Free Web Novel"Boy, you’re going to start learning magic."
After the modifications were completed, Teacher Meladomir changed out of that soulless white coat over bare legs, and spoke to Muen, who was lying on the icy operating table as motionless as a salted fish—an ideal zombie.
"Magic...?"
After a long time, Muen finally lifted his head in a daze, his face numb like someone who had already given up on treatment.
But gradually, as if some switch had been flipped, light rekindled in his eyes.
"Magic?"
Muen jolted upright, then immediately rolled on the floor in pain. Even so, he raised his head and looked excitedly at Teacher Meladomir.
"I can learn magic now?"
He hadn’t forgotten—his original purpose in coming to this Academy and studying desperately was to learn powerful magic!
Although the goal of partitioning the Withering King’s power was gone now, tell me, what kind of tough guy could possibly refuse powerful and gorgeous magic?
What is art?
Art is explosion!
And only magic can bring the ultimate explosion!
"Mm... strictly speaking, what you’re going to learn is precise control of mana."
Teacher Meladomir said:
"I told you before, a basic understanding of magic is necessary. Because when the Alchemy Cores are not just one, the input and output paths of mana become many times more complex. Add in those intricate magic lines, and if your mana control isn’t precise, you’ll easily lose control—after just a few moves it’ll all come s p i l l i n g o u t."
"Why do I feel like you’re implying something again?"
The corner of Muen’s mouth twitched, but immediately his expression tensed; he asked seriously:
"Then what about the powerful, badass, flashy magic I want to learn?"
"...Well, about that... I’ve heard your Campbell family’s situation from that kid Prang. I didn’t believe it before, so about your talent, I also took the liberty of feeling it..."
Teacher Meladomir’s gaze drifted as she said:
"You can learn it, but..."
"But?"
"But... I suggest you treat learning powerful magic as a hobby."
"A hobby?"
Muen froze.
Froze again.
Froze yet again?
What does ‘hobby’ mean?
It means... don’t pursue the result too much?
In other words...
"Are the Campbell family genes really that terrifying—so much that even you, Teacher Meladomir, can’t do anything?"
Realizing it, Muen covered his face, tears streaming down.
"That’s not quite it. If I wanted to, making you a Truth-grade Great Magus casually is still possible. But..."
Staring into Muen’s eyes, Teacher Meladomir said seriously:
"Are you truly willing to give up everything you’ve been working for and devote yourself single-mindedly to the path of magic?"
"..."
Muen was stunned.
Was he willing?
Of course he wasn’t.
After all, he had already come so far down this road. How could he casually change lanes and drive toward the unknown?
As for magic, he merely yearned for it, that’s all.
"Although I admit that ‘my fate is mine, not the heavens’—that slogan some people keep on their lips—does exist, blindly defying certain predestined things, in my view, is foolish. Very foolish."
"People who like to say that usually already have broader roads and more choices than ordinary folks, so they look down on the retreat and compromise of the common."
Teacher Meladomir patted Muen’s shoulder to comfort him:
"But don’t be too upset. What the Campbell family’s ‘no-magic’ genes trade for is an especially outstanding talent in the flesh. Otherwise, after all my rav... after all my training for this long, you’d have folded already."
"...Fine, fine."
Muen gave a bitter smile and quickly accepted reality.
In truth, he had nothing to be dissatisfied about. By now he was no longer like before—unable to find a concrete goal and, just to stay alive, crashing around like a headless fly.
Since he had stepped onto this path, then he could only give it everything and walk it to the end.
For that, he had always been grateful to Teacher Meladomir.
"Also, don’t underestimate basic mana control. For you, this too is something that will take a great deal of time and effort to learn," Teacher Meladomir added.
"Then..."
Muen looked over with hope...
"Don’t look at me."
Teacher Meladomir refused mercilessly:
"This kind of most basic thing that’ll be taught in class—go learn it yourself. I don’t have that much free time to personally teach you everything."
"Oh."
Muen answered, then obediently lay back into the sea of flowers.
A breeze from who-knows-where blew by, pleasant floral fragrance pouring into his mind.
Today the sea of flowers seemed to be blooming a different bloom again—uniquely delightful.
Muen stared blankly at that false blue firmament, lost in thought.
Magic or not is actually a small matter. Right now, the most important thing is...
"The ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) Holy City..."
In the end, he still couldn’t help being drawn into the whirlpool of fate.
Leaving the Academy, leaving Belrand, leaving Teacher Meladomir’s protection—heading to the Holy City where even his status as a Duke’s son would have no effect at all.
