Chapter 326
Chapter 326
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 326
>Chapter Title: Thump Thump
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After my meeting with the principal senior ended.
I wandered the academy grounds, taking a moment to sort out my thoughts.
The principal senior's words had stirred faint ripples in my heart.
- Once you cross the line once, the second time isn't hard. After crossing it twice, you'll find no hesitation in your heart anymore. And that's how everyone... turns into a monster.
Cross it once, and the second time is easy; after that, no hesitation, and eventually, you become a monster.
Suddenly, a thought struck me.
‘...So, doesn't that mean once is fine?’
And then there was this.
- You don't want to end up like Grand Duke Nana Muspellun, do you?
I got the point.
But.
‘...That sounds like a long, healthy life to me.’
If I didn't say it, no one would know, but aside from building a magic tower, my top wish was a long life without illness.
Why?
Judging by how things were going in this life, even surviving with illness seemed unlikely, let alone a healthy one.
Of course, the principal senior's story wasn't entirely meaningless.
"It's true, after all."
It drove a wedge into the scale of my already wavering heart.
Truth be told, if it were just about my own 'line,' it wouldn't matter.
But in a way, this 'line' was tied not just to me, but to the magic tower as well, which made me hesitate.
Anyway.
‘Let's shelve the idea of sowing chaos in the Decullan Family through Sallie.’
That didn't mean I was going to let Sallie off the hook entirely.
After all, chances to meet the Decullan Young Patriarch so defenselessly didn't come often.
‘The question is, what to do once I make contact...’
I paused my steps and settled on a nearby bench.
The surroundings were still dark.
I'd woken early to observe Sallie, who rose at dawn for training, and the academy shrouded in darkness was perfect for organizing thoughts.
‘First off, no beating him up.’
Beating him outright wouldn't feel satisfying anyway.
Nor could I just say, ‘Hey, let's be friends from now on. Live nicely, or you'll die by my hand.’
Two things were key here.
First.
‘What do I want?’
Second.
‘How do I seize it?’
So, what I wanted was...
"Sallie to become a good person. At least, not turn into the mess from my past life. Otherwise, I'd regret it."
Ah, I should've smashed his skull back then. I didn't want regrets like that.
And at the same time...
‘...It'd be even better if I could screw over the Decullan Family too.’
Well, that was just a bonus hope.
Anyway, to sum it up: Sallie needed to become good, but the method was the issue.
"Reform. I need to reform him..."
How do you reform a guy who hasn't even gone astray yet?
I sank back into thought.
And soon, I realized something new: I hadn't been using my brain much lately.
What did that mean?
‘...My training's been lacking.’
When the body's weak, the brain suffers, as they say.
Anyway, the dilemma continued.
How to beat... no, reform Sallie so word spreads that I did a good job.
He hadn't turned to trash yet, so there must be some future trigger; what lesson could I etch into his bones to help him overcome it?
How long did I ponder?
"Yeah."
I made up my mind.
"Let's give up thinking."
This wasn't a problem thinking would solve.
I'd forgotten amid not using my brain lately, but I rarely used it anyway.
And...
‘...I've got something better, right?’
I clenched my fists and looked up at the sky.
The rising sun.
A prayer.
‘Moon goddess.’
Grant me the strength to be a righteous reformer today as well.
I sprang to my feet and headed out.
Toward the training ground where Sallie was practicing.
His session wasn't over yet.
* * *
Sallie von Decullan.
The Decullan Young Patriarch.
When people heard that title, their reactions fell into one of two camps.
Fear at the name ‘Decullan,’ or envy for the heir of a prestigious house.
The former was understandable.
No matter how outsiders viewed the Decullan Family, it was the house where Sallie was born and raised.
The name held no special thrill for him.
But the latter... the status of ‘Decullan heir’ was different.
A position he'd held since birth, as familiar as his own name in a way, yet one Sallie could never take for granted.
When had it started?
Right, around age seven or eight, he'd begun feeling uncomfortable with it.
- You... lack talent.
His father's cold words.
- I knew your body was frail at accepting mana, but your ability to logically understand and judge things is lacking too. This... isn't something effort alone can fix.
That conversation with his father ended there.
From that day, the ‘Young Patriarch’ status he'd worn like skin began to chafe.
The disappointment in his retainers' eyes clawed at his chest; the frustrated gazes of hired tutors tore at his heart.
To Sallie, being Young Patriarch... was that.
A garment woven of thorns, one he could neither shed nor be allowed to.
Heavy. Painful.
Tormenting.
That's how Sallie had lived.
In a life that felt suffocating.
But Sallie didn't run.
He didn't stray.
