Heroes Don't Study - 4
The Crassius family was one of the Empire's leading martial houses. It fell just short of being called the absolute finest among them, yet across the Empire's three-hundred-year history, no discussion of martial lineages had ever omitted the Crassius name. It was a house of unshakable standing.
One of the Imperial Counts—direct vassals of the Emperor—and a constituent member of the Imperial Assembly. That was the Crassius family, and that was the name resting upon Erich's shoulders. Of course, as he was not the heir, the weight was somewhat lighter.
Even so, the title of second son of a prestigious martial house had shaped Erich's path from the start. Long before he entered the Academy he had been rigorously educated within the family. Thanks to that, rivals were scarce even among the upperclassmen, let alone his fellow first-years. Ryutis, perhaps, might be another matter. Status, opportunity for training, and actual skill usually rose in proportion, after all.
And my bracket luck isn't bad either.
He had no intention of losing to anyone, yet the opponent who had appeared was someone whose chance of becoming a genuine variable was vanishingly small. The practical score looked like an easy lock.
If only Luise were watching.
Even looking at his tense opponent, no real fighting spirit rose in him. He felt a little sorry about it, but victory was simply too obvious. Had Luise been in the stands he would have thrown himself into it with far more enthusiasm; she, however, was in the magic division and fully occupied with her own preparations. A pity.
Nothing for it.
He would just have to content himself with cheering his heart out when it was Luise's turn.
With that thought he gripped the hilt of his sword—and the moment he did, a familiar figure stepped into the sparring grounds.
"Hyung?"
The startled word slipped out before he could stop it. Fortunately it was soft enough that his opponent did not hear, so no eyes turned his way. Erich's gaze, however, was already locked on Karl standing behind the other student.
Someone he had never expected to see at the sparring grounds had appeared. Only belatedly did he notice that the man beside Karl was the Headmaster. What on earth was he doing here?
I'm going to lose it.
Karl stood with arms folded, looking straight at him. Erich bit his lip. He had grown used to his brother's presence over time. In fact, the hours they had spent together since Karl came to the Academy already outnumbered all the meetings they had managed between Karl's entry into the civil service and Erich's own enrollment.
He no longer tensed at a mere glance or gesture. They had recovered enough that their eyes could meet and a natural greeting pass between them. There had never been any real falling-out in the first place; time alone had simply thickened the awkwardness.
Yet of all moments, Karl's gaze fell on him the instant his hand closed around a sword. Those jet-black eyes so like the family head's pinned him in place. Objectively Erich stood higher on the platform, yet he felt as though he were the one being looked down upon.
How mortifying.
He tightened his grip on the hilt. Being cowed by someone who simply watched in silence—especially when that someone was family—was the sort of embarrassment you could never admit aloud.
How long am I going to keep living like this?
"If he were even half as accomplished as his elder brother, he would be outstanding." Erich had heard that line often enough in society. It had never wounded him. When the gap between you and the person you are compared to is that vast, jealousy and self-loathing simply fail to form.
Besides, the remark had always been praise for Karl's ability, never a slight against Erich. At the time he had not even entered the Academy yet.
Things were different now. By imperial law he was a full adult, and the only brother who had once seemed impossibly distant was slowly drawing closer. He no longer wished to remain the little brother forever living in someone else's shadow. He refused to be the weakling who flinched under a gaze. He intended to stand as a proper noble in his own right—as a full member of House Crassius.
This is actually an opportunity.
Those eyes so like the family head's suddenly felt welcome. If he could earn recognition from the blood relative who possessed them, it would feel as though the head of the house himself had acknowledged him.
Dismay vanished from Erich's eyes, replaced by fighting spirit. The half-hearted resolve to simply finish the match was swept away by a fierce determination to be recognized. He would drive admiration and satisfaction into those eyes that currently regarded him like a tool under inspection.
He could feel his opponent growing flustered, but he offered a silent apology. He now had a proper reason to fight seriously. If the other student were badly hurt, he would apologize thoroughly afterward.
And that day Erich was able to see Karl give a small nod, the corner of his mouth lifting in clear satisfaction.
The thought that I might be some kind of berserk totem for Erich crossed my mind for a second, but it didn't matter. Whatever the direction, if it helped my little brother I was satisfied. Where else would you find an older brother like me?
In any case, once his aura flipped and he began to overwhelm his opponent one-sidedly, Erich claimed victory in short order. He had already looked superior in pure skill; with fighting spirit piled on top, the other student simply had no way to hold out. Still, I was surprised by how good Erich actually was.
He's trained hard.
It was a performance fully worthy of the Crassius name. Then again, that particular family head would never have let his son loaf around, so of course it was. Even so, people his age who could match him would be vanishingly rare. It was something thoroughly worth praising.
Clapping felt too cruel to the defeated opponent, so when Erich looked my way I simply nodded. The broad grin that spread across his face told me the message had landed.
"As expected of House Crassius. Both brothers so outstanding—truly, like father, like sons."
While I was considering whether to throw in a thumbs-up for good measure, the Headmaster spoke beside me. It felt like more than simple courtesy; there was a note of personal connection to the family head.
"Have you met my father before, sir?"
"Of course. Just before I left the military myself, that friend of mine had only just enlisted."
The Headmaster stroked his long beard, clearly sinking into old memories. Something about it felt off. If he had been on the verge of discharge when the family head was only just arriving, that meant he had already reached the absolute peak of a military career. And now, more than twenty years later, he was serving as Academy Headmaster?
