Magic Practicum (2)
Nia sent a whirlpool swirling across the calm surface of the lake and retreated. Only after watching her back scramble away in a flurry did Luid feel a pang of regret.
I should have just given her one more.
He had stood guard, driving away sleep that kept coming for him, all because of the alchemy professor Richard's parting words—You'll look after the flowers for me, won't you?
He really should have just handed over one more of those. Then he wouldn't have any of these annoyances to deal with.
She won't keep coming back, will she?
"Luid, who was that girl just now?"
"Nia Lion. She's in our year."
Luid answered briefly and flopped back down onto his designated spot. Hershey settled beside him, as she always did.
"…You know the Magic Department students surprisingly well, Luid."
"She just told me all on her own."
"Are you going to sleep?"
"No, I'm awake."
Hershey's face brightened. It was rare for him to be conscious at this hour. Normally she'd watch him doze blankly on for an hour or two at a stretch. Not that she minded that either, but she was happy to actually be able to hold a conversation right away.
"Still, how unusual that a daughter of House Lion would enroll in the Magic Department."
The Lion family had served as the Emperor's personal guard knights for generations. Even their family crest was a heart shielding the imperial throne.
"We're kind of the same, though, aren't we?"
"Windsor is… well, you can't really call it just a knightly house."
"Why not? Aside from our magical steward, my family's nothing but knights."
"Hmm. If I put it the way an outsider sees it, the Duchy of Windsor feels something like Luid's own exam results, so to speak. For instance…"
The Windsor ducal estate sat at the very top of the North. The First Duke of Windsor had deliberately settled there, in a land of brutal barrenness, to live a life far removed from politics.
The climate was bitter cold, and above all, the region was a frequent haunt of powerful monsters. The Empire, forever wringing its hands over the monster hordes pouring out of the North, had absolutely loved the Windsors' choice.
The First Duke's decision had been nothing short of brilliant. A ducal house with power enough to stare down the imperial throne had stepped back of its own accord—and on top of that, single-handedly dealt with the headache that was the North's monsters. What could possibly be sweeter?
And so, not a single emperor in history had disliked the Windsors. The family's keen blade had always been pointed at the monsters of the North, never once aimed toward the Imperial Capital.
Of course, they weren't great at listening to the Emperor either, which was its own problem—but the moment the Empire truly found itself in crisis, they would lend their aid without a word of complaint.
So for generations, the emperors had taken comfort in the simple fact that such a dependable existence existed at all. It was why, every new year, they sent enormous quantities of treasure along with letters reading, You have toiled hard this year as well. I daresay I can declare with certainty that the Empire's future is bright because of the House of Windsor.
The current Emperor, in particular, was famous for occasionally stopping by the Windsors' lands to hunt, using the trips to sweat out the stress of his duties.
Rumors had spread through the Capital to the point where people said everything from The Duke of Windsor is His Majesty's closest friend in the world to The Windsor children call the Emperor 'Uncle' and dote on him, and His Majesty absolutely adores them in return.
That was why, to the nobility, House Windsor felt truly Out-of-Spec.
Having explained all this calmly, Hershey ventured a careful question.
"So there's one thing I've been curious about—do you really call His Majesty the Emperor 'Uncle'?"
"…No."
I call him big brother, actually. He'd met him in person once before enrolling at the Academy, and when he'd addressed him as 'Your Majesty,' the Emperor had gotten remarkably sulky about it.
Apparently, back when Luid was too young to know any better, he'd followed the Emperor around during his crown prince days calling him big bro.
But no matter what, he couldn't go around broadcasting that he called the Emperor 'big brother' and dragged down the man's imperial gravitas. Feeling oddly guilty for no good reason, Luid added a line.
"Don't worry about what other people gossip about, Hershey."
"…That's a very Windsor answer."
Hershey laughed sheepishly.
"A noble has to mind the rumors. For the sake of a good reputation. Although I suppose that doesn't apply to you, Luid."
