Are You Trying to Tame Me?
Are You Trying to Tame Me?
"What in the...."
I stopped by the training grounds, and by the time I reached the dormitory that night, my expression twisted the moment I saw it.
Snacks, letters... that sort of clutter was piled high in front of the door. So high I couldn't even open it.
I flicked my fingers.
Telekinesis swept the mess aside in an instant. I planned to shove it all into the room first, gather it up, and throw the whole lot out later.
But one thing refused to be moved.
"...Cheeky."
It was a red envelope, floating brazenly in midair.
Only when I exerted a slightly stronger telekinetic force did it finally yield. I unfolded it in the air before me.
[ Now. ]
That was the entire message. Beneath it, however, were the official seal of the Magic Department head and the name Conet.
And the Witch of the head office as well.
"The chancellor, then."
A summons from someone of the chancellor's stature was enough to stir a measure of curiosity. I set off.
The academy buildings, bathed in moonlight, shone white.
When I arrived at the place indicated on the letter, I found myself facing a structure that resembled an enormous castle.
This entire building was a space reserved solely for the chancellor.
"Student, what business do you have here?"
At that moment, someone addressed me.
Blonde hair and a crisp suit — I knew this woman's name by now. It was Professor Audrey.
As she drew closer and confirmed my face, Audrey's eyes went wide.
"Plan? You're Plan, the student? Correct?"
"Correct."
At my reply, the gaze of the person beside her also turned toward me. Audrey was not alone.
"Well, well. Plan, the student."
It was Violet. She recognized me, the dark circles under her pointed hat looking somewhat fainter than before.
Professor Audrey asked me,
"What brings you here?"
Instead of answering, I showed her the chancellor's letter. Audrey let out a soft "Ah" and nodded.
"The chancellor summoned you.... That certainly makes sense. Ah, but, Plan."
Audrey smiled awkwardly and took a step closer to me.
"Would you consider visiting my laboratory sometime? We could have tea, discuss your career path.... Hmm?!"
At that instant, a pointed hat was plopped down right over Professor Audrey's head.
Violet spoke up, plainly annoyed.
"What do you think you're doing? With someone else's student."
"He may be someone else's student now, but who knows what the future holds?"
"The midterm evaluations aren't even over yet."
I watched the two of them talk, then dismissed the exchange with indifference.
"I'm not interested."
I had never been anyone's assistant. And that was unlikely to change.
But Audrey hastily pressed herself toward me.
"Still, please do consider it carefully. Understood? I'll escort you to the chancellor's office."
Thanks to her, I reached the chancellor's office without difficulty.
A long corridor laid with crimson carpet stretched out before me, and at its end stood a massive door of solid wood.
Before I could even knock, a voice reached me first.
"Do come in."
A languid yet alluring voice.
I opened the door with telekinesis and stepped inside.
"Indeed, you are even more impressive up close."
The woman seated with her back to the glass window offered a greeting.
This woman was Conet, chancellor of Märchen Academy.
Though she appeared youthful, the magical aura emanating from her was superb.
Her hair was white on the surface, but black beneath.
Her irises, conversely, were black at the edges and white within.
The moment I met that singular Reverse Eye—
lengths of timber assembled themselves before my eyes and took the shape of a chair.
"Won't you sit, first?"
◈
On occasion, a meeting between mages produces peculiar directions and outcomes in its flow.
It is only natural. The way such people perceive reality is wholly unlike that of ordinary folk.
And so Conet, too, quietly studied the figure of the boy who had come to her office.
Jet-black hair and jewel-red eyes.... For some reason, the combination felt familiar to her.
But—
such trifles were not what mattered right now.
The small attitudes woven into his every step, the confidence brimming in his expression — these were already far from those of a mere student.
What was more, his emotions did not yield themselves to easy reading.
She prided herself on being reasonably adept at discerning the feelings of others, but Plan was somewhat different.
His emotions seemed transparent yet turbid; the moment she tried to observe them more intently, they scattered hazily, like fog.
It was as though he were a person who possessed not even the fragments of emotion.
Her interest in Plan had deepened by another layer.
She had summoned him merely intending to treat with a somewhat promising student, but before she knew it, Conet had issued her first greeting as if she were addressing a seasoned mage.
"It is agre-eable, that you are here. This evening, I merely thought, to share a few, simple words, with you, Plan."
Conet divided her speech into precisely seven segments.
And at the same time, a gleam of interest lit in Plan's eyes.
He had realized it immediately.
One human language, five Elven languages, one Runic language — that each of those seven segments was composed of a different tongue.
'She means to test me.'
That Elves explore magic deeply was a fact hardly worth stating, and Runic was likewise necessary to master the advanced curriculum.