He just... walked on silently.
If he didn't grasp it on the first try, he listened twice; if twice wasn't enough, three, four... a hundred, a thousand times, clinging desperately.
Not just magic, but every field where he fell short.
Of course, it wasn't easy.
Self-loathing?
Of course he felt it. What was there to say?
The more he learned, the more his deficiencies stood out; the higher his level, the farther the path ahead seemed.
And each time he felt that lack... Sallie swallowed sobs in the face of despair.
- Why, why me...
Resentment at his innate talent. Self-hatred. And... despair at the ‘impossible.’
It all choked him.
Yes, perhaps...
- What's the point? Even if he tries... tch.
- It's just meaningless flailing in the end.
His retainers' whispers about him might be right.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't meet the family's expectations, so it might be pointless.
And the easy way out wasn't hard.
Just stop training.
But.
Sallie didn't stop.
Why?
Even now, he could hardly remember.
Why he kept training, why he persisted despite knowing it was futile.
There must have been some reason...
Anyway.
Sallie walked on silently again.
No, he ran.
Toward a goal he could never reach.
...Ten years like that.
Sallie, now seventeen.
"Hoo, ha..."
Sallie wiped the sweat trickling down his forehead and looked up at the sky.
Surely because winter was ending, the sun rose early.
He closed his eyes briefly, basking in the sunlight, then regulated his breathing fully and stretched.
A cool-down routine, but even then, his mind didn't rest.
‘...The Krok equation, so... the formula...’
No more than four hours of sleep.
A brain that never stopped.
Plenty of nutrients, but a body in constant motion without a single day off.
Sturdier than a commoner, as a mage, but beyond the flesh's limits, it was his mind that suffered abuse.
Yet from childhood, Sallie had maintained this routine without a single day's break.
If someone asked if it was tough...
Sallie would probably counter.
‘...Is it?’
Rather than ponder if this life was hard or not, he'd say he didn't know and get back to his duties.
Like a man who knew no pause.
To Sallie, this day was just ordinary routine. And tomorrow would be no different.
But why?
“...”
Sallie, obsessively mulling magic, suddenly looked up at the sky again as a breeze blew in.
The cool wind pleasantly chilled his sweat, and for a brief, very brief moment, he emptied his mind and took in the blue sky.
“...So blue.”
Had the sky always been this blue?
But the sentiment didn't last.
He had to move.
...Again.
Sallie moved his body. For the next day, stretching limbs to relax muscles.
Body in motion, mind chewing over magic. Then off to the private training room for breathing exercises.
The usual day.
...That day, the anomaly arrived just as Sallie finished stretching.
“Hey.”
“...?”
Sallie cocked his head and scanned around. Soon he spotted the voice's owner, tilting his head again in confusion.
“Wh...o?”
The intruder was some masked figure.
On his head...
‘...A number?’
It looked like a number, covered by paper? Anyway.
“You don't need to know who I am. You got worries?”
“...Pardon?”
“Like, wanting to chop off kids' arms, smash their legs, that kinda thing? Seeing rude bastards makes you wanna slit their throats?”
“Such horrific...”
Sallie shuddered at the gruesome images in his mind, then collected himself.
“Who might you be to ask such things...”
“If I was gonna tell you, why wear the mask?”
“Ah, true enough.”
Sallie nodded as if convinced. Truth be told, less convinced than just dropping the questions.
“Tch, is this how he grows into that bastard?”
The masked man tilted his head in utter bafflement, but that was none of Sallie's concern.
“Um... if you have business, could you state it?”
“Why, busy?”
“...Yes.”
Sallie needed to hurry to the private room for breathing exercises. Otherwise, he'd skip breakfast.
Unfortunately, the masked man had no intention of letting him go.
“You can leave later, but sit for a sec first. Got something to say.”
“S...omething to say?”
“Tch, hurry up.”
Sallie eyed the masked man briefly, then awkwardly sat. Best to play along to end this quick. The masked man strode over and plopped down opposite him.
And then.
A descending silence.
“...?”
Sallie didn't speak.
“...”
The masked man didn't speak.
The silence stretched, until Sallie finally broke it.
“Um, if there's no business, may I get up now...”
“No, wait. It's not like there's nothing.”
The masked man groaned, seemingly pondering.
He spoke soon after, and when he did, Sallie let out a dazed gasp.
“You, got any sins weighing on you?”
“...Pardon?”
“If you do, spill. I'll smash your head in for you.”
What...
Sallie thought.
He'd definitely run into trouble.
But regardless, the masked man—Aster—waited with bated breath for Sallie to speak.
‘Thump thump.’
Truly, his heart was racing.