A real fossil, then.
He had even maxed out the secondary job-change into academia. Mages really did become more dangerous the older they got.
"He was a quiet fellow, poor at expressing himself. Yet he had a strong sense of responsibility, and surprisingly, he was rather affectionate in his own way."
"Affectionate… I'm not sure I see it."
"Does he not take excellent care of his own people? Among Wilhelm's contemporaries and juniors, I never once met anyone who disliked him."
If "affectionate" meant thorough maintenance of his own faction, that I could understand. The retainers of House Crassius did boast rather high loyalty. A master who kept public and private strictly separate and practiced clear rewards and punishments would easily rank near the top.
Once the final swordsmanship match concluded, we moved to the area prepared for magical duels. With ranged specialists flying about, the ordinary sparring grounds often failed to meet the necessary specifications.
In theory the two divisions could have run simultaneously in separate arenas, but healing personnel were not so abundant that simultaneous casualties could be handled smoothly. Having a swordsmanship student mid-reattachment of a severed leg while a magic student arrived with a flaming arm would create pure chaos.
And right before my eyes, a pitiable sacrificial lamb crumpled after being skewered by an icicle Later had launched.
So that bastard went ice magic, huh.
It suited his hair color perfectly.
"Oh, that ended fast."
"Hard to hold out when someone's just sniping you from range."
Ryutis and Erich, finished with their own matches, had joined us as well. With nothing left to do they had decided to watch the magic bouts. Their real target was Luise, of course.
A quick glance around showed that people were giving our little group a wide berth, as though an invisible barrier had been raised. The Audit Department Chief and the Headmaster alone were enough to make casual approach awkward; add royalty and the effect only intensified.
"Brother, over here."
"That was magnificent, Later."
Tanian and Ainter, now welcoming Later, only strengthened the barrier further. Those two had not even been visible at the swordsmanship grounds, yet they had quietly filtered in. The surrounding students, terrified of accidentally stepping on the shadow of this absurdly stacked lineup, were making every effort to stay well clear.
"Now we only have to wait for Luise's match!"
At Ryutis's words I found myself looking at him without meaning to. The memory of that idiotic sword-versus-magic debate between him and Later came flooding back.
What is this guy even…
Ryutis had been bellowing about the superiority of the sword during that debate, yet Luise was studying magic. At the time I had not known which practical track she had chosen either, so I could let it slide. This bastard, though?
Whether he had known she was learning magic and still ranted, or whether he had not even known what classes the girl he liked was taking—both options were problems. The first made him a monster of thick skin; the second made him a complete idiot.
Gotta be the first one, right?
I decided to chalk it up to a momentary outburst of pride from a prince of the knight-powerhouse Armein. For the sake of what little honor Ryutis had left, I forced the thought into that shape.
And the way those fools, who had been chatting nonsense among themselves for ages, all snapped their gazes to the arena the instant Luise's match was announced was honestly a little terrifying.
"Luise! You've got this completely!"
"Go for it, Luise!"
You maniacs, stop it.
With a complicated feeling I put a little distance between myself and the five idiots. The two loudest voices dominated the air, but the other three were also mouthing vigorous encouragement that anyone could see.
And the more they did so, the more Luise's opponent's expression drifted toward enlightened resignation. Who on earth could freely fling magic at someone being cheered on by members of the imperial family, foreign royalty, and the next Saint? I certainly couldn't.
Poor kid.
Even Luise herself seemed a bit embarrassed by the thunderous cheering; her face had gone red. Still, she gave an awkward little wave of thanks, which only made the five idiots cheer louder, which made her wave again…
A match that leaves only scars.
Truly unfortunate.
The matches I had been watching most carefully—Ryutis's and Later's—concluded without further incident beyond the emotional devastation of two sacrificial lambs. As a bonus I had been able to mentally sketch out promising futures for several highly capable students, so overall I was quite satisfied.
I had even witnessed Erich's growth with my own eyes. A practical examination with no problems at all—nothing but good things, in fact. Once Luise's match finished I would be able to declare the day thoroughly rewarding. That was what I thought.
That was the foreshadowing.
"Haaah…"
"Whoa."
A groan that was almost a sigh from the Headmaster, and a soft exclamation from me that sounded like a dying breath.
What the hell. What the actual hell is this? What even…?
No, seriously, why—
"I—I yield!"
The opponent, who had been desperately trying to defend while being one-sidedly hammered by Luise's magic, hastily declared surrender. Even after yielding, he still looked completely dazed.
I understood. The magic Luise had used was genuinely bizarre. There had clearly been only a single chant and only a single projectile. Then, without warning, the spell had split into three. One fragment continued straight ahead while the other two whipped in from completely different angles. The sudden triple-event special had left the opponent far too thrilled for his own good.
"This is… what in the world…"
The Headmaster's voice was still stiff with shock. I turned toward him; he turned toward me.
"Chief of the Audit Department. Is this…?"
"Yes. It is."
I nodded grimly at the question that had clearly been hoping for a denial. The Headmaster pressed a hand to his forehead. If I had not been standing in full view of everyone, I would have spun on my heel, sprinted straight back to the dormitory, and activated a communication orb without a second glance.
Fuck…
Why was Luise using the Magic Lord's unique magic?
The massive incident that had detonated at the very end of the day left my vision going dark.