This was a road that should never have appeared in his plans, a direction that absolutely ran counter to the future he desired.
But...
When he truly confirmed he would step into it...
He actually wasn’t as flustered as he’d imagined.
"I’ve long since gotten used to it."
Muen felt a touch of emotion. He lifted a hand, grasped at the void, then clenched hard.
"Then as usual, before the tide of fate arrives, make more preparations."
...
The swells were still approaching, yet Muen’s life once again calmed down.
Only, once he threw himself wholly into preparations and study, the leisure he dreamed of drifted far away.
Mana control methods.
Engraving of the Alchemy Matrices.
Study of techniques.
Getting stronger.
And the journey to come.
Unknowingly, numerous pressures once again settled on his shoulders.
Only...
Just as he had said before.
He had long gotten used to these things.
He just needed to keep advancing at his previous pace.
So Muen got busy again.
It felt like he had returned to that time when, for Teacher Meladomir’s task, he sprinted for excellent grades.
Like a machine, he rotated nonstop between the Black Book, the classroom, the cafeteria, the sea of flowers, and the dorm. freewebnøvel.com
There was no upperclassman this time.
Only, amid all the busyness, he found a different kind of distraction:
Liya’s musical performances.
This was one of the few moments in his day when he could relax.
...
"Huh? How did you fall asleep?"
In a haze, Liya seemed to hear Muen’s voice.
Then she felt something pinch her cheek.
Liya jolted awake, and seeing Muen frozen there with his finger still outstretched, her face flushed red in an instant:
"Y-you... you pervert, what are you doing?"
"Ah, sorry. You looked too cute, so I accidentally..."
"What do you mean ‘too cute,’ you jerk—finally showing your true colors?"
Watching Liya slip behind a tree with practiced ease, peeking out only half her head to glare at him warily, Muen wished he could slap himself.
This habit of his—pinching cute things when he saw them—could he please fix it.
One day he’d die from hand-itch.
"So, Liya, just now you were..."
Muen shifted the topic, letting his gaze fall to where Liya had been lying:
"Reading? So diligent—at a time like this..."
"N-none of your business!"
Liya snapped back as if teleporting, stuffing those books into her storage space in a fluster of shy anger.
"Alright, alright."
Seeing that faint weariness in Liya’s eyes, Muen said nothing else and raised his hands in surrender:
"Then shall we have today’s performance, Miss Liya?"
"Hmph."
With a cute little huff, Liya lifted her violin.
Beautiful music flowed, melting the snow on the treetops.
Muen lay back on the bench and listened quietly.
Since that accidental incident last time, the two had changed the way they met—exchanging sound-transmission stone frequencies and agreeing on time and place through them.
The time wasn’t fixed, but the place was usually this grove of plane trees.
Because there were few people—secluded.
Especially with finals approaching and the Academy’s announcement about selecting people to go to the Holy City, almost all students had curbed their playful moods and started working hard.
And a certain ‘Feng Aotian’ finally had the money to buy chicken legs and no longer needed to sneak down back alleys for a few sticks of black bread.
The already out-of-the-way path saw even fewer feet.
It was as if this place had become the two of their secret base.
As the performances piled up, Muen could feel that Liya was no longer as wary of him as before.
Though she would still sometimes put on that startled act just now, Muen could sense that, to a large extent, it was mostly joking by now.
And within the music, it was no longer as programmatic as before—she was gradually pouring in some feeling as she played.
Ever more moving and lovely.
Only, in each recent performance, from Liya’s expressions and eyes, Muen could also see some familiar thing.
That was the gaze of someone straining every nerve for something.
He could also see the girl’s fatigue.
But Muen did not stop the performances.
Because he discovered that only when she played could the girl loosen that taut string a little.
Unknowingly, this brief music also became one of the few times the girl—whose purpose wasn’t originally this—could relax.
The Holy Light unconsciously diffusing from the music could not only brush away Muen’s weariness, but also soothe the girl’s heart a little.
As if, without realizing it, this act of performing was no longer only for money.
Muen didn’t break this tacit understanding.
Agree on a place.
Perform.
Listen.
Pay.
A simple employer and performer.
Liya played in earnest.
He listened in silence.
That was all.
"Not bad at all."
Watching Liya play like an elf, Muen smiled faintly.
Then time passed.
A month later, Saint Maria Academy.
