2. Master Sparrow
Rusia's eyes went wide as she looked down at me.
"Can you actually talk?"
[Not talk, exactly. Telepathy.]
"Telepathy?"
[I'm sending thoughts directly into your head.]
Not perfectly accurate, but close enough.
"...That's even possible?"
Rusia asked, her face full of astonishment.
Sadly, I had no idea either.
"What are you, exactly?"
[A sparrow.]
Her eyes bored into me.
Did she find me suspicious?
"...Fine. I won't ask why you look like that. You're probably a grand mage of a caliber beyond anything I could imagine."
[I'm telling you, I'm a real sparrow.]
She clearly didn't believe a word of it.
Well, fair enough.
A wild sparrow shooting telepathy? Honestly, "perverted grand mage who turns into a sparrow because he likes being petted by high school girls" was the more believable story.
"So what's your purpose in approaching me?"
Rusia's posture turned wary.
Did she actually buy the whole grand mage thing?
[Nothing in particular.]
"...Nothing? Then why did you help me?"
[Hmm.]
That was awkward to explain.
The truth was, this was a world inside a game, I was a possessor from another world, and I intended to help her. If I said any of that out loud, she wouldn't believe a word of it.
[I want to teach you.]
I made myself look as dignified as possible.
So she's convinced I'm a grand mage turned sparrow? Then a grand mage turned sparrow I shall be.
"...Why?"
A faint crease formed between her brows.
Someone shows up out of nowhere offering to teach you—there'd better be a good reason.
What should I say?
I held her gaze and thought for a moment. There was plenty I could have told her. That she had talent. That her eyes told me so. All sorts of pleasant-sounding lines floated through my head.
[I'll be honest with you. You don't have exceptional talent.]
"..."
The kind of remark that would earn a normal person a string of curses.
But Rusia was far from normal.
[But I can tell just by looking into your eyes.]
[You're someone who works hard.]
I ruffled my feathers earnestly.
[As long as you can keep walking, you'll never stop.]
[But there will be times when that isn't enough.]
[That's where I come in. I want to be there beside you, watching you move forward.]
When I finished, a brief silence settled between us.
"...Not bad."
Rusia gave a faint smile and held out her palm to me.
An invitation to climb aboard, then.
Boing. I hopped up lightly.
"There are a lot of people around. Let's go to my room for now."
Rusia covered me with her opposite hand.
Surrounded on all sides by her fingers.
...This is nice, actually.
A little stuffy, but it felt good.
So I waited, basking in her warmth, until—
Click.
The sound of a door closing.
Were we there?
"Here we are."
Rusia lifted the hand she'd kept over me.
She could've kept it there a little longer, honestly.
[Nice and roomy.]
Either way, I took stock of my surroundings. A living room greeted us right at the entrance, a kitchen beside it, and two bedrooms. Honestly, "room" was underselling it—this was closer to a full apartment.
After surveying the place, Rusia sat down on the edge of her bed with me perched on the back of her hand.
"I have a question."
She asked in a calm, level tone.
"In your eyes, what is it I need most?"
There was plenty I could teach her. The locations of hidden pieces, how to navigate the events that would threaten her down the road. But none of that would be immediately applicable.
So instead—
[You've been practicing defensive magic, haven't you?]
"...How did you know that?"
Rusia's eyes flew wide open.
[I can read the flow of your mana. Mana that failed mid-casting leaves traces.]
Which was, of course, a lie. The flow of mana? I could sense it, sure. But not well enough to identify it as defensive magic.
It was in the original story, though.
Rusia didn't manage to cast defensive magic until at least a week after enrollment.
"Impressive that you looked into it, but I'm going to decline any instruction on defensive magic. I already know all the theory."
Rusia wasn't being prideful here. Defensive magic was so basic that even third-rate mages were expected to have it down. There wasn't much theory to memorize, and the formula arrangement was simplicity itself.
Except—
[The problem is your mana's form, isn't it? And that, I think I can fix.]
"...!"
Rusia's mana was aggressively offensive in nature. Casting a barrier required a special technique—a technique she didn't know yet.
[Try casting it first. I'll point out where you can improve.]
"...All right."
A special technique?
Truthfully, I had no idea either.
But there is that part from the original story.
Something about how she would have succeeded long ago if she'd just grasped the "form of ice" or whatever. In other words, if I dropped the single, effortlessly cool word ice, Rusia would figure out the rest on her own.
Sssaaa.
A wave of cold mana erupted from Rusia's body.
...I can see something here.
Her mana began weaving itself into a formula.
And weird stuff—crazy amounts of it—is flooding in.
A torrent of knowledge began churning through my brain. This was no ordinary defensive spell. It was a magic unique to Rusia—built on mana sharper and more aggressive than anyone else's.
C-crazy.
A bizarre formula took shape. A vast new theory was being born. And so, in that moment, a magic created for one person—and one person only—came into existence.
CRACK!
The barrier shattered.
"Can you see where I can improve?"
Rusia withdrew her mana and looked at me.
[...Freezing.]
"What?"
To Rusia, who looked utterly dumbfounded—
[Freezing magic. That's the key.]
And I regurgitated every last drop of that knowledge.
Defensive magic is a blue hexagon.
That had always been an immutable law, one that never changed.
But—
"...It's true. It worked."
The barrier Rusia cast was pure white.
And the pattern etched into its hexagonal surface was as beautiful as a snowflake crystal. It looked like a work of art.
It actually worked.
It was a spell from my own head, but seeing the real thing was something else entirely.
"Blending in the principles of freezing magic... I never thought that was possible."
Rusia studied the spell's formula with something like awe—though her face, as always, remained expressionless.
One weakness patched up.
