Ruthless Contracts and Ruen's One-Week Special Lecture
The contract the Duchess had forged with the Count was a ruthless one.
She had borrowed money. An astronomical sum that the Grand Duchy back then could never have repaid.
The weight of what she'd surrendered in exchange was immense.
She'd even handed over a portion of their autonomy rights—the very blood and lives of her ancestors.
The witnesses and guarantors for that contract, and this new one, were two in number: Kian and the commander of the 3rd Legion.
'Kian... he's finally on board.'
Arwen glanced at the new contract she'd signed with Kian just a few days prior.
It was identical in every way to the employment contract Ruen had signed months ago—the only difference was the name.
The Grand Duchy would provide the mage with whatever they needed. Research funds, personal protection, anything.
In return, they asked for just one thing: the mage would lend their power to the North.
She recalled the moment she'd slid the new contract across to Kian.
"Isn't this contract way too favorable to me?"
And yet, just like Ruen, Kian had signed it without hesitation.
For the Grand Duchy, it had been a necessary step. They were that desperate.
And that judgment had proven correct.
The Grand Ducal Castle, now brimming with all manner of magic, and the territory shining with dazzling progress—they were living proof.
The only issue with this new contract was that Kian was still technically affiliated with the Count.
It looked like a double contract on paper, but Kian's response had been simple.
"Nah, that won't be a problem."
He seemed confident, like he had something up his sleeve. From what she'd heard, there was some loophole in his contract with the Count.
"I just need to give up a little on my end. But that's nothing compared to how important this is right now."
He'd said it firmly, but with a bittersweet glint in his eye.
As Arwen herself, that expression tugged at her heart...
But from the Grand Duchess's perspective, it was manna from heaven.
Ruen was already pulling more than her weight—worth a hundred people on her own—but they couldn't dump everything on her.
"Am I really part of the Grand Duchy now? Not an outsider anymore?"
Ever since that day, Kian had finally been able to join the meetings.
There hadn't been much going on lately, so it was a fairly routine gathering. Even so, Kian had worn a satisfied smile throughout.
He must have felt pretty isolated before.
"We're slowly reclaiming our old glory..."
Arwen felt a swell of satisfaction.
It was a far cry from those days when she'd shouldered the crushing responsibility alone, shedding tears in private.
Arwen smiled faintly as she flipped to the next document in the pile.
It detailed their current finances—or more precisely, their debts.
They were steadily paying down the principal due over the next three years, but...
"Still annoying."
The portrait of the 3rd Legion commander, squatting smugly in the corner of the page, kept grating on her nerves.
The Count was a man with insatiable greed.
He'd gone to war as a teenager, earned merits, and been granted his title.
Compared to the storied histories boasted by most central nobles, it was a paltry path.
Yet despite that short lineage, the Count's family had skyrocketed to prominence.
And the reason lay in the Count's own talents.
His gleaming ambition, combined with his innate political and financial acumen.
"A man like that won't let go of the Grand Duchy easily."
He must be dying of frustration right now. Especially since it wasn't even his to begin with.
The Count's unscrupulous nature was something Arwen had endured to her wits' end.
For instance, he'd once tried to sabotage the fur auction by releasing magic beasts.
'We got lucky.'
If Ruen hadn't happened to visit the capital at just the right time—if they hadn't spotted the ambush attempt...
"...We need to plug the information leaks beforehand."
She couldn't rely on Ruen forever. She couldn't take the easy road indefinitely.
So thought Arwen.
"Hoo..."
Tap, tap. Her fingers drummed on the desk.
With Kian fully turned to the North, the Count's last eyes inside the Grand Duchy were the 3rd Legion commander.
Arwen scanned the intel her information officer had gathered on the man.
He was the Count's right-hand man, through and through.
A childhood friend. A knight who'd fought alongside the Count on the battlefields.
No way to bribe or reason with him.
"I need to find a way to eliminate him."
Muttering to herself, Arwen rose from her office chair.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The sun was setting.
I sat on the floor of the dormitory supervisor's office, gazing at Arwen's reply that had just arrived.
"Hmm..."
The letter hadn't come crashing through the window.
I'd noticed the mana flow woven into the paper shift and teleported it straight to me.
A delivery without any flair. Not satisfying at all.
I let out a groan as I eyed the letter's contents.
Dear Ruen,
I hope this finds you well. What on earth possessed you to head to the Academy?
I've looked into the magic beast traces, but I have no leads.
Stay safe.
—Arwen
"If even the boss doesn't know, who does...?"
