Chapter 90
Chapter 90
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: Librarian Ernst (10) - Strict Conditions
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The house of the great mage perched atop the hill.
Mary Whiston, a teacher at Aldrich Training Camp and one of Delphinaris's disciples, gazed intently at her mentor with whom she shared a long history.
"Did it have to be this way? I'm not particularly close with Eris, but I do know how fiercely she worked to earn your recognition. She had no real hobbies, ignored the games other kids her age enjoyed, and just kept repeating her studies and training day in and day out. You knew that, so did you really have to do it like this?"
In response to the sharp rebuke laced with considerable reproach, her mentor averted her gaze and replied.
"Taking on a new disciple isn't a bad thing. She's just no longer the baby of the group—Eris is still my disciple, unchanged."
"If she were just an ordinary disciple, I wouldn't say a word. But the way you're treating that boy Marik? That's not it at all."
A gentle and kind-hearted mage.
That was the general assessment of Delphinaris.
While many mages who had reached the 6th circle or so tended to have eccentric personalities to varying degrees, Delphinaris wasn't overly picky or arrogant, which earned her that reputation.
However, Mary and the other disciples knew the truth.
Delphinaris was usually gentle, but when she deemed punishment necessary, she showed a resolute and strict side.
Being gentle didn't mean she was easy to take lightly or mock.
Yet why was someone like Delphinaris so lenient only with Marik?
"He may have talent, but that kid's personality is rotten. He only puts on a polite act in front of you— he looks at the other disciples like they're beneath him."
"He's still young. People grow through various experiences over time."
"You don't really believe that, do you?"
"……."
Delphinaris fell silent.
Mary let out a deep sigh at the stubbornness evident in her tightly pressed lips.
She had never heard the depths of Delphinaris's heart regarding her ties to the empire's crown prince, like Eris had.
Back then, it was a slip of the tongue due to heavy drinking and the presence of a close confidant—various conditions aligning— and Delphinaris wasn't the type to casually complain about her disciples' lack of talent in front of them.
Nevertheless, a few senior disciples like Mary vaguely sensed Delphinaris's impatience and her obsession with talented pupils.
One reason being that they themselves hadn't reached a level that would satisfy her.
Thanks to the longevity typical of 6th-circle mages, Mary appeared around the same age as her, but Delphinaris was originally old enough to be in her coffin without raising eyebrows.
For an elder preparing for life's twilight, how deeply must the world's judgments of "a mentor with no promising disciples" or "a great mage lacking teaching skills" have cut as wounds?
This wasn't something words could resolve.
"Here, take this."
"...What's this?"
Delphinaris peered at the letter Mary handed her and asked, but Mary offered no answer.
She merely gave a look that said he'd understand upon reading it.
Delphinaris puzzledly pulled out the letter, scanned its contents, and soon her eyes began to tremble faintly.
「Please come to the mock battle this time. -Eris-」
It had been formally sealed with wax in an envelope, but the message itself was so brief it could pass as a note.
Yet the lingering impact of those few words was anything but simple.
"Her eyes were filled with resolve, fear, and courage all tangled up. I could tell just from looking at her how much she agonized over sending that letter, how long she hesitated before asking me to deliver it."
Even long after Mary departed the manor, Delphinaris quietly stared at the letter for a very, very long time.
Students who think field trips mean going out to play with classmates might disagree, but the essence of a field trip is learning.
Visiting ruins or museums to observe and study—that's the core. Guts tests, campfires, pillow fights? Those are just bonuses.
Likewise, the mock battles between student representatives at the training camp exchange event didn't hold much weight.
They drew considerable interest as a finale and spectacle for the VIPs, but time-wise, they were a tiny fraction.
The schedule was dominated by inspirational speeches, debates, joint classes, and the like, which bored most students.
For the demon contractor Marik Grimrun, it went beyond boredom into outright agony.
'Damn it. Just wrap this crap up sloppily and get to the mock battle already—what's with all these pointless steps!'
He wanted to storm out right then, but that was impossible.
With all the VIPs' eyes gathered, pulling such a stunt would enrage even Count Grimrun, utterly intoxicated by his adopted son's magical talent.
And there was the demon contract too.
[Oh, my friend. Just hang in there a bit longer. You've been dozing off through theory classes, barely scraping by grade-wise. Fail to show results at this exchange, and the Sky Academy admission is truly gone for good.]
The demon Balzareth whispered in his usual friendly yet flippant tone, laced with subtle warning.
[You must go to Sky Academy and fulfill my directives. You know what happens if you don't pay the price properly, right?]
Shrinking inwardly at Balzareth's threat, Marik replied with forced bravado.
'I know, so quit worrying and wait!'
[Haha, alright, sorry if I seemed pushy!]
After slogging through the tedious schedule one by one...
Spotting a certain figure in his view, a smile crept onto Marik's lips.
An appearance and aura so striking he could pick her out instantly amid the crowd.
Marik boldly approached the beautiful woman with striking copper-gold hair—Eris—and greeted her.
"Hello, Miss Eris."
Her cool green eyes flicked toward him briefly.
Up close, her beauty was even more stunning, and Marik inwardly marveled.
'I thought she was pretty at that last gathering, but this exceeds expectations. Breasts are a bit lacking, but for a fling or two, it'll do.'
