Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Two Similar People (2)
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Torn shirt.
Professor Lania, sweating bullets.
“...”
Aila slowly opened her mouth.
“...It’s torn?”
The voice that rang out was surprisingly low, even to Aila herself. A chilling tone, low and ominous. At that voice, Professor Lania flinched, her shoulders trembling.
Aila raised her head.
She tilted her head following the darting movements of Lania’s eyes. Meeting her gaze, she asked.
“Why is it torn?”
Aila’s eyes narrowed slightly. Lania desperately averted her gaze, slowly opening her mouth.
“W-well, during the battle...”
Her voice trembled.
Aila cut her off sharply.
“A lie.”
“Pardon?”
“My intuition is telling me that you’re lying, Professor.”
Of course, it was a lie.
Her keen intuition had merely brushed against the realm of foresight; she didn’t possess any convenient ability to read others’ hidden sides.
So, she’d just thrown it out there as a test...
“Hic.”
That reaction made it clear it was a lie.
“Hm.”
Aila let out a soft chuckle.
Her eyes smiled, but her lips were rigidly set.
‘You tore it to shreds, didn’t you?’
“Hic.”
Lania kept hiccuping nonstop, eventually starting to thump her chest. Seeing this, Aila covered her mouth and giggled.
‘This is fun to tease.’
She caught her breath and spoke.
“It’s a lie. I do have good instincts, but I can’t quite tell if someone’s lying or not.”
“...Is that so?”
“Yes. Though... from your reaction just now, it seems like you were lying.”
Aila narrowed her eyes.
“My gift didn’t suit your taste? You ripped it up so blatantly?”
Lania flinched, her shoulders shaking.
“No, it’s not that. It was an accident while washing...”
“Pardon? It’s made with mana-woven thread; it shouldn’t tear easily. You’re not lying again, are you?”
“...”
Now she clamped her mouth shut entirely. Aila stared at her for a long moment before sighing.
“Well, that could happen. So, you came here to show me this?”
“Yes, since it was a gift from the royal family...”
She mumbled, hunching her shoulders tightly.
Was she worried about something like lèse-majesté?
The sight strangely stirred Aila’s sadistic side. With a playful glint, Aila smiled.
“Hm.”
Aila toyed with the shirt as she spoke.
“I’ll send you a new one.”
“...Pardon?”
“Since it’s come to this, having it custom-made doesn’t sound bad?”
“Custom-made... you say?”
“Yes, the size came out a bit large, didn’t it? It’s not bad, but... you should have one that fits perfectly too, right?”
Clap. Aila clapped her hands.
The door opened soon after, and maids lined up at the entrance. Pointing to them, Aila said.
“Shall we take your measurements before you go?”
“...Is that necessary?”
“Pardon? What was that?”
“It’s nothing...”
Lania bowed her head deeply.
With her head down, mumbling to herself, she looked different from her usual self.
It contrasted with the confident figure on the podium or the fearless one facing magical beasts head-on.
‘This is fresh.’
It felt like discovering a new side to her.
Aila smiled faintly.
‘Our first impressions were nothing alike.’
The place where she first met her.
The her she’d first seen at the Royal Library felt very different from the her now.
Back then, she had the air of a scholar.
Like the mages holed up in their labs all day.
But now?
Aila recalled her standing tall on the podium as a professor. Then came the image of her rampaging through magical beasts like a beast herself.
‘She has so many unique charms.’
With that thought, Aila giggled again.
“What would suit you...”
Aila muttered, scanning the woman up and down.
“Hm.”
In that gaze, Lania felt an inexplicable chill.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ No matter the age gap between me and the princess.
Such a thought crossed my mind.
‘Seven? Eight?’
I couldn’t remember exactly, but it was around there. In any case, not a small difference.
Princess Aila.
The moment I heard that name, what came to mind was the little girl of about ten. The girl I’d occasionally taught magic to.
Recalling the girl who’d smiled brightly everywhere, I glanced up. Before me sat a girl shedding her youthful innocence.
“What’s wrong?”
She was still smiling.
But that smile was quite different from the one 7 or 8 years ago. How to put it—more wicked, perhaps.
‘Time is merciless.’
This was where I truly felt my age...
No, at twenty-seven, was I really old?