But I…
Sensing the conversation turning melancholy, Hershey changed the subject.
"Which is why it's so unusual that the Lion heiress has a talent for magic."
"She didn't look all that talented to me."
Luid vaguely recalled how desperately Nia had been panting.
Hershey grumbled.
"That's only by your standards, Luid. Being able to breathe at Delin's Lake without so much as a hitch means you have genuinely good magical ability."
"…Are you bragging about yourself?"
Hershey coughed.
"…That's not what I meant. I know better than anyone that my own magic is hopeless."
"Why are you so hard on yourself?"
"There's nothing dumber than showing off your magic in front of a dragon, you know."
It was a famous proverb, and Luid fired one right back.
"Don't live like a Lion."
Despite being the Emperor's most trusted confidant, the head of House Lion held only the title of Count. Because the Lion himself had wished to remain a Count.
Thanks to that, the Lions had kept the title of Imperial Guard Knight for close to three hundred years. Hence the saying, Live like a Lion—nothing was wiser than living contentedly in one's current station.
So telling someone not to live like a Lion meant: don't be satisfied with where you are.
"You're already a fine magician, and someday you'll be an even greater one."
"…Me?"
Luid sat up.
In the original story, the broken Hershey had played the villainess for nearly five hundred chapters. She'd resisted Justin—a protagonist draped in plot armor—for all five hundred of them. And in the final moment of her fall to darkness, she'd even fought the indolent Luid to a standstill, if only briefly.
"I don't lie. What I just said isn't some cheap comfort—it's plain fact."
If she'd been that formidable even with her spirit in tatters, what about now? He had no idea how the butterfly effect would play out, but one thing was certain: Hershey's future was bright.
Luid had merely stated the obvious—
"……"
—but to Hershey, it felt as though her heart had been set warm by the fact that none other than the genius of the century had acknowledged her.
My chest feels strange.
Hershey's face flushed red. Desperate to shake off the odd feeling, she spoke in a rush.
"Oh, right. Where is my head. Did you happen to see the public notice?"
"Notice?"
"I knew it—you didn't ask for our consent first."
Hershey frowned. However far above the students a professor might stand, doing this without so much as a warning wasn't right.
"There's an announcement posted that in three days, you and Lady Amelia will be made to duel. …They said attendance is optional, but the rumors are already flying everywhere. I'm certain there's an agenda behind it."
A clash between the genius and the Sword Princess. Even she was curious; the other students would be far more so.
The problem was that there could only be one winner. …Honestly, Hershey couldn't bring herself to even entertain the thought that Luid might lose.
If nothing else, whoever lost would be gossip fodder for the Imperial Academy's students for a long while.
"I see."
Luid, on the other hand, was unmoved. This was a future that had already been written. If anything, it was Hershey he worried about.
Maybe I should have added 'don't touch Hershey' to the covenant.
After his exhibition duel with Amelia, once the practicum got underway, Justin would call out Hershey.
It would be the spark that ignited the feud in earnest. From that point on, Hershey would unravel, little by little, into a villainess in the truest sense.
Much later, after her corruption was complete, Hershey once asked Justin why he had singled her out. His answer: Because you were the strongest of them.
What a goddamn joke. He just didn't like Hershey, plain and simple.
Even accounting for the rule that you couldn't challenge someone you'd already dueled, that was a blatant contradiction. Hershey had been top of her year, yes—but she hadn't been the strongest.
He'd clearly picked her because of one hassle or another he'd had with her.
He probably wouldn't choose Hershey now, though…
Hershey and Justin had had no clashes in this timeline. She'd asked him now and then how the feather thief was doing, so it was certain.
Still, Hershey couldn't shake her unease.
"Hershey. If you had to fight a commoner with no power at all, what would you do? Say that feather thief challenged you to a duel."
"…Out of nowhere?"
At the abrupt question, Hershey pressed her lips together and gave it serious thought.
"Well, I couldn't say until the situation actually came… but I suppose I'd match myself to their level. Not using magic, for instance."
