Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Magic Confrontation (3)
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Returning to the canteen, my humble yet precious building welcomed me back.
Not a single brick or pillar had escaped my touch.
To have a home like this child of mine taken away... I'd never allow it, not before dirt was shoveled into my eyes.
In truth, there were three simple ways to resolve this situation.
One. Track down the chairman, who's probably lounging leisurely at some kingdom resort, and smash her pot.
Two. Head to the capital, Tessalon, and smash King Baor's pot for neglecting his curiosity-driven daughter.
Three. No need to go far—just march straight to the lord's castle and smash Viscountess Darling's pot.
Thinking about it, these were all too tempting to pass up.
Why not just do all three?
Drip, drip—
Dark clouds gathered, and raindrops began to fall.
With no time to rest, I hurriedly brought the outdoor items inside.
I hooked the iron pole with its handle onto the ring under the eaves and turned it clockwise. The awning creaked open, repelling the rainwater.
A few grumbling students, caught off guard by the late rain, bought umbrellas and left, leaving the canteen fairly empty.
Looks like business is done for today.
"Hm?"
That's when I spotted Adella standing outside in the pouring rain.
Her eyes were closed as she formed a spell.
For elemental magic, having the corresponding material nearby was quite helpful.
Her water-colored hair clung to her forehead and ears, and the sight of her lips pressed together—something I'd never seen before—gave off an unexpectedly refined air.
Plip, plip, plop.
The raindrops around Adella gradually floated up, forming a spherical shape.
It was the Rank 1 water spell Ansen had used before: Water Ball.
'Strictly speaking, she's not without talent...'
She wasn't so dull she couldn't sense mana at all, nor so dim she couldn't grasp spell structures.
But Adella's magic always failed.
This time was no different.
"Atchoo!"
Splash!
The moment her focus broke, the spherical water bomb plummeted straight down onto her.
She finally opened her eyes, looked my way, and beamed.
"How was it?"
"Shower spell? Nailed it."
"......"
"It's cold out there. Come inside."
I tossed her a rag I'd used for cleaning, and she happily dried her hair with it.
Her once-wet locks puffed up like a dog's fur.
Even then, her small lips kept mumbling nonstop as she analyzed the error from her last spell.
The Roshiar countess's family had no worries about making ends meet, so why was she so obsessed?
"Hey, runt."
"Yes?"
"What's the point of getting good at magic?"
"To get married."
"What?"
Her unexpected answer short-circuited my brain for a moment.
Adella then explained the marriage process for Penheim Kingdom nobles.
When a noble daughter came of age, she debuted in high society through introductions by acquaintances or friendly families.
It wasn't just about physical beauty to get invites to balls or exhibitions.
She needed something that wouldn't lower the event's prestige—and the prime example was magic, the ultimate display of knowledge and power.
Naturally, winning a magic duel like this confrontation would bring love calls pouring in from high society.
That was why Adella was so desperate with her magic.
"Plus, to debut in high society, you mingle in salons with like-minded people first."
"So that's why you went to Ansen?"
"Yeah. I've been kicked out of every salon our family ran so far."
"Why?"
"I fall asleep during tea time."
"......"
"I get post-meal drowsiness, hehe."
Unbelievable. Who knew the reason this powerhouse Roshiar heir wanted magic wasn't for their signature spells, but just to pad her marriage resume with one line.
But one question lingered. Not every noble hit high society, and marriage wasn't impossible without salon debuts, right?
"Can't you just grab anyone and marry them?"
"I don't want a dummy."
I'm gonna lose it.
"And if I'm getting married, I'd prefer at least a count's rank. Otherwise, I'd have to take in a son-in-law for the Roshiar family."
"What's wrong with that?"
"The North Sea's too cold. I nearly froze to death napping in the garden as a kid."
You just exist, that's all.
I got Adella's grand dream now. Truth be told, her reasons for learning magic didn't really concern me.