Harboring crude thoughts whose reaction from her he'd never know, Marik continued with a smiling face.
"We couldn't properly greet last time, which was a shame. Are you feeling better now?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern."
"That's a relief. It's lunchtime anyway—how about we chat for a bit?"
"Sorry, I already have plans with my classmates."
"Haha, you can see classmates anytime, but mingling with students from other camps only happens now. Your friends will understand."
His tone was decent compared to Delphinaris's manor, but the content was highly arrogant and selfish.
Forcing her to cancel prior plans for his sake.
Eris's brow furrowed deeper, but Marik didn't care a whit.
Unlike nobles, great mages, or demons he needed to impress, in Marik's mind, Eris was already a lesser being beneath him.
"No, that won't be possible."
Yet despite his persistent invitations, Eris coldly brushed him off, prompting Marik to unleash even blunter words.
"Are you sure that's wise? We're fellow disciples under the same mentor, so I planned to go easy in the mock battle to avoid embarrassing you."
She froze.
Her body, which had maintained a businesslike demeanor, stiffened.
Interpreting it as a good sign, Marik pressed on slyly.
"The other seniors misunderstand, but I'm not that reckless. If you play nice, I'll hold back appro—"
"—Excuse me."
In an instant, Eris's atmosphere shifted.
The mask of the mysterious, courteous top student peeled away, revealing the obsessive, seething rage beneath. Marik instinctively jolted back in alarm.
Aiming a tirade at the recoiling Marik, Eris noticed the surrounding gazes, smiled sweetly, and spoke softly.
"It seems Mr. Marik hasn't learned basic etiquette toward ladies. To avoid tarnishing your family name or Master Delphinaris's reputation, please refrain from such behavior."
Her voice wasn't particularly loud, but her clear, deliberate enunciation pierced through the crowd's noise straight to nearby ears.
The onlookers, already frowning at Marik's advances, stifled laughs at Eris's retort and his dumbfounded face.
Thud, thud.
Watching Eris depart with dignified grace, Marik belatedly realized he'd become the laughingstock. His face flushed crimson.
He ground his teeth.
'I tried to be nice, and she dares humiliate me!?'
He'd make her regret it.
In front of everyone, shatter that haughty face into utter ruin.
Seething with malice, Marik suppressed the urge to blast her face with spells and waited, waited... until finally, the moment arrived.
"Aldrich Training Camp representative, Eris. Lowton Training Camp representative, Marik Grimrun. Are both ready?"
"Yes. I'm prepared."
"Yes!"
Eris remained aloof as ever; Marik looked ready to devour her.
Confirming both were set, the referee signaled the start. Eris pointed her staff at Marik.
The moment he sensed the compressed water arrow hurtling toward him, its usage instinctively imprinted in Marik's mind.
Like a gamer clueless about swords or spells activating a skill via hotkey—no analysis needed, pure authority.
But Marik didn't stop there.
He'd already resolved to thoroughly crush Eris.
To the auto-completing spell, he poured in his vast mana with full force.
And the next instant, the forming arrow collapsed entirely.
"Huh?"
As Marik uttered a stunned noise at the unbelievable sight, Eris's water arrow struck his face dead-center.
Splat! The impact felt like a faceful of water from a bucket. Marik tumbled to the ground without any defense.
A heavy silence fell.
Supporters of Marik, of Eris—both sides were too shocked to process the sudden turn, staring blankly.
Breaking the quiet was Marik, flailing as he rose.
"Ptoo! Ptui! What the hell!!"
Standing with a voice thick with irritation, he glared at Eris with fury-filled eyes.
But before he could speak further, Eris fired another spell.
The fist-sized mana bolt, blending faint blue aura into transparent air, was hard to spot visually—but it didn't matter.
Even without precise grasp or sight, the moment he recognized "it's there," the demon's power activated.
Successfully copying it, Marik unleashed the spell with all his humiliated rage...
Boom!
Once more, without fail, the formula crumbled.
Thwack!
Struck by the bone-chilling ice projectile, white frost formed across Marik's still-damp face.
And through it, blood streamed from his nose.
The sight—eyes wide in shock—drew laughter from some spectators who couldn't hold back.
Meanwhile, Eris inwardly shuddered.
Confirming Librarian Ernst's words were true.
「Copies spells 'as is' and returns them with greater power.」
「The fine details can wait—the counter is simple.」
「Most spells in the world are highly variable. Put in 10 mana, get roughly 10 output—not exactly. Input between 8-12 mana, output 8-12. Each spell has an optimal 'value for mana efficiency,' but slightly under or over still activates fine.」
「Now, what if we minimize that flexibility to the extreme? If 10 output strictly requires exactly 10 mana? Or precisely 10.12515, with hyper-specific conditions?」
「The instant mana falls even a hair short of the condition, the spell fails to manifest. A hair over? It self-destructs.」
「Yes, I know. Creating new spells is 5th-circle territory. This is modification, not creation, but still impossible with ordinary knowledge.」
「But you can do it.」
「I told you—take it slow. Because...」
"...you've already put in tons of effort normally."
Murmuring Ernst's lines that surfaced in her mind, Eris gazed ahead.
She couldn't possibly lose.