15. Finance Director Fan Club (Not Really)
15. Finance Director Fan Club (Not Really)
The charity ball was scheduled to last only a single night, built around the packed itineraries of the distinguished guests.
I had no reason to show up in person, but I did think something unexpected might happen. We'd wrapped up all the major pieces—the collusion with the Wish Order, the execution of the terror attack—but none of that would matter if we failed to collect the rewards.
I'd handed the Chairwoman a cheat sheet. The Head of Academic Affairs and other faculty would be supporting her, and the Chairwoman herself had looked thoroughly confident, so I'd figured that was enough.
By all appearances, the ball was running smoothly. I'd been listening to the Chairwoman's real-time conversations with the guests through her communication tool, and the donations were flowing in nicely.
Most importantly, the First Prince was staying quiet.
'I was certain he'd try something.'
The First Prince occupied a position where even grand nobles had to watch their step around him. If he'd openly challenged the Chairwoman, the other nobles wouldn't have found it easy to approach her either.
But the First Prince was conspicuously restrained. He wasn't trying to hold anyone back. If anything, he seemed more wary of someone else.
And through the Chairwoman and the Margrave, I learned exactly who that was.
'Crown Prince Zeke of the Delphia Kingdom.'
If the royal family was considering deploying the army in response to the civil war, then the crown prince of the opposing kingdom was impossible to ignore. Even more so when a figure of that caliber had personally traveled to a foreign country.
So the First Prince appeared to be monitoring the Crown Prince's every move. Naturally, I was also under surveillance because of my contact with Zeke, though the Margrave seemed to have taken charge of that angle.
...The one variable was that the Margrave was paying even closer attention to me—more precisely, to the Chairwoman—than he was to Crown Prince Zeke. Which, ironically, was how I ended up hearing all about the army deployment plan, a piece of information that ought to be among the royal family's most tightly guarded secrets.
When I asked the Margrave about it.
──Helping my brother-in-law is only natural. You're going to be married to Nunim soon, aren't you? Hoho!
So I just laughed it off. At first the misunderstanding had been so absurd I could only stare, but seeing how much intel he kept feeding me, I figured it was better to let it stand.
We'd been talking like that when the Elf Archmage arrived, and then the Chairwoman appeared out of nowhere and smacked both the Margrave and the Archmage upside the head before apologizing to me and dragging them both away.
Everything happened so fast I barely managed an "Uh" before it was over, and I was left alone in the office.
"I beg of you. You must have family of your own."
"I'm an orphan."
"I meant... family in the spiritual sense. I am no blood relation to Chloe, either. Surely you have a family bonded in spirit..."
"I didn't."
"...At any rate, begging is all I can do."
Why had this man shown up again? Wasn't he dragged off by the Chairwoman? More importantly, wasn't the ball still going on? Could an 8th Rank just vanish?
I'd been about to rest, and then he popped in without so much as a flicker and started pulling the talulla on me. Was it okay to answer an 8th Rank like that? I was only saying I didn't have what I didn't have.
And anyway, once the Chairwoman was deployed, things would work out. Against an 8th Rank, sure, I'd probably die before she arrived, but he'd die right after. I believed no one was willing to die alongside a mere 1st Rank just for killing one.
Anyway.
"So you want me to talk Student Chloe into giving up her feelings for me. Is that it?"
"Yes! Exactly!"
It did grate that he'd assumed from the start I'd cooperate, but that wasn't the real issue.
When I first heard his proposal, I thought it was some kind of deranged nonsense. The more I listened, though, the more something smelled.
The same feeling I'd had meeting Sir Julius...
"Forgive my asking, but isn't Student Chloe your disciple and family, Archmage? Why ask someone like me instead of speaking to her yourself?"
"You knew the old tales of my family, so I assumed you understood everything. I see I was wrong. We... no, I am the only one left. But to an elf, family is something you must never lay a hand on. Not even a slap, not even corporal punishment. That is also why I, an outsider, remained unharmed."