After nearly a month of swirling snow, Belrand finally welcomed a rare fine day. The gentle winter sun shone on the world clad in silver and white, making everything seem gem-studded, glittering, as if this long winter would pass just like that.
Perhaps due to some factor, this year’s winter had come faster and fiercer than ever. A full month of snow had dyed the city nearly pure white—extremely rare in the Empire’s history.
Although, with certain external forces maintaining things, the continuous snow hadn’t brought any major impact to this prosperous city, weather like this naturally made all who bathed in the grace of sunlight feel cheerful.
Even the Academy seemed infected by this joy; laughter and play echoed everywhere among the students.
Of course, the reasons for the students’ joy weren’t only the sunny day. Calculating by date, they had less than a week left before the much-loved long vacation.
As for those annoying exams—they ended three days ago. Those who did well greeted the holiday with even greater delight; those who didn’t had already chosen to smash the pot and let it crack.
Only, today still felt a bit special.
"Quick, quick, quick! Liya, are you ready!"
In the morning, Ariel, for once, didn’t have Liya wake her up; instead, she rushed into Liya’s room, all aflutter.
"Little lazy pig, time’s almost up!"
"Who are you calling little lazy pig!"
Already washed and dressed, Liya puffed her cheeks and gave Ariel a cute glare:
"I always get up earlier than you!"
"Hehe, I just didn’t want you, little mare, to stumble at the critical moment."
Ariel scratched her head and grinned.
"You’re the little mare!"
Liya pinched Ariel’s waist in a huff.
But she didn’t use any force—she’d only just tidied her uniform; not suitable for horsing around.
The two shared a smile.
"Nervous?"
"A little."
"Hmph, I’m not nervous at all."
Hands on her hips, Ariel’s eyes blazed with confidence.
Today was special.
Because today the Academy would announce the candidates who would go to the Holy City to attend the Saint Muen Ceremony.
According to the Academy’s statement a month ago, they would decide based on students’ ongoing performance, grades, and comprehensive strength.
The slots were few; the competition, fierce.
Even among Saint Maria’s students, many were devotees of the Goddess Emille, so being able to personally make a trip to the Holy City was a tremendous honor.
Not to mention, this was a solemn ceremony to decide the future Saintess.
If one could establish a connection with the future Saintess...
Thus, once the matter was announced, many students began to rub their fists and wipe their palms.
Unfortunately, the Academy limited it to students under twenty from the outset, making many upper-classmen beat their chests and stamp their feet. Otherwise the competition would have been even more terrifying.
But even so, from among the several hundred eligible students, only seven would be chosen. With such a dreadful elimination rate—if any one area of your record wasn’t top of the Academy—don’t even think about it.
Even with such harsh requirements, Ariel was very confident.
Because all her effort for so long had been for this moment.
Both for herself—and for the girl beside her who had always helped quietly.
Except...
"Liya, you’ll be alright, right?"
Ariel looked at Liya with concern.
Even if Liya was one of the protagonists of this ceremony—one of the Church’s reserve Saintess candidates—she still needed to meet the Academy’s standards to go with the Academy to that ceremony.
This was probably also why the Church forbade a Saintess to reveal her identity during the worldly trials. If she didn’t even have the qualifications to attend on her own ability, how could she become the future Saintess leading countless believers?
"No problem."
Liya nodded hard, pressing all unease to the bottom of her heart to reassure Ariel.
"I can do it."
Although she had always kept an extremely low profile, her grades had always been excellent.
And she had worked even harder during this period.
So, there was nothing to worry about.
Mm, I can do it.
"That’s good."
Seeing Liya finally show some confidence, Ariel reached out to her:
"Let’s go."
...
...
The auditorium.
When the two entered the main doors, they found it already abuzz.
A large number of students had long found seats, chatting in little groups over who would get the slots.
Even though the announcement concerned only the lower grades, many upper-classmen had still come to watch the excitement.
"Damn, we’re late."
Dragging Liya through the noise, Ariel searched for seats.
After much effort, they finally found a few adjacent empties in a corner.
Once they sat, both let out a long breath and waited quietly.
Only, before the list was announced, Ariel saw a familiar figure pass in front of her, hesitate, then, stepping past her, sit down unceremoniously in the open seat beside Liya.
An annoying aura hit her face.
"Muen Campbell?"
Ariel’s eyes went wide:
"Why are you sitting over here?"
"Well, I didn’t have a choice..."
Muen spread his hands at Ariel, helpless. "As you can see, I’m late too and haven’t found a free seat yet."
