I'm Quitting the Academy.
Amelia sat slumped at her desk, looking utterly wretched.
The skin that was usually so dewy and fair had gone dull and dry, and heavy dark circles shadowed her eyes. It was all because of that 'incident' Irene had warned her about before leaving—because of it, she hadn't slept properly in nearly five days, hadn't even been able to go home.
Maybe I'll just close my eyes for a moment.
Most of the work was finally sorted out. All that remained was waiting, and so Amelia allowed herself, for the first time in ages, to reach for a proper nap.
"Commander! We have a problem!"
But before her eyes could even close, the shout snapped her upright in her chair.
Gilbert burst through the door as if he'd kicked it off its hinges, gasping for breath.
"Prince Luid! Your brother, Commander—!"
Amelia's drifting eyelids flew wide open. She shot to her feet.
"Wh-what happened to Luid? What did he break this time—while he was sleeping, again?"
Gilbert swiftly drew something from his sleeve and pulled it taut.
Preeeeeng.
With a riotous pop, a flurry of colored paper came fluttering down over Amelia's head.
It was the so-called Surprise Party Popper, a cheap artifact commoners mostly used on birthdays.
"……"
Amelia's brow twisted with an audible crack.
Gilbert flinched and hurried to explain.
"C-congratulations, Commander! Your younger brother has achieved something truly remarkable. Why, they say he caught a dark mage!"
"A dark mage?"
"To be precise, one of their minions, Commander. The investigation revealed it had been slumbering inside the Academy for ages. If you go to the plaza around Every Library, you can see the minion Prince Luid sealed with your own eyes. Haha!"
Gilbert beamed brilliantly, but Amelia did not smile back.
"…Haha."
Gilbert's face went rigid, and he stiffened into a formal stance.
"I apologize."
"…Sir Gilbert. If a boy five years our junior is snatching the prey right out of our hands, you ought to be ashamed."
Amelia sighed and flipped through her documents.
"Luid is not some fairy who erases our failures with magic. Do not bother him with this. Seal off Every Library immediately and bury the whole affair."
Luid had already been growing disillusioned with the Academy as it was. Amelia knew him well. Push that boy too hard, and he would simply run away.
Besides, this was already a case they were chasing—the existence of a suspected dark mage committing crimes across the Imperial Capital.
Yes, pride did swell a little at what Luid had accomplished. But the shame was far greater, and a cold dread crept over her at the thought of this reaching Irene's ears.
Because Irene would surely say—
There was no doubt in Amelia's mind.
"Er… that, that might be difficult, Commander."
Gilbert dabbed at the sweat on his brow with a handkerchief.
"The rumors have already spread like wildfire through the Academy. And above all, it's far too… public to hide."
"Public, you say?"
"Yes, Commander. The original Every Library has been destroyed, and it now stands sealed with a spear driven into thin air. Anyone who so much as walks past can see it."
Amelia's eyes trembled with unease.
"Then… what is the Academy's response?"
"I believe they intend to issue an official statement. The magical academia is demanding he come forth and account for himself—it's absolute pandemonium…"
"Wh-what?"
"It's a great magic, you see. From what I hear, it's on an entirely different dimension from anything that came before."
Gilbert faltered mid-sentence. Amelia's expression had turned positively grim.
"That's… a good thing, isn't it?"
Amelia raked both hands through her hair. Cold sweat trickled down her neck.
Delhin's Lake was, for all practical purposes, Luid's private estate.
It stood apart from the outside world, and the only people who came and went were family. And yet now, that personal sanctuary was being invaded.
Clifford stood with his hands clasped behind his back, delivering a lecture.
"You loafer. This affair has grown far beyond something we can wave off as a prank. Get to the bottom of it properly. Dark mages are an evil that has no right to exist."
That the Headmaster had come all the way to Delhin's Lake to harangue him was stressful enough, but Luid at least kept up the barest courtesy.
"I'd found a nice spot and was sleeping, and someone attacked me. I just reacted on instinct, that's all."