Right—first things first, time to thrash the chairman.
"Hey."
"Yes?"
I mixed some cocoa from the canteen stock and casually broached the subject with the half-baked mage.
"I'm heading out to find the chairman for a bit... but I can't leave the canteen empty."
Liv had shown interest in the basement—no go. The princess was a given no.
Adella's threat level was low-tier low.
She had zero interest in the canteen's contents, and no sane demolition crew would touch a building with a Roshiar lady inside while I was away.
"Watch the place for me, and I'll teach you magic."
"For real?"
"Sure. But no touching the second floor or basement."
Even to my own ears, it sounded like the devil's sweet whisper.
Adella hesitated briefly, then nodded.
"I'll do it."
Okay. Deal sealed.
"But where's the chairman right now?"
Adella asked as I prepared to leave.
"No clue. There's only a couple resorts around here, right?"
"How'll you find her?"
"I'm not finding her..."
I grinned and said it. I'd warned her she'd regret this.
"She'll come to me."
Dipneia, a serene suburb three days by carriage from Pharenchia, was a city brimming with natural hot springs, entertainment spots, and resort forests.
Among them, the seven-story wooden behemoth next to the Luhillen Merchant Group's trading post—Gartadia Inn—boasted top-tier service.
The private open-air bath outside the top-floor suite offered a panoramic view of the entire Kalsedia Ridge, and meals featured delicacies from land and sea, including rare ingredients harvested near Kaljeb.
In this paradise, Pharenchia Academy's chairman Lehel Darad lounged in an armchair, blissfully relaxed after a soak.
A periodically vibrating magic stone behind her back kneaded her acupoints, sending her mood sky-high.
Several crystal orbs in the room broadcasted the monster-vs-monster matches hosted by each magic tower, dubbed the "Monwangjeon."
"Go on, win! Give it everything, Grand Kenian!!"
The rhinoceros-like beast with three horns on its head was moments from shoving its opponent back.
Lehel, chairman of Pharenchia Academy and lord of Merak Magic Tower, reminisced about her time with it.
Its first steps, feeding it baby food, gazing at the view from the tower's peak together.
"I've bet my life's savings on you! Please!!"
Was it her desperation that reached it? Grand Kenian pushed with all its might, driving the foe toward the edge.
Victory seemed imminent—just a bit further—when Lehel noticed the projected screen in the orb tilting slightly.
"Huh? What's this? Signal glitch?"
Tap, tap.
She tapped the orb, but the subtle angle didn't correct.
And she wasn't the only one noticing; people on-screen were glancing around too.
Rumble—!
A deep, resonant boom echoed.
Lehel sensed something wrong and sent her familiar through the orb's link outside the tower.
And—
"Eh?"
She spotted a familiar man, shirtless, pushing her Merak Magic Tower with both arms.
A tower warded with every defense spell imaginable, budged by human hands—laughable under normal circumstances.
But Lehel's hands trembled as a horrific past resurfaced.
Back when she'd impulsively accepted King Baor's offer for the new academy's chairmanship.
She cursed her money-grubbing self, but that wasn't the issue now.
"F-fuck!!"
Lehel jolted up and flung open the door. Scrambling around the room, she found a hair tie to prepare for the incoming disaster.
No time to dry her half-wet silver hair—she tied it tightly. As the teleport gate lit up, she braced to greet the canteen owner.
One shot. Hands clasped, positioned near the wall, waist bent sharply.
Whirr—!
"Hey, Chairman...!"
"I'm sorry!!"
She unleashed a flawless grand curtsey.
It didn't matter what she'd done wrong. Even if her bathrobe rode up exposing her underwear, it didn't matter.
Eyes squeezed shut, she awaited Louis's reaction.
Tilting a magic tower meant he was seriously pissed.
"......Haa."
Judging by the sigh's scale, though, he wasn't as furious as back then.
When academy construction first began, the king hadn't told her who was in Pharenchia.
