A Word Repays a Thousand Taels: Celestia Erienne El Fredericia
I was the villain. In the story, I was the mastermind who sided with the Imperial Army and pretended to be an ally to the protagonist's party. So, to survive, I had to get stronger. Absolutely not because I craved more dopamine from the thrills. Nope... definitely not.
Fortunately, right now, Mariella and I could sit together like this, sipping tea and enjoying a moment of peace.
"So? What does Celi want to do?"
"I'll follow along, of course. Enroll in the Imperial Central Academy and get my revenge."
"Eung~ Celi, you're something else..."
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"No reason... it just sounds like something out of a fairy tale."
"...?"
Mariella occasionally said things that made no sense. What the heck was a "fairy tale story"? Whatever, she was the only one who knew. And she wasn't about to explain it anyway.
"What about you, Celi? Got a guy you like?"
"Pfft... cough... Why do you ask something like that out of nowhere?"
I was so caught off guard by Mariella's sudden question that I spilled a bit of black tea. Luckily, it didn't stain my clothes.
"Well, you never talk about stuff like that, Celi. Makes me even more curious..."
I couldn't exactly tell her I'd been a guy before possessing Celestia... She wouldn't believe me anyway. If she asked what kind of guy I liked, I'd say someone tall, ripped, and sexy down there. What? No such guy exists? Exactly—that's why I don't have one.
"I'm not interested in that sort of thing."
"Hee... really? Doesn't seem like it to me."
"I'm not you, Mari. You're the princess marrying the prince, or the village girl saved by the hero—it's all rumors, made-up fairy tales."
"No way! They're real stories! Maybe not the prince and princess, but the village girl saved by the hero? Totally real!"
"The hero in your stories probably isn't like the real thing... Hmm... For example, in tales, he's a romantic who only has eyes for one woman. In reality? A total Casanova sleeping with every girl he meets. I guarantee it."
There was no actual "hero," but the original protagonist filled that role, so basing it on him... Well, his heart was in the right place, but let's just say Casanova doesn't even begin to cover it. The guy's got sins piling up. He makes countless women cry, pits them against each other—and acts like he has no idea. Or maybe he's just playing dumb...
"No way... In fairy tales, the hero only looks at one girl..."
"Whatever, does it matter? Heroes are public property anyway. No risk of dying from overwork since they're the hero. Perfect world where no one gets hurt."
"Overwork death...? What's that?"
"It's a thing, Mari. A bit too advanced for a pure girl like you."
"...?"
I finished the rest of my black tea and picked up a sweet macaron. I never used to like sweets much, but since becoming Celestia, they've grown on me. Without these little stims, I'd probably go insane... This world without TV, internet, or games was boring.
"Still, I'm jealous of you, Celi... I've got three swordsmanship teachers. But they're all boring and dull. No chance to learn magic either... So frustrating."
"Your teachers don't just take a massive dump and run off, do they?"
"Eugh... Gross... First time hearing that? Does Celi's teacher just poop anywhere?"
This is why pure girls are... She doesn't even get the slang for "shitty teaching." Well, that's fine. I'll teach her step by step.
"Pretty much. My teacher just dumps and—"
"There you are?"
Just as I was about to explain what kind of guy Edn was to Celestia, an uninvited guest's voice cut in. I turned, and sure enough, there stood the mighty Apprentice Mage, Cedric Orpheus El Fredericia.
Mariella stood and bowed politely at the sight of him.
"Pleased to meet you, Cedric Orpheus El Fredericia. I'm Celestia's friend, Mariella Yulisis El Raiklant."
"I don't care about the Raiklant muscleheads."
Cedric glanced at Mariella, then turned away and strode toward me. He slammed his palm down hard on the table with the macarons. One rolled right off the plate.
Ah, my macaron...
"Why are you here?"
"Got good news for you. I'm taking over as your magic teacher personally. Father's taking special measures for his incompetent daughter. Got it?"
"Apologize."
"What?"
