Mage Marygold (9): Under the Full Moonlight
18. Under the full moonlight, Marygold knelt on one knee and rested her cheek against it. The horn blooming with flowers, the silk garment revealing an unusual amount of pale skin, the faint smile directed at Lancel. It was unmistakable. This was the unicorn Marygold he'd seen before.
She didn't suddenly pounce and steal his lips like last time, but...
I can't move.
Lancel was nailed to the bed, unable to do anything but squirm. His body felt unnaturally heavy, like swimming through water burdened with a mountain of cotton bedding. When he finally managed to prop himself up, Marygold quietly descended from the windowsill.
"Mary. No. Don't do it. Mary."
Despite Lancel's protests, Marygold didn't so much as blink. Without a word, she slithered onto the bed. Her skin sparkling under the moonlight and her fluid movements evoked the image of a silken serpent.
Marygold straddled Lancel's waist. Looking up slightly, her upper body filled his vision. Her shimmering golden hair draped softly over his left and right fields of view like curtains. In an instant, his world became a space containing only Marygold.
Plip.
Something glassy and sparkling fell onto his cheek. Lancel wiped it away with his hand.
Moisture.
"...Mary?"
Glancing up, the scene was still filled with Marygold's smile.
-Lancel.
A voice echoed directly in his mind. Marygold's palms gently cupped his head. Lancel sensed what was about to happen and tried to pull back, but his body, already trapped on the bed, had no escape route left. No strength, no space.
"Wait. Can't we talk first?"
Marygold's face drew closer.
"Talk...? Mmph!"
Not this again. Lancel's body stiffened again at the repeated invasion between his lips.
"Mmmph!"
Marygold's momentum poured in like a waterfall, as if savoring his very existence. She showed no intention of wasting even a single moment, her obsession palpable.
Can't breathe, Mary.
The scent of wildflowers seeped into his nostrils—from the blossoms on her horn.
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
He couldn't escape the waves of Marygold's onslaught. That was the last of Lancel's memories.
...
"Do it right."
"Ow!"
Marygold clutched her forehead after being hit by a piece of jerky.
"If you lost, scrub the floor properly till it shines."
Marygold glanced at Lancel with teary eyes.
"...Um, Sir Lancel."
"Professor."
"Professor Lancel."
"Yeah."
"Why are you mad at me from the morning? If anyone's supposed to be upset, it should be me..."
"None of your business."
"Ow!"
Hit by another piece of jerky, she made a pitiful face. Knowing it was petty, Lancel kept bullying Marygold relentlessly. It was his way of venting the helplessness he'd felt under that full moon—whether dream or reality, he couldn't tell.
Once was bad enough, but twice? Too much.
"...Sir Lancel's gone delinquent as a knight. We have to fix it somehow..."
"Your hands are idle, Mary."
The jerky struck her forehead again.
"Eek!"
19.
Week 2 of April Schedule
Mon - Post-lecture penalty cleaning. (Location: Academy)
Tue - Post-lecture penalty cleaning. (Location: Academy)
Wed - Post-lecture penalty cleaning. (Location: Academy)
Thu - Post-lecture penalty cleaning. (Location: Academy)
Fri - Overnight training. (Location: Hunting grounds outside the capital)
Sat - Overnight training. (Location: Hunting grounds outside the capital)
Sun - Airship development assistant. (Location: Zenith's mansion)
※ Cleaning the knights' dorms! What humiliation!
"Looks good. Mages."
After the first match ended, students from the magic department—hundreds a day, nobles and commoners alike—came to the knight department dorms, laden with cleaning tools.
"Scrub hard, scrub!"
Everyone watched the magic students cleaning every corner of the dorms with grimaces of disgust. This had become the knights' daily routine.
"The sand mages look so out of place cleaning. Tough luck."
"Gotta get used to it—you'll be doing it all semester. Heh heh heh!"
Enduring the knights' mocking laughter day after day, one day, two, three...
"Grrrrr!"
Marygold ground her teeth, gripping the cleaning broom.
"Losing to knights, losing to knights..."
"Hey! Mary!"
"Eek!"
"Look here. Dust still everywhere. You gonna do it right?"
"I'll do it, I'll do it. Tsk."
"Clicking your tongue?"
"When did I?"
"Loser. If you lost, clean obediently."
Marygold slunk to a corner, her eyes flashing wildly.
"Can't forgive them. Knights. Can't forgive. Can't forgive. Can't forgive..."
Finally, after completing the full week...
"Good work. Same next week."
Among the mages, the accumulated rage had reached its boiling point.
"Damn those bastards."
"Outdoor overnight this week—think it'll be okay?"
"Doesn't matter! We win this time for sure."
Naturally, Marygold was part of the fuming mage crowd.
