Chapter 253: Father-In-Law (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 253: Father-In-Law (4)
“Duel over! Isaac wins!” the referee announced.
With Gerald’s concession, the duel came to an end.
“…”
Gerald Astrea turned his back and walked away, casting a lingering side-glance at Isaac.
Isaac. It was truly astonishing to see someone of his age possess such innate genius paired with such a humble, disciplined mindset. Moreover, his unorthodox combat style was remarkable.
Gerald realized then that Isaac hadn't simply been coasting on his talent; he had clearly undergone rigorous, soul-crushing training.
The only reason Gerald had pressured the boy was because he had taken a liking to him. He realized now that Kaya’s judgment of men wasn't wrong.
Of course, Gerald had no intention of admitting he liked the boy. With his defeat confirmed, there was nothing left to be said.
As Gerald exited the arena, Isaac’s eyes followed his retreating figure.
“That was insane.”
“How is that even possible with a wooden practice sword…?”
“Did you see how he subtly pulsed his mana every time the blades clashed? I’ve never seen such precise control.”
“But did he really have to fight like that?”
“It looked like he was intentionally adjusting his power to keep the blades clashing. If he’d used a high-tier spell, the backlash might have been too much.”
The students were buzzing with excitement. The duel between Isaac and Gerald had shown them exactly what was possible at the pinnacle of magic and swordsmanship. Even if Gerald’s practice sword hadn't lasted long, it was a masterclass rarely seen anywhere else.
“Ugh…”
Kaya looked back and forth between Isaac, who stood motionless in the center of the arena, and Gerald, who was walking away. She was clearly torn.
Who should she go to?
Sensing her dilemma, Isaac gave a small nod and gestured toward Gerald. He was telling her to go to her father first.
“I—I’m sorry! I’ll see you later!” Kaya bowed quickly to Isaac before chasing after Gerald.
The plump purple cat, Phantom Cat Cheshire, made eye contact with Isaac and raised a paw—a silent salute of appreciation for the spectacle. A moment later, Cheshire dissolved into smoke and vanished.
The [Ice Wall] crumbled into fine powder, leaving only a cold wind that lingered like a fading echo.
Isaac left the arena shortly after.
He actually cut through magic.
Isaac replayed the duel in his mind.
In the original game, ❰Magic Knight of Märchen❱, there was never an occasion to fight Gerald. Many characters held prestigious titles but didn't play significant roles in the plot; Gerald was one of them. Players could only visit the Astrea Ducal House to check his status window.
Isaac knew Gerald was strong, but he had never imagined the man could cleave through magic so effortlessly.
As he recalled the duel, Gerald’s rebukes stung. He had made a contract with Düpfendorf. As the one they served, he hadn't been fulfilling his responsibilities properly. His self-deprecating attitude was tantamount to disrespecting Düpfendorf itself. Gerald’s criticism had been aimed squarely at that.
Isaac was not the type to forget a realization.
I won’t forget this lesson. Not ever.
Isaac pushed his glasses back up his nose.
*
“Senior Isaac!”
“White?”
As he left the grounds, White approached him.
She threw her arms wide, a bright smile blooming on her face like a flower. Though she wasn't usually one for hugging, White often mimicked the gesture as a greeting. It seemed to be a habit of hers.
Then, she paused. “Ah,” she muttered, lowering her arms.
She seemed to remember the time she’d been severely scolded for trying to hug him before. Even as an academy student, she had a certain dignity to maintain as a princess. Modesty was expected of her, though White clearly found it difficult to adhere to.
Merlin was accompanying her, looking uncharacteristically solemn.
“You’re back early.”
“Yes, it’s been a while!”
“Have you finished your assignments?”
“Hehehe. Senior, it’s still vacation.”
She laughed, but her tone was firm: she didn't want to discuss homework. It was an indirect admission that she hadn't even started. It was the classic mentee strategy of pushing every deadline to the absolute limit.
“More importantly, Senior Isaac! You were incredible! The way the Duke of Astrea cut through magic, and the way you handled him—it was amazing! How did you two end up dueling anyway? Did two masters simply recognize each other’s strength and head for the arena…!?”
White’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. In her imagination, Gerald and Isaac had walked to the arena in a display of epic martial brotherhood, just like the protagonists of a cultivation novel.
In reality, it had been more like a scene from a family drama to see if he was worthy of being a son-in-law.
“It just… happened by chance,” Isaac answered evasively.
“Sir Isaac.”
Just as White was about to press for more details, Merlin spoke up. White and Isaac both turned to her.
“May I ask you one thing?”
“Go ahead, Lady Merlin.”
“Do you perhaps have a relationship with Kaya Astrea…”
Merlin trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
“…Never mind. It’s nothing.”
She eventually looked away, giving up on the question. It seemed she wasn't ready to hear the answer yet. Merlin likely had a rough idea of the situation anyway; she would eventually hear the full story from Kaya or Gerald. It wasn't something Isaac needed to worry about now.
White stared at Merlin, looking puzzled.
“Well then. White, do you have some time?”
White turned back to Isaac, her smile returning. “Yes! Senior Isaac, since it’s been so long, how about some tea—”
“Go change your clothes. We’re training.”
“What?”
White froze. Her smile dissolved into pure confusion, and a bead of cold sweat trickled down her forehead.
“I thought mentoring sessions were on break during vacation?”
“If you start the second semester in your current state, you won’t be able to avoid the lower ranks. You need to train whenever you have the chance.”
