Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Entrance Ceremony
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The path leading into Aphria Academy was lined with street trees. The petals of the trees stretching along both sides of the road were a pale pink. They were cherry blossoms.
A breeze blew, scattering the cherry blossoms in a flurry.
As I walked along the tree-lined path covered in petals, my shoes suddenly caught my eye.
Glossy navy dress shoes.
Master had bought them for me, saying something like, "What kind of shoes are those for going to the academy?" They felt so unfamiliar that I kept glancing down at my feet.
'Feels like I can't get them dirty.'
The shoes I used to wear were combat boots.
Boots reinforced with dozens of spells to cross the swamps of the demon realm, plated with iron to gain even a slight edge in battle.
Compared to those...
"...You don't have to walk so carefully. They won't crease or wear out. Just hurry up and walk properly."
"Ahaha..."
I gave a wry smile and followed behind Master. Something felt off in this peaceful atmosphere. My nape itched uncomfortably.
'Why the hell do I keep imagining the demon army jumping out?'
Such thoughts kept creeping in.
Those lunatics always had to smash anything beautiful to feel satisfied, and they loved ambushing during festivals like this.
Of course, my head knew nothing like that would happen.
This was right in the heart of the capital.
Countless knights were standing by.
There was no way the demon army would show up here. Even knowing that, I was gripped by pointless tension.
Out of habit, I fiddled with the spells stocked in my fingers. Rubbing them together to confirm I had enough stored eased my mind a bit.
'This is a sickness too.'
I gave a wry smile.
I'd wandered battlefields for about five years.
Just a fifth of my life.
Yet those five years had ingrained sensations in me that made the familiar feel alien.
'Feels like I don't belong here.'
Sighing like that as I walked, I'd arrived at the academy's main gate before I knew it.
"Hold up for a moment."
Master, who had stopped right at the gate, turned back to me.
I met his eyes. Soon, he spoke.
"You'll be standing on the platform with me, so head to the waiting room and wait there. Come out when your name's called."
"Yes."
"I'll be meeting with the dean to prepare..."
Mid-sentence, Master stroked his chin.
Then he looked at me and blurted out.
"Your nape looks bare."
"Pardon?"
"Your robe looks disheveled too."
Did it? I was sure I'd straightened it properly.
Still, it didn't seem satisfactory to Master's eyes, as he beckoned me over.
"Come closer."
As I took a step forward, Master reached out.
"Raniel."
"Yes."
"Once you pass through that gate, I won't be calling you by your name for a while. It'll be Lania. And I'll treat you accordingly."
His wrinkled fingers smoothed my crumpled collar. He untied the loosely knotted robe sash and retied it properly.
"So, Lania."
Master looked at me.
"Straighten your shoulders. Why are you hunching over already?"
His hand tapped my shoulder, and I gave a wry smile.
"Master, your language has gotten rougher."
"I've always been rough."
"True, who did I learn it from?"
"You never let up, do you?"
Master gave a wry smile.
Then he pulled something from his pocket and placed it in my hand.
"You left this behind."
"......"
"Your nape looked bare. Why not wear this at least?"
I silently stared at what was in my palm.
The familiar texture, weight, size.
It was the badge I'd taken back from Rephe.
"Keep your shoulders straight, you hopeless disciple."
Maybe it really was.
I gripped the badge tightly with a wry smile.
"Yes, Master."
2.
The Cradle of Stars, Aphria Academy.
The academy buzzed with people gathered to admire the geniuses entering this era.
-That's the northern...
-The Ashen child the dean recommended so highly is here too...
A step away from such murmurs.
-Look over there.
-Crimson Mage Tower Lord, Blue... They're all here?
-Means this incoming class is that impressive.
The VIP seats prepared for high officials.
Gazes naturally focused on those seated there. It was only natural, given who they were.
Crimson, Blue, White, Green, Black.
The lords of the mage towers granted colors by the royal family.
All the mage tower lords except Ashen sat in the VIP seats, closely watching the incoming students on the platform.
-Representing the incoming students, four students...
Only four students stood on the platform.
Legendary geniuses whose reputations had spread even before enrollment.
The northern heir, Battle Mage Rak.
The Ashen next Mage Tower Lord, Summoner Resti.
The slum's nightmare, Shaman Belnoa.
And standing at the forefront, representing them all, the kingdom's princess. Stella Aila.
The mage tower lords' gazes brimmed with interest. Each talent those students possessed appeared as beautiful flowers in their eyes.
While admiring the talents, the Crimson Mage Tower Lord suddenly spoke.
"That must be the northern heir the White one mentioned."
"Yes, he's been dashing across the snow mountains with the duke's knights since he was young. His battle sense won't lose to veteran knights, right?"
The White Mage Tower Lord, Celly, smiled.
Due to the White Mage Tower's location in the north, she had many opportunities to meet Rak, the duke's only son. So it was natural for her to become his magic instructor.
'Of course, at first it was just a way to curry favor with the northern duke...'
Not anymore.
Rak was, without a doubt, the greatest mage she'd raised.
"Hehe."
Gazing at Rak on the platform, Celly felt a swell of pride. She'd molded that barbaric young lord into what he was.
With her shoulders squared proudly, Celly spoke.
"If I may say so boldly, if thrown into real combat, Rak would be the finest among those four."
"Hmm? I see it differently, White."
Celly frowned.
The Black Mage Tower Lord seated beside her let out a faint chuckle and pointed to one side of the platform.
"You haven't seen the slum's nightmare, the child who crushed the Ashen. That's why you're saying that."
"What are you talking about, Black?"
