Escape, the Headmaster's Office, and the Princess of the Frozen Forest
The very moment Elena knelt at the center of the sparring arena and cried out—
"Master! With the sword path you taught me, I have cleared away the weeds!"
The girl's proud declaration split the air above the grand training grounds.
Every gaze followed the direction of Elena's crimson eyes—thousands of stares rained down like lightning upon a bench tucked deep in the shadowed corner of the spectator stands.
Hrk! Kgh! Kgh!
The cheap peppermint candy he'd been rolling around in his mouth went straight down his airway with a gulp. Ethan pounded his chest, coughing again and again.
When he wiped his eyes and looked up, the scene before him was nothing short of a painting of hell. Thousands of students, the professors in the judges' seats, even the nobles in the VIP gallery clung to the railings, staring holes through him.
"……Master? That scrawny-looking guy?"
"He's wearing instructor uniform trousers…… Don't tell me he's the Class E instructor?!"
"He taught a mana-less failure swordsmanship like THAT?!"
The murmur of the stands turned into a massive tidal wave in an instant. Students and reporters came pouring down the stairs in a rush, parchment notebooks held high.
……I'm dead.
Cold sweat trickled down Ethan's spine. His one and only wish had been to lie low in a corner for a year, then loaf around burning through his imperial pension. And now that oblivious little brat had dropped the spotlight of the entire student body right on his head. If that mob got hold of him, his peaceful convalescence was over for good.
"Instructor! Just a moment for an interview……!"
"Did you truly coach that swordsmanship?!"
Reporters and students surged past the barrier. It was only a matter of time before he was surrounded.
Slap!
Ethan kicked off the bench, crushing his slippers flat, and shot upward—a lean, effortless leap. Stepping off the railing and cutting through the air, he landed without a sound beside Elena, who still knelt on the arena floor. The girl, head bowed deep in emotion, hadn't even noticed her master's approach.
"Master, I have honored your teachings to the very end……"
"Hey, dummy! Run first, talk later!"
Yank!
Ethan seized the collar of the coat he'd draped over Elena's shoulders and hauled her up like a misbehaving cat by the scruff of the neck.
"Eek?!"
"Talk later! They're coming!"
"H-huh……? M-Master's hand……?"
Even as she dangled from his grip, being dragged along, a rosy flush spread across Elena's cheeks. The coat steeped in her master's body heat, the iron strength gripping the back of her neck—hands clasped before her chest, the girl gazed up in rapture at Ethan's profile as he ran with her in his arms. Every one of those sensations was, to Elena, a divine blessing that melted her whole body.
"Halt right there, Instructor!"
The shouts of thousands crashed down behind him. Tucking Elena under one arm, Ethan kicked open the emergency iron door at the corner of the grand arena.
BANG—!
The massive iron door swung wide and the outside air came rushing in. Without a backward glance, Ethan bolted down the deserted forest path toward the Class E Annex—a tearful, desperate flight in defense of his comfortable retirement.
BANG—!
Ethan burst into the annex, slammed the door shut, and threw the iron bolt. Peering out the window, he saw his pursuers scattering toward the main building at the fork in the road.
"Haa, haa…… Thought I was a goner."
Shirt collar loosened, collapsed on the old sofa, Ethan shot a glare at the disciple standing before him. "Hey, brat! I told you to win, that's all—when did I ever tell you to broadcast my name to the whole world?! And what's with the grand bow?!"
But far from cowering, Elena knelt neatly before the sofa and sat formally upright. Having tidied her jet-black hair, the girl puffed out her chest, ruby-red eyes gleaming.
"Exalting my master's name is a disciple's duty! To hide my master after receiving grace as vast as the heavens would be a disloyalty deserving of divine punishment!"
"……Who said I was your master? I'm just a salaried instructor, I keep telling you."
"You are. From the moment you opened a new sword path for me, my life has belonged to you and you alone, Master."
"Ha, there's no reasoning with you. None at all……"
Ethan lamented, clawing at his hair. He'd planned to quietly nurse his pension along—how on earth had he ended up saddled with a time bomb like that?
