Rewards of Merit

The monsters were crushed flat, as if a swarm of gnats had been slapped dead against an open palm.

In the same instant she crushed them, Ermia sealed them in ice with cold magic. The corpses froze solid before a single drop of blood could run. The plaza's paving stones were already smashed to pieces, but the headmaster's cleanup would not allow them to be fouled with blood on top of it.

Students who had been cheering Ermia's arrival fell silent before the sheer transcendence of her power. Ishilla and Kariel—outstanding even among their peers—and the professors who had joined them somewhere along the way blinked as if they could not trust their own eyes.

"Th-that... how much mana would you even have to pour in to make something like that possible..."

"Lady Ermia has surpassed Lord Grendel."

"Was she always this strong? I don't think she was."

Even a layman like me could tell that flattening several hundred monsters into dried fish in a single breath was extraordinary. How much more astonishing must it have looked to people who actually understood magic?

Honestly, I had never seen Ermia fight at full strength before. I couldn't begin to guess how much stronger she had become, but one thing was certain: the air around her had changed. People like to talk about aura. It felt as if that spiritual presence itself had climbed a whole rank.

The man in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the black robe trembled as well, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"Impossible. A mere mortal—how could you wield Lord Nereus's power...!"

"Oh, that? Turns out if you just do it, it works. Like this, see?"

"W-what?! Gyaaaaaah—!!"

Ermia looked down on him from the air, her gaze cold. At a single gesture, the black-robed figure's smoke-like body began to lock in place.

Thoom. Thung—!

It was as if she had shut him inside a transparent cube and was shrinking it down. Little by little, the black robe's body compressed into a perfect cube. The physical force Arthur and Betz had thrown everything against in vain, Ermia applied as easily as breathing.

Inside the dwindling cube, the black robe's hideous eye rolled wildly. Everything but that bloodshot orb was swallowed in smoke, which only made it more revolting.

"The variable. I have to find the variable. Is it you? Or you?!"

"Eek—eeek!!"

"That's disgusting. What even is that...!"

"A mere human could never have realized it with no help at all!!!"

His grotesque wail rang across the plaza. Ermia seemed to need every scrap of her concentration now; she bit down on her lip and poured her whole mind into holding the cube.

The thing's eye swept over the onlookers ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one by one. He kept ranting about a variable—what in the world was he talking about? The bloodshot pupil began, slowly, to turn my way.

Terrified that meeting its gaze would follow me into my dreams, I ducked my head without a shred of shame. And I told the people beside me—Eilenna, Ishilla, Kariel, Brunok, Ruri, and the rest of my acquaintances—to look away as well.

"Everyone, turn your heads. They've always said you don't meet a ghost's eyes, and even if you do, you never let on that you've noticed."

"I-is that true? Ugh... this is why I hate the undead. Elves have the worst compatibility with them."

"Eek! Master, this is scary!"

"So turn your head. No point ruining your luck for nothing."

I couldn't stand the unease. Once this was over, I was throwing salt on the ground.

We stared at the dirt for nearly ten seconds. The eye had flicked past each person in about a second, so we ought to be in the clear by now, right? Slowly, I lifted my head.

"H-hurk!"

"It's you. It was you. I wondered where that stench of Maria was coming from—you loathsome lackey...!!"

The eye hadn't moved at all. Clear and unblinking, it wept blood and kept staring straight at me.

For a moment I froze like a rabbit before a predator. Fear past a certain point really does lock the body solid. All those stories where someone faces a killer and dies without landing a single blow—they weren't exaggerating.

"Kang Jinwoo!! Get down!!!"

"Aaaah!!"

Ermia shouted at me through gritted teeth. Her voice snapped me back to myself, and I curled in as fast as I could.

But the thing's death throes were faster.

Shwaaak—!

The eye, pouring a fanatic rage at the sight of me, punched a hole through the cube that bound it with desperate strength. Through a gap no wider than a keyhole, it fired mana as thick and sticky as tar. Even I, a complete outsider to magic, could tell it was mana—power condensed that darkly. A single shot that deserved the name last resort.

"Uh... uhh...?"

That shot struck my heart. I couldn't say for certain it was the heart, but it had hit the left side of my chest, so... probably the heart?

"Haha—hahaha!!! Look at you. You disgusting dog of Maria! If you meant to hide, you should have hidden to the end. The variable dies n—"

"Shut up. You piece of trash."