I swallowed my rage while staring at the fallen macaron. That thing was expensive... Wasting food like that. If you're gonna do it, at least give me an allowance.
"Celi? I'm fine! I know your family doesn't get along...!"
"Brother dear. You're going to be my teacher? Can you take responsibility for that?"
"What? As if I'd take responsibility for trash like you? Training starts now. Get up."
Cedric smirked viciously as he spoke. He cracked his knuckles with a series of pops, rolled his neck, and grinned.
"So you're not going to apologize after all."
A quick glance showed Mariella looking touched for some reason. No idea why she had that expression, but I was getting an apology out of Cedric for stealing my macaron.
"You should apologize to me. You think you can drag down my future as a great mage without saying sorry?"
I quietly pulled out the wooden sword from under the table. I stepped back a bit, then pointed it at him.
"I don't need a teacher weaker than me."
"Ha...! Think you're hot stuff just 'cause you're a Fredericia? I'll give you points for that. But you, an apprentice mage, beating me?"
True to Fredericia form, Cedric took the bait without hesitation. Good—talking was easy today. Felt like we were actually communicating for once.
I twirled the sword and closed my eyes.
"I'll take you on with my eyes closed."
"With that stick? And eyes shut?"
"Guess you haven't been paying attention. This is how I fight."
"Come at me, you disgrace to the family. You'll regret underestimating me."
Cedric launched a barrage of Fire Bolts—what a mage would call "jabs." But they were too slow. Even shotgun-style, bouncing them all was way easier than deflecting Edn's single strike.
Each bolt had slight differences in speed and trajectory, so with minimal sword movement, I parried them all.
Bang!Bang!Bang!
The bolts exploded on impact with my blade. Smoke filled the air once I deflected the last one.
"Too strong from the start? Kinda anticlimactic."
"What?"
"...!"
He must've thought the smoke meant he'd won. I strolled right through it. Cedric raised his lip in a cocky shout.
"Nice! Points for you, disgrace!"
"Got some confidence, huh."
Whoosh!
"...!"
I closed in on the cocky Cedric at blinding speed. He tried to backpedal too late, stumbling instead. I appeared right in front of him and swung the sword down from overhead.
"Hup!"
He threw up a magic barrier mid-swing, but it shattered instantly. His face twisted in complicated emotions—like he'd been tricked unfairly.
"Guess no apology after all."
I'd honestly considered letting it go if he apologized. A macaron was worth that much. This was all on him.
Crack!
I smashed the wooden sword into Cedric's head. It sounded like a melon splitting.
Whew. Brutal.
In magic-less modern Korea, that single blow would've killed Cedric. A cracked skull like that? No surviving. And if he did, it'd be too gross—better put him down for sure.
But Cedric didn't die. This wasn't magic-less Korea, after all. Mariella had cast a recovery spell just in time to save him. And thankfully, he wasn't mangled enough to need killing again.
Mariella's competent... I thought she was just a whiny girl bored with swordplay and fangirling over fairy tale princesses...
"Mari, you're amazing."
"Th-that's nothing. If it'd been worse, even I would've struggled, but this? I learned it on my own..."
Mariella smiled sheepishly. I thought it was impressive. I'd held back on the force, but I'd still hit him hard.
"Th-thanks for earlier, by the way."
"For what?"
"Making him apologize. You did it for me, right?"
"Oh yeah, the apology... Thanks for the reminder, Mari. Time to wake brother dear."
"Huh?"
I kicked the lying Cedric a few times. He finally opened his eyes and staggered up. Spotting my face, he froze.
"Now, apologize."
I pressed the wooden sword to his throat with a faint smile—eyes still closed. His face went pale.
"W-wait! I lost! Stop!"
"That's not an apology."
I raised the sword, and Cedric finally flattened himself, rubbing his palms together in plea.
"My bad! I'm sorry!"
"Sorry for what?"
"Insulting your friend—sorry!"
Crack!
I smashed his head again. He still didn't get what he'd done wrong.