But before his sigh had even left him, the backlash of his all-out sprint with Elena under his arm tore mercilessly into the festering depths of his innards. A searing ache like a red-hot iron skewer digging into him, and his soul circuits screamed.
Kgh! Kehk—!
With a cough that felt like it tore his throat open, dark crimson blood burst from between Ethan's lips. The handkerchief he fished out stained red, and drops slipping between his fingers soaked into the floor.
Drip. Drip-drip.
The instant she saw the blood, the color drained from Elena's once-proud face.
"M-Master……?!"
Elena's voice cracked as if tearing. Overwhelming guilt and terror spread like a storm through the girl's crimson eyes.
"Blood…… blood again……! Have you carved away more of your life force to enlighten a wretch like me……?!"
"No, kgh…… I just ran all of a sudden, my throat……"
"Do not make excuses! You have sacrificed yourself again because of my dull mind! Because of me……!"
Heavy teardrops fell from Elena's eyes, one after another, spreading across the bloodstains on the floor. With trembling hands, the girl dug into her breast and produced a jet-black porcelain bowl she had been carrying since morning. The moment the lid came off, a pungent medicinal stench filled the staff room.
"Please, you must drink it! It is a restorative tonic simmered all night from the thousand-year ginseng and dragonblood herb of my family's secret recipes! I would give my own blood if I could…… Master, you must not die……!"
The look in Elena's eyes as she thrust the bowl at him bordered on madness. She looked ready to slit her own wrist and feed him her blood if he didn't drink it that very instant.
"……Fine. I'll drink it, so stop crying."
Ethan shook his head and downed the bitter tonic in one gulp. It was bitter enough to scorch his throat, but the burning in his chest subsided, if only a little.
Tap.
Taking the empty bowl, Elena wiped her tears and stared with aching, wounded eyes at the blood on Ethan's lips. In that gaze, a blind worship of her master and a searing self-blame burned with terrible intensity.
Just as the bitterness of the tonic lingered on his tongue and he smacked his lips gloomily—
Tap, tap.
A light knocking on the annex window broke the silence. A pigeon sculpted of blue mana fluttered its wings beyond the glass—a summons messenger from the headmaster's office.
"Agh, seriously…… not even a moment's rest."
Grumbling, Ethan brushed himself off and rose. After telling Elena to guard the room, he headed for the headmaster's office at the very top of the main building.
The headmaster's office, top floor of the academy's main building—a space where ancient magical tomes exuded a faint aura of mana. Seraphim, the 7th-Circle Great Mage, set down his steaming teacup and heaved a deep sigh.
"You said you would quietly recuperate…… yet within your very first month you have turned the entire academy upside down, Ethan."
Ethan sank sideways into the guest sofa and answered with cynical ease. "Headmaster, old man, all I did was nap on a bench sucking on candy. The brat got worked up all on her own and blew out the barrier wall—why take it out on me? And forget about docking my pension."
But there was no playfulness in Seraphim's face. The old mage dropped a weighty stack of golden parchment documents onto the table.
"Hermann's disciplinary case is the least of it. A 3rd-Circle sword aura shattered by the hands of a mana-less failure…… and the 'Class E instructor' behind it. It has already reached the ears of the Central Noble Council and the Imperial Intelligence Bureau."
Seraphim's low voice pressed down upon the office. "Her Highness the First Imperial Princess, Sylvia de Helios, sat in the VIP gallery…… and she, too, watched your disciple's sword path. Her Highness's raging frost mana grows worse by the day, and the imperial family is at its wits' end. It is only a matter of time before the palace's eyes fall upon you."
"Royalty or central nobles, it's none of my concern."
Ethan rose from the sofa with a bored yawn. "I'm just going to quietly fill my one year here, collect my severance, and head off to the southern countryside. You worry about pleasing the palace, old man."
"……Your blade saved the continent, but the world never leaves its heroes in peace."
Leaving Seraphim's warning behind him, Ethan closed the door. He clicked his tongue at the troublesome premonition, but his mind held nothing but warm tea and a long, lazy nap.
The lush forest path back to the Class E Annex, walked alone after leaving the headmaster's office. Red sunset light filtered down through the branches—a peaceful dusk.