"I won't hold back anymore. I'll make every knight in this land bow their heads—I won't lose again until they're trembling before the greatness of magic, pissing themselves under my ass!"
"Uh, uh. Sure."
The other mages sensed her mismatched intensity, but it didn't matter now. Their sole goal: make the knights clean the magic dorms.
And so, the second training under Lancel's supervision was now just a day away.
* * *
"That's all for today... Everyone heard about this year's Founding Festival, right?"
"What news...?"
"They're selecting top mages from the academy to perform at the opening."
Lancel, trimming his nails in the corner, looked up at the voice. It was the headmaster speaking. All the academy professors were gathered for the weekly meeting. He'd been letting the operational chatter flow in one ear and out the other, uninterested.
"It's an imperial event, so we should pick the best. Lucky this cohort is full of talent."
"Not hard, but the festival's only half a year away. Not sure if we can prepare in time."
"That's on you all."
The headmaster brushed off Professor Laura's concern with a grin.
"Prepare them well."
"Dumping it on us, Headmaster? Planning to play dumb while we handle it all."
"Perish the thought. I trust your abilities."
In other words, figure it out yourselves. It didn't concern Lancel, who wasn't in charge of the magic department, but...
Hm. Marygold selected as the mage for the Founding Festival opening?
He imagined it briefly. Marygold showcasing her magic before promising nobles and royals in the capital.
-Ahh, so this is the game protagonist's magic.
-Amazingggg!
Nah, probably not.
He snapped out of it. At this stage, the odds were low. Even with her overflowing talent, half a year might not be enough for Marygold to reach that level. To headline the Founding Festival opening, she'd need to be among the top handful in the entire magic department.
-Mission: Founding Festival Opening Mage.
-Reward: Popularity, reputation, affection, prize money and funding.
The gains would be huge.
Shine at the Founding Festival, get appointed court mage, build fame, straight shot to grand mage...
Lancel indulged in the fantasy briefly.
"Sir Lancel. Sir Lancel? Professor Lancel Dante!"
"Ah, yes."
"You listening?"
"No."
The headmaster laughed hollowly at the bold admission.
"Tomorrow's your and Professor Laura's outdoor overnight training. I was about to say the whole academy's participating."
"Pardon?"
"His Seventh Highness will join too."
Lancel blinked in confusion.
Seventh Prince? That kid?
The Seventh Prince—the youngest of the imperial family.
"He'll stick close to you, so look after him."
"...Too much hassle. Can't I just tell him to stay holed up in the palace?"
"Think that'll fly?"
20.
"So you're Lancel Dante. I've heard much."
"...Yes, Your Highness."
Lancel sweated bullets staring at the tiny boy prince, about 140cm tall. Shorter even than this loop's Marygold. Right beside them, the train's magic engine hissed hot steam.
With over a thousand participants for the off-capital class, they'd chartered an imperial train entirely. All because of the boy before him—the Seventh Prince.
Seventh Prince Moli Comet Phrigia.
Even back when aiming for Marygold's empress ending, this kid was always off-limits. Too young. One of the few characters only approachable in the late story, after Marygold turned twenty-three. Excluded from candidates always. Who'd wait eight years to seduce a prince? Adult circumstances... whatever. Even thoughtless sisters feared the law.
"I rarely get chances outside the capital, so I made this opportunity. Sorry if it's tiring."
"Yes, it is tiring... Ow."
Someone pinched his side. Professor Laura Court.
"It's an honor to serve Your Highness. Right, Professor Lancel?"
"...Yes."
"Good. Glad to hear it."
The Seventh Prince's innocent smile was utterly guileless.
Yeah, endure it. He's not a bad kid. Just a brat.
Lancel mentally repeated patience.
Patience. Patience. Patience.
"Professor! Professor!"
"...?"
"Pro-Professor Lancel! Professor Laura!"
A frantic voice called from afar. A girl from the administrative department, badge flapping. Panting, she gasped out.
"Mages, knights... right now... right now...!"
"What? Speak clearly."
"Right now...!"
Her face was ghostly pale for some reason.
"Mages and knights are fighting over seats—super viciously, like really viciously...! The mood's too hostile... you gotta stop it... huff, huff!"
Huh? Lancel craned his neck to peer out the train window.
'...!'
'...!'
Marygold, grabbing a knight by the collar and yelling, was right there.
What the hell?
The vibe screamed imminent brawl. Lancel turned to the Seventh Prince.
"Wanna watch, Your Highness?"
"A fight?"
"Yes."
"Sounds fun! Let's go!"
The prince's eyes sparkled.
"Right away."
"Go!"
Lancel and the Seventh Prince clasped hands and dashed through the train. Laura followed, face blank and frozen.
"W-Wait! Hold on!"