"What do you mean by...?"
"Adults once called it familial love, but when I studied it privately I concluded it likely stems from a racial survival instinct. There are so shamefully few elves left that we barely qualify as a species, and our fertility is low. So we try to avoid wounding any living specimen."
Ah.
Watching the Elf Archmage talk about his own race like that... I understood why the Chairwoman swore off elves. And why this particular one had always been on the outside.
"But you said you studied Eyes, Archmage..."
"The Mad Dragon told you. That is also true. I am an elf, so I naturally felt an instinctive revulsion toward researching the eyes of living kin."
"...Living?"
"I studied only the eyes of corpses, of course. The racial instinct does not extend to the dead. As a child I sometimes prayed something would happen to kill off my family, just so I could study them. Haha."
Was that the very alienation that had allowed him to become the last survivor of his people? Every time he blinked, the pattern and color of his pupils shifted, and the Archmage laughed as if recalling nothing but a fond memory.
Naturally, I laughed along. Even at unfunny stories, laughing is a working adult's survival skill. I'd done a fine job laughing when the Chairwoman cracked her own absurd jokes.
More importantly.
'So he's instinctively unwilling to act directly against Chloe, and that's why he's trying to handle this as gently as possible.'
Granted, his idea of "gentle" meant having me—the object of her hopeless crush, apparently—reject her myself. A method that, from a human perspective, was basically the manufacturing of blackmail material. That part was still absurd.
This deranged elf might strip Chloe of her surname and declare her no longer family, then do something even more unhinged. Refusing him rashly was dangerous.
But the plan was riddled with flaws from the start. Very appropriate for a mad elf.
'More than anything—Chloe likes me?'
Why on earth? Don't tell me she fell for me just because we watched some fireworks together at the festival.
Aside from that, I'd done nothing but unilaterally assign her work. If that was enough to make someone fall for you, then I'd already be in a desperate love affair with the Chairwoman.
Denying it or snapping that it was ridiculous would be amateurish.
Besides, as I mentioned earlier.
Dangerous though it was... this man gave off the same smell as Sir Julius.
The scent of a sucker.
"Of course I must cooperate with you, Archmage."
"I knew I could count on you!"
"However..."
"Is there some problem?"
"As you are aware, Archmage, Student Chloe is remarkably stubborn. Even if I simply told her to give up, she wouldn't accept it easily. Didn't you, her own parent-figure, already get turned down yourself?"
"Mm, that is true."
"And while I am nothing compared to you, I am also the Finance Director and extremely busy. Finding the time to persuade Student Chloe would be difficult. If I fail to do my job, the Chairwoman will be furious."
"...If the Mad Dragon—who has finally been behaving—starts rampaging again, that too would be a problem."
My points seemed to make the Elf Archmage realize several complications, and his expression grew pensive.
If he went and came up with something deranged in that state, that would be worse. I spoke up half a beat faster.
I'd already gotten him to accept my logic. Now it was time to steer.
"In that sense... I believe I will need some money."
"Money? Nothing else?"
"Money can save a great deal of time. It can create opportunities to meet with Student Chloe, lend weight to her decisions, and above all, soothe the Chairwoman's anger. And to be blunt, it will allow me to accept parting from Student Chloe."
"................"
"Archmage?"
"No, I understand. It must have been a difficult decision for you... I know well how hard it is to give up your feelings with nothing to show for it. I felt the same when I dug out my dead younger sister's eyes."
Somehow I doubted he understood as well as he thought.
The Elf Archmage, responding as though he knew everything, opened a dark rift in the air and rummaged inside.
"But I have never taken much interest in human wealth. The most I can offer is..."
"Is...?"
"This. Will it suffice?"
Clunk.
The object the Elf Archmage pulled from the void was a gleaming sphere.
It shone with a milky luster, perfectly round and—oh, fuck.
Was that a pearl?
"Where did this come from?"
