Chapter 103
Chapter 103
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 103
Chapter Title: Delaiten's Seasonal Festival
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For the first time since the 1388th class enrollment, every grade assembled in the grand auditorium of Yongryun Hall.
After a brief roll call, the confirmation procedures for festival preparations by class and club proceeded, forcing Rain, who was handling stage management, to bustle about below the podium.
This is why being a lowly first-year officer is so pitiful... Once it was confirmed that all procedures were flawless, Chancellor Madelia Page ascended the podium.
“Greetings, cadets. First, I want to say you've all worked hard enduring the tumultuous trials of the first semester's two exams.”
“...!”
“This festival is your well-deserved rest after surviving that journey, but also a chance to shore up your weaknesses.”
Quite a few luminaries from the magic world attended Delaiten's festival, offering cadets a prime opportunity to showcase their magic.
“Now then, carry the pride of being cadets of the Empire's foremost magic university in your hearts, and craft a festival that delights every visitor.”
“Yes, Chancellor!”
“And this festival's slogan is...”
Madelia, receiving the program from Rain, flinched as her expression darkened briefly, her voice trailing off.
With a dignified cough, she raised her hand vigorously.
Normally, the chancellor would recite the festival chant, followed by the cadets echoing it back, but she seemed resolved to skip it. I would've done the same.
“Very well, now raise the curtain on Delaiten's 1388th seasonal festival with your own hands! Good luck to you all, and may it be a joyous one!”
* * *
As soon as Delaiten's gates opened, crowds poured in.
Thanks to the diverse spectacles conjured by some three hundred cadets, and the school's ample funds for preparations, the seasonal festival ranked among the Empire's top three.
Noble families visited, rural locals came to gawk at the magic capital, and adventurers showed up in droves, likely scouting promising party members.
With so many visitors came more incidents, so student council officers and committee members took turns donning armbands to patrol the grounds during the festival.
Fortunately, Rain's shift didn't start until the third day, leaving him time to help with his class's festival in the mornings.
“Gah, gaaaah!”
“S-save meee!”
Audience members fleeing pell-mell from Class [Cheonggang]'s ambitious “Haunted House” had their class rep clenching his fist in triumph.
“Ha! Another smashing success!”
The magic's principle was simple.
Just craft a moonless forest or ruined house, far easier than the finals barrier array.
The augmentation space from the “World” rune—typically a flaw with its abstract, intangible constructs—proved advantageous here.
The hazy visibility only heightened the terror.
Once audiences were sucked into Rain's spell, [Cheonggang] cadets in ghost makeup leaped out in turn to scare them witless.
“Whoa, incredible! My heart nearly exploded.”
“That's magic?!”
“Magic rediscovered! What an experience!”
Some bolted in fright midway, while others raved excitedly. Tastes vary wildly.
“If you enjoyed it, spread the word!”
“You bet! I'll drag a whole crowd back!”
Watching the reactions, Rain couldn't help smiling at these novel uses for the “World” rune.
One group, two groups went by, then suddenly word-of-mouth had lines forming, requiring crowd control.
By then, smiles were history—sweat poured like rain. This was 5th-circle magic, after all.
“How many are showing up?”
“Let's see... easily over a hundred.”
“Who said to spread the word?”
“Me, young master!”
“You, come here.”
The barrier calculations now raced against the clock, but Class [Cheonggang] had more than just Rain Ludwig as talent.
“I said I'd help one more time, so I'm keeping my word. Don't get the wrong idea.”
A boy in rolled-up uniform blouse spread parchment beside Rain Ludwig and pulled out ink and quill, drawing gasps from onlookers.
“Isn't that... Weiber from Rohwinen Academy?!”
“A disciple of one of the Eight Great Academies aiding a noble scion—?!”
“Even if they're classmates?!”
The [Cheonggang] cadets, already stunned from the volleyball match, just cheered wildly. Rain asked skeptically.
“You get my barrier formula?”
“Think Rohwinen Academy's a pushover?”
A brief silence, then the boys exchanged grins as their brushes danced across parchments in rivalry.