KRRRK—CRUNCH—

With Ermia's merciless declaration, the cube finally compressed to the size of an egg. The grotesque thing wasn't talking anymore, so she must have truly finished it.

Sensing that it was over, I dropped to my knees as if collapsing. It wasn't the slack of relief. Strength drained outward from somewhere around my heart, and my knees simply folded under me, half against my will.

Eye contact, the thing's last struggle, Ermia's finish—one continuous sequence. It had all happened in what you could only call an instant, a blink, so no one could have blocked it.

"J-Jinwoo. What do we do. What am I supposed to—what do I—sob. Hic!"

"Wait. Wait, Master. This can't be happening. Uh—?"

"Kang Jinwoo! Hold on, just a little longer. Shadows! Bring an imperial priest, now!!"

Eilenna's hands shook as tears spilled down her face. Ishilla, too, had no idea what to do; her eyes had lost their way. Kariel at least kept her composure and ordered her hidden guards to fetch a priest.

I felt along my left chest and my back. Despite taking that ominous mana dead-on, there was no wound. Even so, there ought to have been some tingling, some strange dulling of sensation...

Huh. I'm fine.

Not even that. My heart was perfectly all right. Had the strength leaving me just been the crash after extreme fear?

I kept clutching my chest, full of doubt, and Ermia shot over in a blur.

"Kang Jinwoo!! Are you all right? Damn it—you took an evil god's mana head-on... The Saintess is in the south right now."

"Ah, Lady Ermia, I'm fi—"

"If I fly now, I might still make it in time. If I flash-freeze you with cold magic first, you might last longer."

"No, no, no! I really am fine!!"

"H-huh?"

I was not doing the Captain America ending.

I shot to my feet to prove I was intact. Standing up that fast left me a little dizzy, but I held myself ramrod straight anyway. The people around ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠us—Eilenna and Ishilla especially—stared at me like startled rabbits.

"Hic—really. You're really okay? Sniff!"

"Master. How many fingers am I holding up? Answer me, quickly!"

"Eilenna, I'm genuinely fine. Ishilla, quit messing around."

"I'm not messing around..."

After that I kept working to prove there was nothing wrong with me, and before long the capital guard, troops from several noble houses, and imperial forces arrived on the scene.

And so the midnight assault on the Academy came to an end.

Most of the destroyed facilities were in the central plaza, but the Academy declared an early break all the same. Repairs, a full tally of the damages, tracing the route the terrorists had used to get in—the work had piled up like a mountain.

I had been planning to head home once the festival ended, and the vacation had started early besides. At this rate I could just go back to Silbaerin...

Or so I thought.

So how had I ended up here, doing this?

"Half-kneel, then rise. Half-kneel, then rise. Half-kneel, then..."

"Aigh—Master... quiet! It's about to start."

"Ishilla, my etiquette didn't look weird, right? It was all fine, right?"

"Kang Jinwoo. Don't be so nervous. It's nothing like as grand as you think."

Easy for you to say. That's the standard of someone who just became the strongest mage alive.

The imperial great hall made a show of its refined design. A throne of overwhelming dignity occupied the dais, and in the luxurious chairs spread before it sat high officials of the Empire, nobles of illustrious houses, and the knights who had fought, every face drawn tight with tension. Wedged in among them were Ermia, Ishilla, Arthur, Betz, and me.

A full week had passed since the attack on the Academy. In only a week, they had arranged a ceremony to weigh merits and bestow rewards. It was too large, and too many people were tangled up in it, to dismiss as a mere incident at the Academy. It was the sort of affair that could have swollen into a national crisis, and so the imperial house itself was handing out the honors.

And yet, for reasons I could not fathom, my name was on the list.

The day the Academy was attacked, all I had done was nearly die to a monster while grilling chicken skewers, and then nearly die again at the end when some bizarre energy blast hit me. For the record, right after the black mana struck, an imperial priest summoned by Kariel examined me—and sure enough, I was fine. The priest must have thought something was off, because he threw in a handful of other prayers besides. Thanks to that, my body felt much lighter. I'd been worn down with fatigue and muscle aches from prepping the festival stall, and all of it was gone.

That alone already feels like more reward than I deserve.

A commoner cook getting the full blessing package from the princess's personal priest—wasn't that prize enough? What award could I possibly be owed, that they'd dragged me here? I had no idea.

