The Disciplinary Committee (1)
The door to the Headmaster's office swung open. Professor Phoenicia, the Academy's Chief Theory Professor and a leading candidate for Vice-Headmaster, stepped inside with a stack of documents in hand.
Clifford, who had been working through his paperwork, removed his monocle and gave his eyes a light massage.
"What is it now?"
"I've come to report. The incident involving the unauthorized use of magic at West."
The use of magic outside designated zones was strictly forbidden at the Academy. And yet, it happened with surprising frequency.
Students were at that hot-blooded age, and they'd just been taught how to wield power as they pleased. When fights broke out, it was common for them to escalate into full-blown Magic Duels.
It wasn't the sort of matter that warranted a report straight to the Headmaster, so Clifford found it odd.
"The students involved in the incident are first-years, sir. That's why I'm reporting it."
"Ah."
Clifford understood at once. However routine the offense, first-years were a different story.
With everything, the first time mattered. Someone was always bound to be the first to break a rule, and to set discipline firmly, the rules prescribed a punishment harsher than the standard.
Deciding that punishment was the Headmaster's prerogative. Too harsh, and it violated fairness; merely average, and it failed as an example.
"This year's batch is early enough to call it unprecedented. Report."
"I'll explain from the beginning of the incident. Catherine Oblivion, a first-year in the Magic Department, caused a disturbance at a restaurant called the Feast of Magic, and the conflict began when Luid Christopher Windsor intervened to stop her."
Clifford had been listening to the report as usual—until Luid's name made his eyes fly wide open.
"Luid? That Luid? The good-for-nothing himself?"
"...That is correct. Though Young Master Luid is hardly a good-for-nothing."
Phoenicia nodded along briskly.
"He's the headline star of our proud Imperial Academy. They're already calling him the genius of the century. Have you not heard the talk?"
The crystal orb containing Luid's dragon-summoning magic had not only fetched a handsome price at auction.
It had also been nominated for the Magic Society's Spell of the Year award. Even at the start of the month, everyone was saying Luid Christopher was a shoo-in to win. The entire Imperial Capital was abuzz with talk of Luid and nothing else.
"That boy sleeps all day long, and you call him a headline star? But anyway."
Clifford smacked the desk with a loud thwack and curled his lips into a grin.
"Didn't I tell you? I said that brat would land himself in serious trouble before long. I was already thinking it—that arrogant whelp would lose control of his own power and start flinging it around like a thug."
Great power came with great responsibility. Judging from Luid's behavior, Clifford had concluded that the boy possessed no such awareness whatsoever.
"Bring him to me at once. I shall lecture him personally."
Clifford declared it, fully intending to grind the boy's spirit into the dirt while he had the chance.
Phoenicia regarded her Headmaster with cool, salted-egg eyes.
"Young Master Luid was the victim in this incident, sir. He even made an effort—your favorite thing, Headmaster—specifically to avoid the conflict. Every testimony from the students present is in perfect agreement."
"What?"
Clifford waved his hand as if he'd heard something absurd.
"See one, know ten. You think a boy who vaporized an entire forest over a mere troll is going to live a life of restraint? And besides—there's no one at this Academy with a status higher than House Windsor. Who in their right mind would pick a fight with him? Tsk, tsk, tsk."
Clifford refused to believe a word of it. Phoenicia asked, exasperated:
"Why on earth do you dislike him so much? Young Master Luid, I mean."
"Dislike him? Who said anything about disliking him? Enough chatter—recite the incident!"
Phoenicia sighed and continued.
"...In any case, the first to use magic was the student Catherine. She launched a preemptive strike with a 3rd Tier Ice Pistol."
"Tiers—now there's a word I haven't heard in a while. And the loafer's response?"
Tiers were the old system for classifying spell formulas. In the modern era, the argument that magic could not be cleanly divided into categories had swept the old system away.
For instance, if a Great Magician cast Fireball—a 1st Tier spell—the resulting power was no longer that of 1st Tier magic.
But the language of tiers lingered still, mainly to describe old-fashioned spells that required incantations—verbal triggers. Quite a few wizarding families who had failed to move with the times still practiced them.
"Yes. In Young Master Luid's case, according to the witnesses, it appears to have been an application of the Gravity spell. Roughly 7th Tier, by the old classification."
Clifford's expression sharpened.
"And the judgment of our future Vice-Headmaster?"
"His conduct was beyond reproach. Listening to the testimonies of the students nearby, the young lady repeatedly provoked him. Young Master Luid even tried to leave his seat, wanting no part of it."
"Responding to a mere 3rd Tier spell with a 7th Tier one—do you not consider that excessive?"
"That 7th Tier spell was not aimed at a person. It was used to suppress the opposing spell. I see no problem whatsoever."
Phoenicia did not waver by a single inch. Clifford looked unsatisfied.
"Isn't it just showing off? Where on earth is there a man who needs 7th Tier magic just to block an Ice Pistol?"
"Young Master Luid is a genius. From his standpoint, casting a 7th Tier spell is as natural as breathing. I imagine it was simply easier for him."
"Heh heh."
"Hee hee."
Watching his daughter refuse to yield a single point, Clifford was half proud and half dumbfounded.
Well, if she's to inherit the Headmaster's seat someday, she ought to have that much backbone. Certainly.
As the saying goes, the elbow bends inward—he leaned a little toward the side that made him proud. But he didn't let it slide entirely.
"She's the young lady of Oblivion, you said?"
"Yes."
"Won't the nobles take the girl's side? Odds are their testimonies will be unfavorable."
"That is reckless speculation, sir."
Phoenicia glared at him.
"With that attitude, not a single case will ever be properly resolved."
