[No Title Provided]
The Northern Count's daughter was a sword genius. But why the hell was this happening right in front of me? I couldn't wrap my head around it. What the fuck? Am I dreaming? Was I hallucinating from all the stress? Oh, that made sense. Nothing else explained this bullshit.
Why her of all people? White hair like snow, piercing blue eyes. Skin as pale as her hair, and those sharp, upturned eyes screaming, "I'm one cold bitch." From what I'd seen that morning, she looked like she could hold her own in a fight. The so-called Northern Lady. Daughter of Count August Hailron, the lord of this place. The soldiers had gushed about her savior status with stars in their eyes, so there was no way I didn't know.
-Our lady is the best.
-Sword Expert at just sixteen? That says it all. Even digging through imperial history, the only ones who awakened ora at that age were the Sword King and the previous hero!
-And her personality? So kind and caring. She doesn't hesitate to charge into battle on the front lines at the flower of youth, all for the sake of others.
Hearing that, a bunch of thoughts crossed my mind.
First: 'Rofan with hanja? What a load of crap.' Sword King? What is this, some weeb shit? This was supposed to be a fluffy rofan world of kittens and cuddles. And now Sword King pops up? 'Hailron Aile, was it?' The hero's comrade who beat the Demon King. The guy who tanked up front for the hero party. These Hailrons were his descendants, apparently. That's why they held the North—to block remnants of some dragon emperor dude he couldn't finish off. Or something like that, anyway.
And ora this, ora that. It was a feast of stuff you don't see in typical rofans.
And second: 'Kind? Her?'
-Tch.
I could still vividly picture her looking down at me with contempt, clicking her tongue. It stung my pride. I'd never gotten a look like that before in my life. It was obvious she hated my guts.
But then.
"...What are you doing?"
"I told you to open the book."
What the hell was this? Out of nowhere, in the dead of night, she shows up with pen and book, announcing she's starting my lesson.
"What kind of lesson...?"
"I heard you were looking for someone to teach you to read."
"Yeah."
I needed to learn magic. I figured that gift-wrapped book was packed with magic info. But to read it, I had to learn letters first. God knows what this idiot Ruin had been doing at the orphanage instead of picking up literacy.
If I could... I'd just beg someone else to read it and explain. But.
-Show it to anyone else and you're dead. Got it?
I'd gotten that creepy, abusive-mom vibe from Elise. And once I knew she was some legendary archmage, I couldn't just ignore her orders.
So... I asked August for a literacy tutor. I'd cling to his pant leg if I had to, promising I'd study hard.
How the hell did... the Count's daughter end up here instead?
No matter how I sliced it, it didn't add up.
"...So..."
What should I even call her? As I pondered, Iris caught on and spoke up.
"The title doesn't matter. Call me whatever. What matters is—"
"Cute Sis, then?"
"...Call me Lady Iris."
"Aw, why?"
She'd said call her anything, but apparently not. I'd tried some ice-breaking to thaw the frosty vibe, but it felt like her favorability just tanked harder.
"Anyway, fine. So why are you, Lady Iris, my teacher?"
"Didn't you say you needed a literacy tutor?"
"Yeah."
"Anyone who can teach letters would do, right?"
"...Well, sure."
But wasn't it weird for the lord's daughter to personally show up? Especially someone who clearly despised me?
Even now. She was radiating I don't wanna be here energy. But she came anyway?
August? Nah, doesn't seem like he'd force her. She didn't look like the type to obey orders blindly. So, her own idea? That was even weirder.
If it's her choice... There had to be some ulterior motive.
What's her angle? Wait, no way.
"Not a shotacon, are you?"
"...What? What does that mean?"
"Nothing."
Even I knew that was dumb. The age gap wasn't that big anyway. Plus.
Objectively, not exactly handsome. Thirteen years old. Supposed to be cute kid age, but I wasn't. Not crush material.
So no good intentions here. Definitely some scheme.
But.
"...Enough pointless talk. Open it. Time for the lesson."
"...Ah, okay."
Whatever. She was teaching me letters, so I'd take the class first and worry later. What, was she gonna flip out midway and beat me up? She wasn't that much of a bully, right?
That's what I figured.
Mages are trash.
It was a belief etched deep into Iris's mind five years ago.
Arrogant bastards. Psychos who only cared about themselves, never others.
Back when monsters overran them in a crisis, the mages there... Thinking about it still made her blood boil. Trash not worth killing a thousand times over.
Iris didn't trust mages. It wasn't about age, young or old.
This time's the same.
She glared at the little trash brought by that massive piece of shit, Elise, who called himself a mage.
Small and frail. Weak and useless. Couldn't even kill one monster, crumbling in fear. And a valuable soldier died protecting that incompetent idiot.
I'll get rid of him.
Already contemptible mages, and useless to boot? Iris couldn't tolerate this thing in their North.
Even if she did nothing, she figured the Count would handle it. He wouldn't allow non-warriors on the front lines either.
She believed that.
But.
"What?"
Iris furrowed her brow at the soldiers' words while training with her sword.
"That mage kid? He's been asking around if anyone's free to teach him letters."
"...Letters?"
"Yes."
Letters? Out of nowhere? She'd assumed he'd be bawling his eyes out after that ass-whooping. Had he finally lost it?
Dispelling her doubts, the soldier explained.
"Says he needs to learn magic but can't read. Promised he'd be useful, so please teach him letters. No one would, of course... It even reached the Count's ears."
"...The Count?"
"Yes. He requested a literacy tutor."
"Ha—."
Ridiculous. Letters? Learn to read, master magic, become useful? Laughable.
At least he didn't run. Commendable.
But she couldn't allow him to stay. The worry was the Count might actually approve the request.
She couldn't let that happen.
Mages—
Especially ones tied to that witch Elise.
I'll drive him out of the North.
Iris's eyes gleamed. She went straight to her father.
"What?"
"The mage's literacy tutor. I'll do it."
"...You? Why...?"
August's expression turned strange at his daughter's request.
"...Daughter."
"Entrust it to me."
August grasped her intent. He knew her will all too well. She meant to chase him out.
"That's—."
"If he can't even endure this, he's even less needed on the front lines."
"..."
August paused at Iris's firm words.
She didn't think he was clueless about her aim. She said it knowing he knew.
"Please, leave it to me."
"...Hmm."
August stroked his chin, pondering. Not for nothing.
First: 'Duty demands one's best.' Knowing Iris, if she said she'd teach, she'd do it properly.
But.
She'll give her all to oust him too.
-If he can't endure even this, he's even less needed on the front lines.
He knew, but those words stuck. It was true. Anyone who couldn't handle this had no place in the North.
August recalled that line and Elise's words. Do as you please. Kill him if needed.
Elise. That witch wouldn't say it lightly.
Thinking that far, August nodded.
"Fine. Up to your will."
"Thank you."
Permission granted. Iris's eyes lit up.
How long would he last? Begging for letters? Like August, she'd teach properly.
But.
She'd punish thoroughly too. Fail to follow orders? No mercy. She'd make him cry till he broke, unable to endure.
Let's see you try, mage.
With cold resolve, Iris headed to boot out this punk Ruin.
She was sure it'd work.
Until she saw something utterly bizarre.
"...What?"
"Finished all 1,500 words and the grammar you mentioned. What's next?"
"...What?"