"That magic? You cast that magic in your sleep, you say? Don't spout nonsense. To weave a spell that flawless requires a minimum of a week's preparation. Call yourself a genius all you like—no one defies the laws of magic."
Clifford's voice was grave and cold.
"Which means only one thing, you loafer: you knew in advance that the dark mage's minion would appear."
"I didn't know, I told you."
Luid's head was beginning to ache.
It had been like this the whole time. He told the truth, and they simply refused to believe it.
He could guess what had happened. His magic had resonated with the Chalice of Mana, its infinite power manifesting—which would explain why the spear had sustained itself without breaking.
Do I really have to explain even that?
If he did, it would only spiral: How did you find the holy relic in the first place? Were you hiding it? Prove it.
They would unquestionably make his life harder, exactly that way. And why, in the world, should he have to hand over the conclusions of his own reasoning? That was what investigation was for. If they couldn't figure it out themselves, that was a failure of competence, plain and simple.
"…I'm not trying to scold you, Luid."
Clifford bent down, bringing his eyes level with the sulking boy.
"That is precisely how grave this matter is. If you find it difficult to answer questions about the magic itself, then answer me only this one thing. Where is the dark mage?"
Luid gazed blankly at the sky.
The sun. And two moons. One of them was visible even now—that alone told him the date.
It was about half covered.
Which meant the time had not yet come. And it meant there was nothing he could tell them.
"I really don't know. Please just go now."
"…Then at the very least, tell me only what you do know."
Luid pressed his lips shut. It had been the same refrain over and over. Every time he spoke the truth, they twisted it—so you did know something, didn't you?
God, I hate this.
His chest felt tight, and his head throbbed.
Luid wanted to rest. To think of absolutely nothing at all.
And yet they kept dragging him back into thought, again and again.
This entire situation was the stress. He wanted out of it, as fast as possible.
Clifford studied him for a long moment, then lowered his voice.
"It seems you've misunderstood something. This is a matter of an entirely different order. Dark mages throw the world's very order into chaos. To conceal what you know is to make yourself an accomplice—surely even you grasp that much?"
Clifford's rhetoric was suffocatingly coercive.
He had occupied the Headmaster's seat for decades. When your opponents were students, this method was simply the most efficient.
"If you are nobility, then discharge the duties of nobility. Born luckier than others, given an easier life—responsibility is the price of that, boy."
To Luid, it sounded exactly like if you've possessed yourself of the world's strongest being, then act the part.
Stung? Irritated? Perhaps both.
For the first time since he had possessed this body in this world, Luid felt genuine anger rise in him.
"And the commoners?"
"What was that?"
"The Academy is supposed to be equal, isn't it? So they strip away the nobles' privileges, and then demand the commoners shoulder the duty instead?"
"It's four years—four years, nothing more. You cannot endure even that brief window of unfairness? A grand noble like you will graduate and lounge through life on your name regardless. Walk even a little while in their shoes, and one day that experience will become flesh and blood to you. A priceless lesson."
Luid had been born in a democracy.
He knew better than anyone that the First Emperor's edict—let there at least be equality within the Academy—had been a radically progressive idea for its time. To the caste-bound people of this era, equality might be dismissed as drivel. But it was one of the precious few correct answers humanity had ever found.
And yet he could not stomach the Headmaster's logic.
Great power demands a great price? Then you must give for the sake of others?
Fine. He could accept that, in a sense.
Truthfully, Luid himself had wanted to shield people from truly catastrophic dangers.
Because he could, and because it cost him nothing.
But the moment someone else demanded it of him, it made his blood boil.
"And another thing, you brat! Haven't you already lived selfishly enough? You skip every class, you take whatever you want and live however you please. Can you not give, just this once? Take command of an investigation team. When it comes to unearthing the truth of the dark mage, no one alive possesses talent like—"
At the word investigation team, something inside Luid's chest snapped clean through.
"No."
"Wh-why, you insolent—!"