He'd warned her to be careful, but overconfident Lehel scoffed it off.
Back when she believed the only one on the continent she feared was Grand Archmage Terra Ernisten.
So, in a fit of anger at one stubborn holdout refusing relocation, she'd blasted a Meteor.
The cost was devastating.
Grand Kenian—rising star of Merak's Monwangjeon—lost its parents that day.
"Chairman. You planning to keep pulling this crap?"
"I'm sorry!! I have no excuses!!"
"Stop with the nymph act. Makes me wanna forgive you 'cause you're cute."
Was that forgiveness? A no? Or just calling her cute...?
"Not answering?"
"I-I don't know what, but I'm sorry!"
"......"
"U-um... your lower half is, uh, exposed..."
"Back in position."
"Yes, sir!"
Panting, face flushed white, she gulped as Louis stepped through the door.
His body was covered in scars.
Some from beasts or demons, others geometrically precise—deliberate.
The silver-haired mage felt terror from them.
She knew whose spellwork that was and its purpose—
"Look, Chairman. I know you've been cooperative with me."
"R-right? Even enforcing the rules..."
"Yeah, though the kids these days don't read 'em, so not much effect."
"T-true, haha. Kids nowadays..."
Despite her youthful looks—barely past twenty?—Lehel was actually quite old.
If that shared trait with Louis built any rapport, she saw no need to act young.
"Truth is, I'm not a snitch to my parents, and I don't wanna nag you over every little thing. I handle most stuff myself. But this time, you crossed a line."
"What line..."
His eyes coldly scanned the disheveled room.
A top-grade suite Viscountess Luhillen had generously provided—someone who never wasted coin unnecessarily.
"Heard the canteen's ownership came up as compensation in this confrontation. That's not okay."
"Pardon? No way. The canteen's on royal land from the start..."
"Student council approved it, apparently. Princess Erzebet said so herself."
"H-ha. Sorry. If true, she needs disciplining. I'll look into it and handle."
Something off in Louis's words nagged Lehel. Why hear it from the princess, not a council member?
But it didn't matter.
Superiors preferred results over explanations.
"Yeah. Explain it to the princess so she gets it. If you don't handle it, next stop's the royal castle."
If she failed. Lehel knew what happened then firsthand.
Louis never actually went to the castle.
Instead, after three towers fell, Terra Ernisten—who'd vanished for five years post-Demon King—sent word via Horus Lighthouse and smoothed things over.
Magic tower collapses were demon remnant terrorism, successfully suppressed.
"Sure~. Don't worry. Want me to open a gate back to the academy?"
"No."
Louis sighed lightly at Lehel's offer.
"Gotta wrap this up properly. To Pharenchia lord's castle."
"Got it! See you later."
Lehel waved him off with a bright smile.
Once Louis vanished and calm returned, she snatched the orb to resume the Monwangjeon.
Then grimaced, covering her face with her hand.
"Ugh, damn... lost again."
Grand Kenian had been crushed.
If you're toppling the tower, push from the other side—why there of all places...
"No, not the time."
Lehel lifted her head, expression fierce.
She shed the crumpled white robe, donning a jet-black mage's cloak instead.
"Was so cute as a kid, but grown up, her antics are outrageous. Wonder if she takes after her dad."
Pinned to her chest: the rusted, worn Four-Leaf Medal, Grand Officier.
On her left hand: a rosary of dragon fangs from a lost era, supreme magic tool.
"Teleport gate. Connect now to Erzebet Brunhart's location."
Lehel Darad.
Lord of Merak Magic Tower—one of Penheim's great seven towers—and chairman of the kingdom's top academy, Pharenchia.
And—
"Thought it since the Great War, but this life's fucked. Kids these days just won't listen."
One of the five grand dukes who pioneered signature spells.
"Gonna have to half-kill her to knock some sense in."
Reincarnation Duke (??).