“It’s nothing. I’ll be going now.”
With that reply, I slowly rose from my seat. I couldn’t refuse the princess’s kindness, so I’d have to get measured.
“...”
Seeing the maids gathered at the door, I could only sigh. Holding back the sigh threatening to escape, I stepped toward them.
“Professor Lania.”
Suddenly, the princess called me back.
I turned my head slightly to look at her.
“Hm.”
She fidgeted with her lips for a moment, then bowed her head. Platinum blonde hair cascaded down.
“Thank you for your help.”
With that short expression of gratitude, she lifted her head. I met her eyes.
Golden pupils filled with resolve.
Those eyes felt strangely familiar.
‘Where have I seen them?’
Recalling the memory wasn’t hard.
It was probably from the incident with the traitorous court mage that shook the capital.
—Lady Raniel.
After the incident, the young princess who came to see me bowed her head right away.
A head that should weigh heavier than anyone’s.
Even as royalty, she bowed it lightly. It seemed that was her way of showing respect.
Back then, too, the girl had said it just like this.
—Thank you for your help.
With the same resolute, straightforward gaze full of determination, she’d looked at me.
‘At least this hasn’t changed.’
Even after seven years, some things remained the same.
A natural smile spread across my lips.
‘What did I say back then?’
I think I replied like this.
“I only did what needed to be done.”
At my words, the princess’s eyes widened.
I nodded slightly as I looked at her.
“Then, see you in the next class. And please do your homework diligently.”
“Wait... Pardon? What?”
I pointed to the paper on the desk with my finger. It was the worksheet I’d handed out last lecture.
“It’s all blank.”
“No, that’s...”
“It’s homework. Fill it all out and bring it to class.”
Before the princess could add anything, I slipped out of the room. I thought I heard her grumbling behind me.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 2.
The traitor Celt, who had launched a terrorist attack on Aphria.
The interrogation dragged on for a while, but little information was gained. Because he never opened his mouth until the end.
If it had been his own will, they would have broken him until he talked. But this had nothing to do with Celt’s will.
The demon he’d contracted with had intervened.
Celt’s mind was already shattered.
No matter how they interrogated him, Celt only spouted incomprehensible nonsense like, “The prophet will punish you all.”
In the end, the interrogation concluded like that.
After handing Celt over to the Holy Church, the knights began investigating the prophet.
Who was the “prophet” Celt mentioned?
There were a few hints.
First, it was someone affiliated with Aphria.
Because Celt, who worked at Aphria without even a day off, couldn’t have contacted outsiders.
Second, a considerable powerhouse.
Because contracting with a demon capable of granting that much demonic energy required substantial skill.
Based on such evidence, the knights narrowed down suspects. And one person emerged as the prime candidate.
Someone with frequent contact with Celt.
A person of considerable skill.
The professor whom Celt, who had been a teaching assistant in Combat Magic, had served—his direct superior until then.
‘Combat Magic full professor, Makhat.’
The knights’ eyes turned to him.
The professors eyed him suspiciously too.
He was a professor with a poor reputation even normally. No one spoke up for him.
So, the investigation into him began.
And it was only natural that he was summoned to the knights’ outpost.
*
“I’ve told you a hundred times, I have no connection to that bastard! Are you suspecting me now?!”
Makhat raised his voice.
Veins bulged on his neck.
“How can you do this to me?!”
“Lower your voice, Professor Makhat.”
“Do I look like I can? Listen, I’m a knight of this kingdom who’s fought on the front lines. Can’t you see this injury?”
He rolled up his sleeve, pointing to the long scar on his forearm and shouting.
“Do you know how many demons I killed on the battlefield? While you lot were chitchatting in the capital, I was out there slicing magical beasts!”
“We get it, please...”
“That’s what I should be saying!”
Makhat was a man with strong knightly pride.
Though he’d left knighthood for now to teach at Aphria, deep down, he held pride as a “veteran knight.”
‘And now they say I sided with demons?’
An absurd accusation.
Makhat couldn’t bear the insult.
“This is deeply offensive!”
“We haven’t confirmed you as the traitor yet, Professor Makhat. Calm down and let’s talk...”
“From the start, I fought magical beasts alongside you all. And now I’m the traitor?”
