Recruitment (4)

…….

Libiel stared blankly at the item returned to her.

It was the toy train set she had personally taken when she first visited her cousin's room.

The things she had given Kirian as gifts.

'I'm hated, aren't I?'

It was only natural, of course.

She was the one who had taken Kirian into that cave.

Rumors said the family's Discipline Corps and Elder Council had already grasped the situation.

Since it was an incident under Libiel's lead, it was natural for everyone to suspect her.

Fortunately, no material evidence had been found—.

'But there's no helping the suspicion pouring onto me.'

What if the full truth of the incident came to light?

Libiel deserved immediate exile.

No, not exile—she wouldn't even have grounds to complain if she were executed.

'If Kirian had even a little power behind him, it would have already happened.'

Fortunately, Kirian had no parents to back him up.

And since the Elder Council was wary of Family Head Rohbark, the matter could pass quietly.

Tornil was taking utmost care to seal his subordinates' lips.

There was no way it would leak.

'But I'm so ashamed I want to die.'

Libiel huddled in the corner of her room, head bowed deeply.

The girl, confident in her skills, felt the pangs of conscience all the more acutely, growing increasingly miserable.

Even in defeat, she wanted to lose by skill alone.

"Kirian……."

She would never see that child again.

Libiel wept, tears streaming down, until exhaustion lulled her to sleep.

Thus, she missed the sight of the toy train transforming on its own.

The micro mecha golem, rising in the middle of the room, began executing its pre-programmed command.

First, it scattered magic crystal powder hidden separately across the floor, drawing a pattern of interlocking circles and triangles.

A magic circle.

At the same time, the following message appeared in Kirian's vision.

Soon, progress reached 100%, and Kirian extended his hand into the air, activating the spell.

'Infiltration beginning.'

A magic to burrow into the opponent's dreams.

"Rise, you there."

"……!"

Libiel jolted awake at the sudden heavy voice.

It was a voice she knew well.

The Iron-Blooded Warlock, Rohbark.

The great family head stood with hands behind his back, looking down at her.

A phoenix—the Kirchheis emblem—perched proudly on his shoulder.

"G-Grandfather, greetings."

She couldn't dare meet his gaze.

An immense tension crushed her body.

She couldn't distinguish dream from reality amid the choking fear.

Then, Rohbark spoke.

"I know all that thou hast done to Kirian, child."

"……!"

"'Tis most disappointing. I expected thee to become a fine mage, yet thou sought to eliminate a rival with such cowardly means. Tsk tsk."

"Th-that wasn't what I wanted! Father ordered it! And I had no idea they meant to kill Kirian……!"

"Such excuses instead of remorse. Most disappointing indeed."

"Ah……."

She wished he had slapped her instead.

No, exile would be better than this pain.

Under her respected grandfather's cold gaze, she couldn't hold back tears.

Libiel knelt, begging forgiveness.

"I'm sorry, Grandfather. I was wrong. I regret it. Truly……."

"What meaning hath empty words of apology, child? Thinkest thou a few phrases suffice to gloss over this in House Kirchheis?"

"N-no! I'll accept any punishment! Anything!"

Rohbark fell silent at the girl's tearful cry.

The next moment, an unexpected proposal came from the family ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠head's lips.

"Then, canst thou swear upon thy mana? That no matter what, thou shalt not harm Kirian but protect him."

"Do you mean the Mana Oath?"

"Aye."

"……."

The Mana Oath was an absolute vow for mages who wielded magic through will and word.

Failure to uphold it could strip away all their mana in an instant—an extreme contract.

But Libiel pondered only briefly before nodding vigorously.

"Yes, I'll do it!"

"Dost thou know what the Mana Oath entails?"

"I do. Like this, right?"

Libiel placed her fingers before her chest.

She drew out a single particle of mana and spoke.

"……."

"If I break this, I accept the penalty of losing my mana forever. How's that? Right, Grandfather?"

"……Aye, 'tis correct."

Libiel had just pledged her entire mana not to attack Kirian.

Inversely, even at the cost of her life, to protect him.

A moment that would uproot her future life.

Yet Libiel felt only peace as she spoke.

"My father won't give up. If he tries to harm Kirian again, I'll tell you, Grandfather. That'll do, right?"

"Aye, so be it."

"Thank you so much. For giving me this chance."

Her expression was one of immense relief.

Kirian, masquerading as Rohbark in Libiel's dream, smiled lightly.

'Honest little kid.'

[And blindly loyal like a true mage. I like her.]

Hierniorn on his shoulder chuckled.

