Caution: Aftermath
The day after returning from Yugten. It had been a field trip packed with incidents, but even so, daily life eventually circles back around. The terrorism by the radical republicans... the case was more or less wrapped up when an accomplice we hadn't caught came forward on their own. The terrorist nabbed on-site pinned their grudge against me as the motive. I'd pretty much guessed as much from the moment they screamed my name while hurling that magic bullet. They didn't just shout my name—they wailed about how it was all because of me and such... Well, honestly, they had every right to feel hard done by. If they hadn't boarded the same train as us right then, or hell, if they hadn't even caught Beni's eye, none of this would've blown up. But let's be real: trying to bomb a facility producing military supplies while nursing seditious thoughts? That's on them. In my book, this wasn't unfair hounding— it was just karmic payback for trying to slaughter folks willy-nilly. Anyway, that mess was sorted. Sure, it might spawn new headaches, but that wasn't my problem anymore. ...Come to think of it, I'd had similar thoughts right up until that bomb hit me at the train station, but this time, I truly washed my hands of it. The train was about to pull out, so I'd handed the perp straight over to those soldiers.
"Ah, please stack those over here."
"Yes, ma'am. Understood."
──With those thoughts in mind, I was sorting magic scrolls alongside Captain Yael Jeffrison. Not that they matched the usual image of scrolls, mind you. They weren't even rolled up to begin with, so calling them scrolls was a bit of a stretch. But since the translation function labeled these magic-circle-printed sheets that way, what choice did I have? Honestly, rendering them as "spell sheets" felt off too. They had the spell name scribbled in the corner for quick ID, but the core was the magic circle, not a chant. So if you asked what a scroll was in simple terms? Just cheat sheets. To cast magic, you build the circle in your head. But staring at a sample makes it way easier to visualize than closing your eyes and winging it—even a kid could figure that out. And the paper with that sample drawn on it? That's your scroll. Handy not just in combat but for learning new spells too. These particular ones were prepped for that purpose: lecture materials, in other words. Sorting them fell under my TA duties, and while Captain Yael insisted it was her job and I needn't bother, ditching her with "Fine, handle it solo" would've been weird, right? No heavy lifting or finesse required—just repetitive work, better with more hands.
"How was the field trip, Lieutenant?"
"A few surprises cropped up, but... the concerns worked themselves out."
We sat across the desk from each other, helping with her task for a while, when she brought it up—maybe her mouth was feeling idle.
"What concerns might those be?"
"Lady Riley of Groomha County, for one. How to put it... she's rather free-spirited, wouldn't you say?"
"...Can't argue there."
Yael gave a wry smile and nodded, her expression saying she grasped the full implications of "free-spirited" all too well. Energetic, brutally honest, loves a good scrap. That summed up the barbarian image of Groomha's folk pretty neatly. And it wasn't exactly an unfair stereotype. Aside from not picking fights left and right (yet), Riley fit the bill to a T.
I'd worried she might fixate on something weird and cause a scene. Denying it would be a lie.
"This time around, she stayed put while trouble came knocking uninvited."
"I heard about it. ...You must've had your hands full."
"Nothing worth calling hardship. Just some incompetent, brain-dead commie."
No false modesty there. What pure mage picks a fight with an Aura user at ten meters? Close in fast to deny them counter-shot time? Might as well hug 'em and self-destruct with a body slam for better odds.
"And Beni? How'd she do?"
"Beni? Her observational skills were a huge help, of course. Attitude's solid too—worth keeping an eye on."
I pictured Beni's performance during the trip as I replied.
"She mulled over your assignment the whole time..."
We weren't expecting deep insights from fresh admits—just a casual "think about it" prompt.
"Most just scribbled Magic Tower or Red Tower and called it done, didn't they?"
"They did."
Captain Yael nodded at my words. Most students probably spent maybe thirty minutes tops before picking one or the other. Magic Tower and Red Tower. Or simpler: magic wands and buffs. Magic Tower's a no-brainer—simple, versatile, universally beloved. No wonder folks think "wand" first for mages. Captain Yael and I were both fans ourselves. Red Tower buffs? Aura students' pick, no doubt. Buff up pre-fight, double-stack with Aura, charge in. Easy peasy. Cast before engaging—no mid-scrap chanting sweat-fests. But "easy" means low training curve. Bluntly: if other stuff flops, swap to your "major" last-minute, no biggie. Compared to hybridizing other towers, the ceiling's not sky-high. So as a teacher? Kinda underwhelming answers. "I'm Aura, so buffs fit" level thinking yields exactly that. No huge expectations from the start, so no real disappointment if that's the bulk of submissions.
