The Spirit Contract That Fell on My Head
“Jeanie!”
Ugh... It’s ‘Jeanie,’ I keep telling them.
“Why~?”
I had been sunk deep in a sweet nap, so I cracked my eyes open just a sliver and answered in a long, drawn-out voice.
“Let’s go put the book back!”
Next time I’m definitely ditching her and coming alone. This was so annoying I could die.
Even while endlessly grumbling complaints on the inside, the sparkle in Mia’s eyes made me drag my small body upright and follow after her.
I walked while yawning and stretching.
This library was ridiculously huge. Even two kids doing one full lap wouldn’t have enough time in half a day.
They said people sometimes got lost in here, so you could guess just how big it was. At any rate, it was far too large to wander alone, and certain corners felt genuinely scary.
How long had we been walking?
When we reached a somewhat tucked-away spot, Mia announced she would go find a ladder and scampered off.
“Yaaawn.”
That section was mostly filled with books written in their original languages, so it was packed with especially worn-out, ancient-looking volumes.
Though two kids could roam around easily enough, it was still the pride of the Royal Drike Academy—a treasure trove of knowledge built with enthusiastic support from the royal family—so there were quite a few high-quality books mixed in.
Whatever. I was sleepy.
Standing there blankly was boring, so I decided I might as well try to catch a little sleep and plopped straight down onto the floor.
In this academy I had a reputation for falling asleep the moment I rested my head anywhere.
I leaned against the bookshelf to drift off when something dropped straight onto my head. As if it had been waiting for the perfect moment.
Thud.
“Ow!”
It was seriously a day where nothing went right.
The instant whatever it was struck me square in the face and bounced to the floor, my meager patience finally ran out.
“Aaaagh! I’ll kill it!”
Rubbing my nose, I jerked my head up, eyes blazing as I scanned around for the source of my pain.
I’d find it and rip its hair out… It was a book.
It must have fallen from above. The culprit wasn’t even alive.
So I couldn’t kill it.
I simply ground my teeth and picked up the thin book—about the thickness of two fingers. Why had this thing suddenly decided to drop on my head out of nowhere?
It wasn’t like I had leaned against the shelf that hard.
I glanced up at the top of the bookshelf, then looked at the title again.
Like most books in this section it was written in ancient script, but reading it wasn’t particularly difficult.
Super Simple Spirit Contract Method
It sounded like the title of a three-minute recipe book.
By the way, what did “Spirit” mean?
I’d never seen that word before. And this coming from someone at an intermediate level in ancient languages—there was actually a word I couldn’t read.
Without thinking much of it, I opened the book.
If it had been even a little thicker I probably wouldn’t have bothered, but that slim profile somehow managed to pique my interest.
I flipped to roughly the middle and found several strange illustrations.
A bird-like thing, a lizard-like thing, a fairy-like thing, and some old man.
“Is this a picture book? No… it did say contract method.”
Beneath the pictures it read, The images above depict lower spirits. From the intermediate rank onward their forms are inconsistent.
So what the hell is it then!
Rarely feeling a spark of curiosity, I turned to the very first page.
Contract means becoming one soul. When the contractor supplies mana, the spirit wields the magic it possesses. This is more effective, superior, and delicate than the magic of mages. Therefore it is an excellent skill. However, only those who have been chosen may handle spirits…
I kept flipping through when Mia returned.
Beside her was a man who looked like a librarian, carrying a ladder.
“Did you wait long, Jeanie!”
“Mia, what does this mean?”
I pointed at one of the words in the title. Mia shook her head; it seemed to be a character she had never seen either.
“Hmm, I don’t know it either.”
“Even you don’t know?”
“The librarian might.”
Since I didn’t absolutely need to know, I simply handed the book to the librarian, intending for him to put it back.
But he seemed to take it differently. He frowned for a second, then his face brightened with an “Aha!”
“This means ‘spirit.’ It appears to be a book detailing how to form a contract with spirits. The content doesn’t seem particularly advanced, though.”
“Spirit?”
“You must have heard of them. They are the most fundamental life forms that compose the world—water spirits, earth spirits… Well, since there are practically no Spirit Masters in Dmitry, it might feel unfamiliar. Do you know what a Spirit Master is?”
The place I was born was the Dmitry Kingdom, known as the Kingdom of Knights. It possessed a powerful military of knights, but in exchange the number of mages was embarrassingly small.
Because of that I was constantly pressured to major in magic, and I had refused every single time. But even that was slowly reaching its limit.
The time to choose was fast approaching. If things kept going like this I might end up forced into becoming a mage whether I liked it or not.
That profession I hated most—the one that could never be separated from math!
“A Spirit Master is someone who commands spirits. It’s an extremely rare occupation even across the entire continent.”
“Now that you mention it, I’ve heard that no academy has a spirit studies department. The ability is simply that valuable. Which also makes it that rare.”