“Ooh, oooh...!”
“So fast... insanely fast...!”
“Not quite Ludwig's speed, but impressive...!”
He couldn't match Rain's pace, but solo-drawing what took the props team all hands on deck? Proof of excellence.
Even with Weiber's aid, though, keeping up with visitor turnover seemed doubtful.
No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than a girl with ginger hair sauntered up, arms crossed arrogantly.
“Looks like you need help? If you're desperate, beg the great Christa Warden! But you couldn't possibly—”
“Help me, quick, please. I'm dying.”
“—! Lifelong rival or not, groveling to me... Huh? Fine.”
Rain's frank plea derailed Christa, who had fifteen lines prepped through an all-nighter; she dazedly unrolled her parchment, skipping thirteen.
'Something's off... like I missed a cue...'
Yet amid the confusion, she copied Rain's barrier beside her at blistering speed, eliciting collective awe.
“Magic's genius trio!”
“What's this, speed-drawing barriers the festival theme?”
“No, but all three are amazing!”
Their sweaty performance drew even bigger crowds, landing Class [Cheonggang]'s “Haunted House” among the first day's top three hits.
For the record, Casena and Gertrude were on patrol duty, escaping this hell.
* * *
Day two brought the seasonal athletics meet, kicking off with the four major magic volleyball clubs vying for supremacy.
A sport only mages could play, its spectacle packed Dragon Hole Field.
Griffinballer and Snakemaster won their blocks, setting up a finals clash on the last day. Griffinballer had a 99% shot at victory, but...
Other events fused magic and sports: obstacle relays, magic ball rolling, hoop-tossing—met with cheers, ending in laughter.
“My turn now.”
Day three shifted from classes to clubs showcasing magic.
Rain donned his armband as scheduled, patrolling the vast campus.
Watching visitors consult guidebooks and visit clubs of interest, a familiar voice called.
“Rain!”
Turning, he gaped at the robust elderly man approaching with firm staff-steps—black hair streaked white, yet sturdier than any laborer.
“Grandfather?”
So unexpected, his jaw dropped.
It was Skalji—Skalji Ludwig.
My grandfather, who trained me in Bell Quirius awakening. His fame reached beyond mages to common folk; whispers erupted.
“Whoa, Skalji Ludwig.”
“Magic's top authority!”
“The former Magic Star?! In the flesh?”
Ignoring the murmurs, Skalji strode straight to Rain, clapping his shoulder firmly.
“Proud of you—truly proud. As expected of my heir! Topping the golden generation twice! Ha ha ha!”
“Grandfather, what brings you...?”
“To see my exemplary grandson, of course? Also submitted enrollment apps for our magic school's fledglings.”
Noble decorum ingrained over decades spared beard-stroking or head-patting in public—thank goodness.
“Hey now, you troublemaker! Don't distract a working student council lackey!”
That chilled Skalji's eyes: Chief Professor Marhena, leaning on her own staff.
“Thought you'd finally kicked it, so I came down—gods are cruel. Still kicking, that tenacious bastard.”
“Hmph, pot calling kettle, you hag?”
A commoner half-speaking to a grand noble might shock, but knowing their history? Less so.
“Gotta deal with that witch first. Rain, we'll catch up later.”
Marhena and Skalji bantered crudely toward the main building; seeing non-blood kin draw such bright smiles from Grandfather was a first.
'They're close friends...'
If aged Lin reunited with his hero party, would he smile like that? What tales would they share?
“Slacking off instead of working? Ballsy for a first-year peon, Rain Ludwig?”
Shattering the reverie: the voice Rain least wanted to hear at school—No. 1, Student Council President Valensidis.
Sneaking close, scheming some torment—infuriatingly smug.
“Can't just leave you unsupervised. You'd bolt and slack again.”
“No? I wouldn't?”
“I decide that. Follow me. Gotta keep you close to watch. No choice for a lowly officer.”
One more word from that trap, and he'd curse the black mage brat to grind his tongue—tempting, but it'd make Rain the lunatic.
