The Dark Elf and the Inspector (2)
As expected. It seemed Marei’s intuition that Icher wanted cake had been exactly right. He could practically feel her savoring each bite of the slice through the robe. She was even humming softly through her nose, completely absorbed in the dessert, and the sight of her fixed, focused posture made Marei smile despite himself.
“Would you like some of mine as well?”
“Ah, well… I mean… is that really all right?”
Even though she had clearly finished her own cake, the way Valentine brought the cream-smeared fork to her lips made Marei unconsciously hand over what remained of his slice. The inside of the robe was enchanted to appear pitch black, yet when he looked closely he could make out a faint silhouette. He couldn’t see her clearly, but even that outline alone told him Icher had to be an extraordinary beauty.
They had waited for the male student who had visited last time while sharing the slice of cake, but he never appeared. If Marei had seen him several times he might have remembered the name, yet because they had only met once, even the boy’s face had grown hazy in his memory.
“…It seems he isn’t coming. Let’s begin the lesson.”
Icher, who had been staring at the door, finally gave up. She cleared the table and picked up the chalk. Marei opened his textbook and prepared to take notes, but suddenly Icher sat down right beside him.
“Since it’s just the two of us, writing on the board would be inefficient. I’ll teach you directly.”
Professor Valentine took a pen from her own book, placed it beside Marei’s, and began explaining magic step by step.
“The term black magic is extremely broad. It includes curse techniques, bloodline-specific spells, and the like. Essentially, it’s a collective name for various non-mainstream forms of magic.”
Marei nodded lightly. He recalled the lecture Illien and Idrien had given on the differences between white magic and elemental magic. It seemed mages were quite dissatisfied with the way magic was divided into three categories.
“Most people associate black magic with curses or necromancy. In truth, however, the majority of black magic consists of spells unique to certain races.”
The blood mysteries used by vampires, the fire-manipulating arts peculiar to dwarves, the body reinforcement techniques of the beastkin, the inscriptions of orcs—all of these were strictly categorized from a human perspective.
Yet—
“Why isn’t the spirit magic that most elves use considered black magic…?”
“Well… perhaps it’s one of those matters that only adults understand.”
Icher smiled. Or at least, the faint outline beneath the robe looked as if it were smiling.
“When you hear the word elf, Pawen, what comes to mind?”
“Elves…?”
Naturally, the Ksakru sisters appeared in Marei’s head. The image of them sprawled across the bed, drenched in semen and barely able to breathe, sent blood rushing straight to his lower body. When his face flushed and he couldn’t answer, Icher chuckled knowingly.
“You’re thinking of Professor Illien, aren’t you? It’s true her image is the most common one—beautiful, kind, talented…”
There was real strength in Icher Valentine’s voice. As though proud of the existence known as Illien Ksakru, she straightened her back slightly and exhaled with clear pleasure.
“Now that I think about it, you said you were her disciple. She’s fond of students, yet I heard she had no intention of taking any disciples…”
“Ah, yes…”
Marei felt Icher’s peculiar gaze sliding over him, as if she were evaluating him. It felt like standing before a panel of judges, uncomfortable yet strangely anticipatory.
“Returning to the topic. The image of elves is overwhelmingly positive among humans, isn’t it? Even before the continent was unified, there were villages that worshipped them as sacred… During the Empire’s unification war, they stood with the victors.”
“Yes. I heard it’s connected to Governor-General Valter.”
Icher let out a small sound of admiration. She leaned back in her chair and studied Marei, looking thoroughly entertained.
“That’s right. You did say you were the Governor’s grandson.”
The pen in Icher’s hand spun in smooth circles. It traced a steady orbit between her index and ring fingers, brushed across her thumb, then slipped between the two fingers again. Though Marei knew he should be looking at her face, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the white-gloved hand.
“Even when the Demon King invaded, the elves stood beside humanity. And long before that. In countless tales, elves have always been at humanity’s side. Unlike the dwarves or beastkin who would cling to them during great crises only to drift away again.”
