Chapter 8 : Chapter 8
Chapter 8.
“Let’s see. What I need right now is a decent magic teacher for Nine, and a proper sword for myself.”
My room was not exactly a palace, but it was usable enough.
Even so, I did not feel any real sense of deprivation or anything of the sort.
Which made sense, really, because I was a stone that had rolled in from elsewhere.
“A magic teacher.... Where am I supposed to find a decent magic teacher, and how?”
If it were swordsmanship, I could teach it myself, but magic? Who was I supposed to ask?
I ran through one person after another in my mind, but no suitable candidate came to mind.
Then, one face surfaced.
“...Right. Come to think of it, I already had a very useful connection, didn’t I?”
***
“...We have barely known each other any time at all, and yet you are already asking to meet again?”
“I need something. Something only the Grand Duchess can do.”
“What are you trying to ask of me this time? Ours is a relationship built on a transaction. We are not particularly close, are we?”
Grand Duchess Mari let out a sigh and pressed a hand to her head, as though a headache were coming on.
“It is not a request. It is a proposal. Nothing bad really happens when you get involved with me, does it?”
“Whatever it is, was our deal not already concluded when I helped you pass that test?”
“And yet, deep down, are you not thinking it yourself? That what I did for you was worth far more than merely asking you to let me pass some trivial test.”
Unable to deny it, Mari frowned.
“You really never let a single remark slide, do you? ...Very well. Let me hear this proposal of yours.”
“You are from Count House Isentic, are you not? The prestigious family that produced several Magic Tower Masters, a house second to none when it comes to magical talent.”
“Well, if you can still call it prestigious after producing a defective product like me. So?”
“I was thinking—what if you were to submit that vampire-style mana operation method I told you about last time to the current Magic Tower?”
It was a method that had briefly shone and then been abandoned, but it was not a bad way to attract attention.
“Why don't you submit it yourself? It is not even knowledge I originally knew.”
“Because I do not think they would listen if someone as young as me, and with a background like mine, were the one to submit it. It is the Empire’s foremost magical institution, after all.”
“I am defective too, you know.”
Mari grumbled sullenly.
“But you still have the name Isentic. And if Your Grace were to personally demonstrate yourself using mana, they would think differently.”
“...I thought you were just a scoundrel, but you are not entirely without brains. Still, if it means using the name Isentic, then I would rather not. I no longer wish to bear that family’s name.”
“That is why it would be a form of revenge. Revenge against Isentic. If the daughter they married off to Nordiar because she could not use magic returned as a magician, what do you think public opinion would make of that?”
“I understand what you mean. Then what is it that you want?”
“Please attach a magic teacher to Nine. Preferably an outstanding one who is good at teaching. I have next to no connections in that field.”
“...I thought you were going to attach some bizarre condition to this, but it is a much more sensible proposal than I expected.”
“People may call me a scoundrel, but I am not some boor without any sense of propriety.”
“Well, it is not a bad proposal for me. Fine.”
***
Count Isentic.
One of the top three strongest candidates to become the next Magic Tower Master.
For a man like him, the short tea time he enjoyed in the afternoon was a special ritual, one that recharged the vigor of his day.
And as though someone meant to interrupt that tea time, a man burst into the room.
“Count Isentic! No, Father!”
Ordinarily, Count Isentic would have reprimanded anyone who dared disturb his tea, but the son before him was not the sort to disregard decorum without cause, so surprise came before anger.
“What is it? I know well enough that for you to behave like this, it must be no small matter.”
Perhaps he had run all the way there, because the man drew one deep breath before delivering the news to his father.
“Mari Isentic—or rather, Nordiar—has submitted something to the Magic Tower. Have you seen it?”
“...Mari? That defective girl who could not use mana?”
“Yes, and the contents are no ordinary matter.”
“How so?”
“It seems... that girl has found a way to use magic.”
“...What? A condition that even the Empire’s greatest minds could not cure? How did she fix it?”
“That is difficult to explain in words. I think you should see it for yourself. Here is a copy....”
The man handed a stack of documents to the Count.
Count Isentic practically snatched the papers from his son’s hand and hurriedly grabbed the spectacles resting on the table.
They were crumpled here and there from the run, but still legible enough.
“...The tradition of vampires? Vitality?”