"Beni's was intriguing, though. Didn't expect her to agonize that much, per your account."
"Intriguing how?"
"She put down Red Tower."
Yael chuckled softly at my question. A flicker of confusion crossed my mind.
Red Tower? That's standard for Aura kids—what's intriguing...?
Then it hit, and my eyes widened slightly.
"She really wrote that? Beni?"
Lots of Red Tower picks? Sure, among Aura students. Mages aren't allergic to Red spells either. A buff-wrapped Aura charger wasting no Aura? Terrifying. Red Tower's "handmaiden school" nickname stems from ideal role-splitting tactics like that. But Academy mages aren't grunts. They're knights: battlefield stars, one-woman armies. Students know it too. Tell magic-track kids to major in handmaiden arts? Most'd rebel: "I didn't drag myself here to play servant." Beni's choice? Pretty outlier. Or did she delusionally think, "Buff up and boom, Aura-lite combat"?
"Unusual, right? So I called her in after checking to chat."
"What'd she say?"
"Doesn't know her magic aptitude well yet. Went with what appealed."
Liking something can be talent enough. Can't fault Beni's pick as aptitude-aligned.
"Said your takedown of the terrorist inspired her. Can't fight like that herself, but wants to support folks like you even a little..."
"......"
I shut my mouth. No clue what to say.
Pride at praise for a "cool" feat shaping her dreams. Admiration for resolve to fulfill one's role, spotlight or not.
'Uh, wait.'
...Not quite.
'She got inspired by me prepping a mating press on some rando's limbs...?'
How to process this? Deep thought loomed.
But on what reaction? That ended quick.
"Miss Konstantia?"
"Dean? ──Long live Her Imperial Majesty!"
"Long live Her Majesty. ...No need to salute quite so hastily, is there?"
Dean Myurvel popped up out of nowhere to summon me. Her voice from behind jolted me upright into salute. Spinning too fast scattered a few desk scrolls in the breeze.
"Anyway, someone's looking for you. Dean's office, if you please."
"Ah, yes. Got it. ...Be right back."
I gathered the scattered scrolls and trailed the dean. Her personally fetching me? Big deal vibes. Captain Yael either guessed or hesitated to question—just nodded.
...I had a pretty good idea who this "someone" was.
The dean's office screamed minimalism. No plush waiting room, let alone for VIPs. Yet here we were: either top-secret talk only here, or...
"Long live Her Imperial Majesty. Lieutenant Yura Konstantia reporting."
「...Prostrating again?」
"Yes, Your Highness."
...Or the party requiring the office was elsewhere, though talks demanded it.
The crown princess hotline in the dean's office. Receiver in hand, I prostrated as always to greet her.
「Heard about Yugten. Rough first field trip, huh.」
"Not at all, Your Highness. Just doing my duty as an imperial subject."
「Hm.」
Why the call? No way a crown princess rings just to pat my head. Even if, she wouldn't dispatch a three-star courier like this. So, other business... Starting with that praise? Tied to the incident? Wants my on-site take? Or Riley surveillance results?
But I'd already reported no red flags.
As I pondered, her girlish voice—unchanged—continued.
「Even a servant cleaning their lord's room gets praise for good results. How much more for swatting a hidden hornet's nest you didn't even know was there?」
"I just swatted the hornet buzzing my face, Your Highness. The servants who found the nest deserve the credit."
So stuff that praise back, please. Don't need it.
I grumbled inwardly, still prone.
「That's why I'm praising you.」
"......?"
But... something off. My face stiffened at the unease.
"Your Highness? What do you—"
「The one who found the nest? You.」
"...Your Highness?"
Her words hammered reality home, as if I were slow. Blood drained from me.
「Guards nabbed a suspicious figure, foiling the terror plot. That's the report.」
"Y-Yes..."
「So, Lieutenant.」
Her voice stayed flat over the line.
「Care to explain why that train-station heretic screamed your name while firing that magic bullet?」
...I'm fucked.
A true bomb—even the thrower unaware—choked me. I shuddered involuntarily.