"Then couldn’t you look longer? I think you did it on purpose!"
Ariel hugged Liya tight, speaking warily:
"Say it—you’ve set your sights on Liya, haven’t you!"
"..."
Faced with this déjà-vu scene, the corner of Muen’s mouth twitched.
How was it that three volumes later, this girl still had such strange ideas.
He hadn’t made a move this entire month—would he act now right in front of you?
Did he look like a guy with the guts to pry the ‘Feng Aotian’ protagonist’s corner?
"If you don’t want me sitting with Liya, you can swap seats with her."
Muen patted the armrest and smiled:
"I don’t mind sitting with you."
"You—"
Ariel’s eyes grew even rounder.
Sit with this detestable guy—she...
"Alright."
In Ariel’s arms, Liya secretly pinched her waist.
"With so many people, what could Muen—Muen Campbell do to me? You’re overthinking it, Ariel."
"Hmph. My intuition tells me, with this guy, you can’t relax."
Ariel grumbled, then released Liya.
She shot Muen a fierce glare and turned her head to the front of the hall.
It was starting.
Liya also straightened, sitting upright and looking dead ahead without so much as a glance at Muen.
Onstage, the ridiculous Pink Bear acting Dean spoke first, spouting a pile of nonsense—announcing he would step down from acting Dean and lamenting how unfortunate it was he couldn’t wait until summer to see all the girls take swimming class, blah blah...
In the end he was drop-kicked offstage by the exasperated Professor Prang.
Then they got to the point.
"Regarding the candidates who will represent the Academy in going to the Holy City..."
Everyone tensed up.
Ariel held her breath.
"Third Year, Fanny Sawyer."
Somewhere in the hall, girls’ cheers rang out.
That was the first.
"Third Year, Vicky Mors."
The cheers were just as loud.
That was the second.
"Third Year, Marshall Eddy."
That was the third.
"Third Year, Aaron Mack."
Gulp.
That was the fourth!
The first four were all Third Year.
But that was only natural. Even with the age restriction, the Third Years closest to the line had the biggest advantage.
After all, a year was enough to widen the gap greatly.
It was even quite possible for the entire list to be Third Year!
"Second Year, Ariel Bugaard."
The fifth...
"I’m in!"
Even though she had expected it, hearing her own name still made Ariel leap up in excitement and hug Liya tight.
"Liya, I’m in!"
"Mm."
Liya gripped her hand hard, smiling with delight. "Congratulations, Ariel."
"I..."
Ariel was about to say something, then froze.
Because on Liya’s smiling face, she noticed unease.
She snapped awake.
Right.
She had made it, but there were only two slots left!
There were still so many excellent students in all of Second Year! Liya...
"D-don’t worry, Liya. Even if you really don’t make it, I’ll think of another way to take you to the Holy City. I swear!"
Ariel comforted her earnestly. After speaking, she turned back again, hands clenched, staring tensely at the stage.
"Mm."
Liya gave a tiny hum.
Right.
Nothing to worry about.
Even if useless me fails—as long as Ariel is there, I can...
"There’s indeed nothing to worry about, Miss Liya."
Suddenly, Liya heard a familiar voice by her ear.
"Believe in yourself. You absolutely can."
"You..."
Startled, Liya snuck a glance at Ariel, who was watching the front intently, then bit her lip and turned to Muen, who was speaking in a lowered voice, and whispered back:
"W-why? Why are you so sure?"
"Because of intuition," Muen smiled.
"Intuition... how unreliable..."
"And also... because you work very hard."
A plain but resolute voice entered her mind.
Liya paused, looking at the man beside her who showed not the least sign of nerves.
His azure eyes were limpid, as if without a shred of falsehood.
"Tch."
Liya came back to herself, cheeks slightly red, and gave a cute little spit:
"Liar."
She had almost been duped by sweet talk.
You only cross paths with me briefly during the daily performances—what could you possibly know about me?
Besides, someone as stupid as me—how could mere effort...
"Second Year, Liya Angel."
Professor Prang’s stern reading sounded in her ear.
Liya went blank.
In her dewy eyes, it was as if a stone had fallen into the lake, sending light ripples across the surface.
In an instant, it felt like the moment right before every one of her performances.
All sounds dropped away. free𝑤ebnovel.com
She stood up blankly, lowered her head blankly, and blankly... looked at that handsome man resting his chin on his hand, smiling.
"See?"
Muen said happily:
"My experience won’t be wrong. In this world, effort will never deceive you, Miss Liya."
