Beasts Tremble, Statues Shatter
Vomiting came and went as winter passed and spring arrived. The soup bowls now held rabbit meat at times, venison haunches at others. With one girl who ate like a bottomless pit, the cauldron never rested, bubbling away nonstop. The air around the cabin was thick with delicious aromas—enough to draw every beast and monster from the mountain.
Winter was always a time of scarce food. Beasts that didn't hibernate would descend to villages and devour humans. Speredo knew this all too well and prepared for battle every day. He slept sitting up, his sword hilt always within grasp. Something had to come sniffing that scent. With that conviction, he'd stood night watch nearly every evening, snatching sleep in stolen moments. His ordeal was enough to redden the eyes just thinking about it—his waist and neck creaked like rusty iron.
But now spring had come, the snow melted enough to head to Cardia. That's when Speredo finally understood why no threats had ever reached the cabin.
"I knew something was off... really."
A "bear" sprawled on its belly, rolling playfully. The massive grizzly desperately wagged its huge bulk, trying to look cute. Spotting the beast emerging from a cave mid-path, Speredo rubbed his eyes. His grip tightened on his sword until his biceps bulged like rodents scurrying beneath the skin. Beside him, the girl asked with a puzzled look.
"What's wrong?"
Speredo sighed deeply at the sight of the grizzly groveling before Riru like it was begging for its life.
"When not even a single bird flew over the cabin, I should've realized it then."
The reason no beasts approached the cabin, despite that heavenly scent and winter's hunger pangs. It was all because of the little girl who only came up to his waist.
Watching the emaciated, fur-matted grizzly's antics, Speredo let out a hollow chuckle.
"Did you know?"
"Know what?"
"Bears usually scare people. You weren't scared at all—were you sure it wouldn't attack?"
Bears tear people apart. Everyone knew that, except maybe newborns or senile elders. But Riru hadn't run the moment she saw it. Speredo figured she knew something and turned to her.
She declared confidently.
"I saw three bears before, and they did the same thing."
"...Before? When??"
"When you went to chop wood, I went to gather twigs."
She'd gone out despite his orders to stay inside. Even mild-mannered Speredo might've scolded her, but the mention of three groveling bears left him speechless.
"The bears did that the whole time?"
"Yeah. Exactly after I 'learned that thing,' the wolves and bears started acting like this. Before, they'd avoid me, but then they started rolling over."
Incredible. She'd even run into wolves? He'd told her to stay safe inside, yet she'd wandered out plenty. No—she must've felt safe enough to go. Either way, what an extraordinary girl.
'After she learned that thing.'
Speredo nodded thoughtfully, eyeing the grizzly huffing and puffing on the ground.
'I'm no expert on magic, but I think I know what this kid is.'
Riru had devoted the winter to magic practice. Speredo didn't know the details—just that thick logs meant for firewood kept vanishing. But one thing was clear: day by day, her cheeks plumped up, her smiles grew brighter. She looked happy, plain and simple. He hadn't pried rudely for more. He just figured the young girl had remarkable talent.
But.
'You could've told me sooner.'
Seeing that grizzly grovel now made all his nightly vigils feel like wasted effort.
"......Let's go."
"Okay."
The knight, drained and hollow, sighed heavily. Dark circles hung to his jowls in early spring.
* * *
Before the Empire existed, the first families forged history. One was Cardia, though it had changed its name.
The Cardia family was perpetually bustling with visitors. As self-proclaimed Empire's Eye, they couldn't afford any weakness in skill. That drive had strengthened them, fostering constant spars and duels with outsiders. Their ancestors taught that true growth came from clashing with others. The family kept their grand estate's gates—and the domain's—wide open, welcoming all. Playing vigilante for the truly just causes, the imperial family never fussed over their expanding knights maintaining order. Perhaps because the ducal house always led the front lines in war, delivering top results.
'Fat lot of good that does—nothing fun ever happens.'
Cardia's sole troublemaker looked up from his boredom. Monte Cardia, the family's third son. History's greatest magical prodigy, academy valedictorian, a once-in-a-generation genius. Scolded endlessly by his brother and sisters for causing trouble, even his parents—the family heads—chided him often. Yet when it came to magical knowledge, they always sought his advice.
But genius or not, he was labeled a problem child for one reason: extreme hedonism.
"Anything fun going on?"
It started at age six, shaving his brother's head bald, and spiraled into countless pleasure-driven crimes. He didn't hesitate to stir scandals in high society for a quick thrill.
"Aaaah! Why do wars—always popping up when I'm bored—suddenly vanish?!"
He'd even take a battlefield to unleash 5th circle spells freely. Anything beat this.
"Teacher... we can hear you."
"Not talking to you lot—solve the equation I gave."
Busy teaching magically talented local kids. As Cardia's top mage, students flocked to him. Mother's sky-high orders kept him trapped inside too—if he snuck out again, she'd demand an honor duel.
'Wanna go all out for real? Nah, I'd lose anyway.'
Recalling his monstrous matriarch mother shut his mouth automatically. No backtalk, no adventures, no noble-blood dalliances with women. He soothed his tragic soul staring out the window. Monte sighed repeatedly.
"Ugh, what is this crap."
"Can you even solve it?"
"Driving me nuts."
Deliberately tough math equations. Tormenting noble heirs had lost its charm. The thrill of teaching math to magic students had worn off too.
"Hm?"
So there he was, seriously pondering an honor duel with Mother, plotting strategy—when something unfamiliar caught his eye. Black-haired, tiny... doll?
'A kid?'
