End-of-Term Assessment (3)

“It’s nice to see you after a while.”

I had ended up entering Lucy’s room.

Even though I’m not a student here, staying at Ophelius’ Hall for a long time only causes trouble for Belle.

Therefore, my intention was to quickly share the matter and listen to the response later on… but the maids insisted on pushing me to have a cup of tea before leaving.

“If I were to explain… what was said earlier sounded a bit off… if I go into the details, it’s like this.”

Eventually, while drinking the tea that the maid had served, I ended up spending considerable time explaining to Lucy the reasons behind my visit.

Honestly, it’s not a complex story. In summary, it concludes quickly.

“Anyway, from my perspective, it’s a journey that risks my life. Of course, I have to go as far as Rothtaylor’s dukedom, and it will take a significant amount of time, so it’s not like I’m asking for help without offering anything in return.”

Ophelius’ Hall being what it is, Lucy’s room was impressively large. It is, after all, the room of the top student in the entire school.

Regardless of Lucy’s indifferent nature towards her own treatment, as a scholar, she has no choice but to provide the utmost care.

“If it’s not a menial task then…?”

At a table in the corner of the private room, opposite the seat I had taken.

Lucy, lounging in a lavishly ornate wooden chair, asked in a dazed voice.

“It depends on what you want.”

At the moment, I couldn’t determine what Lucy wanted. However, there were things I could offer.

“As I’ve explained, my father has summoned me with the intention of reinstating me as a member of the Rothtaylor family, and to restore all the authority and power I have lost. Whether that’s truly his goal or if there are other ulterior motives remains uncertain.”

Lucy skimmed around her teacup as she listened, then nodded her head.

She did not seem particularly interested in my story, but upon closer observation, she was carefully listening with perked ears.

“If you accompany me and it becomes troublesome for my father to harm me… there is a high chance that I could regain the glory of the Rothtaylor family name as planned.”

If my father doesn’t find it easy to harm me, he might wait and try to keep control over me for a while, not wanting to deepen my suspicion.

If I can steer the situation that way, I might retake the role of the eldest son of the Rothtaylor family, even if it’s just in name for now. Whether I can regain the position of heir is unclear.

As the first son of the continent’s greatest dukedom, even a nominal position allows for a broad range of actions.

“Invest in me.”

“Investment?”

“If I return to my position as the eldest son of the Rothtaylor family, I’ll do whatever I can for you from that role. Of course… there isn’t much I can do from a merely titular position.”

In reality, the position with actual authority, the heir, was held by Tanya, and more importantly, if Crebin Rothtaylor decided to press down on me, there was little to be done with just noble power.

But my goal wasn’t really the position of the Rothtaylor family’s eldest son to begin with.

“From here on… Lucy, I can only say this because I truly trust you.”

“To me?”

“Well, we’ve had our fair share of sticking together.”

As Lucy swallowed a breath and nodded, I bluntly stated my intentions.

“I plan to dethrone Crebin Rothtaylor.”

It’s patricidal and treasonous.

If someone heard this, it wouldn’t be surprising if I were dragged to a gallows instantly.

Lucy slightly furrowed her brows but I continued without minding.

“Whether the next head will be me or Tanya is uncertain, but what’s clear is that I have no intention of leaving my father in power.”

“The reason… is it revenge?”

Lucy’s question was short and to the point.

She was asking if my efforts to dethrone my own father — who had banished me from the family and even tried to kill me — were driven by vengeance.

If the blade I bore was one of vengeance, would Lucy be inclined to aid me?

After much contemplation, I shook my head side-to-side.

“I’m just trying to survive.”

“…”

“Nearly all the crises I face have my father as their source.”

He repeated inhuman experiments to perfectly control the evil god Mebuler, and even tried to sacrifice the entire school for his cause.

Despite sacrificing countless lives, he wore a mask pretending to be a benevolent and ethical ruler, a façade that I’m well aware of.

Likely, his attempts to kill me were also necessary for his plans.

“My father, Crebin Rothtaylor, isn’t the clean man the public believes him to be. If I can find evidence to reveal this truth to the world, it might be possible to dethrone him and restructure the power dynamics within the Rothtaylor family.”

“…”

“I don’t have a lust for power, but I’m certain that I’ll ascend to a higher position than a mere eldest son in the process of that restructuring. I might obtain authority that cannot be gained through sheer military strength alone.”

