The Dark Elf and the Examiner (3)
Just the fact that he was keeping up with her lessons was enough to satisfy Icher. She had held high expectations after hearing that the empire’s brightest children had been gathered in one place, yet they all turned out to be slaves to their grades with none of them genuinely interested in learning. Seeing the way Marei studied, however, it was clear he focused on the material itself rather than the scores, and that pleased her. Perhaps it was exactly this attitude that had led her to accept him as her disciple. It was a shame she could not teach him actual magic instead of theory. That alone left her with a faint sense of regret.
“This section… it resembles what Professor Ilien covered in her class….”
Yet he was somewhat lacking in social awareness. Or perhaps he simply did not know. Icher herself did not care much for such things, but with so many arrogant professors around, avoiding any mention of another instructor during class had become an unwritten rule. This boy seemed unaware of it.
“Magic fundamentally follows the processes of acceptance and conversion, so similarities are only natural. That part is not merely similar—it operates on the exact same principle. All magic stems from a single root, after all. Now, if you look here…”
She saw no need to correct him on every small detail. If the other professors disliked it, she would simply teach him herself. He appeared more talented than expected, and if Ilien had taken him in, the chances were high that he was an outstanding talent.
“According to Professor Idrien’s interpretation…”
“Yes, that is the correct interpretation. Wait. Idrien? Idrien Ksakru? Professor Ilien’s twin sister?”
“Ah, yes.”
At the boy’s nod, Icher stared at him in a daze.
“That ill-tempered… No, never mind. Now that I think of it—you are Professor Ilien’s disciple, yet you attend Professor Idrien’s lectures?”
“Pardon? What do you mean…?”
At the boy’s bewildered expression, Icher de Valentine let out a heavy sigh. She knew she should not sigh in front of a student, but this could not be helped. The phrase I cannot hold it in described the situation perfectly.
“…Do not tell Professor Idrien that you have become Professor Ilien’s disciple. Understood?”
“Why not?”
How tremendously fortunate this was. Ilien, who knew nothing of the strange possessiveness and obsession Idrien displayed, would never have warned her disciple to be cautious around her sister. Even Icher herself could not fully comprehend why Idrien showed such sticky affection toward Ilien. How could she possibly explain it to the boy?
“It is simply that Professor Idrien does not like it when Professor Ilien takes on disciples.”
It was clearly not a convincing explanation. Yet there was nothing else she could say. Even Icher de Valentine, who believed she understood the pair well, often found Idrien’s behavior incomprehensible. Persuading the boy with such illogical words felt impossible.
“Professor Idrien? She actually seemed pleased about it…?”
“What?”
That foul-tempered bitch? Icher barely managed to swallow the scream that surged up her throat. She looked at the boy before her once more. No—she examined him carefully.
He was a first-year, wasn’t he? A rather small boy. He had an adorable face, and his delicate features still made him look like a girl. Yes, perhaps even Idrien could tolerate someone like this. She was not so nasty as to vent her temper on a small boy who had not yet reached puberty.
Well, she was perfectly capable of it.
Icher frowned as she studied the boy. She looked him over several times, wondering if there was any trait both elves might find appealing, but nothing in particular stood out. She could at least tell that he was cute.
“How strange… That Professor Ilien took him as a disciple… and that Professor Idrien likes him…”
“Ahaha…”
Icher found herself growing curious about what kind of person Idrien was to this boy. In the past she had been a terrifying elf who strangled and threatened others, but now she had become an elf consumed by lust—craving affection while begging for stimulating play. Faced with that image of Idrien, Marei could only smile awkwardly.
Watching him, Icher wanted to ask whether he possessed a natural talent for magic, but she was not insensitive enough to pose the question directly.
“Well, let us save the personal conversation for later. There is still plenty of cake left. For now, let us examine the curse magic described on this page…”
And there was also the time. At Icher’s words, Marei nodded. The break bell had only just rung. Since the two of them had already taken a break midway, the lesson continued without pause.
