Fuck.
I’m screwed.
All because I ran my mouth for no reason.
Who the hell would have thought the magic circle itself was a trap?
I mean, a magic circle was basically a dedicated gateway that appeared before a spell was cast.
How was I supposed to know she could alter that however she pleased?
"Cadet Ian."
The headmaster’s low voice made me shudder without realizing it.
"Have you ever considered learning magic?"
It seemed the headmaster had not given up.
At her response, the blue flames of Professor Luke’s eyes began to blaze violently.
His teeth clacked together, as if he were about to say something in protest.
"Headmaster..."
"I hear you aspire to become a knight."
Yet the headmaster cut him off as though it were none of her concern.
But only the family head, Elder Alfredo, and my brother should know about that dream.
How did this woman know?
Whether she knew what I was thinking or not, the headmaster merely continued saying what she wanted to say with her usual blank expression.
"Magic is not a bad choice for one who seeks to become a knight."
...Was that true?
"There are no small number of knights who have learned magic, and even among the Frank Knights of the Karl Kingdom, there is a knight who has reached the realm of an archmage. Magic is not a poor option on the path of knighthood."
Hmm.
What she said was not wrong.
There really was a magic swordsman in the Frank Knights.
Magic, huh.
Magic was not bad.
Especially if I could learn it from the headmaster herself.
Honestly, this was a rather luxurious dilemma to have.
The headmaster was someone who could be called the pinnacle of all mages.
Every mage admired her and hoped to wield her magic.
It was not as though she taught no classes at Lumea Academy, but unlike Luke, who had produced countless disciples, she had not taken a single personal disciple in five hundred years. In that sense, her offer was a privilege that might never come again.
Even in the game, Iris and Isabella were the only ones who became her personal disciples.
In other words, this was another hidden piece.
If any other mage saw me right now, they would probably clutch the back of their neck and collapse.
Or curse at me, asking if I was insane.
What was more, I had [Insight Eye].
An absurdly overpowered trait that let me replicate the skills a target used after seeing them once.
If I formed a circle now and copied the headmaster’s magic...
I would only grow stronger here. There was no way I could become weaker.
But.
I had reservations about chasing both rabbits at once.
Kafka, unlike other spirits, was unaffected by the spirit power I possessed, so that was not an issue. But creating a circle was another matter.
Unlike spirit power, which I did not necessarily need to invest in, I would have to raise my mental strength and mage-exclusive stats as well.
Mana would not be a problem, since Orlando’s Muscle Cultivation Method raised the body along with it.
But if I was going to make my living with a sword, I needed to invest in aura too.
A magic swordsman might look good on paper, but if you got it wrong, you ended up being neither one thing nor the other.
There was a reason people called them jack-of-all-trades builds.
Take the wrong tech tree for no reason, and I could end up with a ruined build.
And I was not the protagonist.
I could not do everything like the protagonist could.
It was not as though I had an aptitude for everything like Dante and Iris did.
Besides, focusing on a single path would not necessarily let me catch up to genuine prodigies.
I was not a swordsmanship genius like Angelica.
Nor was I a magic genius like Isabella.
And I was not beloved by spirits like Dolnesia.
I was merely using the system to somehow keep pace with the power inflation.
If I could not even properly keep up on one path, would I really be able to grow strong if I greedily absorbed everything like some jack-of-all-trades build?
Of course, with [Insight Eye], I could become a magic swordsman if I really wanted to.
But if you asked whether that was truly the right answer, all I could do was shake my head.
Besides, the gifts thrown at me by those voyeuristic bastards were related more to knights than mages.
It would be better to leave the position of her personal disciple to Isabella.
"I truly appreciate the offer, but for now, I would like to devote myself solely to this path."
"Is that so..."
At my refusal, the headmaster merely nodded expressionlessly, while Professor Luke beside her opened his jawbone wide.
Was he trying to express a smile?
He did not laugh aloud, perhaps because of the atmosphere.
"Well, if you change your mind, anytime."
Having said that, the headmaster rose from her seat.
"Your body has not fully recovered yet, but it seems you have stayed in the infirmary too long."
"No, I’m fine. But..."
I looked at Kafka.
She stood there blankly in a perfectly fitted academy uniform.
Why was she wearing an academy uniform?
I pointed at Kafka and opened my mouth.
"Why is Kafka wearing an academy uniform...?"
"Miss Kafka will accompany you, Cadet Ian. She may once have been human, but she is now your contracted spirit."
I made a dumbfounded expression at her words.
Was that allowed?
Just like that?
As though my thoughts did not matter much, she continued in the same expressionless tone.
"She cannot return to the spirit realm because she does not possess a spirit body, but she is a spirit nevertheless. However, because she is not a student, she will receive none of the benefits available to students."
"Then what about the uniform?"
"We cannot leave her to live naked."
No benefits meant she would not be assigned a dormitory.
Then where was she supposed to stay?
"It’s all right, Ian."
Kafka slowly approached me as she spoke.
"I can go inside your shadow."
As if to demonstrate, Kafka placed one foot on my shadow.
Then, as though entering water, her body smoothly sank into and was absorbed by my shadow.
"That solves the housing problem as well."
The headmaster shrugged as if it were nothing.
Still, was it really all right for them to do this much?
"I do not have to pay her tuition?"