And that's exactly why you'd lose.
Luid sighed. He really needed to fix that arrogant streak of hers somehow.
"That's wrong, Hershey."
"…Is it?"
Given Hershey's personality, get cocky like that and you'll lose one day would never land. So Luid reached for a suitable justification instead.
"Being the stronger one is no reason to look down on the weak. Win with your utmost sincerity, giving everything you have. That's the bare minimum of respect you owe your opponent."
He said it with those clear, transparent eyes, and Hershey stared back as if entranced.
"Understood?"
"Ah—yes, yes ma'am. I doubt it'll ever come to that, but if it did, I'd fight by any means necessary."
"…By fair means, actually."
"Four."
Hershey's problem was that she was far too obedient.
"Um…"
Hershey asked, hesitant and careful.
"Are you going to be all right?"
"With what?"
"…Fighting Lady Amelia. Everyone thinks Lady Amelia will win, but… I don't. So what I mean is—"
Hershey faltered. The next words felt like they'd be a breach of manners.
Luid chuckled.
"Don't worry."
He had a rough idea what kind of imaginings Hershey was entertaining. But her worries were entirely beside the point.
"Our big sister is crazy strong."
What Luid was overlooking, however, was just how deep Amelia's affection for him ran.
Amelia Windsor was a knight.
A knight always respects her opponent and listens with an open ear to what they have to say. She conducts herself with courtesy and preserves her honor at all times.
It was exceedingly rare for such a woman to lose her temper. No matter what happened, she would hear the other party out calmly and weigh their circumstances with consideration.
And yet that same Amelia was, at this very moment, angry—genuinely angry, for once.
"You would have me point the sword that exists to protect my little brother at my little brother?"
Amelia slammed the notice down on the headmaster's desk hard enough to split it in two.
"It is nothing of the sort, I assure you."
"It's… just a simple duel. Surely some arrangement could be made?"
Phoenicia spoke cautiously. In truth, she found the situation every bit as awkward as Amelia did—it had been the headmaster's unilateral decision, after all.
Amelia's voice rang out, thunderous.
"I refuse!"
"W-wait, if you would just—"
Amelia made it clear she had nothing more to say, kicked back her chair, and strode out of the room.
Raise a sword against Luid?
Where in that tiny little body of his is there even a place to strike?
Amelia could not forgive it.
"…We were only just starting to get close again."
Luid Christopher. Six years her junior—her one and only precious little brother in all the world.
But things hadn't always been so good between them.
When Luid was first born, he was this tiny thing who could already talk and toddle around, and he'd been so unbearably cute that she'd doted on him endlessly. And when Luid was very small indeed, he'd followed her around devotedly.
But perhaps she'd been too overeager, because at some point Luid had started to find her a nuisance.
Amelia had her pride too, and it stung to be treated as a bother by a brother six years her junior.
And so the relationship had naturally drifted apart. The family's unequal treatment hadn't helped either—serving the tasteful food to Luid first, for example.
…It seemed absurdly petty in retrospect, but at that tender age it had mattered enormously.
Their reconciliation had come only within the past year.
Her first year at the Academy had ended, and the holiday season arrived. Amelia returned home to the estate. Their relationship had been one where they didn't even bother greeting each other—yet there was Luid, acting remarkably warm and familiar with her. He'd even begged her to come play with him.
Amelia had fallen in a single stroke. The truth was, it had only been pride that kept her from reaching out first; she had always wanted to get along with Luid.
He had been the one to gather his courage and come to her—there wasn't a single reason in the world to push him away.
She spent the entire holiday playing with Luid, and they were wonderful days. And when the break ended, they traveled up to the Capital together. She couldn't begin to describe how happy that long, tedious journey had made her.
Luid was no longer to Amelia merely a little brother who shared her blood—he had become the most precious person in her life, above all else.
…And now they wanted them to fight?
"…Just how badly do you want to see the strength of House Windsor?"
Amelia shot a murderous glare back at the headmaster's office she had just stormed out of.