The current field of black magic was a consolidation of ancient black magic, curses, and various other minor magical disciplines. Even though this was an introductory course, the textbook was more than twice as thick as the combined volumes for elemental and white magic that Marei was studying. All he could do was copy notes desperately.
Icher’s lessons were enjoyable to listen to, but the sheer volume made studying them terrifying. Just as the student he had met on the first day had warned, there was a clear reason other students avoided the class. Although the material was extensive, none of it was wasted. She did not simply read from the book; adding two or three lines of her own thoughts and annotations on every page was standard. Listening to her review earlier content or draw explanations from later sections, Marei quickly realized that merely taking notes was already pushing his limits.
It was as if she had memorized the entire book or had simply committed the lesson to memory. The way she pushed through the material so naturally and fluidly left him unable to catch his breath.
“The bell has rung, so we have a twenty-minute break~! No, that is not the right tone… Ahem. It is break time.”
At Icher’s words, Marei set down his pen and immediately collapsed onto his desk. Could he endure this? Dismal thoughts followed one after another. The amount covered in a single day was already enough to overwhelm his mind. Could he truly study all of this properly for the exam? Worry came first.
No, he was not attending class merely to take an exam. If he failed, he could simply study again. Why were such strange thoughts arising? It was a narrow-minded way of thinking. It felt as though a heavy lump of air was swirling inside his chest. When he forced himself upright and stretched, a sigh escaped along with a strange greed.
“Is it difficult?”
Icher seemed to be smiling. Only a faint outline was visible within her robe. Rather than appearing pleased, she looked self-mocking. Marei nodded. He had a mountain of questions he wanted to ask.
“Everyone said it would be hard, but I think I overestimated my own ability. Ugh… my head feels like it’s on fire…”
Icher gave a small laugh and brought out the remaining cake. Idrien had claimed it was for the two of them and left more than two slices at every break—in other words, an entire large paper bag full of cake. Icher de Valentine seemed to enjoy it greatly, but no matter how delicious the slices were, having to finish two of them every hour was somewhat painful for Marei. The habit he had kept since childhood would not permit him to leave food uneaten.
“Ah, I am full and I have a lunch appointment. Would you like to eat more?”
Marei offered the cake allotted to him to Icher. After all, he had a lunch meeting with Philia. If he kept eating cake without pause here, he would only pick at his meal, and Philia would likely become upset.
“Then I will gladly accept. It seems Professor Ilien bought this for you. I feel rather guilty… Since I cannot enter Le Maleng, it is difficult to refuse.”
Next time I will repay you with something better. Having said so, Icher accepted the cake Marei handed over with both hands.
You need not repay me… At Marei’s murmur, she shook her head.
“I will invite Professor Ilien as well, so do not refuse. Since you are Professor Ilien’s disciple, my… No. Never mind. I spoke nonsense.”
Icher averted her gaze as if flustered and picked up a plastic fork.
“Ren… No, I misspoke. Are you close with Professor Ilien?”
“Ren, you say…”
At Marei’s slip of the tongue, Icher looked at the young boy as if savoring the word. A nickname. Perhaps when the two were alone he called her Professor Ren. The fact that she had told her disciple the pet name her parents used suggested that Idrien was not simply raising a student as a pastime. She wondered whether their relationship might be slightly deeper—or rather, much deeper—but the sight of the cute boy staring at her intently made her shake the thought away. Goodness, what was she thinking? This was not a novel.
“I stayed at Professor Ilien’s house when I was young and owed her a debt. It is no more than that, so you need not concern yourself.”
If Ilien had not spoken about her, there was no need to tell this boy about herself. It seemed the child had not properly heard about her from Professor Ilien either.
“Ah… I see.”
At the cool reply, the boy nodded. Icher was beginning to like him a little. Knowing how to respect boundaries was quite difficult for a boy his age. In that case, this child was not timid but rather considerate.
“If Professor Ilien has told you, then I have nothing to say. If not, it becomes rather awkward for me as well.”