He understood that she intended to gauge his skill through this single exchange.
When someone probes at such a high level, it is not altogether displeasing.
If one must judge, this fell on the pleasant side. It was a first for him in this world, and moreover, the Elven tongues were no different from those of his former world.
"Even if, it is a complex, conversation, that is fine."
"Oh my...."
The corners of Conet's lips rose naturally.
Precisely eight Elven languages existed, and Plan had just replied using only the three languages she had not spoken, with perfect accuracy.
This time Plan was the one who spoke first.
"However. What is your intent?"
"Intent...? Nothing much."
Conet smiled brightly.
"The post of chancellor is, you see, a terribly lonely one. I was hoping you might keep me company."
Naturally, this was not Conet's true feeling.
Her purpose here today was to satisfy her curiosity about Plan's skill, and to ascertain the direction of his objectives.
Was he, indeed, a heaven-sent genius (天才)?
Or was he, perhaps, a heaven-sent calamity (天災)?
"That expression of Theodore's swordsmanship through magic — I observed it well."
Conet's and Plan's eyes met quietly in the space between them.
That strange Reverse Eye, iris black and sclera white transposed, fixed upon Plan as if to pierce through him.
"Seven shifts in the wave-pattern, then three transformations in the form, concluded with a Summoning-type encapsulation. Is that correct?"
The chancellor posed this question using solely the Runic tongue, and Plan once again understood her perfectly.
"That is also a valid methodology."
"...!"
A faint tremor ran through the corner of Conet's lips.
"A 'valid methodology,' you say. Was my observation in error?"
"Only the method was different."
Could it be that the observation, which had felt to her like the sole conclusion, had existed for Plan as merely one among many possibilities?
Conet blinked once.
Immediately, the entire space was dyed in darkness.
'An Observation Space.'
A domain that only mages of a sufficiently advanced rank can manifest.
Within this dark space, everything related to magic shone with fluorescence. Formulas, magic circles, circuits... it was a space that existed, as the term described, for magical observation.
'Neatly done.'
Even in Plan's eyes, the manifestation lacked any superfluity.
"How intriguing."
As Conet fixed her gaze upon the void, a formula began to sketch itself there of its own accord.
In moments, a Summoning formula of fifteen strokes, possessing a solid framework, was completed.
"Which part did you handle differently, Plan?"
"There are many possible methods."
Plan began to correct the fifteen-stroke formula.
"First, there were portions I wanted to cut away boldly."
He cut boldly, and the degree of boldness exceeded what Conet had imagined.
Once he had cut away everything he intended, a mere seven strokes remained. It was nearly the level where only the naked skeleton was left.
"...."
Conet narrowed her eyes and examined the formula.
More precisely, she observed its 'purity.'
It was no mere skeleton. The mana was extraordinarily dense, and the circuits were arranged without a single twist.
It appeared bare, yet its foundation was sturdier than anything.
"A sleight of hand, and yet not...."
Though it was a formula of only seven strokes, its purity made its outward appearance no different from that of a fifteen-stroke formula.
In that case, if this student's total mana capacity were to increase further, allowing him to fully draw fifteen strokes....
The chancellor lifted one of the strokes that had been discarded.
It was the circuit related to 'killing.'
"You excluded this one as well. I am curious as to the reason."
"Killing my opponent was not my objective."
"Very well. Then, while we are at it, let me ask just one more thing."
Conet's face grew deeply serious.
"...What if your opponent were an evil one, or a Blood Demon?"
At this, the stroke related to 'killing' was drawn back into Plan's hand.
Simultaneously, every other stroke was erased, vanishing completely.
"Only this single stroke would have remained."
"Aha. Is that so."
Conet nodded slowly. Her grave expression gradually recovered its original warmth.
The Observation Space likewise disappeared. Before the two of them, the ordinary scenery of the office unfolded once more.
"Then.... What is it that you pursue, Plan?"
"The ultimate principle of magic. And its proof."
Conet quietly watched Plan.
The fragments of emotion he possessed still eluded her full reading, but that answer, at least, she felt to be sincere.
"I have been remiss in offering you tea. Let us have a cup, even now."
"Thank you."
After a plain black tea was handed over, at some point—
"However, tea alone is rather dull, is it not? Do you know how to play chess, by any chance?"
"I do not."
I knew of chess's existence, but I had never played it. Magic had been my work, my hobby, and my repose.
"You possess some endearing corners. I am certain you will find it to your liking."
Conet snapped her fingers, and lengths of timber sprang into the air, where they were carved and worn down into a large chessboard and pieces.
"I will explain only the essentials. The pieces at the very front are pawns...."
The chancellor laid out the rules of chess with concise clarity. Plan likewise understood them all upon a single hearing.