"Exactly what I said. No matter how good the battle sense, can it surpass one who's bathed in slaughter?"
The Black Mage Tower Lord, Yetual, shrugged.
"Belnoa is a monster, a monster. It was the first time teaching someone gave me such chills."
"Hm? Really?"
"A child with a ruthlessness utterly unlike northern warriors."
A strange tension flowed between Celly and Yetual.
Their gazes clashed in midair, creating an ominous atmosphere. Watching them, the other tower lords inwardly sighed.
'Here they go again.'
Was it the clash of black and white, or their incompatible natures? Whenever those two met at events like this, they engaged in this subtle rivalry.
'If Ashen were here, this wouldn't happen.'
The Crimson Mage Tower Lord, Lurian, clicked his tongue briefly.
The seat between black and white was empty.
If its Ashen owner were there, not just black or white, all the tower lords would be struck dumb.
'Not that that's a good thing...'
Still, watching their petty squabble was far worse than them all sitting in stunned silence.
"I get that your disciples are impressive, but quiet down and watch. We didn't gather here to brag about our students, did we?"
"Well... true."
At Lurian's words, black and white fell silent.
"Don't forget the real purpose."
The tower lords' appearance at the entrance ceremony was partly to scout talents, but their main goal was something else.
'Ashen elder, Rosel van Trias.'
His supposedly adopted daughter.
Lania van Trias.
Upon hearing she'd been appointed assistant professor at Aphria Academy, the tower lords decided to attend.
It was a chance to see the girl who'd never appeared publicly.
'And to assess her potential.'
And if, by any chance, her aptitude rivaled that of the Ashen mage, Raniel...
No matter what.
'We can't let her go to another mage tower, even if it means turning her into a cripple.'
Lurian thought that.
And he was certain the other tower lords thought similarly. They remembered how Raniel had widened the unbridgeable gap between towers.
Black and white, once shoulder-to-shoulder with Ashen, had crumbled.
Crimson, always at the top, had fallen.
Even with heights varying, there'd been no absolute hierarchy among the towers—until then.
All of it.
Had happened in the mere two years the Ashen mage, Raniel, served as next Mage Tower Lord.
'Thank goodness he joined the Hero Party and retired after...'
Had he stayed longer at Ashen Tower, one of the other five towers might have vanished entirely.
'We absolutely cannot let history repeat.'
The tower lords watched the platform with burning eyes. The student introductions ended, and professors began ascending.
One by one, professors and assistants for specific classes like battle magic, alchemy, magical engineering, summoning magic, and so on took the stage.
Following them, the name of the professor handling the most foundational subject was called.
-Professor Rosel van Trias.
Subject: Basics and Trading of Mana.
The foundation of all magic studies.
From one side of the platform, an elderly man in his early seventies stepped forward. Even past fifty, the wrinkles etched by time felt sharp. His piercing gaze made several mages hold their breath.
-Assistant Professor, Miss Lania van Trias.
As the audience held its breath, a woman followed Rosel onto the platform. With each movement, her ash-gray hair flowed. The hem of her slightly long robe fluttered in the breeze.
A refined and elegant girl.
Standing between youthful innocence and mature poise.
"......"
The tower lords' eyes narrowed.
Their mana-enhanced gazes pierced the girl on the platform. Her mana, her potential—everything.
For a moment.
'...Nothing.'
Crimson blinked.
'Mana quantity is negligible. No traces of frequent specific spell use.'
Unremarkable aptitude.
Sensing something off about that fact, Crimson glanced at the others. White, Green, Blue—all reacted the same.
"Ahem, cough. Hack."
Only Black reacted differently.
Black coughed as if choking, then hastily averted his gaze. Crimson tilted his head at the response.
"...What did you see? I felt nothing."
"Same here. She seems skilled at controlling mana... but the amount was pitiful."
"Me too."
"No different to my eyes."
As the other tower lords chimed in, Black remained silent. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
"...Nothing."
Black said no more.
"...Well, no need to worry for now then."
"Seems so. Since she's the elder Rosel's adopted daughter, we should watch a bit longer... but."
"She's not standing out right away, so whatever."
The discussion wrapped up like that.
While the others chattered, Black kept his head down.
'Did only I see it?'
Black's eyes trembled.
'Well, these are the ones who dismissed Stock research, so they wouldn't see it.'
Until the Ashen mage Raniel redefined spell Stock, only the Black Mage Tower had researched it.
Thus.
Yetual, lord of Black, had seen it.
Only he could discern it.
'Stocked spells.'
Feeling nothing, Yetual had checked that last—and was forced to seal his lips.
'Couldn't see them.'
He couldn't even gauge how many there were.
The dizzyingly chaotic spell circuits rising were unreadable to him.
"Black?"
"...Why call?"
"Let's leave it at that for now. We'll observe a bit longer."
"......"
"Even if Rosel's half-retired from Ashen Tower, he's still an elder. His reputation isn't to be trifled with. Touching his disciple rashly... isn't the time yet."
Crimson nodded as he spoke.
"Besides, no need to touch her. Her aptitude doesn't seem exceptional."
"...Ha."
Yetual let out an involuntary laugh.
All blind fools.
"...What's that?"
"Nothing. Just seems your eyes are a bit cloudy too."
"What's with the reactions since earlier? What did you see? Yetual?"
He had seen.
But Yetual had no intention of revealing it rashly. He seemed to be the only one who'd recognized the girl's true value.
"I'll head out first."
"...Do as you will."
Leaving the disgruntled tower lords behind, Yetual rose.
'Lania van Trias.'
The Black Mage Tower Lord committed the name to memory.