"Why should I have to?"
"Dark magic invites ruin as surely as night follows day! Would a mage—one who wields magic—deny that very truth?"
World order. Peace. Whatever.
Luid couldn't have cared less why he should have to mind any of that.
His inner peace mattered more. And right now, that inner peace was under siege.
"Catching dark mages isn't my job. I'm a student. Protecting students from dark mages is the Academy's responsibility. Do it yourself. You're a Great Magician, aren't you, Headmaster?"
And honestly—even if he didn't know exactly what that thing had been, if not for him, a catastrophe would have swept through this place, just as the old man said.
And hadn't he stopped it?
Then he'd helped. Enough was enough. Demanding more than that was simply greed.
Luid's blue eyes fixed themselves on Clifford.
"Don't take kindness for a entitlement, Headmaster. And… you've helped me make up my mind."
The words burst out of him in a flash of temper—and yet they were words he had been holding in his chest for a very long time.
"I'm quitting the Academy."
Luid felt he had endured a great deal.
Simply watching the commoners' insolent words and behavior had been a source of stress in itself.
Disgusts of every flavor flew through the air on any given day.
The commoners were never anything but full of complaints. And the Headmaster was no different—that old man barking like a drill sergeant every time he opened his mouth made his skin crawl.
Luid hated loud voices. Whenever he met someone like that, the urge to cast a Silence spell on them seized him so fiercely it was all he could do to resist.
And yet he had endured—because the blade of that disgust had never once pointed at him.
He had always stood one step back, watching from a remove. Even when someone drew his aggro, a single crease of the brow was the most it ever cost him.
But the moment that loathing turned its edge on him—
"I've had enough of this."
He was simply done.
Now he understood, at last, why the original story's Indolent Luid had guarded Delhin's Lake from outsiders so ferociously.
The boy had known. Known that other people were hell.
Luid told Hershey everything.
That he was leaving the Academy.
That he had endured as much as he could endure, and it still wasn't enough.
As she listened, Hershey's eyes flickered, trembling faintly.
"Tell Amelia too, for me."
Luid was not wearing his Academy uniform. He was dressed in a loose, rumpled robe.
"L-Luid…"
Tears welled at the corners of Hershey's eyes.
"Must you really go?"
"…Why are you talking like this is the last time we'll ever see each other?"
Luid reached out and gently wiped the tears from her eyes.
"But—but… you're going back to the North, aren't you?"
"Nope."
"…Pardon?"
"I'll be staying in the Imperial Capital. I have a villa here, as it turns out."
Hershey gave a small sniffle, and the tears stopped at once.
"You're… not returning to the North?"
Luid nodded.
"Amelia's here. She'd be sad if I left."
Hershey was a good friend.
Amelia was family.
And so Luid wanted to stay here, at least for a while.
The North could wait—it wasn't going anywhere.
"In exchange, though."
There was not a trace of regret in leaving the Academy behind.
But one thing weighed on his mind: Hershey. Amelia was strong enough to look after herself, but in the original story, Hershey was the girl fated to become a villainess and meet a ruined, wretched end.
Luid held out the fox.
"I'm lending her to you."
[Y-yes?!]
Miho's head whipped toward Luid in alarm. He stared steadily back at her.
"You protect Hershey."
[That's hardly difficult, but…]
"Don't want to?"
[No! Hershey is kind to me too.]
Well then. Let's at least set up the bare minimum of safeguards.
"Luid…"
Hershey looked up at him with glistening, moved eyes—like a doe's.
"With her with you, finding me will be easy. We're connected, after all. Tell Amelia that too."
Hershey accepted the fox into her arms and nodded. Then, carefully, she asked:
"…May I come visit you?"
"Yeah. Anytime."
Hershey's whole face lit up.
Luid waved his hand at her.
"Bye. See you soon."
"Yes!"
His departing steps were light.
Just before he passed out of the Academy's gates, he turned to look back one last time.
Go stew in your regrets, you old fossil.