Once her explanation was finished, Conet smiled a quiet smile.
"Good. However, everything I have explained thus far concerns the rules of ordinary chess. This is 'Agora Chess,' and so it is somewhat different."
"..."
Plan silently examined it.
At the same time, a faint interest began to settle within his eyes.
"Agora Chess. I understand the meaning of the name."
"Yes. I thought that you, Plan, would find it interesting."
Chess merely involves moving black and white pieces to determine victory, but Agora Chess possessed a depth of a wholly different dimension.
The queen corresponded to Harmonization, the knight to Destruction, the bishop to Summoning....
Each time a piece was moved, a problem from the relevant category, once posted on the Agora Board, would appear before one's eyes.
Only by correctly solving that problem could the piece finally be moved.
"Three minutes."
Conet conjured an hourglass on the spot, suspending it in midair.
"Let us play for only three minutes. It is late."
Three minutes was more than sufficient to assess an opponent's skill.
Five problems. No — solving even three would exceed expectations.
"Understood."
Plan nodded his assent.
Conet conceded the first move to Plan. Thus, Plan took white, and Conet took black.
Clack—
"...?"
From the very start, it was unexpected. Plan moved a pawn without the slightest hesitation.
A pawn carried a problem from the Malleability category of the Agora Board.
Even setting aside the category, the problems on the Agora Board were not something one could easily approach in the first place.
For the moment, Conet also moved a piece.
Clack—
Clack—
"...."
Once again, it was unexpected.
The instant Conet's piece settled on the board, Plan moved his next piece.
'Already beyond expectations, but....'
The possibility remained that he was only touching the problems he could solve. Conet moved her pieces several more times.
Clack—
Clack—
Clack—
Clack—
"Ah-ha...."
After moving exactly two more times, Conet found the corners of her mouth lifting before she knew it.
He was not merely picking out the problems he could solve. He was simply playing Agora Chess as though it were ordinary chess.
He was moving his pieces solely to win the match.
Conet's turn came again.
Deliberately taking her time, Conet stared silently into Plan's eyes.
Plan — that unflappable student, the representative who had delivered victory to the Magic Department — was staring at the chessboard and its pieces like a stone statue.
'...He said he did not even know the rules, did he not?'
His chess strategy was unmistakable.
He was taming his opponent.
It was like watching a beast-tamer at work. He read every single one of his opponent's possible moves, gradually narrowed the paths they could take, and compelled them to act exactly as he desired.
'This is his way of fighting.'
A contest between mages is not much different from chess.
You grasp your opponent's strengths and weaknesses, ascertain the magic they can use, and wage a battle of stratagems.
Clack—
Clack—
The patterns he had displayed at the Magic Sword Grand Festival were openly manifesting themselves upon the chessboard.
Any move Plan read was precisely anticipated and blocked. Conet had no choice but to attempt other moves.
No — he had already read every possible move.
He was guiding Conet to use specific moves, taming her toward a slow acceptance of defeat.
'Be it chess.... YOU would try to tame ME?'
It was delightful.
Conet found this match, her first in a long time, delightful.
In the end, even she became immersed before she realized it.
Clack—
Clack—
Clack—
Clack—
The two of them began moving pieces with mad fervor. There was not a single instant of pause or reprieve.
"Check."
The balance tilted entirely in Plan's favor. Conet evaded at once.
"Check."
Yet Plan murmured it once more, low.
"Check."
The moment she escaped, he pursued immediately.
With each move of a piece, Conet grew more disadvantaged, and Plan grew more advantaged.
In Conet's mind, the question of how Plan was solving the Agora Board problems had already vanished. Even if it lingered, she had no leisure to think of it.
"Check."
She began to move merely to evade checkmate.
But.
"Checkmate."
In the end, she could not evade.
Pop!
At the same time, the hourglass that had been floating in the air burst, signaling the passage of three minutes.
White, fine sand settled over the chessboard like snow.
"...."
Huff.
Letting out a breath, Conet spoke, her face looking more delighted than ever before.
"Oh dear, and I was sure I had won quite convincingly, you see."
Though her tone was one of regret, Conet looked more delighted than she had at any other moment.
"Congratulations on your victory."
At the same time, something came hurtling toward Plan at a menacing speed, like a throwing star.
Plan caught it without difficulty.
"This is not a gift to commemorate your victory at chess. I had intended to give it to you regardless.... And one more thing."
Conet's smile grew just a shade more vivid.
As she swept a stray hair behind her ear, she added a single remark.
"Thank you. For keeping me company today."
The chancellor's gaze as she looked at Plan was inexpressibly strange.
Rather than reply, he examined the object he had caught in his hand.
It was a sheet of pure-white paper, with nothing written on it at all.