Two figures crossed the garden, feeling out of place. No one should enter now, so Monte reacted fast.
Ziiing—
4th circle support spell, clairvoyance, peering out the window. A red-eyed little girl and a family knight he couldn't name—not a standout, then.
'What's the deal? Why bring a seven-ish-year-old suddenly?'
Intrigued by the nameless knight, Monte leaned out, watching intently. The knight seemed awkward around the kid. Someone else's child? But the reaction wasn't normal. Like a lady handling a venomous rose, in society terms.
'"Dangerous thing" pops right to mind.'
Everything screamed fun. Monte pondered: Duel Mother? Would she kill him? Nah, her own kid? These talentless fakes were already balding him with pretense. Calculations done, he stood.
"Whoever finishes, go home. Gotta hit the bathroom."
"Huh?"
"But magic lessons?"
"That damn brat...!"
Abandoning the teens, he slipped from the classroom. Boosted by speed magic, he raced to the garden.
'Whatever—as long as it's fun!'
Breathing fresh garden air after so long.
And there: tense knight, innocently smiling girl.
* * *
"Young Master Monte?"
Speredo straightened, spotting the distant man. White hair, green eyes. Taller than burly Speredo, mischievous smile, pretty-boy face that irked for no reason. Long scarf draped oddly. The man Speredo called "young master" approached with a grin.
"Curious why a kid's here, so I came down."
"I see. Sorry for not reporting ahead."
"Nah, it's fine. Totally fine."
Monte eyed me, squinting intently before tilting his head.
"Hm... never seen a kid this scrawny."
...I'd thought I'd bulked up over winter. Still skinny, apparently. I pouted a bit, and Speredo jumped in.
"She's from the Collodic family—abandoned. Hasn't eaten properly, so she's underweight."
Monte nodded, then frowned.
"Abandoned kid? Send her to the countryside for a normal life. Why bring her here?"
Genuinely curious. Speredo smiled like it was perfect timing and introduced me.
"This is Riru. Meant for the rural village, but I thought she needed to be seen by the Cardia family directly."
"Hm. Riru? Nice to meet ya."
Monte looked amused, greeting me. I bowed from the navel—proper etiquette.
"Good manners. And cute 'cause she's tiny."
Sweet words. Navel bows were invincible. Speredo beamed briefly, then got to the point.
"She seems to have tremendous magical talent, so I brought her on my own."
"On your own... for magic talent?"
Monte's lips quirked intriguingly. He eyed me, nodded, then burst laughing.
"How'd you judge that?"
Monte looked incredulous. Speredo stayed silent, so Monte sobered.
"Knights don't know magic... sorry if that was rude."
Awkward apology, then he eyed Speredo. Who promptly pulled out two necklaces.
"My magic artifact? Whoa—wait. Why are both smashed?"
Monte snatched them, inspecting in disbelief, demanding explanation.
Speredo calmly replied.
"She broke them."
You-made artifact? Breaker here. I nodded at Monte, who blanked out briefly. Then he got serious.
"Impossible."
Pride in his work? He pressed Speredo again. Same answer. Monte tilted his head.
"...Magic talent, right?"
Muttering after silence, he turned to me. We locked eyes steadily.
Monte spoke.
"For my pride's sake, I wanna see that talent. Riru, was it?"
I nodded. He grinned, scanning around, pointing at a corner statue.
"Breaking 3rd circle magic means you can smash that statue there."
Arms crossed. A translucent line from his fingertip drew at my feet.
"See that? Kids peering from the windows."
I glanced—students staring down.
"Academy hopefuls, slowpokes. Oldest is eighteen."
Monte shrugged.
"Top talent here barely eyes 2nd circle entry past thirteen. You did 'disassembly'—harder than basic attacks?"
Serious gaze now.
"Looks under seven, yet 4th circle level? Unbelievable."
Pointed at the statue again, voice low.
"Show me. The talent that knight mentioned."
Excited teens above. Awkward Speredo beside. Monte, no pointing finger—prove it.
All eyes on me.
'Knew an event like this might happen.'
I smirked inwardly. Good thing I'd prepared. Time to show winter's "thing."
Stepped to Monte's line. Reached out quietly.
Magic knowledge from practice. Unseen, unfelt at first. But smashing Speredo's firewood logs adapted me.
Now I saw it. Black-red mana rising around me.
Monte saw too.
"...Mana color's a first."
Slowly condensed flowing mana from my hand. Like crafting a bullet—gathering dripping strands with focus, packing tight.
Monte suddenly looked disappointed. No clue why. Bullet ready anyway.
"Tch, mana gathering's outdated. What talent—"
Monte muttered unheard. I drew back the mana bullet. Fingers together.
Pushed—like practice.
Whoooosh!!
Mana exploded from my hand at blinding speed, unleashing massive shockwaves.
"??!!"
Black-red light enveloped the garden, darkening everything. Darkness faded.
"Phew..."
Eyes locked on the statue. Everyone wanted the result of that phenomenon.
Silence hung briefly.
A breeze grazed the intact statue—from above, past watching students, past huffing Speredo and stoic Monte.
Whoosh...
The statue crumbled to dust. Real dust, scattering on the wind.
'How's that.'
Drained to my bones, but I puffed up, eyeing Monte for reaction. What was it he said? Anyway, impressed now?
Leaning in to gauge stoic Monte—
"Urk."
Monte vomited in the garden.
"Guh, urp... heuk, haa..."
Spitting pale bile, he panted in disbelief, then stared at me.
"...How."
For some reason, his vomit-flecked lips curved in an admiring smile.