That was true.
Makhat had staunchly refused the knights’ suggestion to protect students in the spell training room and instead joined them to exterminate the beasts.
“Anything more to say?!”
The knights were sweating against Makhat’s stubbornness. Before being a professor, he was a knight from a prestigious family.
‘Damn, he’s noisy.’
They thought so inwardly, knowing that pushing too hard wouldn’t help.
“I’m leaving!”
With no solid evidence yet, the knights had no choice but to release him.
‘Ridiculous.’
Leaving the outpost, Makhat ground his teeth. He hated this situation entirely.
‘I was the one leading the beast extermination.’
Yet no praise came his way.
Only tales of some new professor subduing the traitor in the spell training room.
‘Lania van Trias, was it?’
Makhat had heard the name.
‘The new professor who lectured in the great hall.’
He’d seen that lecture.
She was certainly exceptional in theory. But Makhat, with battlefield experience, knew theory wasn’t everything.
Where they clashed with the Demon King’s Army.
The front lines where the human and demon realms met.
There, perfect theory didn’t exist. All you could trust was your instincts and improvisation.
“Tch.”
Makhat clicked his tongue briefly.
A mage with battlefield experience and one without were worlds apart. At least, that’s what Makhat believed.
‘And now some greenhorn without front-line experience is bragging about subduing a traitor?’
To Makhat, this girl Lania was just an untested novice who’d never seen real combat, let alone a battlefield.
Look at those slender limbs.
She’d bawl and piss herself at the first troll on the field.
“That kind of novice took down a traitor in one shot?”
Laughable.
Makhat, who hadn’t been in the training room then, didn’t believe the rumors. Rumors were always exaggerated anyway.
‘Obviously, she had help from the other professors.’
Thinking that, as he walked the corridor, the academic bulletin board caught his eye.
—Class Observation Requests.
Applications from teaching assistants hoping to observe full professors’ classes were posted.
“Hm.”
Scanning them, one teaching assistant’s name jumped out at Makhat.
—Lania van Trias.
—Hoping to attend class.
Many professors’ names were already listed there. Makhat snorted and pulled out his fan.
—Combat Magic / Makhat.
He boldly wrote his name over the others.
‘Time to show this fool who doesn’t know the “war” in war what a battlefield battle mage is.’
Makhat smirked coldly.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 3.
Early morning.
“...”
“...”
Master and I stared at the box on the table. It bore the royal crest.
“Master.”
“What is it, Raniel?”
I pointed to the box.
“...Doesn’t this seem even flashier than the last one?”
“Watch your words about the royal crest, Raniel.”
Though she said that, Master glanced at the previous box on the display shelf. Then back to the one on the desk.
“...”
She seemed to share my thoughts.
“Sigh...”
Master sighed and muttered.
“...The princess seems to like you a lot.”
“Yeah...”
I didn’t know why, but Princess Aila did seem unusually interested in me.
“Then let’s open it.”
“Yes.”
I carefully opened the box.
Inside was neatly folded clothing. I took them out one by one.
“This looks like a cape.”
A navy cloak.
Clearly high-quality material at a glance.
“This a vest...?”
A vest of similar material.
Eight golden buttons attached.
“And pants...”
Lifting the pants revealed another garment at the bottom. I pulled it out.
A neatly folded pure white shirt.
Unfolding the shirt, a small note fluttered down.
“Hm.”
The note had a single line.
—Don’t tear this one up.
It seemed like a note from the princess.
I gave a wry smile and placed it on the table.
“Not a robe.”
“It looks like formal wear.”
Master nodded slightly at the clothes, seemingly satisfied.
“I was thinking of getting you a suit tailored to maintain some professorial dignity. Perfect timing.”
Tap. Master tapped the table.
“Wear this for lectures.”
“I prefer robes...”
“Robes are naturally more comfortable. But when standing before students, you need some tension.”
She’d said something similar before.
“Those little things add up to make a good professor. Take good care of this one.”
“Yes, I will.”
“If you tear this one up too...”
Master narrowed her eyes. A blue spark of lightning gathered on her tapping finger.
“I trust you know without me saying.”
Gulp.
I swallowed dryly and nodded.
“...I’ll be careful.”