superior. From the beginning, she'd invited him here to lure me out as his assistant.
The fact that she'd called me alone to her office confirmed my suspicions.
“I'll be direct. Edgar Fix, I want to sponsor you.”
And just as expected, her first words as she sipped her black tea were exactly what I'd anticipated. Elena clearly held my abilities in high regard.
Still, I widened my eyes as if I had no idea what she was talking about.
“S-Sponsor? Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“When I visited Greta Village, I took a look at the things you developed. I thought it would be a waste to let such talent rot away.”
“Hmm...”
“What do you think? With my authority, I can establish a talent development fund for the academy to support you. I was thinking of sending you to study in the Kazantin Allied Kingdom for about five years.”
The Kazantin Allied Kingdom. A dwarf nation founded by four of the eight dwarf families. The blacksmith who held the title of Creation, Olin, was currently there.
Elena made the outrageous offer to petition the imperial family so that Olin would accept me as his disciple. All of this just to raise one person—diplomatic negotiations between nations.
“I truly appreciate the offer. But I want to learn by working at the academy.”
I turned her down. Her proposal was certainly extraordinary, but the place where the main scenario unfolded was right here at the Imperial Academy.
“...Hmm. You might not know much about Olin, but he's...”
Elena smiled awkwardly, preparing to explain just how remarkable Olin was. But since I already knew exactly how great a blacksmith he was, I didn't need to hear her explanation and cut in.
“Yes. The blacksmith everyone who holds the title of Creation looks up to.”
“—The title of Creation... Huh? What did you just say?”
“I said I know very well how incredible he is. Any blacksmith would dream of becoming his disciple.”
“......”
For a moment, Elena looked completely dumbfounded. She sank deeper into her leather chair and stared at me. Her face practically screamed, Who the hell is this kid?
Finally, she spoke.
“Are you... not particularly interested in improving your skills? Do you just want to stay with your father?”
“No. Improving my skills is my top priority.”
“...Then shouldn't you become Olin's disciple even more? Honestly, there's no guarantee he'll even accept you. He's only taken human disciples a handful of times in history.”
Of course that was true. Dwarves, whose pride in hammerwork pierced the heavens, rarely acknowledged humans as disciples.
“Yes, I'm well aware. But the person I need to improve my skills isn't Olin. In fact, he wouldn't be much help to me.”
“......”
A blacksmith with the title of Creation wouldn't be much help. Elena furrowed her brow as if she couldn't believe what she'd just heard and stared at me. Then, in a voice full of doubt, she asked,
“Then who exactly would be helpful? There can't be anyone with greater skill than Olin. He holds the title of Creation, after all.”
“...No. There is someone. Someone with even greater skill than Olin.”
Someone with even greater skill than Olin. At that absurd claim, Elena let out a hollow laugh. The title of Creation was granted only to those who had reached the absolute pinnacle of their craft.
She shook her head and took another sip of tea. Once she'd calmed herself, she looked at me with an expression that said, Alright, let's hear it.
“...Haa. Fine. People can have different opinions. It's nonsense, but let's say such a person exists. Then who is it? Who has superior skill to Olin?”
At this point in time, there was no one with greater skill than Olin. At least not when it came to equipment crafting.
But there was someone who possessed unparalleled skill in handling mana. The very person sitting before me—the Grand Mage, mentor to the princess, and Chief Professor of the Imperial Academy: Elena von Illide Rosario.
What I needed right now wasn't the teachings of a stubborn, prideful dwarf. I needed the guidance of a human mage who could acknowledge her own mistakes and apologize for them.
So I looked her straight in the eyes and spoke each word clearly.
“The person with greater skill than Olin is sitting right in front of me.”
“......? In front of you? Who...?”
Elena, unable to understand what I meant, looked around in confusion. I continued to gaze at her with a serious expression, paying it no mind.
Finally sensing something strange, she muttered “No way...” and pointed at herself.
“Wait, you can't possibly mean me... right? ...Me?”
“...Yes.”
“...What... Why me...? I can't even make a single spoon...?”
Of course she couldn't handle machinery. She'd probably never even swung a hammer. If she understood machines, she wouldn't have attached such a crude prosthetic to her cat.
But she possessed a skill that no one could match.
“Professor, you're a mana technician. I want to learn how to handle mana.”
“......Hah.”
“Please accept me as your disciple. I need to learn the art of manipulating mana.”