The Ghost of the City
In the arena of mounted combat, three factors stand supreme: the steed’s own power, the bond forged through communion, and the sheer volume of training endured.
Of these, the steed’s inherent ability ranks first in importance.
Communion and training can be bridged by sheer personal effort, yet bloodlines vary endlessly across mounts. No amount of dedication erases the chasm between exceptional lineages and mere common stock.
That is why the Academy has always prized pureblood bloodlines above all else, pouring resources into research and experimentation to elevate their innate excellence.
Ethics of the research be damned. In the endless cycle of trials and errors, countless breeds of warhorses were born.
Yet even the most thoroughly refined still could not best the purebloods. No matter how much budget and effort, the results paled against the true elite.
The mounts of legends themselves.
High above the common warhorses rose the unicorn.
With its snow-white coat and the spiraled horn rising from its forehead, the unicorn stands as a creature of myth.
Its fatal flaw—only pure maidens may ride—has never dimmed its allure. Nor has it dulled the creature’s own intellect, capable of speech and of unleashing its own mysterious magic.
A mount yet far beyond standard, the unicorn can teleport over short distances at will and possesses combat power that no ordinary horse can match.
Across centuries of war, only one knight ever rode a unicorn into battle and emerged victorious.
While mounted, she was invincible, carving through battlefields like a whirlwind, leading her forces to triumph with nothing but her own raw might.
The tale of a single knight’s strength shifting the tide of war stands as proof of how extraordinary the unicorn truly is.
And the Academy was abuzz with strange rumors.
In the mysterious Forest of the Antipode, home to the Academy, lived a unicorn.
Too absurd to ignore entirely, the rumor nevertheless carried weight because the name itself was legend.
Even the students found themselves drifting toward the woods, half-hoping to catch a glimpse.
Some circled the forest briefly before leaving; others—drawn by the promise of discovery or simply for sport—kept returning.
Although unrelated to mounted combat, the Pure Magicians, fascinated by the arcane, also wandered in.
Thus the yard before Rai’s house became a bustling corridor of students.
Rai’s residence sat tucked away in a quiet corner of the Academy grounds.
Conveniently, the path to the Forest of the Antipode passed right by his door.
In those idle moments, Rai could often be seen watching the forest-bound students go by.
Seated on the fence with a toothbrush in hand, his eyes caught one lone figure heading into the woods.
Unusual. Most groups traveled together, yet this traveler moved alone—and a man at that.
Universally, unicorns are lured by maidens, then captured through short-range teleportation. Chasing a mere male is futile.
Yet here was a solitary man with nothing but basic gear. Rai tilted his head in genuine surprise.
“Hey—Peter. Unicorn hunting?”
Recognizing the familiar face, Rai called out. Peter bowed slightly in greeting.
A model student of impeccable manners and unwavering diligence, Peter Grayson enjoyed the instructors’ trust.
“Going to gift something to Piara?”
Rai scratched the neck of his Black Horse, smiling brightly.
Piara and Peter were the Academy’s most notorious official couple—consumed by a whirlwind romance that even their families had approved.
“Not exactly a gift, no.”
Peter’s smile was wry. Rai raised an eyebrow.
“If not a gift, then what? Piara asked you to fetch one with a tantrum?”
“No, she said she didn’t need it.”
Confused, Rai stared. Peter’s expression brightened into an easy smile.
“I know unicorns can only be ridden by maidens.”
“Ah, that’s well-known.”
“Exactly.”
Peter offered only that and bowed politely before departing.
Rai watched his retreating back, shoulders shrugging as he resumed brushing his teeth.
“Men and their suspicions… terrifying.”
His girlfriend wanted confirmation she was still a virgin, so he was hunting the legendary beast.
Rai, uninterested in prying into complicated romantic affairs, simply played along.
“For the sake of the goddess—”
“For the sake of the goddess—”
“We offer the unicorn~”
“We offer the unicorn~”
A band of devoted worshippers marched past, their voices lifted in a raucous, battle-ready chant they had shamelessly remixed.
