A Letter from the North
A Letter from the North
Thank goodness.
I let out a small sigh the moment I saw the subject line.
The north was larger than most people imagined. Searching it without specialized personnel was difficult. The relentless snowfall. The unstable ground that could collapse without warning. The near impossibility of sustaining food supplies locally. Every part of it posed a challenge.
Even if Danya, Rina, and I had joined the search, we would plainly have been more hindrance than help, so we had withdrawn. The personnel the Third Princess brought with her included capable trackers—Karen among them. Still, I had expected them to find her quickly, of course.
But even so, the rescue came faster than I had anticipated, and for that I was grateful.
If no word had arrived within a few days, I had been prepared to push myself and head back north regardless of the circumstances.
Whatever else was going on, I needed to reach the post office as soon as possible and read the full telegram—
"Student Ian."
A frigid voice cut in. Cold as frost.
I looked up to find Professor Violet staring down at me. Her gaze was utterly icy.
Right. I left for the north without a word.
Violet was the professor in charge of the Mages' Class. She had also helped me considerably during the disciplinary committee hearings.
Mm.
Even by my own reckoning, I had plenty to answer for.
The vein bulging visibly on her forehead seemed entirely sincere.
"Yes, Professor."
"Did you hear what I said?"
The force behind Professor Violet's voice made my whole body prickle.
If I answered with "My ears were open, but my eyes were on my Kirtos terminal," she would probably drag me off and turn me into a test subject.
"I was listening, but..."
"Then what did I say?"
"That you were chosen by the academy's students as the top-ranked beauty among the professors. Congratulations, Professor."
— Crack!
A sound came from below. I glanced down and saw a white piece of chalk driven halfway through my desk.
A small bead of cold sweat trickled down my back.
Not working, huh.
Professor Violet looked down at me without so much as a twitch of her lips. She had clearly been talking about the Promotion Battle. The timing was right for that announcement to be made.
"You were speaking about the Promotion Battle."
"At least that much would register if your ears were merely open. Surely you, Student Ian, were not keeping even your ears closed? I would not think so. After all, for a student whose supervising professor has looked after him so diligently, shutting his ears to do something else would be a poor way to repay that care."
Smile.
Professor Violet's smile was as sharp as a rapier.
"Since I believe in you, Student Ian—shall we attempt some more specific details?"
I ran my brain at full speed.
Specific details, she said...
"For this Promotion Battle, all first-year students will gather for a battle royale—ahem. A point-based survival competition. Points are earned by defeating monsters or special variants. The objective of the exam is, naturally, to survive as long as possible while accumulating the maximum points."
"And the location?"
"...A deserted island."
Professor Violet's eyebrow twitched slightly. Her expression read: Was this kid actually listening?
"Continue."
"Though it is a survival exercise, no actual lives are at stake."
"Yes. Next."
"The strength of the protective barrier is distributed differentially based on term grades. Students with higher grades receive higher survivability, while those with lower grades receive less. High-ranked students gain the advantage of a reduced elimination risk. Low-ranked students face a certain penalty, but at the same time it serves as an opportunity to hunt stronger opponents and stage an upset."
The sharpness in Professor Violet's brow softened considerably. What replaced it was something closer to mild bewilderment.
"You really were listening, weren't you?"
"It is the voice of the academy's most flawless professor, after all. The participants will need to form their teams with care."
"...I had not mentioned that last part yet."
Whoops.
"Ahaha... It seemed like a natural conclusion..."
"Well, fine. Clever students do sometimes mistake deduction for fact."
Swish.
As Professor Violet turned away, the corner of her mouth seemed to lift—ever so slightly. Or was I imagining it?
"As Student Ian said, you will all need to form teams. There are no restrictions on faculty or class. You may even team with students from the Aether Class to secure an advantageous position..."
Her announcement continued in that cool tone. The size of the island. Its approximate terrain. The fact that they would travel by large sailing ship and drop onto the island. The essential details she had not yet covered now followed one after another.
...Well, I survived.
I resolved never to let my attention stray in front of Violet again.
◆
After class ended, I headed straight for the post office.
The Post Office was an information infrastructure operated by the Empire.