During the racial wars that erupted amid the continental conflict—the frenzied battles between dwarves and beastkin—the elves had still sided with humans. That was why the Empress had recognized the elves’ territory. According to Labella, there was a region west of Valter known as the Great Forest. Its true name was the kingdom of Elvenheim, a vast woodland several times larger than Valter itself—something most people could scarcely imagine.
“Humans with the right talent can use the beastkin’s body reinforcement, dwarven fire, or vampire blood magic. Just as few are suited for spirit arts, the others are similar. Yet no humans learn them. They believe it’s impossible. Hardly anyone even knows this is possible.”
“People can use them too?”
Icher nodded as though it were obvious.
“I’m not a vampire, yet I can use their unique blood magic. Not the counterfeit version derived from necromancy that creates blood spears or makes corpses explode, but genuine blood magic. It’s a kind of talent.”
Was Icher even human? Marei gazed at the woman wrapped in the robe. She didn’t feel human. An unfamiliar body scent wafted from her—similar to the refreshing fragrance of the Ksakru sisters, yet somehow different.
“It’s not that unusual. I once saw families near the beastkin border villages that could use body reinforcement. I don’t know if they’re still there. I’ve also met humans who could wield dwarven fire—they had grown up among dwarves.”
“Wow…”
At Marei’s amazed reaction, Icher laughed softly. Her voice now reached his ears clearly from within the robe. It resembled the stiff, low, husky tone Labella had used when they first met, yet it was gentler and softer. Of course, these days Labella’s voice when she called his name had grown so sweetly intoxicating it could melt his ears…
“If you consider that the term blue blood for noble lineage existed until just a few years ago, it suggests these special talents have a genetic component. Especially when you look at Labella de Pawen… Ah, pardon me. I ended up using your mother as an example.”
Icher scratched her cheek, looking troubled.
“It’s not a bad story. It’s fine.”
“I’m glad it doesn’t offend you. When explaining this, there’s simply no better example than Labella de Pawen. Whenever people speak of genius, her name is never far behind.”
Marei didn’t know the details, but he nodded. He understood that Labella was an extraordinary person, yet what he felt with his own skin was the partner who always embraced him warmly. No—he shouldn’t use that word. She was his mother, after all.
“There’s a saying about dragon blood. In legends, heroes who slew evil dragons and were bathed in their blood gained skin as hard as steel and sharper eyesight. The conversation has drifted into strange territory. Still, the idea that talent—genetic talent—clearly exists is what matters. That’s why there are humans who can wield magic, swordsmanship, body reinforcement, and spirit arts. And at such powerful levels.”
“Body reinforcement…?”
He thought he might have heard that Labella could handle spirits. Or perhaps not. But the fact that someone could use the beastkin’s body reinforcement was news to Marei, so learning that Labella could do it was a complete surprise.
“You didn’t know? Ah, this is… Tsk. To be honest, I once fought Labella de Pawen. It was in Elvenheim, and she used body reinforcement.”
“This is the first I’m hearing of it…”
“Since I lost, there’s no need to pay it any mind. Even though we fought, it was closer to a spar. There were no hard feelings between us.”
Don’t worry about it. Icher answered briefly. Come to think of it, when the class schedule was being arranged, Labella’s opinion had carried significant weight. At the time she had seemed quite fond of both Icher and Lee Ha-eun. Perhaps Lee Ha-eun knew Labella as well. Or maybe Labella simply didn’t remember. Marei couldn’t know everything about her. Of course he knew that if he asked, Labella would tell him anything, yet hearing others speak about her still filled him with inexplicable irritation.
Marei let out a small sigh. Icher called his name in alarm before pressing her lips shut.
“I’m not angry or frightened. It’s all right.”
“I see.”
Icher nodded. Marei wasn’t angry with Icher Valentine. Strictly speaking, he was angry with himself—for this sticky possessiveness toward Labella. No, lately he had been thinking a great deal about possessiveness in general. He clearly remembered how furious he had become with himself yesterday upon seeing the mature side Illien had shown to Idrien. He was simply frustrated with his own inability to abandon the obsession that he must know everything.