Icher smiled at Marei with the kindest expression she could manage. Then she immediately remembered she was wearing her magic robe and that the boy could not see any of her features, and let out a small sigh. This was exactly why she preferred not to speak with people.
“Ah, now that I think about it, I had so many questions…”
Seeing the boy still flipping through the book even during break, Icher leaned back against her chair. This was how a student should be. She mentally kicked away the other students who had taken notes with dead-fish eyes before fleeing. She had no interest in those who studied only for grades. Loren—that ill-tempered green dragon—might have something to say about it, but that was all. Even if this child had inherited a little of Loren’s personality, the lesson had been far more enjoyable than expected. A bright, curious student was always welcome.
“During the lecture, I was curious about the section concerning dark elves…”
She took back her previous words. Icher let out a small sigh.
“This is… simply… unnecessary.”
At the faltering voice, Icher bit her lip tightly. Perhaps her personality truly was unpleasant. That bloodline was not going anywhere. Had this boy come knowing about her? The thought crossed her mind. Icher looked at Marei, lips moving several times.
“Yes?”
Seeing the boy’s doubtful expression, she wondered how she should respond. Was it an act, or was it genuine? He might truly know nothing.
“It will not appear on the test. It is a race that hardly exists anymore… You will rarely encounter them.”
It was a pathetic excuse. She had confidently declared that one should not study with the test in mind, yet the words that had just slipped out were exactly the sort she despised most—the kind of thing those detestable types would say.
“Then shouldn’t I learn about them even more? In case I commit some rudeness…”
Icher let out a small sigh. She should have simply kept her mouth shut. She wanted to punish herself for giving such a pathetic excuse. And she wanted to trust this boy, just once.
“Have you ever seen a dark elf?”
“No…?”
Icher nodded.
“What do you think of dark elves?”
“Pardon? They are… like friends of the elves… I suppose?”
Icher let out a small laugh. The sight of the boy looking up at her with deer-like eyes left her feeling strangely refreshed.
Icher’s class was too intimate to truly call a lecture. It was more accurate to call it private tutoring. Sitting right beside him, explaining everything with her pen and checking multiple times, Marei could not shake the feeling that this was exactly the personal tutoring the other students spoke of. The problem was that the pace was even faster than before and contained far more content. The speed was on a level impossible to compare with last week’s board-written lessons, leaving him breathless.
“Um, this part…”
“I will explain it again.”
At several times the previous tempo, he had to ask questions or check constantly or he would fall behind Icher’s voice. Even when the flow was interrupted by questions, Icher kindly explained without any particular remark.
Because she sat right beside him—no, because she was writing supplementary explanations directly into Marei’s book—a refreshing scent that cleared the mind wafted from her closely positioned body. A strange sweet fragrance came from the robe, but since she was pressed so close, it could not hide the scent that seemed to rise from her skin. It was the sweet aroma like that from Idrien or Ilien’s skin. No, it was a slightly lighter sweetness accompanied by a clear scent that recalled the forest. That deep fragrance of coniferous woods in the cold northern winters.
“Are you listening? This part is important. Here…”
“I-I will focus…!”
Marei shook his head and concentrated on Icher’s explanation once more.
“The time is awkward…”
Having checked the clock, Icher let out a small sigh. It was an ambiguous time to continue the lesson. She could simply say she would end class early today, but curiosity had taken hold. A simple curiosity about Marei de Pawen, who sat right beside her, ears dyed bright red, panting as he struggled to follow the lesson.
“Yes?”
At the boy’s questioning look, she shrugged. She had known that both Professor Ilien and Professor Idrien would eventually take disciples. However, that was a matter for the distant future, and what the two researchers needed at the height of their work were research assistants, not students. For the Ksakru sisters, who stood at the peak of the academic world, mages eager to join their circle were everywhere. A mage’s disciple was nearly the same as an adopted child without inheritance rights. Since these magic-obsessed beings often did not marry, even the statement about lacking inheritance rights felt somewhat ambiguous.