Plus, defying the president as an officer? Gossip fodder for the clueless.
Endure... for now, trail obediently as demanded.
“...?”
Something felt off.
Expected torment via scandals, but Valensidis meticulously inspected each clubroom, occasionally cracking faint smiles.
Pride from helming the festival start-to-finish?
“Hey, President! Young Master Rain! Hello!”
Patrolling led to the Rural Development Magic Club room; Vice President Joën greeted warmly.
“How's it going? A worthwhile festival?”
“Thanks to you, President! Showed our efforts to so many—even snagged funding pledges!”
Valensidis had divided zones finely: entertainment and magic demo.
- Fun-seekers wouldn't glance at rural magic otherwise.
He refined paths too: revelers indulged, seekers found utility.
Rain conceded that efficiency... Useful if he ever became president.
Joën suddenly bowed to Rain too.
“And thanks to you, young master.”
“Me? Why?”
“You protected this club. Festival time—gotta thank you.”
Flabbergasted, Rain gawked slack-jawed.
Hadn't crossed his mind?
Valensidis grinned, nodding agreement—warmer than his usual sneer.
“Joën, keep it up. We've more to check—gotta go.”
“Yes, President! See you!”
Valensidis dragged Rain through countless clubs.
Non-noble ones welcomed fervently; the conman's popularity astonished.
'Yeah, still a crook.'
Twilight sank beyond the Red Mountains, dusk glow seductively veiling the ground.
“About to start.”
He halted at a high vantage overlooking the quad.
Professors including Elin and Carolline (“Cat”) mounted a makeshift stage; crowds gathered.
The festival highlight: fireworks.
Ultimate festival magic, mastered only by mana-control virtuosos.
“Remember what I told you? About observing people.”
Gazing intrigued, Valensidis abruptly spoke. No one nearby—casual reply.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Trained that way from harvest onward, but reaching this level? My choice.”
Chancellor's speech ended; first flame bloomed a lotus in the night sky, gasps rippling.
“At first, I killed the ordered targets without question. But on the tenth, unspeakable regret unveiled the truth.”
“...?”
“No reason they had to die... Master's orders weren't absolute truth.”
Chill raced Rain's spine; he turned to Valensidis.
The black-hearted bastard surely hid ulterior motives.
Yet the second firework lit eyes startlingly serene.
Unlike his flawless mask concealing all.
“Started scrutinizing targets since: who they were, beliefs, if killing was truly the only way.”
Next, Professors Kaile and Elin Ludwig fired flames entwining vine-like, merging into a blinding blossom with a boom.
Cheers peaked, shaking the quad deafeningly.
“Faked completions often after. Caught a few times, lost master's trust somewhat.”
“Why spill this now?”
“Still so impatient.”
“Mind your own.”
For that instant—truly one—he flashed a gentle smile... like Rista's or Brim's.
“Lucky I chose not to kill you on orders. That's the prelude.”
No murderer's face. Shouldn't be possible. Rain's voice iced colder than expected.
“Who're you to judge life or death? Try that grin before the families of those you 'judged'.”
Golden curtains exploded skyward amid blasts; sharp silence gripped them.
One hair's breadth from mutual annihilation via magic—such tension, distance, relation.
Unsurprising; that's always been us.
“Great causes demand sacrifice.”
“What?”
“Justified past, present, future kills that way—but no more. Atonement for life after inaugurating the new era.”
Self-mocking smile laced with pain, resignation. It terrified Rain.
No more talk.
Further words might render facing him as foe impossible.
“Not confessing to this killer. Find a priest. Pay your debts proper.”
Turning decisively as the final boom—Chancellor's firework sketched illusory blooms dazzlingly.
Sparks filled the air.
Acrid scent blooming in summer breeze, post-blast hush pierced by roars.
“A false, unworthy youth of deceit, but you made its end enjoyable.”
So softly amid the sensory din he'd have missed: Valensidis melted into darkness.
“Thanks, Rain Ludwig.”
Unbelievable words froze him mid-stride, whipping around—but gone.
Summer had arrived.
* * *