The power held by lineage and family prestige is entirely different from that of mere military might.

Eventually, the conversation came full circle.

“Invest in me.”

I spoke while looking straight at Lucy.

Risks that would, if taken the wrong way, land me on a scaffold.

From Lucy’s perspective, her immense powers could prevent such an outcome, but my situation was entirely different.

It seemed she wasn’t unaware of how serious sharing such information was.

“I… don’t invest. Investments are too complicated.”

Eventually, her tiny lips parted, and she spoke in her usual absent-minded voice.

“As you already know… I’m not particularly interested in things like power.”

“That does seem to be the case.”

It was a shot in the dark, a gamble on words. I already knew Lucy wasn’t interested in such worldly power.

“So what… am I interested in?”

I hadn’t anticipated her following up.

Lucy grabbed the witch’s hat, put it on abruptly, and with a springy step, went over and flung open the window.

Unlike usual, her white hair fluttered untamed in the wind.

“Do you think I’ve kept my promise with that old man?”

Lucy had repeatedly saved the college from various dangers.

She always tried to do her part from her own position.

But the imminent danger to the college that only Lucy could avert, as foretold by Archmage Gluckt, never came.

Despite Archbishop Verdieu’s rampages and the Apostles of Telos flooding the island, the trials that only Lucy could resolve were supposed to weigh solely on her shoulders.

However, I intervened, and the solutions largely came from my hands.

In the end, Lucy did not rampage as the last boss in the third act, and everything settled peacefully.

Then was this trial truly what Archmage Gluckt had foreseen? If it was solved so easily, why had Gluckt held Lucy’s hand and desperately asked for her promise?

That lingering doubt remained in Lucy’s heart and wouldn’t disappear.

Incomplete combustion.

Lucy’s heart held a corner filled with doubts, dragging along the burden passed from Gluckt, wondering if it was truly over.

Perhaps fulfilling that promise was her last chance. It was wholly Lucy’s perspective.

“After fulfilling that promise, what should I live for?”

“That’s a tough question.”

“Actually, I didn’t expect an answer.”

– Click.

Lucy shut the window and turned towards me.

Then she continued to walk over, passing up the chair she had been sitting in, and instead hopped onto the table.

Only when perched on the edge of the table were we eye level.

“As I said, I’m not interested in power. If I help you… it’s just because I want to. There’s no other reason.”

Lucy said, glancing down.

“But… I won’t help for nothing.”

“What do you want?”

“It might not be something grand, or perhaps it actually is quite significant.”

Lucy clenched her tiny hand before extending a pinky finger.

As I looked on in puzzlement, she looked down and spoke.

“What I fear the most… is the emptiness that will come after fulfilling the promise with that old man… after disburdening every weight.”

Atop the peaks of the vast Rameln mountains, a girl stood straight, gauging the vastness of a world without Gluckt.

Now, there’s no remaining family, bonds, or goals… nothing left.

“Don’t let me be consumed by that emptiness.”

“How exactly…?”

“Be my reason for living.”

The phrase was not particularly explicit.

The inherent meaning left plenty of room for interpretation.

Yet the weight of the words was heavy and serious, so I couldn’t readily lock pinkies.

At a glance, Lucy was neither crying nor smiling.

She simply stared at me in her usual dazed manner, just extending a tiny pinky finger.

If I didn’t lock pinkies, what expression would appear on her face?

Just imagining that was enough to make my breath catch.

Of course, that was only in my imagination.

Our pinkies were already locked.

What significance did this hold for Lucy? It might be greater or lesser than I thought.

Regardless, perhaps wanting to hide her expression… Lucy crawled into my embrace, still wearing her witch’s hat, and we embraced tightly without a word exchanged.

And so… we spent a considerable amount of time like that.

*Assistant Professor Claire’s face was completely pale.

It was the day the written exams ended. It was said that Claire single-handedly handled the entire written exam process.

It didn’t make sense how the work, completed in almost three days, could be managed physically.

“…”

When I returned to Assistant Professor Claire’s office following the exam, there was a corpse sprawled out on the desk.

During exams, Claire always carried a deadpan expression, but this time, the corpse was a robust man.

It was Clevius Nortondale, a doctoral student and a student assistant attached to Professor Claire’s office.

An always gloomy person who sucked the energy out of everyone, but reliable as a student assistant.

Everything in the book was wrong… pathetic rat… a deficient rat…”

It seemed he made a multitude of mistakes in the written test.