The only clues I had were the magic beast energy lingering in my body and the black mage, Eugene.
"Sigh."
Looks like I'd have to step up again.
I carefully folded the letter and tucked it into my desk drawer before leaving the office.
Creak. Right in front of me was Eugene's door—the one I'd smashed and then fixed.
"Ahem."
I strode right up, cleared my throat dramatically, and flung it wide open.
"Have you cleaned it all up?!"
Eugene jumped in surprise at my shout, dropping whatever he was holding.
A single sheet of paper fluttered down to the now-spotless room floor.
I could see the densely packed text on the white background.
"Hm. Looks like you have."
I murmured as I narrowed my eyes and read the title.
[Detailed reasons and formal request for withdrawal...]
"Ah, no, this is..."
Eugene reacted with uncharacteristic fluster. And for good reason—the title said it all.
[Withdrawal Application]
I couldn't make out the details below, but I didn't need to.
"Rejected." "Pardon?" "Ssss.REJECTED!!"
I barked it firmly at Eugene as he scrambled to snatch up the paper.
I couldn't just let a new slave—no, precious manpower—slip away so easily.
"...Yes, understood." "That's right, good think—"
I was just about to smile in satisfaction at his quick surrender when—
Thud.
Eugene suddenly dropped to his knees before me and bowed his head.
"Please kill me." "Wha—huh?" "I've been thinking wrong. This is far more certain."
I couldn't follow his train of thought.
One minute he's waving a withdrawal form, the next he's begging for death.
All I'd done was yell at him to clean up his pigsty of a room...
"Did I scold you too harshly...?"
Was I too scary...? Maintaining professor dignity was good, but I hadn't expected this.
"......Pardon?"
At my tentative question, Eugene whipped his head up to stare at me.
His eyes screamed utter disbelief.
"Well... I thought maybe that's how kids are these days..." "Even you, Professor, thinking of me as one of those modern ki—no, never mind."
Eugene started to retort but cut himself off with a sigh.
"Don't you know black mages are subject to summary execution just for being alive?" "Oh, that's why?"
But I wasn't clueless.
Hearing my response, Eugene blinked his wide eyes repeatedly.
"What other reason could there be..."
Avoiding his gaze, I waggled the fingers behind my back and drew in the ambient mana.
"Have you ever gone around killing innocent people or looting?" "Absolutely not."
His tone was resolute. I liked it.
The moment he spoke, the surrounding mana waveform drew a perfectly smooth curve without a single ripple.
So, that answer was the truth.
"Then you're good. Just live." "......"
Eugene's shoulders shook as he closed his eyes.
"Then I'll turn myself in to the temple." "Why?!"
Despite my flawless persuasion, his resolve held firm.
"I'm fated to rampage eventually. Better to..."
And he wasn't just talking.
Eugene straightened from his kneel and charged toward the window like he was about to leap.
"Hey, hey, hold on." "Don't worry. I won't mention your name."
He wasn't listening at all. Puberty hitting late, huh?
In the end, I had to use magic to yank his body back before we could continue the talk.
"Alright, deep breath. Let's think calmly." "I'm already perfectly calm..."
Even as he said it, Eugene closed his eyes and took a deep breath. For a teen angst case, he was handling it well.
"So what if you use a bit of black magic." "...You're the only one in the Empire who could say that."
Eugene sighed and reached a hand into the air.
Magic beast energy rippled from his palm, blanketing the space.
"This is magi. Every minute, every second, it whispers for me to kill everything in sight."
"Can't you just ignore it?" "......It's magi. You think that's possible?"
Guess not.
Eugene eyed me smacking my lips in disappointment and continued with fresh exasperation.
"The magi is steadily corroding my body. I'm suppressing it for now, but..." "But?" "It'll leak out eventually. I'm doomed to execution anyway."
He spoke of his own death with calm detachment.
This time, I didn't like his resoluteness.
"Then why'd you come to the Academy?" "......I had less time left than I thought."
So detached.
"Hmm."
I furrowed my brow, organizing my thoughts.
No matter how I looked at it, Eugene wanted to live.
So that calm wasn't acceptance.
Resignation. Pure resignation.
What was the simplest way to convince someone like that?
I curled my lips into a grin and raised my right hand.
"But I've got it too." Hope, that is.
The same magi as his bloomed from my palm.
"...Pardon?" "Ahem."
Eugene stared in blank disbelief, like he couldn't trust his eyes.
"You can do it too—Ruen's One-Week Special Lecture!"
The first enrollee in my brand-new course.
A spark of light flickered in Eugene's dumbfounded gaze.