"Thinking in terms of evidence is all well and good, Phoenicia, but think for yourself for once. Who in their right mind would attack that loafer with magic? It'd shatter on contact, plain as day. And how does a young lady of some minor house pick a fight with a Grand Duke's son? Repeatedly, no less?"
Clifford waved his hand dismissively.
"Make sense when you speak, girl. Some sense."
"Then what exactly do you want me to do?"
Phoenicia rounded on him as if she could bear it no longer.
Clifford barked:
"You brat! Do? What is there to do? You cross-verify, that's what! To find out what the truth is! Summon the parties involved! Starting with that young lady—Castine!"
"I know that much, thank you! And it's not Castine, it's Catherine!"
Bang. Phoenicia slammed the door behind her as she left.
Clifford stared at the closed door for a long moment, then gave an awkward laugh.
"Heh heh. That girl has a nasty temper."
Clifford remained entirely unaware that his own temper was far nastier.
**
Summoned to the Headmaster's office, Justin was gloomy. He was weighed down by guilt—he had failed to stop a fight he could have prevented.
In truth, the moment Catherine had demanded answers on the spot, Justin had tried to hold her back. He knew exactly what had happened.
Justin had sharp ears. He'd overheard the waiter apologizing at Luid's table.
But Catherine, in her fury, would not be reasoned with. Ignoring his plea to calm down and hear the story out first, she cast a body-binding spell, declaring him an obstacle.
It was a 1st Tier Binding spell. Justin, whose talent was hopeless, couldn't dispel even that weak magic.
So he'd been forced to stand by and watch it all unfold. By the time he threw everything he had into dispelling it, Catherine's spell was already flying at Luid.
...I was a fool.
At the time, all he'd been able to focus on was how Luid had disparaged Catherine's magic.
Those without strength have no worth as living beings—those words applied to him too, the Academy's weakest.
But once his emotions had settled, he'd realized the mistake was unmistakably on their side.
And yet, part of him felt something else entirely.
With that kid's skill, there had to have been a better way to handle it.
Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone gets angry, everyone misunderstands. Did it really have to go that far? No matter how furious she'd been.
"...I'm sorry."
Catherine spoke with her head bowed across from him.
"This is all my fault."
"You don't need to apologize to me, Catherine. I'm just here to give testimony."
"I was worried this might come back on you all."
Sophia shook her head.
"I'm the one who should apologize. Dragging you all somewhere you didn't even want to go..."
"You did nothing wrong, Sophia. You meant well, didn't you? ...And I share the blame too, for failing to stop it."
While the three of them were talking, the door opened.
Towering height, a stocky frame, a stubborn face. It was Clifford. Behind him, Phoenicia followed with her hands clasped politely and closed the door.
"So. You're the instigators of this incident?"
"Yes, sir."
Clifford settled onto the sofa. He placed both hands on the table and leaned his upper body in close.
"Now then. Speak."
"Pardon?"
"Your grievances. You must have some."
Phoenicia shot Clifford a look, as if he were flagrantly taking sides.
This time, she resolved, if he pushed it too far, she would stage a mutiny.
"Grievances... sir?"
"That's right. Word has it every single witness was a noble. How could any of them not be watching House Windsor's every move? Speak up. Whatever grievances you have, I shall hear them all."
"Well, Headmaster, the grievance is..."
Justin opened his mouth.
"I did not ask you."
Headmaster Clifford said it flatly. Justin flinched.
He was looking at Catherine alone.
"Speak."
"...Well."
Catherine deliberated for a moment. Should she apologize here? Or was it right to voice her side of things?
The deliberation did not take long.
"Casting the spell was my fault. But."
Catherine bit her lip.
"It was them who first insulted me—called me a Billion—without so much as admitting their own fault, while I was merely seeking an explanation."
Justin's eyes went wide.
Sh-she spoke perfectly well, so why...
He'd told her everything about the incident in detail. It really had all been a misunderstanding, he'd said—let's go apologize together afterward.
But the words coming out of Catherine's mouth now were nothing of the kind.
"Your fault? And what fault was that, exactly?"
"They pressured the waiter to bring their food before ours. I confronted the waiter about it. But that wasn't about the waiter—I said it knowing full well that Luid was listening. And he simply... ignored me."
Clifford nodded gravely, as if in deep sympathy.
"So you got angry."
"Yes. I genuinely couldn't stand it. A person is speaking right next to him, and he pretends not to hear? And then he used the fact that there was no evidence to slip cleanly out of it. Do you have any idea how infuriating that was?"
"Hmm. And so? How did the magic come into it?"
"...Because he called me a Billion. I lost my temper in the moment. I apologize."
Clifford rose to his feet, his face grave.
"No need to deliberate at length. I shall pass judgment right here."
"Headmaster...!"
Phoenicia gritted her teeth. Clifford waved his hand—no objections would be entertained.
"Catherine Oblivion."
"Yes."
Catherine looked up at Clifford with a somewhat brighter expression. She was pleased—it seemed he believed her.
"You are expelled."
"...I'm sorry?"
Catherine froze where she sat. So did Justin and Sophia.
"So the rumors contained no falsehood after all. Bah, tsk. What a waste, what a waste. And here I thought I'd finally get to thrash that loafer within an inch of his life."
Grumbling to himself thus, Clifford turned to leave with his hands clasped behind his back.
Catherine screamed, her pupils trembling:
"Y-you can't do this! Didn't you believe what I told you?!"
Clifford's footsteps stopped.
"Even if your words are true, the outcome does not change."
A flame flickered in Clifford's eyes.
"Your meal came a few minutes late, so you picked a fight? And what does that fix? Your feelings? Professors' time is wasted teaching an idiot who can't even manage basic situational judgment. I won't say it twice."
Clifford's words fell like thunder.
"You. Are. Expelled."
And without so much as a backward glance, he walked out.