The Ugly Duckling (1)
Knock, knock.
After the light knock sounded for a moment, the door swung open and a familiar face poked out.
"Oh, it's you?"
Franc gestured him in with his usual cheerful expression.
"Come in. Wait, come to think of it, this is the first time you've ever come looking for me."
"……"
On the bed of the immaculately tidy room sat a leather travel bag, flung wide open.
Franc was stacking neatly folded clothes inside it, layer by layer, and gave a small chuckle.
"Ah, this? I'm heading back to my family, you see."
"I heard. Turns out you're the young master of a far more impressive house than I expected."
"Haha, busted. It was actually kind of nice not having that hanging over me, what with the memory loss and all."
The young man scratched the back of his head sheepishly and nodded.
"Tower life has been fun, but it's about time I returned to where I belong."
"To learn the merchant guild trade?"
"As you know, I've got a good eye for things. I'll help with the guild business… and, well, get married while I'm at it."
"Married?"
Oscar echoed the word with a look of genuine interest.
"Is there someone?"
"…There is, apparently."
Franc murmured it with a bitter smile.
"They say she's a wonderful person. From a good family, too — apparently she'll be able to help us out in all sorts of ways."
"That's the longest, most flowery way I've ever heard anyone say 'arranged marriage.'"
Thump. Oscar dropped onto the sofa and asked,
"And you're fine with that?"
"She's pretty, kind, and from a great house — what's there to complain about?"
"I'm not talking about the marriage. I mean giving up magic."
"……"
The hands busily packing clothes froze mid-motion.
He stared blankly down at the bag, and only after a long while did he speak.
"Well, it'd be a lie to say I don't have regrets. But a person can't spend their whole life doing only what they want."
"Most people can't, sure. But with a family as powerful as yours, isn't that exactly the kind of thing you could do?"
"…That's exactly why I can't."
Franc gave a wry smile and shook his head.
"Ever since I was little, I grew up enjoying experiences and comforts most people couldn't even dream of. But I can't keep only taking, forever. At some point, I have to pay my keep."
"Ah. Merchant family thing, I take it. Thorough accounting even between family members."
"Honestly, I prefer it that way — it's cleaner. One-sided giving makes me uncomfortable too."
I think I get the gist of it, Oscar thought.
When someone shows you kindness for no reason, it always feels like a debt you'll eventually have to repay — needlessly uncomfortable, vaguely suffocating.
He'd assumed family would be a little different from that, but apparently not necessarily so.
"Still, does that debt have to be repaid through the guild? Succeed as a mage and pay it back that way instead."
"…I wanted to. Once."
Everyone has a plan that sounds plausible enough.
The only problem was the slim odds of it actually coming true.
"Honestly? I used to think I was a pretty special person. But once I actually got here… turns out I'm not."
A familiar story.
A child who believed himself extraordinary, awakened to reality. That was all it was.
Franc turned slightly and looked at him.
"It's sorry to say this to someone who loves this place as dearly as you do, but honestly, I came to the White Tower because it was the easiest option. I figured a place like this might at least let me be the head of the snake."
Fallen or not, it was still one of the Four Great Magic Towers in name.
If he could become the mage who represented the White Tower, he'd have plenty to say to his family.
"But even here, it was beyond me. Well — my talent was only ever that much, that's all."
"…Franc Sirius."
"What? Go ahead, insult me if you want."
His tone said he no longer cared either way.
Oscar gazed around the room — tidied to the point of betraying its owner's personality — then turned his head.
"You have talent."
"Thanks. Getting complimented by a genius just as I'm leaving — what an honor."
"I'm being serious, so listen carefully."
Oscar studied him with a gravity he'd rarely shown before, and said,
"Want to try? Being the head of the snake."
"…Have you been listening to a single word I've said? Even if I wanted to, I don't have the ability."
"And that's exactly the part I can help with—"
Knock, knock.
The conversation broke off at the sound. Both their heads turned.
The door opened without the room's owner granting permission, and someone strode inside.
It was a man with a hollowed cheek that lent him a cold, sharp impression.
"A shabby little room, isn't it."
The man surveyed the room once with dry eyes, then walked over to Franc with his hands clasped behind his back.
"I'm already drowning in work, and here I am going through all this trouble because of you. I can't fathom it."
"…Brother."
A voice like something crawling crept out of Franc, whose shoulders had hunched up to his ears.
Anyone could see he was intimidated by the man, but the latter seemed well used to it — he didn't spare it so much as a glance.
"If you're done packing, come downstairs. I'll be waiting below."
Just as the man, having said his piece, whipped around to leave the room—
"How much is he worth?"
Freeze.
At the voice from behind, Franc's brother slowly turned around.
He stared at the young man seated on the sofa.
"…And who might you be?"
"Oscar Crucian. A friend of his."
"Ah — the mage who made the curative, was it."
The man gave a nod and introduced himself formally.
"My name is Grand Sirius. Eldest son of the family, Vice Guild Master of the Sirius Merchant Guild… and elder brother to that worthless creature."
Then Grand's eyes narrowed.
"And what, precisely, did you just say?"
"I asked how much Franc's remaining contract would cost. The White Tower still needs him."
"How audacious. Under imperial law, human trafficking carries an unconditional death sentence."
Grand delivered the unfunny joke without a flicker of expression, then continued.
"Besides, I have no intention of selling him. Born into the Sirius family, obedience to the family's discipline comes first."
His gaze shifted to Franc.
"Above all, it would be an embarrassment to put a fool outside our walls — a man who can't even state his own opinion."