“Is it not strange? Mari and vampires have absolutely nothing to do with each other, and yet she suddenly sends in a manuscript like this!”
“......”
Count Isentic lowered his head and closed his eyes.
It was a familiar habit of his whenever he sank into deep thought.
“There is definitely something strange here. Mari has a body incapable of using mana. And yet she could conduct research this detailed? And suddenly she can use vitality?”
The core of the submission was that even if one’s channels were twisted, one could still cast magic using vitality, but even that was not something that could be written in such detail without at least some fundamental understanding of mana.
“An accomplice? Or... is there some hidden power behind her?”
“The Magic Tower is in an uproar because of Mari’s submission. She has gone from being the tragic heroine of a famed magical family who could not use mana, to someone who rose through her own ability. Thanks to that, only our Count House Isentic has ended up cast as the villain. This could even affect the next selection for Magic Tower Master....”
Magic Tower Master.
The highest position a magician could attain, with influence great enough to rival the Commander of the Imperial Court Magicians.
“...That seat must not be taken by Marquis House Marlesto. That must never happen. It is Isentic that stands above all.”
“But then what do we do now?”
“Tch! That cast-off girl.... She is making this troublesome. Did Mari say anything in particular?”
“From what I have heard, she is looking for a magic teacher.”
“...A magic teacher.”
“Why would she be looking for a teacher in handling ordinary mana? Mari should only be able to use the vampire-style method.”
As far as that line of thought went, Count Isentic pressed a hand lightly to his temple and looked at the son standing before him.
Then he issued an order.
“You go.”
“...Pardon? Me? As the magic teacher?”
“The justification is already there, is it not? You are her brother, one way or another, and you are a 6-Class magician. You are not the sort of man who would fail to do his share wherever he goes. And while you are at it, investigate the people around Mari as well. Anyone she has been spending time with, or at the very least any newly arrived servant. Investigate them all.”
“A spy, then.”
“Yes. I do not know who it is, but whoever dared meddle with Isentic will pay dearly for it.”
***
The reception room.
“It has been a while, Mari.”
“...Brother.”
Mari, the Grand Duchess, already wearing a face as though she had bitten into something sour, furrowed her brow even further at her brother’s greeting.
“I knew they were not on good terms..., but to react this strongly in front of the Grand Duke himself.”
I muttered inwardly.
“What brings you here?”
“When you said you needed a magic teacher. It seemed you needed someone fairly skilled, so I thought I would be the perfect fit.”
“Please make yourself comfortable, Brother-in-law.”
“My thanks for such generous hospitality, Grand Duke Nordiar.”
Grand Duke Atlin, pretending not to notice Mari’s expression at all, welcomed the man he called brother-in-law.
Catching the moment, I offered Mari’s brother a greeting.
“I am Kairun Nordiar, the youngest son as of recently.”
“Oh! Yes, so you are Kairun? I have heard quite a bit about you. I am your uncle. More precisely, I suppose I should say your half-uncle, but just call me by my name. The other children all do the same.”
Nawellon Isentic took my hand and shook it so vigorously it felt as though my arm might come off, then, after letting go, wiped the hand he had used on a handkerchief as he spoke.
“Nawellon Isentic.”
He was one of those typical nobles—steeped in the status of a Count, swollen with a sense of superiority.
The only notable things about him were that he was Mari’s older brother, and that he was a reasonably capable magician.
“Well, as Nine’s teacher for the time being, he is not too bad. He is still an Isentic, after all.”
“Yes, Uncle Nawellon. Now that introductions are done, I will take my leave.”
“...Hm?”
Perhaps he had never imagined that a mere insignificant bastard, a commoner who had won the lottery of restoration, would dare treat him so curtly.
He let out a vacant little noise and stared blankly at my retreating back.
“No, wait. Had I told him my name? Did Mari tell him?”
***
After that, Nawellon’s day began.
His first meeting with Nine.
“So you are Nine? A pleasure. I am Nawellon Isentic.”
“Wow! If you are an Isentic, then that means you come from an incredible family of magicians!”
Though he smiled on the surface, Nawellon did not look kindly on Nine, who had once been nothing more than a street orphan.
The forced smile made his face hurt.
The reason, naturally, was status.