"She is not a student. There is no reason to collect tuition from her. Think of it as how we do not collect tuition from Sancho and Rocinante, the spirits of Cadet Dolnesia."
In other words, they were going to treat her not as a person, but as a spirit.
It left a bad taste in my mouth.
There were spiritists, and spirits were on friendly terms with humanity.
But when it came to priority, people would naturally come first.
They would let her remain at the academy, but draw the line by treating her as a familiar.
It would have been understandable for Kafka to feel offended by being treated as a familiar despite being human, yet she merely watched the headmaster and me quietly, as though she were used to it.
Well, this was probably the best the headmaster could do.
If Kafka were to remain at the academy as a student, it would directly violate the principles of equality Lumea Academy pursued.
Things might be different if the Logres family exerted its influence...
But even princes had to take the entrance examination to enroll. Just because the Logres family guaranteed her status did not mean there would be no backlash from the students.
Especially at Lumea Academy, where people of every conceivable status gathered.
This much could be considered the greatest flexibility the headmaster could exercise within her authority.
Calling it preferential treatment would not even be wrong.
I did not know why she was extending such privileges to me.
It was strange enough that she had suddenly revealed information about the Dawn Troupe to me.
I could not understand what the headmaster was thinking.
Whether she knew my thoughts or not, the headmaster simply said,
"I have expectations for you, Ian de Logres."
She quietly watched me with golden eyes as she said it.
#
"I am curious about the reason, Headmaster."
"What do you mean?"
After leaving the infirmary, Professor Luke asked the headmaster that question.
"Why did you grant Ian such preferential treatment?"
"Was it not your request that I look after him?"
"What I asked you to overlook were his demerits and disciplinary measures, not Miss Kafka.
Even if the headmaster exercised the greatest possible flexibility, treating Miss Kafka as a spirit and allowing her to remain at Ian’s side was close to a reckless move.
Even if she was a spirit, was her essence not undeniably human?
Yet you intend to force her to remain beside Ian by treating a human as a spirit and familiar?
Kafka herself did not mind, could transform into a wolf, and could enter Ian’s shadow, so it might be possible to pass her off as a spirit to some extent. But if things went wrong, it would be like handing others grounds to tear into you, Headmaster.
But.
The headmaster merely glanced sideways at Luke with her golden eyes, as if she did not care.
"When have I ever cared about that?"
As if she had simply done what needed doing without concern for anything else.
She merely continued walking while looking at Luke.
Professor Luke’s jawbone clacked at the sight.
Judging from the loud breath that slipped through his teeth, he was probably trying to convey that he was sighing.
"So."
Professor Silves interjected.
"What do you think of Ian?"
Hearing him, the headmaster merely stated her thoughts calmly.
"At the very least, he did not seem to be part of the Dawn Troupe."
As she answered in that expressionless manner—
"Is that not merely your wishful thinking, Headmaster?"
Luke’s sarcasm came from between his jawbones.
"Was that not what you desired most?"
At her devastating cross-counter, Professor Luke snapped his jawbone shut.
Maintaining her expressionless face as she watched the skeleton, the headmaster said,
"Well, it does not matter, since I did not come to see him because of the Dawn Troupe. I merely..."
She flicked her index finger once more.
"When one who had no color suddenly finds one, what color do they take on? I only wished to observe it from up close."
The headmaster murmured something incomprehensible.
At those words, both Luke and Silves beside him wore expressions that showed they did not understand.
But as though she had no interest in their reaction, the headmaster said,
"Still, I think it was good that I came to see you after all, Ian de Logres."
Murmuring those words, she turned her golden eyes toward the infirmary.
"It seems you do not remember me, however."
For a moment, she recalled the first time she had met him.
#
The wings of dragons that had once soared through the sky broke in vain.
The dragons’ songs, which had commanded all things, died out in vain.
The dragons’ authority, which had set the world ablaze, faded in vain.
An age in which dragons had become nothing more than tales from childish fairy stories.
I was born into such a world, and stood upon that land as the last dragon—and only half a dragon at that.
To inherit the blood of an absolute being that now remained only in stories.
To some, it might have seemed a blessing.
But to me, it was merely a curse.
It was not difficult to reach the summit.
That was the kind of blood I had inherited.
But blood could only raise me to the summit.
It did not teach me how to descend.
So I stood at the summit, doing nothing but staring blankly at the world.
The people who had climbed up with me descended, leaving me behind.
Those who had reached the same place as I had, who saw the same view as I did, all descended.
Everyone did.
But I...
I was not even permitted to go with them.
I was swayed by the persuasion of a man who wanted to found a nation and became the Red Duke.
Rather than waste time meaninglessly, I even built an academy for the sake of those who would come after.
But within that halted time,
I alone looked upon the summit, and I alone remained behind.
Two hundred years passed. Then five hundred years passed.
At some point, a skeleton reached the same summit as I had.
But I had lost all interest.
In teaching someone.
In learning from someone.
In a life where I no longer felt anything at all.
Feeling that emptiness of living a taxidermied existence with every part of my body,
I watched the empire change and attended countless graduation ceremonies, until a time came when nothing but thoughtless days passed by.
"I heard there’s a dragon here that’s been stewing for about five hundred years."
As I gazed at distant mountains from the summit,
another person climbed to the summit.
Marshall de Logres, the Duke of the North.
He was the one who stepped onto the summit where only the skeleton and I had stood.
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