Chapter 61
Chapter 61
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: Dorothy
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Splash!
Aslan felt the lake's frigid water seeping into every inch of his body.
Only after the burning sensation from passing through the wall of flames began to cool did he finally let out a sigh of relief. Then he heard the clash of swords echoing from outside.
Krash was buying time against Adolf.
He couldn't understand why Krash was going this far for him.
Krash had told him last time that he possessed a skill allowing him to steal the Moon Yin Body for himself.
It didn't feel real right now, but if he'd truly taken the Moon Yin Body just moments ago, then his goal was already achieved.
Yet despite being able to escape, Krash was confronting Adolf head-on.
As a direct descendant of the Valheim family, Adolf wouldn't want to create a feud with them, so he knew Krash wouldn't suffer major harm.
But from Krash's perspective, there was no need to take that risk.
'Maybe...'
It's because of Lirina.
Krash had looked quite close to her during their conversation.
He'd first come to meet Aslan through Lirina, after all. There might be something between them.
'I can think about that later.'
He didn't know why Krash was helping him this much.
All he knew was that it was a debt of gratitude he'd spend his life repaying.
And right now, his job was to seize this favor and achieve his goal.
Aslan hurriedly pulled the Spirit King's egg and Dorothy's crystal from his bosom.
Then, underwater, he slowly pushed Dorothy's crystal into the Spirit King's egg.
Whoosh!
At that moment, the egg swallowed the crystal and began to emit light.
Seeing it, Aslan cradled the egg protectively.
'Dorothy.'
Due to the Moon Yin Body, even as the sole direct heir of the Egret family, he'd endured countless humiliations.
Aslan felt himself slowly wearing down.
His mother, Aegasa, grew sharper and harsher by the day, and his grandfather Adolf never once acknowledged him.
No matter his efforts, Adolf never looked his way.
It was because he couldn't learn the Egret family's flame magic—he wasn't treated as a true direct descendant.
Under that family pressure, Aslan's heart rotted away.
Eventually, he suffered a mental breakdown.
He felt pointless in his studies, let alone daily life.
"Aslan! What kind of attitude is that?!"
His mother's scolding rang clearly in his ears.
His magic studies weren't progressing at all, so it was inevitable.
But even amid her shouts, Aslan's mind remained utterly blank.
Even his mother's once-fearsome face now felt worthless to him.
Perhaps he even pitied her.
He knew why the mother who'd been so kind in his childhood had to change like this.
"Aslan, how about a walk to change your mood?"
Lirina asked worriedly, seeing his state.
Since she was his devoted personal maid, Aslan dragged his exhausted mind to its feet.
As he passed a spot with lush green trees, his eyes caught sight of a girl.
She had pale blue hair so translucent it shimmered, and eyes like crystal.
The girl, with a face as exquisitely sculpted as ice, sat in the grass, absorbed in something.
Aslan stopped unwittingly.
Her striking features drew the eye, but more than that, the scene at her hands captivated him.
Of course it did.
She was casting magic.
A pointless spell, crafting tiny ice sculptures.
Crack!
"Ah!"
In that instant, the sculpture crumbled from her failed spell.
Regret was plain on her face, and Aslan couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.
"Pfft."
"Huh?"
His laugh reached her ears.
Realizing he'd laughed, Aslan coughed awkwardly.
Laughing at someone else's magic failure was rude.
And she noticed, her expression turning a bit indignant.
"Who are you, mocking my magic?"
"Ah, no, ahem, that's not it."
Aslan scratched his head apologetically and approached her.
"Want me to help you make it?"
"Huh? You're a mage?"
"Something like that."
He couldn't use flame magic, but he knew others.
So he replicated her ice sculpture spell, crafting a tiny horse statue.
Her eyes went wide.
"Wow, you're really good at magic! I kept failing."
"It's nothing."
"Does that mean I can't even do that much?"
She had quite the negative streak.
"My incantation doesn't seem that different. What's wrong?"
Meanwhile, she stared at the horse, pondering her own magic.
It was basic sculpture magic, but she'd made a few mistakes in the incantation.
She apparently couldn't sense her errors there.
"...Want me to teach you?"
Feeling awkward about laughing earlier, Aslan offered sheepishly. Her eyes sparkled.
"Really? Then teach me this, and this, and this too?"
She seized the chance, pulling a book from her bag.
She was a first-year at the Red Tower Academy.
A failing student with no talent for magic, despite attending.
But she loved magic and brimmed with enthusiasm—Dorothy.
That was their first meeting.
After that, somehow Aslan met Dorothy every day.
She'd buy food from her favorite shop and share it in exchange for lessons.
It was absurd to pay for teaching an Egret heir with food, but oddly, Aslan didn't mind.
Better to do something than nothing.
"Ah, I see! It was this incantation."
"Not just that. These and this were off too."
"Who messed it up?"
"You, Dorothy."
Dorothy was a peculiar failure even on second glance.
Untalented students usually tire of it all.
Who keeps trying without results?