One might wonder—couldn't they simply send that over the network? But the Kirtos Network was a highly specialized communication magic, usable only within Lichten Academy. Its very maintenance was shrouded in mystery. It was counted among the academy's Three Great Enigmas—magic that existed as if by a collective shrug of "Huh? This thing's here, I guess?"
Maintaining a network like that across an entire continent was impossible.
In this world, information was written on paper and transmitted via "telegram." Magical tools for recording sound or images did exist, but text was the most compact medium.
Telegrams were delivered in three ways.
First, as in most classic fantasy settings: physical delivery via trained birds or couriers. Slow and inefficient, but cost-effective.
Second, physical delivery via portals. In this case, batches of telegrams were gathered and sent through portals in bulk. Fast, but expensive.
Third, delivery via mages' transmission and reception magic. Naturally, this was absurdly expensive, and since not every city had resident mages—in other words, no established communication network—its usable range was extremely limited.
With enough money, you were not limited to just one method.
For instance, you could use mages to relay a message to a portal checkpoint, cross a vast distance through the portal in one leap, and then use mages again on the other side. That approach was so fast that information arrived practically in real time.
"A telegram addressed to you, Sir Ian."
The Third Princess had used exactly that method, so the telegram she had sent was hot off the line. Not even thirty minutes had passed since its transmission—the entire time I had been trapped in class.
————
[Sender] Asteria
[Subject] Lady Asilia has been rescued. Her condition is well.
[Body]
Ian.
I cannot say whether you are keeping well.
I, myself, spend my days pondering what it is I might give to you. Each night, I think of you and, together with Lady Asilia, honor only you...
————
Pfft!
What was this? Why did it suddenly read like a love letter—no, a message between lovers?
————
...Surely you are not doing anything untoward with it.
For your reference, telegrams passing through the Empire's information network are relatively safe from interception if the first two lines contain frivolous nonsense of this sort. Though all my letters are intercepted anyway, so it makes little difference.
Putting that aside, to the main point.
Sasha Asilia, the Snowblade Swordmaster, has been successfully rescued.
That girl Sharon found her with truly astonishing speed.
Both Sharon and the Snowblade Swordmaster are currently recuperating.
The Snowblade Swordmaster is suffering from slight exhaustion, but her condition is surprisingly sound. She said it was fortunate that not much time had passed. Sharon's recovery, on the other hand, will require more observation. It seems she pushed herself quite hard.
As you requested, a priest of the imperial court remains to watch over them.
With this, I feel at ease, as though I have repaid a portion of my debt to you.
For the record, affairs in the north are now more than halfway resolved. As I said before, a month should suffice.
P.S. The Snowblade Swordmaster asked after your well-being, so I answered that you are hale and hearty. When I said I would send a telegram, she told me to tell you not to come all the way out here. She seemed more worried about you, actually. It amazes me how you manage to create a woman at every destination. At this rate, you ought to inherit my title.
P.P.S. I am normally much better at writing letters. Please understand that I wrote this hastily because I was in a rush.
————
...How to put this.
A telegram that was quintessentially Princess Asteria.
What kind of confidence did it take to teach someone how to avoid interception while knowing full well the letter would be intercepted?
"More to the point, I could never afford to send a telegram this expensive anyway."
She was probably paying some sort of special imperial rate.
In any case, it was a relief that my master's condition was better than I had feared. I had asked the imperial priest to remain just in case, and if the priest vouched for her health, then she was genuinely all right.
Though—why did that closing line feel faintly ominous? Probably my imagination.
"Is there a problem with the telegram's contents?"
At the postal clerk's worried expression, I hurriedly waved my hands.
"Ah, no. Thank you."
"I see. Occasionally telegrams arrive damaged, so I asked out of concern. Will you be sending a reply? Up to five lines are covered by the sender's payment."
"Ah..."
I hesitated for a moment.
It was truly a relief that my master's health was fine, but one thing still troubled me. Could she truly rest at ease in a place still marked by Richard's shadow?
I pulled a slip of paper from my pocket and handed it to the clerk.
"Could you send it with this?"
"Yes, of course."
It was one of the notices I had picked up from the Student Council.