But the deeper he went into the secluded trail behind the annex, the more strangely the flow of air warped. A bone-chilling cold that pricked the skin came rushing in, and white puffs of breath scattered on the wind.
"……What is this? Did the season turn to midwinter or something?"
It was bizarre. Looking down, he found the dirt path and the blades of grass hardening beneath a bluish rime of frost.
Crackle…… crack.
With ominous splitting sounds, the oak trees froze white from the roots up. Sharp icicles formed on every leaf, and frost blossomed skyward—a massive wave of deep-freeze mana gnawing the surrounding temperature down to rock bottom.
Ugh…… ugh……!
From the clearing deep in the forest, along with the sound of ice shards scattering, a suppressed groan brushed past his ears. The moment Ethan pushed through the frosted brush and set foot in the clearing, the scene that unfolded was a frozen hellscape.
Dozens of meters of the clearing had turned into a vast blue sheet of ice, and spikes thrust toward the sky gleamed like spears and blades. And at the very heart of that deep freeze—
A girl crouched on the frigid ice, writhing in agony. Dazzling platinum-blonde waves, an ornate uniform styled like an imperial gown. But her slender fingertips and the nape of her neck were already sheathed in deep-blue ice, her whole body freezing over.
The First Imperial Princess of the Empire, Sylvia de Helios. Bearer of the greatest mana in imperial history—and of a cursed constitution that froze to death everything she touched. Her suppressed mana had crossed its critical threshold, stealing the life of every living thing around her even as it froze her to death: a tragic scene of ruin in progress.
The girl's whole body shook like an aspen leaf, and from between her blue-tinged lips poured a cold as bitter as tears of blood. In an absolute isolation no one could approach, she was meeting her death alone, in misery.
As the icy wind and frost raged furiously around her, Sylvia sensed a presence and lifted her head, blue lips trembling. Into her sapphire eyes, dim and glazing over, the figure of Ethan was reflected. The girl's chin rattled.
At the man trying to approach her, she screamed as if retching blood, sick with terror and despair. "S-stay back……! Everyone who comes close dies frozen! If you touch me…… you'll die too!"
The curse that froze a person's veins at a single touch. Everyone who had ever reached out to her had fled screaming, and so, in her despair, the girl tried to push him away.
But Ethan clicked his tongue and strode right in. Sidestepping the surging ice spikes with practiced footwork, he advanced to the very heart of the frozen ground without a moment's hesitation.
"What's a kid doing wrecking someone else's backyard like this? It's freezing out here."
When Ethan reached Sylvia, he dropped to one knee with a thud. And he thrust out his bare hand—no glove, nothing—toward the girl's frail fingers, frozen stiff and blue.
Snatch.
"—!"
Sylvia's eyes flew wide in shock. He's insane! His hand will freeze solid and shatter……!
But no sound of flesh freezing and bursting ever came. Instead, a miracle occurred.
Ethan's soul circuits were parched of mana and burning hot because of his curse. Those necrotic circuits, tormented by that thirst, began drinking in Sylvia's deep freeze like a sponge.
Fwoooosh—!
The heat within his body and the girl's cold locked together, and the rampaging mana was drawn into Ethan's body and neutralized. The murderous chill that had swallowed the clearing subsided as if it had all been a lie.
And what seeped in along the girl's frozen fingertips was—the warmth of another person, so tender and so gentle it brought tears, something she had never once felt in her entire life.
Sylvia's blue lips quivered. In place of pain, an indescribable shock and shudder shook her soul to its core.
"……Huh? Why…… why isn't it freezing……? Why is it so…… warm……?"
As the cold seeping in through his hand cooled the fever raging in his soul, Ethan felt quietly satisfied and made to gently release her hand. "No more ice games in other people's yards from now on. You'll catch a cold."
It was the very moment he carelessly tried to withdraw his hand.
Clutch!
Sylvia's slender fingers seized Ethan's hand again, hard enough to crush. She clung to him desperately, as if she could not let go, as if losing this warmth would stop her breath.
In the sapphire eyes of the ice princess who had been frozen her whole life, a great shudder and the flames of blind obsession toward the only warmth she had ever known began to blaze.