Small mistakes could be covered up in the practical exam, and Clevius had the skills for that… But as previously mentioned, Clevius has an odd tendency for low self-esteem.

“The practical exam is tomorrow, Clevius. How long are you going to sulk like this? Do you really want to concede the top spot?!”

A girl was sitting next to Clevius, slapping his back. With impressive sharp eyes and orange hair… she had become a familiar face by now.

She is Elvira Anis, the undisputed top student of the second year in the Department of Alchemy.

“Oh, senior Ed has arrived.”

“What brings you here, Elvira?”

“I wanted to get feedback on the manufacturing theory of the elemental resistance reagent I developed. While potion making is the expertise of the Department of Alchemy professors, I thought it’d be best to ask the Elemental Studies professors of the Department of Magic for a more accurate understanding of elemental resistance.”

Elvira had placed an array of documents and flasks atop the central table in the lab.

“But, it looks like I chose a bad time. Assistant Professor Claire is fast asleep with her eyes open right now.”

I put down my light load on the table and glanced at Assistant Professor Claire.

With her pallid, burnt-out appearance and barely breathing, she looked more like a haunted doll than a person.

“I deserve death…! Even after practicing the sword stance hundreds of times, I still can’t memorize it properly, so what’s the point of living…! And how come my head goes blank on the test when I’ve memorized the compatibility of magical gears over and over…! What am…? Why am I even alive…?”

Clevius, who had been screaming in despair, suddenly locked eyes with me.

“What, what do you want, Ed Rothtaylor! Got a problem?! Are you also mocking me?! Ha… damn it….”

“…”

“Thinking you’re all high and mighty now that your reputation’s a bit better, seeing everyone else as beneath you…?! What’s with that look! Thinking of me as a pathetic guy, too…! Sure… I guess so…! As if you’d be any different…! We’re both pathetic…! Stop looking at me with such scorn!”

– Bang!

Elvira pushed Clevius’ head down onto the desk with a flick of her hand.

Anis searching for documents near the bookshelf and Yenika, who had just arrived at the lab, both opened their eyes wide in surprise.

I… wasn’t too flustered.

“Oh my, Clevius. What kind of language is that in front of your senior?”

“Elvira. What does it matter to you! And you also look down on me…!”

“Oh, pathetic Clevius.”

“Look at that!”

Elvira grinned and grabbed Clevius by the collar, turning to me to say,

“Sorry, senior Ed~. It seems like Clevius could use a bit more education. I need to instill some manners in him and straighten out his mental state for tomorrow’s practical exam, so I’ll take him with me for a while. It looks like Assistant Professor Claire is resting for the day anyway… That should be fine, right?”

“What are you…?! Who are you to order me around…?! Aaaaack!”

“Be quiet, Clevius.”

The moment Clevius tried to resist with flailing arms, Elvira pulled out a vial from her pocket and poured its contents over his head.

He was treated almost like an animal.

“Aaaaack! What is this! I feel… my strength draining…”

Elvira, with a grunt, forcefully dragged away the weakening Clevius.

Yenika moved to the side to clear the path and opened the door for them.

Pleading that he made a mistake and begging someone to stop her… Clevius was dragged out of the lab like that.

“See you next time!”

Her cheerful farewell sent shivers down my spine.

“Looks like you did well on the written exam, huh? You look pleased.”

Anis asked.

After the commotion, the lab returned to silence.

Assistant Professor Claire’s lab members. Anis, me, Clevius, and Senior Yenika.

Compared to other professors’ labs, it was considered to be an assembly of elites, but even among them, Anis was renowned for her efficiency.

True to her reputation, she was busy as ever, shuffling documents today.

“I did alright, more or less.”

My performance on the written test seemed satisfactory. Not once since I enrolled have I ever stumbled on a written test.

Even during times when I was leaning against a wooden shelter, living in the wild, I never skimped on the effort I put into memorization.

Now in a much-improved environment, it was only natural that I was able to produce better results.

The problem was the practical exam.

The target for this exam was nothing more and nothing less than the top student of the grade.

With such a lofty goal, the importance placed on the practical exam was even greater.

“About the practical exam… Are we sure it can still proceed…? It’s tomorrow, after all.”

My biggest concern was the elemental studies exam.

Assistant Professor Claire was in a near-comatose state, and she was overseeing all stages of the exam.

The elemental studies class typically involved a duel with the professor in charge.