In the original story, Rusia had only managed to cast a barrier by improvising around the concept of freezing magic. Because of that, defensive magic had been a permanent weak point of hers.
"...This formula is more stable than a standard defensive spell. The mana efficiency is higher, and it can even be converted into an offensive spell."
Rusia dissected the formula piece by piece.
No wonder she was the Academy's second seat.
"But I've never seen a formula like this. It's as if it were tailored to my mana's form from the very start...?"
At that moment, something shifted in Rusia's eyes.
"...You. Did you create a new formula? One built specifically around my mana?"
[Something like that.]
It was really just knowledge implanted in my brain, but she could call it creation if she wanted.
"...What's the price?"
Rusia asked, suddenly very serious.
[Nothing.]
"Nothing?"
[Being able to stay together from now on is enough. Master and disciple—that's exactly the kind of relationship I mean.]
"..."
Hearing that, Rusia seemed to deliberate for a long while.
Was having a sparrow for a master a bit too much?
Just as I was considering taking it back—
"...I'll call you Master from now on."
She murmured it quietly.
And abruptly switched to the honorific.
[Uh... sure?]
This was Rusia—the girl who spoke casually to everyone short of professors and instructors, seniors in her fourth year included. Yet here she was using formal speech. It felt a little awkward, but it also felt good.
"Thank you, Master."
She bowed her head slightly as she stroked me, careful and gentle.
The contradiction of the situation threw me for a moment, but—
...This is nice.
I decided to just sit still and enjoy it.
Afterward, Rusia examined the defensive spell some more.
She's cute.
At one point she even wore a look of quiet pride... or so I imagined. Rusia kept her expression perfectly calm the whole time.
She did glance at me sideways now and then, but her face stayed so frozen that I couldn't read a thing.
Is she just emotionally flat?
The original story never depicted the fine details of Rusia's emotions. You could only vaguely infer her personality from a handful of scenes.
But wow, she's studying it seriously.
Understanding had come to me in a single flash, so watching her pour hours into it filled me with a strange mix of joy and guilt.
Several hours slipped by like that.
"I'm a little tired now... Sorry, but I'm going to sleep. Good night... sleep well..."
The moment night fell, Rusia collapsed into bed.
She'd spent five hours practicing an entirely new spell and then analyzed the formula on top of that—it was a wonder she hadn't passed out ages ago.
Maybe I should take a look at my own abilities.
Partly as research for Rusia's sake, I hopped off the bed and started manipulating my mana, when—
...
My eyes kept drooping shut.
It had been a busy day.
Sleep, then.
They did say sparrows needed quite a lot of sleep. Even a Sword-Defending Sparrow would fall apart without proper rest.
Gotta sleep.
I flew back up onto the bed. A true Sword-Defending Sparrow had no need for something as pedestrian as wing-flapping.
Except—
...Where exactly am I supposed to sleep?
There was a beautiful girl in a skirt sleeping on this bed. Sleeping by her legs was morally out of the question, so by process of elimination I'd have to settle somewhere near her upper body, but—
"Snoooore..."
...Staring down at a peacefully sleeping girl's face, the framing of the whole situation felt dangerously compromising.
Fine. Floor it is.
I'd heard sparrows naturally slept perched on tree branches, so I figured there'd be no problem—
Swooosh.
The blanket Rusia was cocooned in came crashing down over me.
"Mmm..."
And just like that, I came face to face with her sleeping expression.
Yep. Yep-yep. Rusia was a spectacularly bad sleeper.
...Hmm.
Escaping now risked waking her, so I resolved to accept this fate.
Under the blanket, it was wonderfully warm.
Eyes closed, Rusia looked back on her day.
A tedious entrance ceremony. An annoying somebody. An extraordinary encounter.
It had been a remarkably memorable day—and yet her thoughts kept circling back to a single person.
Who is he?
He had kept the form of a sparrow all day long.
He had subdued an incoming Academy student with that sparrow's body.
He had even used magic to transmit his thoughts directly into another's mind.
Any one of those would have been astonishing, but he hadn't stopped there.
He looked at my mana and composed an entirely new spell.
Not over hours. Not even over minutes. In a matter of seconds, he had created magic that fit Rusia perfectly.
...He's more than I deserve as a master.
When he'd first offered to teach her, Rusia had assumed it was merely the whim of some grand mage. Her plan had been to extract a little help and nothing more.
But—
He's not just grand-mage class. He's beyond it.
Creating new magic in mere seconds. How many figures in the entire history of magic had ever accomplished such a thing? None that Rusia could recall.
Which was why she'd decided she must never, ever cross him—
...Ah.
It hit her: she'd spoken to him casually.
She had realized he was something greater than a mere grand mage and belatedly switched to honorifics, yes. But when she'd accepted his offer, she'd answered with a breezy "Not bad."
"..."
Rusia's heartbeat picked up slightly.
What if he thought poorly of her for it?
Worried, she cracked one eye open and peered at her master.
What is he doing?
He had spread his mana below the bed, then flown back up and glanced around.
Is he setting up a barrier before sleep?
That tracked, for someone of his caliber. Assassins could well be after him.
Could it be—the sparrow form was to hide his identity too...?
The thought flickered through her mind before she firmly dismissed it. There was no need to speculate further, and she sensed she shouldn't.
...Should I pull the blanket over him, at least?
Out of habit, she was still clutching the blanket to herself. As things stood, her master would have to sleep without one. She wouldn't normally trouble herself over this much—but the resolve not to provoke him any further won out.
Swoop.
Feigning a sleep-twitch, she slid the blanket to the side.
When he had stared intently at her face, she'd feared she'd been caught—but thankfully, he showed no great reaction and closed his eyes.
"Mmm..."
Only then did Rusia drift into a peaceful sleep.