He sounded like a nagging elder, but it couldn't be helped. White had to get stronger.
“Senior Isaac, wouldn’t it be okay to rest just a little bit during the break…?”
“No.”
White had endured the grueling training during the semester because she’d established a routine. She genuinely wanted to grow. But once vacation started and she returned to the Imperial Court, that routine had shattered. Now, the thought of returning to that intensity was daunting.
It’s just like the gym, Isaac thought. If you aren't a fitness fanatic, once you break the habit, it’s incredibly hard to drag yourself back to the weights. White is in that exact slump.
However, that wasn't an option. They couldn't afford to rest. Of course, he planned to adjust the intensity for today since she’d just finished a long journey, but he wanted her back in the rhythm as soon as possible.
“Oh, right. Merlin, there are pressing matters we need to discuss urgently with the Imperial Knights…”
“Sigh.”
Merlin let out a long breath, seemingly collecting her thoughts. “Let’s go, Princess White.”
“What?”
“There is nothing as effective as training under Sir Isaac.”
“Merlin…!”
White looked for an escape, but the path was blocked. She shot Merlin a pitiful look, wondering why her companion wasn't taking her side. It seemed Merlin was on board with helping White grow—and perhaps she wanted an excuse to keep an eye on Isaac’s movements.
Isaac appreciated the help.
White took a reluctant step back. “I—I didn’t run away from the Imperial Court for this…!”
“Princess White,” Isaac said firmly, “there is no paradise for you to flee to.”
“Eeeeh…!”
Tears actually welled up in White’s eyes.
*
Night fell.
Bang!!
In a secluded corner of the Butterfly Garden, Isaac set up a stone target and repeatedly fired the 7-star Ice spell, [Icebolt].
Today’s mentoring session had gone well. White had whined at first, but once she resigned herself to the work, her focus was impressive. Seeing her own progress during the review seemed to reignite her motivation.
It’s the same with anything.
He remembered a meeting with successful candidates back before he entered the Judicial Research and Training Institute. One person, who had taken a year off due to a massive slump, said they’d been terrified they’d forgotten everything. But once they started again, the knowledge flowed back naturally.
You can do it if you just start.
If someone has worked passionately at something before, they can find that spark again, even after a break. That was why he’d forced White to train.
After the session, he’d hoped to talk to Kaya, but it seemed Gerald was keeping her busy. So, Isaac had spent the last four hours focused entirely on his own training.
“Damn it, the aim is still off.”
Isaac slumped to the ground. He had overexerted his mana. After learning 7-star magic, the intensity of his training had spiked significantly. He decided to take a five-minute breather.
At that moment, he heard footsteps behind him.
“…No killing intent this time, I see,” Isaac remarked, having already identified the visitor.
He turned around. As expected, it was Gerald Astrea.
“Your mana feels significantly different than it did during our duel.”
During the duel, Isaac had been buffed by [vs. Human Combat Power]. He didn't bother explaining; it was common knowledge that manipulating one's maximum mana was the territory of archwizards. There was no need to craft a lie.
Isaac stood up to face him. “You’re being quite harsh on Princess Snow White.”
“Well… as her mentor, I have a responsibility. We have standards at the academy.”
“I see.”
When did he even see us training? Isaac wondered.
“More importantly, you came to talk about Kaya, didn't you?”
There was no need to play mind games. What other reason would the man have to seek him out?
But Gerald shook his head. “I believe we’ve finished our discussion regarding Kaya.”
…Then why are you here?
As Isaac watched him, Gerald continued. “I have one question.”
Gerald stood before him, looking down with a piercing gaze. “You could rely solely on your magic. Why bother learning such combat techniques?”
He was referring to Isaac’s fighting style—the way he integrated physical movement and martial logic rather than just standing back and casting.
“Because I can’t rely on magic alone.”
Gerald narrowed his eyes. “An archwizard who doesn't trust magic? How ironic.”
Then, Gerald seemed to reach his own conclusion. “No… perhaps it’s because you understand magic better than anyone that you know its limitations. If that’s the case, it makes sense. I didn't expect to learn something here tonight.”
Isaac watched as his future father-in-law held a conversation with himself. The truth was simply that magic alone wasn't enough to survive the trials ahead, but since he couldn't explain that, he was happy to let Gerald interpret it his own way.
“I will give you a gift.”
“…?”
Isaac blinked, and in an instant, Gerald vanished.
Only the faint rustle of grass could be heard. Isaac sensed a presence behind him and whipped his head around to see Gerald’s back. It was that same incredible movement from the duel—the one that looked like magic but wasn't. It was pure, extraordinary physical technique.
“It’s Footwork.”
As if sensing the question, Gerald glanced back at him, his expression cold as ever.
“Footwork?”
“I’ll be staying here for a few days. I will teach it to you.”
“What?”
“It will undoubtedly complement your combat style. Whether you can master it or not depends on your own ability. Do you accept?”
Isaac’s jaw dropped. He hadn't expected this in a million years.
“Are you serious?”
Gerald nodded.
A surge of pure joy washed over Isaac. He was ecstatic.
“Yes! If it’s a gift like that, then absolutely…!”
A wide, genuine smile broke across Isaac’s face. He bowed deeply to express his gratitude.
“Thank you for looking after me, Father-in-law!”
“Don’t call me Father-in-law.”
Gerald frowned, clearly still sensitive about the title.