"Heirlooms from my family. The roots of the World Tree touched the sea, and they were harvested from there. The Empire was always very fond of these."
"They're heirlooms. Are you sure this is acceptable?"
"Did I not just say? Instinct does not stir for the dead. Heirlooms, likewise—if the survivor uses them well, that is their true value. So will this much do?"
This wasn't a question of "Will this do." Calling them mere pearls? The sea in this world was a lethally dangerous place.
A cradle of monsters, always teeming, the creatures sometimes surging onto land. Naturally, pearls, which could only be harvested from the ocean depths, were precious beyond measure.
Throughout history, whenever a hegemonic power conquered the continent, its next gaze always turned to the sea. What came from the sea was, in itself, a symbol of power and authority. Pearls were the ultimate expression of that.
"In the Empire, a pearl is said to be worth its weight in gold. I took magical tools instead, but... is that correct?"
"Mm, so I've heard."
'Those Empire bastards. They've been fleecing an elf who doesn't know any better, just among themselves?'
Worth its weight in gold? You'd need a cart-load of gold to have a shot at obtaining one. They'd probably been lying about the price and slowly bleeding him dry so they wouldn't have to clean him out all at once.
After all, the Elf Archmage had little interest in human wealth, and if they were ever caught, they could simply cut ties and run. The Archmage had been satisfied enough taking magical tools instead of gold.
But things were different now.
"If you understand the value, you will know my answer. Regrettably, with just this..."
"I thought as much. Still, I mean to part with as many as I can. Is there no way?"
"It can't be helped. Since this is a request from you, Archmage, I will bear the loss."
"I'm grateful!"
With a sucker this ripe, wouldn't it be wrong not to join in?
If he later realized he'd been had and came after me, I could just pin everything on the Empire. The ones who started the dirty dealing were the Empire—isn't that basic common sense? Or he could cross the border and throw down with the Chairwoman. Go Chairwoman.
Most importantly, wasn't the Archmage getting what he wanted? From his perspective, he was solving the Chloe problem with a handful of trinkets.
I just had to get Chloe to give up feelings she didn't actually have. She was heading back to her home country after the ball anyway, wasn't she? What was she going to do, demand updates on my progress?
'Donations coming in, more artifacts from the royal family because they'll be sucking up to the Chairwoman over the military issue, and now pearls on top of it all.'
Good God, how much was all this? Bankruptcy imminent or not, I felt like my stomach was going to burst. By a rough estimate, we hadn't seen this level of financial health since the academy's earliest founding days.
...It made me genuinely curious. How exactly had the Chairwoman amassed that kind of fortune in the first place? Was it even possible, 8th Rank or not?
'More to the point—with her sense of money?'
What method could she possibly have used? What, did she wipe out a kingdom and loot its treasury?
I pushed the useless thought aside and clasped the Elf Archmage's hand. The Archmage—no, the Sucker-Mage—looked genuinely moved.
"I cannot give you the name Pisti, but I shall think of you as closely as family!"
"Your words alone are honor enough."
Adam Pisti—I would pass on that one, thank you. Adam Caines was perfectly fine. I'd gone to the trouble of choosing it.
But the mad elf's expression shifted, the look of someone who'd just had a wonderful idea.
Now what.
"Since things have come this far, why not learn some magic? You have my gratitude, you see."
"Archmage, I am well aware of your greatness, but I am a mere 1st Rank..."
"I know that quite well. But there are methods."
"Pardon?"
"It would be sufficient if you were to accept an 'Eye.'"
The Elf Archmage said this.
With a brilliantly bright smile.
Two, four, eight, sixteen.
His pupils kept doubling, until they filled his entire eye like a mosaic.
As if directly observing the dozens of me reflected in those dozens of overlapping eyes.
"If you are ever inclined—say the word."
".........."
"You may never become family, but you could certainly escape the 1st Rank."
"You know as well as I that this is not an opportunity that often comes."
"Think it over. Carefully."