"…You're right, Brother."
Franc, head bowed low, spoke as he closed the leather bag.
"Oscar, I appreciate you standing up for me, but that's enough."
"Forgive me if I gave the wrong impression — I only move for the White Tower and for myself."
With those words, he passed right by Franc and stepped up to Grand.
"If you're a merchant, then I have a deal you might find tempting."
"A deal?"
Grand gave an arrogant tilt of his chin.
"Speak, then."
"Let me make this man the signature mage of the White Tower within two years. In the long run, that will profit the Sirius family far more than teaching him the family trade."
"The signature mage of one of the Four Great Magic Towers, in two years?"
The man repeated it back with a look of considerable interest.
"Then what's the price if you fail?"
"I'll pay you the thing merchants love most."
Oscar shaped a coin with his fingers.
"If I fail to keep my word, I will hand over every last coin of profit from the sale of Cadena Flu cures and vaccines for the next fifty years — to the Sirius Merchant Guild."
"Hey — hey! Are you insane?!"
Franc shot to his feet in alarm.
True, Oscar was the one who had restored the cure — but this went far beyond anything he had the authority to decide.
Grand, too, picked up on exactly that.
"Do you even have the authority to commit to something of that scale?"
"If necessary, we can have the Vice Tower Master stand as notary."
"……"
Grand stroked his chin in thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Hm. The reward-to-risk ratio is so good I almost suspect a swindle. But first, one question."
"Ask away."
"Is it that he's genuinely worth going this far for — or is this just a game of friendship?"
Worth it, is it.
Oscar answered with the gravest face he could muster.
"…You may find it laughable, but I intend to restore the White Tower to its golden age within five years at the latest. The Cadena Flu remedies were nothing more than the opening shot announcing that campaign."
"Hmm."
Having confirmed the flicker of interest on Grand's face, Oscar turned to look at Franc.
"You asked whether this man is worth it, didn't you?"
Needless to say.
He had glimpsed boundless potential in this gawky, green young mage.
"He is. Franc Sirius is one of the essential talents for the new White Tower I'm building in my mind."
"……"
Franc held his breath.
Thanks to his born background, he had met an enormous variety of people from an early age.
The overwhelming majority had been two-faced, self-serving men who approached him only to take something from him.
This was the first time.
The first time anyone had ever said they needed Franc Sirius the mage — not the youngest son of the Sirius Merchant Guild.
"…You're young, aren't you."
Grand gave a faint smile and continued.
"But a merchant has no reason to overlook an opponent's mistake. So I'll attach a single condition."
"A condition?"
He had already played every card in his hand.
He'd assumed no merchant could possibly refuse.
"…I believe the offer itself is already more than sufficient."
"I think so too — but there's one thing you've overlooked."
Grand extended his index finger.
"The finer the merchant, the more he values his client's trust over money. Money can be earned again anytime. Trust cannot."
"If it's trust you mean—"
"I do not trade with just anyone. That matter extends to the dignity of every client currently doing business with me. So prove, by your own hand, that you possess the caliber to deal with the Vice Guild Master of the Sirius Merchant Guild."
"And how, exactly, am I meant to prove that?"
"I brought a single Level 5 knight along as my escort. Defeat him in a duel at noon tomorrow, prove your ability, and I'll accept the deal."
"…You're saying that knowing full well I'm a Level 2 mage?"
"Oh, was that so? Then I'll add the condition that he doesn't use sword aura."
"…"
Oscar bit down hard on his lip.
Even for him, facing a Level 5 knight at his current level was absolutely impossible.
That held true even if the man refrained from using sword aura.
This guy is circling around it, but what he's really saying is that he won't hand Franc over no matter what.
There was presumably one reason he'd go so far as to refuse an astronomical sum just to take his brother home.
Which meant the arranged marriage's family must be something truly monstrous.
"Then I shall see you tomorrow."
The moment Grand left the room, Franc spoke as if he'd been waiting for the door to close.
"Oscar. Go back to him right now and tell him to pretend this never happened. I'll come with you."
"……"
"Why aren't you saying anything? He's only doing this because he's ticked off at you — he wants to knock you flat."
"Would you be quiet for a moment? I'm thinking."
Brushing the protest aside, Oscar abruptly began circling Franc, turning him round and round as he scrutinized him from every angle.
After a moment of that, he seemed to reach a conclusion of his own and gave a deliberate nod.
"Hmm. This could actually work."
"What?! Are you mad?! Genius or not, impossible is impossible! How in the world does a mere Level 2 plan to fight a Level 5 knight? Not to mention your body hasn't even fully recovered from what happened at the herb fields!"
"Oh, I'd lose if we fought. If we fought a hundred times, I might win once — maybe."
He had countless battles of experience behind him, but even that tended to mean nothing before overwhelming power.
"But a Level 4 mage? That much, I could manage."
"…You're not about to say something deranged like becoming a Level 4 mage overnight, are you?"
"Absolutely not. Even I couldn't pull off something that absurd. Instead—"
Oscar's enigmatic gaze fixed itself on Franc.
"Taking a mage plateaued at the tail end of Level 3 and pushing him over the line into Level 4 — that much is possible."
"…Wait. Don't tell me—"
"Franc Sirius."
Grand had never said you had to fight the knight and win yourself.
He'd said: prove your ability in a duel. All that remained was to show it.
Gotcha! Oscar seized both of Franc's shoulders and flashed a grin.
"You — you're going to become a Level 4 mage by tonight."
And then go fight in my place.