Even Rai, who loved chatting with anyone, had no desire to approach such a crowd.
Battle-ready, fully armored in holy knight gear, they swept past. Then came Cuthbert, Vollin, and a handful of other male students.
These were all third-years from Class A. Somehow, around Cuthbert, an unpopular-guy club had coalesced.
“You guys hunting unicorns for a gift to someone too?”
“What? Who’d gift something like that?”
Cuthbert’s eyes widened in astonishment at Rai.
Instead of looking scandalized, Cuthbert grinned like a madman.
“We’re on a sacred mission.”
“Sacred?”
“Killing every last virgin-chasing pervert.”
“…”
“The world grows a little brighter with each one we remove, doesn’t it?”
His face looked like a saint offering service to humanity, yet his eyes burned with jealousy and spite.
Now that Rai thought about it, the previous group had been different.
Both were heavily armored, but the fanatics had carried capture tools, while Cuthbert’s crew carried only swords, axes, and crossbows.
“I see… well, good luck.”
“Yes, Instructor Rai. Have a wonderful day.”
Cuthbert’s group marched toward the forest, grinning fiercely, weapons at the ready to slay the unicorn.
Students hunted unicorns for myriad reasons.
Yet if they were so easily caught, they would never have earned legendary status.
Even the rumor that one lived in the Forest of the Antipode was laughable.
And that students could actually trap it? Even more absurd.
Watching the young, passionate students, Rai let out a soft chuckle.
In the distance, Piara came sprinting breathlessly.
“Instructor Rai! Did Peter just pass by?!”
“Yeah, not long ago.”
“Thank you!”
Panting, she dashed into the forest after him.
Rai watched her disappear, nodding once to himself.
“Not a maiden.”
“What was that?”
At the cold voice, Rai turned to see Leila.
From morning onward, the word “maiden” had been spoken so casually in the Academy that Leila’s sharp eyes were fixed on him with clear disapproval.
“You’re hunting unicorns too?”
“Unicorns? You believe that nonsense?”
“Of course not.”
Leila’s tone dripped contempt. Rai shook his head.
If a unicorn truly existed here, the Empire would have long since mobilized to capture it.
Its value was simply too high.
Leila thrust a sealed envelope into his hands. The wax already bore Rai’s own seal, proof she had already examined it.
As a soldier herself, Leila often brought him cases requiring his opinion.
Although her personality grated on him, her skill was unmatched. He took the documents without a word and opened them.
“There’s a tray on the kitchen counter with a teapot, and a few cups. Oh, and if you see any beer in the corner, go ahead and drink it.”
Rai spoke in the relaxed tone of someone giving an order. Leila’s face twisted in displeasure.
At that moment the Black Horse neighed and bolted toward the house.
Peering through the kitchen window, it soon returned carrying the tray with cheerful steps.
Setting the tray down, the horse seized the oversized beer mug and danced backward.
Leila stared blankly at the tray in her hands as Rai ignored her and continued reading, pouring tea, and setting the tray on the fence.
Though she had accepted the cup without protest, she still kept glancing between Rai and the horse.
“This… was the Headmistress’s gift?”
“Yeah. She always dumps the annoying stuff on me.”
Rai muttered irritably, yet few combat mounts possessed enough intelligence to understand human speech.
Of course, drinking beer since morning was odd, but Rai observed the horse’s massive frame and superior intellect with growing interest.
Soon he straightened and asked about the case.
“This one occurred in Legandia. The City Guard Captain couldn’t handle it alone, so they requested support.”
“You mean the woman with broad shoulders and a slightly square jaw?”
“Captain Kali?”
Rai, who had briefly crossed paths with her while rescuing Aslan from the Guard, shook his head.
Leila shot him a suspicious look, then decided it didn’t matter right now and asked for his opinion.
“The information is thin. A death with no traces—rumors say it’s a ghost.”