“The mood has grown heavy. Let’s take a short break.”
When Icher stood up abruptly, Marei panicked and caught the hem of her robe.
“C-Cake? Would you like more cake?”
“…Yes.”
Icher let out a small sigh and nodded.
“Actually, I’m an adopted son, so I don’t know much about my mother. It hasn’t been long since I was taken into the family.”
Marei knew more about Labella than anyone alive—how many sensitive spots she had, her erogenous zones, exactly how she liked to be kissed, the way her asshole would twitch every time he gripped her breasts tightly and thrust into her from behind. He knew every obscene, secret side of her. Yet when it came to what kind of person she was or how others perceived her, he knew even less than strangers.
“…That was rude of me. I’m sorry.”
Icher leaned back in her chair, looking drained. She swallowed the sigh that escaped through her robe, paused for a moment, then answered.
“No. Why would you apologize, Professor? I’m very happy to have been adopted. I’m not ashamed of becoming her adopted son at all.”
Things he could never have imagined while living in the village near the barrier kept happening without pause. Marei had already become thoroughly intoxicated by days drenched in lustful, perverse acts he could never speak of to others.
“That’s a relief… Now that you mention it, I think I did hear something. I lacked consideration. I apologize. Who would have thought the great Labella de Pawen would take in an adopted son… I met her in Elvenheim several years ago, and the impression was so intense that my sense of time has become strangely vague.”
I’m not very good with words, so I don’t know how to say this properly. Icher let out a short sigh. Marei could only wave his hands and insist that it was truly all right. Since he wasn’t good with words either, he had no idea what to say in this situation. The more he listened, the more certain he became that Icher de Valentine was not human. Yet she didn’t seem like a vampire or an elf either. A beastkin, perhaps? No, that didn’t fit. He couldn’t sense any of that distinctive wildness.
“Shall we resume the lesson soon? Or would you prefer to rest a little longer?”
Icher Valentine, having finished the cake, carefully set down the plastic fork. Although it had been delicious, eating cake consecutively felt somewhat burdensome to Marei, so he had yielded both slices to her. She had already devoured two pieces but still seemed to want more. His gaze drifted to her white gloves. Why did she cover her entire body so completely? The spotless gloves made her seem fastidious, yet that didn’t appear to be the reason.
“Shall we rest a bit more…? Would you like more cake?”
“Thank you.”
It seemed Icher was smiling. Marei wanted to see the face beneath the robe. What kind of person was she? Curiosity pressed heavily upon him. Still, he didn’t want to satisfy that deep curiosity by questioning someone who was deliberately concealing herself.
“Now, let’s begin the class in earnest.”
It hadn’t even been an hour yet. The awkward atmosphere and the cake made both continuing the lesson and taking a break feel equally difficult.
“Pay attention. I’ll be picking up the pace from here.”
“Yes!”
Direct instruction was inevitably several times faster than writing on the board. Especially since Icher’s classes were notorious for their already rapid pace and relentless coverage of difficult material, Marei’s hands never had a moment’s rest. Writing down what she dictated, checking his understanding in between, then writing again—it was all he could do to keep up. The class moved so overwhelmingly fast that no idle thoughts could intrude.
If he had only taken magic classes from Icher, he would have been clutching his head and groaning long ago. Fortunately, the subtle overlaps with the Ksakru sisters’ lessons allowed him to follow along.
Watching the boy concentrate hard on taking notes, Valentine gave a small nod of approval.
I’m not sure if he’s at the level for big sister Illien to take as a disciple, but he’s not bad.
His intelligence was decent. Come to think of it, she had heard he was from a distant branch family. Looking at his hair color, he clearly hadn’t inherited the dragon blood. Even if his magical talent was still unknown, he was quite an excellent student when it came to absorbing knowledge and connecting concepts from different fields.