“What a low creature. Ah, what a miserable fate.”
But during Nine’s first lesson, Nawellon had no choice but to be thoroughly shaken.
“We shall begin with how to handle mana. Magic circles can simply be memorized, but unless you handle mana well, your casting time will never improve. Of course, recent magic circles have been optimized quite well, but there is a world of difference between not doing something because you do not know how, and choosing not to do it even though you do know.”
“Yes!”
“Good. Then I will teach you the magic circle and formula for the 1-Class spell ‘Light.’ Gather mana in your hand and...”
“Well, he will not understand any of this anyway. I can just get through it carelessly. Magic is ninety percent talent, brat. There is no way you—”
“Like this, right?”
He had followed Nawellon’s words exactly and reproduced the very same Light spell Nawellon had just cast.
“Hm? ...How many seconds did that take?”
“Uh.... I think it was about the same as yours, Teacher?”
“You—how long did you say you had been learning magic?”
“Learning? This is my first time.”
“That is impossible! I am a 6-Class magician, so how can a little 1-Class brat produce the same output I can?!”
Nawellon hurriedly began counting the possible explanations.
“You used the formula exactly as I taught it, correct?”
“Of course. That is the only thing you told me.”
“Talent? No. There is no magical house superior to Isentic. At most, perhaps Marlesto!”
But before long, Nawellon had no choice but to admit it.
That the being called Nine before his eyes was a genius far beyond the scope of his common sense.
That his innate sensitivity to mana was several times greater than that of ordinary people.
Talent?
“Can that word even contain all of this? What exactly... is this child? For now, I need to inform Father.”
“...We will end the lesson here for today. I will teach you more next time.”
***
“How exactly am I supposed to explain the vampire information to Father? It is not as though I have absolutely nothing to write.”
A complete failure.
That was how Nawellon’s first day could be summed up.
“There are no servants who have changed, and the only new arrivals are that ill-mannered brat and the child called Nine. Just where did Mari even obtain that information from...?”
Scratching his head roughly, Nawellon tried to send a letter through the window to his father, Count Isentic, reporting that the day had yielded nothing.
Or rather, he had been about to.
That was before he saw the bastard child stride into the room without even knocking.
“Uncle Nawellon.”
“Wh-what?! You came in without knocking—!”
He had clearly given orders to the servants that no one was to disturb him at this hour, yet it was utterly unclear how this bastard had slipped past all those eyes and reached the door of his room.
But one thing was certain.
“I cannot let him discover this letter now!”
Hurriedly hiding the letter behind his back, he put on a calm expression and scolded the brat.
“You insolent boy! Even in Nordiar, there are lines that must not be crossed! Where are your manners—”
“I grew up sleeping on the streets. More importantly, it looks like you are hiding something.”
“I am not hiding anything!”
“Come on, at least make your lies believable. The servants are guarding every route into this room and telling people not to come in.”
“...How did you get in?”
“I used a little strength. Took a route those mere servants would never know about. But more importantly, the fact that you are trying to change the subject means....”
Coming closer to Nawellon, Kairun cast his eyes over the desk with a sly expression.
“It really does look like you are hiding something.... And I happen to be the sort who cannot stand not knowing.”
“I will tell you later!”
“Now that you put it that way.... Ah, dear. And you cannot exactly pull back now, can you?”
Then Kairun moved in a strangely fluid manner, stepping with an odd footwork, And before anyone knew it, he had proudly plucked the letter Nawellon had hidden behind his back and was now holding it up with a raised brow.
“Oh? A letter addressed to Count Isentic?”
As though mocking Nawellon, who threw himself at him in an attempt to stop him from reading it, Kairun slipped away with that same easy, slippery footwork.
“Let’s see~. ‘Today as well, I was unable to find any clues related to the vampires.... Nine this and that....’ Uncle Nawellon, I did not take you for this sort of man. How underhanded. Very underhanded. Ah! So you were curious about the manuscript Grand Duchess Mari submitted, were you?!”
At some point, a magic circle had formed in Nawellon’s hand, and he pointed it straight at Kairun.
“...If you hand over that letter right now—”
“Oh? You are going to kill me? Would that really be less damaging than letting this come to light? The numbers do not work in your favor.”
Kairun waved the paper right in front of Nawellon’s eyes.