As a new assistant professor, it’d be expected that Claire wouldn’t be pushed around by regular students… but right now, she’s clearly not in a state fit for dueling.

“Well, I guess another elemental studies professor will have to step in… I’m not sure if Assistant Professor Claire has made any prior arrangements for that.”

– Bang!

Just then, the door swung open again.

The usually mild-mannered Senior Yenika flinched with surprise and looked toward the door, where a middle-aged man was staggering in.

His untrimmed hair and beard were a mess, and the scents of tobacco smoke and alcohol were wafting off of him.

Stumbling around the lab, he made his way to Claire.

His drunken state belied any sense of stability, yet he skillfully wound his way across the room, knocking into tables and hitting his head on bookshelves until he reached the near-comatose assistant professor.

“Uh… Hmph! Professor Krayd…! What brings you here…”

It was a testament to the junior professor’s practical instincts; sensing something amiss, she woke up almost forlornly.

“Alright, Assistant Professor Claire. Are you managing well.. hic.”

“Yes, sir… The written exams are all wrapped up, and… we just have the practical duels left to do…”

“I’m here because Dean McDowell gave me an earful. How could all the reports, from understanding the written test material to supervising duties, end up filed under the name of the junior professor? What exactly am I doing…”

He muttered as if he couldn’t believe his own words.

The student assistants looked at each other incredulously.

“Indeed… if you’re getting paid, you should be working… That McDowell, who couldn’t meet my eyes during his prime… now bites back at me since he’s the dean… I feel a real sense of crisis, too…”

Then why did he drink? Anis seemed to have that question at the tip of her tongue, but held back.

“It seems like the written tests kept you quite exhausted, huh?”

“Yes, sir… That’s true…”

“Then it’s settled… I’ll take over the practical exam.”

Before Claire could respond, he grasped her head with his hand and gently pushed it downwards.

“Go back to sleep~.”

He then proceeded to chuckle drunkenly and stagger back to our table.

Anis and Yenika, who had been next to the bookshelf, visibly sweated.

“Oh my, this hangover~.”

After groaning and grumbling for a bit, he eventually slumped his head down and said,

“So, you’re Ed Rothtaylor.”

How he knew me was not something I could ask; after all, he was Assistant Professor Claire’s supervisor. If he had wanted to know about me, he could have easily found out.

However, I couldn’t fathom why he was singling me out for a conversation.

Professor Krayd spoke clearly despite his inebriated state.

“Your practical exam is tomorrow.”

“Yes, that’s correct but…”

“Then… shall we have a duel.”

“… Pardon?”

*There was once a time when the Clorel Empire was embroiled in a war with the Ain tribe.

A tale from the past, now a story found only in history books.

The Ain tribe, now pushed to the fringes of the northern territories and diminished in power, were once formidable enough to threaten the very lifeline of the empire.

Even as the warfront brought despair upon the imperial capital of Chloeron, an indomitable hero led his soldiers from the forefront – the guardian of the capital, Obel Forcius.

Supported by three young wizards.

The Decimator Zellan, the Explorer Glast, and the Outlaw Krayd.

Some aged and faded away, some still active and nurturing successors, others tragically concluded their scholarly endeavor.

All had wielded power within their fields, but now they were all but memories in the flow of time.

Krayd, once wandering the world detached from the times, returned to an academic role – whether it was fate’s intention.

Resistant at first to rejoin the faculty, he couldn’t help but accept the request to fill Glast’s vacant position for reasons unknown.

Looking back, the cause didn’t seem to matter—an afterthought to Krayd, at least.

In contrast, Ed Rothtaylor was struck dumb.

[ Shortly, the Elemental Studies practical exam will commence. Ed Rothtaylor, please proceed to the dueling arena. ]

Krayd the Outlaw, who had vanished into Keheln’s lawless realm for years, had returned to the professoriate, and his initial appearance before the students was to conduct a dueling practice.

Ed, standing in the dueling ring, was still in disbelief.

Students from irrelevant departments like Combat and Alchemy had come in droves out of curiosity about Krayd’s prowess, uninvolved with the exams.

When Tanya Rothtaylor, the student council president, arrived after hearing the rumors, the gathering was gripped by an expectant hush.

In the combat practice hall of the Obel facility.

The sight of Professor Krayd, hand buried in the pocket of his professorial white robe and dark circles under his eyes, greeted all who were present.

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