“This the report?”
Rai’s tone was dry. Leila felt a wave of shame, as if she had written the document herself.
Yet the Legandia City Guard, directly under the Emperor, produced reports this sloppy? It was an insult to the entire military.
“I get one.”
“What?”
“The killer was simply too strong. Traces are nonexistent because no one can leave any.”
“Most reports like this are written when the writer can’t understand what happened.”
Rai wasn’t just insulting sloppy paperwork. He was analyzing the information contained within.
“Without the details, I’d have to see the site.”
“The Guard has already prepared the place. After classes, come with me.”
Rai found the thought of extra work after teaching annoying, yet he had no choice but to follow Leila’s lead.
“Specialists could handle this too.”
“Who besides me?”
“My tracking is field-specialist level. There are plenty better at this kind of investigation. Selma, the Green-Blue Lizard, could help. And if I look deeper… nah, she wouldn’t take it.”
Muttering to himself, Rai suggested Selma.
Leila accepted, reasoning that the famed Lizard of Viridian would be of service.
***
“Hmm… the fixer said he retired…”
Forcibly dragged out, Selma folded her smooth wrinkles and sighed in utter exhaustion.
“I’ll cover the fee. And I only need your advice after I inspect the scene.”
“Fee? No need. She’s filthy rich. I’m just here as a volunteer.”
For the Academy’s top-tier fixer, money no longer held meaning.
The Empire’s payment was negligible compared to what she already possessed, yet unpaid labor carried different weight.
Those skilled enough to help deserved compensation for their skill.
Though retired, Selma had always kept that principle. Offering aid would simply accrue a favor from Leila, a soldier in the Empire’s service—irrelevant to Rai’s blunt remark.
“Don’t teach Philia those weird spells. You were supposed to teach her about mana, yet you’re just training her to swing a sword.”
“Kya~? Hah— this is why stupid warriors are the way they are. It’s a shame you don’t understand the greatness of those techniques.”
“Three is too many useless ones.”
Selma and Rai bantered back and forth.
Though their age gap was noticeable, watching them argue side by side felt like watching old friends.
From the Era of Strife, Rai found their relationship enviable.
Peace had come, which was wonderful, yet every warrior still craved the chance to test their strength against the trials of war.
Seeing two former swords that once faced each other now bickering so easily only deepened the envy.
Saluting the guards who guarded the site, the three entered the house.
No corpse remained, yet the death location was clearly marked. Selma examined a sketch of the body’s position and surveyed the surroundings.
The interior showed no sign of struggle.
Even without examining the documents, the acrid scent of herbs and alchemical ingredients scattered throughout proved the victim had been an alchemist.
While Rai wandered among the materials, Selma checked beneath the table and other overlooked spots, then walked to the marked location and dusted the floor with her finger.
Rubbing the dust between her fingers, she looked upward and slowly traced her gaze along the ceiling before fixing it on the wall.
“You found traces?”
“Yes. Not human. It’s a ghost.”
“My specialty? Not ghosts, people.”
“But you’re skilled in magic, so your point stands. And more victims were people anyway.”
Leila’s face darkened at Rai’s twisted joke. He shot her a glance, then approached the wall where Selma pointed.
To Leila it looked like an ordinary stained patch, but both Rai and Selma saw something else.
Rai waved his hand through the air. Mana stirred, glowing like dust, then clumped and adhered to the wall.
The glowing particles soon lost their light and crumbled into black powder that drifted to the floor.
Even Leila and Selma, who were not mana experts, understood the meaning.
Strong mana had manifested its essence.
After draining all the visible mana, Rai silently scooped up the powder and licked it from his tongue.
Selma and Leila both wore horrified expressions, yet Rai simply savored the taste, grimacing comically before spitting the black sludge onto the floor.
“Big trouble.”
“Why? What happened?”
Rai’s smile was bitter as he answered Leila’s question.
“A Death Knight.”