“I know. Spirit magic… I’ve heard of it!”
“Oh, as expected of a student at Drike Academy. Very sharp.”
“If you contract with a spirit, the spirit casts the magic instead of you, right? That’s what a Spirit Master does, yes?”
Magic was an incredibly headache-inducing field of study. For a human to use it, you had to understand countless spells, the entire mana system, and be proficient in combining and assembling both rune language and ancient language.
In short, it was a job that demanded a lifetime of study.
But if it was spirits… spirits that used magic as easily as breathing. If I could contract with beings that were born with magical power unlike humans…
Then all I have to do is gather mana. The spirits will handle the magic for me! Which means I don’t have to study at all?
Having reached a magnificent realization, I took the shabby old book back.
At my burning gaze the librarian asked if I wanted to borrow it.
I was at my most diligent when the chance to be lazy presented itself.
Dmitry was one of the most powerful kingdoms on the continent.
It could not compare to the central empire, but it possessed formidable military strength and was commonly called the Kingdom of Knights.
True to its reputation, the royal palace was packed with knights no matter where you looked. The Star Palace, where the king spent most of his time, was always surrounded by layer after layer of knights guarding him.
The two knights standing watch at the entrance to the king’s office were his personal royal guards. That honor was exceptional even within the kingdom; they did not bow their heads lightly.
Yet right now, in front of the office, they politely bowed at the waist toward an elderly man.
“Your Majesty, Marquis Lyle has arrived.”
It was an audience that had been scheduled in advance.
Even without prior arrangement, Marquis Lyle and King Dikel III of Dmitry had always been close, so an audience would have been easy to obtain.
Soon a deep voice granting permission came from inside the office.
“Enter.”
The voice was so profound and stern that it instantly conveyed exactly what kind of man Dikel III was.
The knights opened the doors from both sides and bowed once more. As Marquis Lyle stepped into the office, the doors closed silently and firmly behind him.
Marquis Lyle bowed toward Dikel III.
“This servant, Lyle Dert, greets Your Majesty. I trust you have been well?”
Dikel III was a man who carried a profoundly solemn aura.
His dark blue hair, swept back in a neat style, and his grey eyes made him appear even colder and more calculating.
Marquis Lyle was an old man well past seventy, while Dikel III was in his mid-thirties.
The two were not friends in any ordinary sense. Nevertheless, the king gave the elderly man a welcoming glance and gestured for him to speak comfortably.
“Listen, Dert. Let us set aside such formalities between us for now and talk freely.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty.”
“I still have much to learn from you.”
Their relationship was simple.
Marquis Lyle had been Dikel III’s teacher in the art of kingship during his crown prince days. Currently he also served as the dean of the Royal Drike Academy.
Though he carried the king’s full trust, Marquis Lyle was a truly remarkable man because he cared for nothing outside of scholarship.
The king valued him so highly because he understood how vital such a figure was in Dmitry, a nation lacking in scholarly and magical strength.
“Your Majesty is already an excellent ruler. What could this insignificant one possibly teach?”
While Marquis Lyle bowed his head, Dikel III pulled a single document from his drawer.
It was a document from Drike Academy—one of Dikel III’s constant chief concerns. The academy was filled with outstanding talents who would one day carry the future of Dmitry on their shoulders.
The royal academy was essentially an institution for raising the king’s own direct forces, which made the matter even more important.
“You have never once been mistaken when you told me I needed something.”
“You flatter me.”
“You said Drike requires a Spirit Department.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Establishing a new department is no simple task. Moreover, a Spirit Department?
It is completely unprecedented. The very concept of a Spirit Master is so unfamiliar that I cannot quite grasp it.”
The king tapped the desk with firm fingertips. Even that small motion was flawless, reminding everyone that the king of the Kingdom of Knights was himself a formidable warrior.
“We submitted the related documents together.”
“I have read them. It is a power that walks the same road as mages yet uses a different method. In that case, could we not simply send the child who wishes to become a Spirit Master to the magic department? Is this matter important enough for you to come in person and make such a request?”
“It is.”
“From the document, the child appears to be a noble, at least.”
“Yes, however even among nobles she is merely the daughter of a remote baronial house with little connection to central power.”
Dikel III gave a light nod and gently slid the document toward Marquis Lyle.
“Then this is not a request made for the sake of her family. From the beginning, you are not the sort of man who would do such a thing.
To make even you come forward with a petition… I see that this child named Jeanie Crowell is no ordinary person.”
“I believe she is a rare talent. Her eyes overflow with intelligence and thoughts far beyond her years. She fears nothing and possesses great boldness; she will become an extraordinary figure.
However, she has always worried me because she lacked any real drive to do anything. This time, she came to me on her own after discovering what she wants. Your Majesty, when a genius decides to act, great things inevitably follow.”