"This is the etiquette you taught me. If anyone calls me out, I'm naming you on the spot, Ishilla."

"I'm not some snot-nosed child. Do you really want to be that childish?"

"I'm joking. I have to do something or the nerves won't let go."

"Haa... Oh! His Imperial Majesty is entering...!"

I was killing time in a whisper with Ishilla when the great doors of the hall opened. With the master of ceremonies' ringing voice, the Emperor of the Empire made his entrance.

Doom, doom—!

The court musicians struck their instruments with everything they had. Leonik, Emperor of the Empire, walked with lofty composure, his eyes fixed only ahead.

Everyone, myself included, rose from their chairs and dropped into a half-kneel, angled toward the Emperor, shouting the cry the etiquette demanded. Only once Leonik had taken the throne did we all rise again, knees unfolding in crisp, disciplined motion.

Ishilla, who had been humoring my jokes a moment ago, was a high noble of the Empire after all; she observed the forms with a serious, practiced ease. I prayed I wouldn't get it wrong and scrambled to copy the rest of them. I had spent my whole life in a Confucian country. How was I supposed to have medieval imperial etiquette down perfectly?

"That will do. All of you, be seated."

Leonik's mouth opened, and a voice like a cavern rolled through the hall. At his word, people sat again.

A weighty face—hair crimson, beard flushed the same red. That mane, thick as a lion's, still made an emperor stepping toward his later years look like a beast of prey.

Then the awarding of merits for the attack on the Academy began in earnest.

The reason the guard had been nowhere in sight was that the monsters had staged a diversion on the capital's outskirts. In their own way, they had been out there fighting monsters and saving people. Those among the guards who had distinguished themselves received awards, great and small, in turn. It seemed they were working up from the lowest ranks and stations.

In that case, shouldn't I have been squeezed in among those guards? But for some reason, my name was never called.

Next came the knights—Arthur, Betz, and the rest—and the Academy students who had contributed greatly to defeating the monsters. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ishilla went up in that round and was granted a treasure.

Uh... the only person left now was Ermia, who had, by any measure, earned the highest merit of all.

What. That's it? It just ends like this?

Ermia's name—the one who had finished the crisis alone, as anyone could see—was never called, and the ceremony ended. I did my best to hide how dazed I was and somehow muddled through the closing etiquette.

The notice drove the point home: it really was over. The mood had loosened into a fair amount of murmuring, and I turned to Ishilla.

"Why wasn't I called? Did I do something wrong?"

"Pfft—kh..."

"Why are you laughing. Don't laugh, answer m—"

"Are you Sir Kang Jinwoo?"

Far from answering, Ishilla was laughing at me in some strange way. In the instant I demanded a reply, a sharply composed elderly gentleman addressed me.

"Yes. That's me, but..."

"I will escort you this way. We ask that Lady Belfast accompany us as well."

"All right. Come on, Kang Jinwoo."

"Kh—hahaha! Have a good time, Master."

I was starting to suspect a hidden camera tucked among all those ornate decorations. Ermia followed the old gentleman with perfect calm and led me along. Ishilla didn't even try to hold in her laughter as she saw me off.

Ishilla, you little—you knew something...

I followed the gentleman in silence for a while, then spoke.

"Lady Ermia. Do you know something? Where are we going?"

"Sorry I couldn't explain ahead of time. I was asked to keep it a secret."

"What? What do you mean..."

"We have arrived. Please observe the courtesy due His Majesty. I will withdraw."

We reached the door at the end of the corridor, and the old gentleman stepped back as if his duty ended there. Before my flustered self could get a word out, the door before us opened on its own.

And the person who came into view as it opened—

"Yes. So you are that black-haired cook. Our daughter is quite fond of your food..."

"E-eh?"

"I thought a more private setting was called for, so I summoned you separately. Does it discomfort you? Even if it does, it cannot be helped. Compose yourself, sit, and see that you are not uncomfortable."

Leonik—the Emperor who, only moments ago, had sat in majestic state upon the throne and solemnly bestowed the rewards of merit. The Emperor of the Aethernia Empire radiated a lion's presence and bade me sit.

I think I would have been more comfortable receiving an award out in the ceremony, with everyone else. A private audience with the Emperor of the Empire...

This was a luxury I had never imagined, and certainly never asked for.