In truth, if Libiel had been even slightly cunning, this wouldn't have happened.

'I'd have decided to eliminate the risk factor swiftly.'

But in the mecha golem cave, Libiel had shed tears of guilt, and Kirian had noted it.

Thus, this situation arose.

[This one took a peek, and her maternal family is intriguing. The 'Goldsmith family'…….]

'Later for that.'

The Infiltration spell's effect was waning.

Kirian used Rohbark's voice one last time to admonish her.

"Keep that oath well. 'Tis the only path to atonement."

"Yes, Grandfather."

The spell ended.

Kirian exited Libiel's dream and returned to his room.

Lying on his bed, he grinned.

'Now, what'll happen? I'm curious.'

The oath's effect showed quickly.

Libiel acted exactly as promised.

Weeks later, the family head's edicts posted throughout Kirchheis Castle proved it.

Suddenly sending Tornil to the remote wilderness.

The north remained a harsh, snow-swept wasteland, and assigning direct kin there was blatant exile.

Nanny Jenice shared the details.

"My goodness! That man must have plotted against you, young master. But Lady Libiel confessed everything to the family head!"

"……Really?"

"Yes! The family head was furious and disciplined ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him. For an uncle to scheme against his nephew—especially the one the head cherishes most! He deserves to be stuck in the boonies."

'That old man cherishes me most?'

Kirian scratched his head.

More likely, he was enraged at Tornil's foolish blunder.

Regardless, Libiel was doing her utmost, freeing Kirian from Tornil's threat.

And this change sparked a new event.

"Pleased to meet you. I am Bastion, assigned as instructor for you both."

"Hello, Sir Lamoff!"

"What?"

"From today, I shall teach you the basics of swordsmanship and magic. Cease sparring forthwith. Understood?"

"Yes!"

"……."

Bastion Lamoff, Discipline Corps Captain of House Kirchheis.

Astonishingly, he was assigned as Kirian's instructor.

Libiel would train alongside him too.

[This is fun? Rohbark decreed it. He delegated the captain's duties to his deputy and assigned Bastion to you two. Libiel's under him since Tornil's gone.]

'Why?'

[Rumor says it was a suggestion. Don't ask who. It's undisclosed. Anyway, it'll be amusing—learning basics from a former captain. Heh heh heh!]

The guardian spirit laughed merrily, and Kirian chuckled.

He had nothing to learn anyway, planning to just pretend under a good-natured teacher…….

'Heavens. This bear as my teacher?'

A thorny path loomed clearly.

Kirian could only sigh deeply.

Silence froze the snowfield amid swirling flakes.

A massive ice troll's corpse lay amid the white blizzard.

"……."

Rohbark approached slowly.

To the old mage, inured to ruthlessness as a Kirchheis, a monster's death was unremarkable.

But one thing caught his eye.

A note beside the dead troll.

Troll blood was a potent healing agent, but the ice troll—lord of the snowfields—was especially rare.

Frozen solid despite cold resistance, its efficacy would be amplified.

Hunted at tremendous mana cost.

"A mana-poor lad with such devotion……."

Impressive, or mad?

In the blizzard, Rohbark lightly extended a hand.

And activated magic.

"Extract it."

Red blood drew from the troll's torso.

Under his gestures, it underwent extraction, refinement, compression.

Finally, the troll's blood filled a small glass vial.

"This much could regenerate even a son's severed arm. Tsk!"

Finishing, Rohbark pocketed the note.

A name slipped from the old mage's lips.

"Demiph. You damned fool……."

His youngest son, officially dead.

But alive, refusing return to Kirchheis Castle, opposing him.

Rohbark recalled a prior note.

-Assign Sir Lamoff as instructor to protect Kirian. If Father refuses…….

A suggestion to deploy the Discipline Captain as instructor to shield the boy before another attempt.

From Demiph.

He had boldly threatened Rohbark to protect his son.

Knowing the terror of the "Iron-Blooded Warlock" better than any.

"So, thou knowest thy worth well enough."

Rohbark twisted his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lips.

Flames sparked in his palm; the note burned to ash.

Ashes vanished into the blizzard.

Gazing into the distant snowfields, he murmured.

"Very well. I'll indulge thee for now, Demiph. But in the end, it shall be my will. As Kirian is thy son, thou art mine."

Rohbark's form faded into the white noise.

The storm clawing the frozen plain subsided.

As if awaiting the old man's departure—.

"……."

An eerily heavy silence settled over the snow.

And upon it, five years layered thickly.