She was even bullied at the academy for being a failure.
To mages, inability meant worthlessness.
But Dorothy loved magic.
She'd find new spells, discuss them with Aslan, and rejoice.
Aslan thought to himself watching her.
He was treated like a non-entity in the Egret family for failing flame magic.
Yet Dorothy, even less capable, truly loved magic.
That often gave him pause.
What was he learning magic for, exactly?
One day, Aslan lay feverish with a cold.
He'd been going out mornings lately, so his body finally rebelled.
Aslan lay with eyes closed, dazed.
He'd taken medicine, but he burned like fire.
It hurt.
He craved something cool.
Above all, this helplessness grated—this idleness mirroring his powerless life.
'Dorothy...'
Is she waiting?
Perhaps because it had become his routine.
Aslan thought of her with a sorry smile.
He'd promised daily lessons at this hour.
Breaking it meant they might never meet again.
'Always so negative.'
As his consciousness faded, something icy touched his forehead.
Opening his eyes faintly, he saw translucent blue hair.
It was Dorothy.
How she'd entered his room didn't matter; she was using her magic ice, wrapped in a handkerchief, to cool his fever.
"Do...rothy."
"Ah, Aslan, feel cooler?"
"Super... my forehead might freeze solid."
His voice hoarse from fever, she puffed out her flat chest proudly.
"Power of my magic. See? The magic you taught me is great. My magic can help too."
Aslan let out a hollow laugh.
"Still... far off."
At his teasing, she pouted.
But soon she rested her arms on his bed, chin atop, grinning brightly.
"Hurry and recover so you can teach me. I understand best from you."
The ice on his forehead was cold, yet felt the warmest to Aslan.
That day, he realized.
Magic could warm others, depending on the caster.
'My magic...'
Existed only to survive in the Egret family.
True magic wasn't such pretense.
Aslan felt a new enlightenment.
Maybe he could like magic again.
Days later, fever gone, he learned Lirina had brought her.
"Aslan, don't girlfriends recover faster with their boyfriend nearby?"
What ridiculous misunderstanding.
Aslan hid his flush and scolded her.
Lirina knelt in penalty, arms raised high, for a while.
From then, Dorothy visited often.
Via Lirina, she'd enter the mansion, knock on his window, and learn magic.
"Why learn magic, Dorothy?"
One day, Aslan asked.
Practicing wind magic with scant mana, she turned.
"Huh? 'Cause it's fun."
Fun.
So primal a reason left Aslan silent.
Her eyes shone purely.
She genuinely enjoyed magic.
To Aslan, mentally drained by it, that was wondrous.
"Why do you learn magic, Aslan?"
She countered.
Why, indeed.
"...Born into a magic lineage."
Aslan had never questioned it.
He was Egret direct heir.
So he learned.
No—he had to.
"Nah. Magic's hard and finicky. Kids avoid tough stuff. Their world revolves around them. They won't do what they hate, no matter what."
She smiled at him.
Her smile was beautifully sculpted like an ice flower.
"Maybe you enjoyed learning it too, Aslan?"
Aslan blinked.
He'd long tired of magic.
Enjoyed it?
'Was there ever a day I enjoyed learning magic?'
He stared blankly as she cheered her basic wind success, arms raised, running.
Her joy recalled his early childhood.
"Good job, my Aslan! This is the magic you can wield. And it'll light up your life ahead."
The day he first succeeded, his mother lifted him, smiling warmly.
Parental praise sparks a child's first interest.
Aegasa taught new spells daily, demonstrating.
Fiery birds soaring skies, rock beetles crawling floors, wind flutes from grass, soft water balls.
Her magic was joyful, beautiful.
Each for him, so he grew loving magic.
He knew magic's joy then.
He'd loved it.
More than anyone.
Aslan looked up.
Dorothy chased her wind-lifted paper plane, beaming.
He chuckled unwittingly.
He'd forgotten he'd once loved what tormented him most.
"Aslan!"
Hearing her call, he stood.
Through meeting Dorothy, he rediscovered magic's joy.
Wind blew.
From his spell, lifting her paper plane sky-high.
The dot against blue sky seemed to promise his ascent too.
"Dorothy."
"Yeah?"
"I think I like you."
The words slipped out.
His swelling heart till now.
Her eyes widened, then she flailed arms, stepping back.
"Wha—wah!"
Her face beet-red, clueless.
Aslan laughed.
Amid weary days, his brightest smile.
"C-can I answer later?"
Her unusually timid reply.
She tempted teasing.
"No. Now."
Aslan had a mischievous side.
Holding her wrist, staring, her face burned crimson.
"I dunno! Tomorrow!"
At her limit, she wind-blasted him away and fled.
Aslan thought it her finest spell yet.
'Tomorrow, huh.'
Imagining her embarrassment, he awaited the next day.
True to habit, he rose late evening.
"Aslan!"
Lirina's urgent cry as he dressed; he turned puzzled.
"Fire at the academy dorms!"
His eyes widened hugely.