[225] 2. Waiting for the New Term (3)
@
Vashka, the capital.
The Jerome family had been educators for generations, producing excellent teachers and ranking among the most influential houses in the kingdom.
When asked who could be higher than the king, the joke answer—"the king's tutor"—wasn't far from the truth.
Gather their pupils together and they'd be enough to run a country.
Alpheas arrived at the Jerome family main residence and, guided by the butler, walked down an ancient-style corridor.
He'd known them for thirty years, but this was his first time going to her room.
When the butler opened the door, a splendid sight greeted him.
The floor was so clean it reflected faces, and shelves running three tiers high along the walls were filled with all manner of antiques.
A leopard-hide rug large enough for ten people to lie on was spread to the north; given her disdain for fakes, it had to be genuine. Whether a tiger that big actually existed was another question.
She sat on the sofa atop the rug. She was in her fifties, yet looked young enough to pass for someone in her thirties.
Still beautiful now, she had been truly something in her youth. So prim and tidy, men couldn't even speak to her easily back then.
"If you're here, close the door and sit. What are you standing there for, gawking? Still stupid as ever."
Alpheas couldn't help laughing.
Her habit of looking down on every man in the world was unchanged. Her lark-like clear voice was the same too, making it feel as if time had reversed.
"No, it's just interesting. I wondered what kind of place you'd be living in, and it seems you moved your temper along with you."
"You barged into someone's house and then have the gall to talk nonsense. How could a bumpkin like you possibly know the value of my things?"
The rug had to be top-tier. So Alpheas, still wearing his shoes, deliberately walked over it with light, teasing steps.
It was a small indulgence—the man who had once made the proudest woman on earth cling to his pant leg was taking a little revenge.
She didn't scold him. Instead, she looked more bemused than angry.
"What are you doing now? Ah, never mind. Just tell me your business."
Alpheas split his lips into a mischievous smile. Thirty years ago or now, she looked the same.
Jerome Olivia.
A certified Grade-2 grand mage and currently an auditor on the teachers' council. Four years ago she had even served as headmaster of the Royal Magic Academy.
"Business? You didn't answer, so I came to see for myself."
"What do you want me to do about it? You caused trouble and got suspended from the faculty—why should I clean up after you? Headmaster of a provincial magic school? A six-month temporary post at that?"
"You don't have to be so set on it. If you want to stay longer, you can."
"Then why should I leave this fine house and go down to the provinces? For what reason?"
"It would be nice to grow old together and leisurely have tea."
Olivia's voice flashed with cold anger. In that moment she looked even more like the woman she had been when young.
"Are you under some illusion, Alpheas? My courting you was thirty years ago. And you haven't forgotten what you did to me, have you? Above all, you aren't handsome anymore."
"Haha! Maybe so. But you're still pretty."
Olivia ground her teeth. That's why she hated men—once you gave your heart, they acted like they owned everything.
He'd lost his headmastership and had nothing to boast about, yet there he was, grinning shamelessly like a beggar. It made her blood boil.
"Who do you think you are to be so brazen? I'm a certified Grade-2 grand mage who served as headmaster of the Royal Magic Academy. You're a Grade-4 mage and the head of a rural school. I made more money and earned more respect. So what gives you the right to act so bold when you're the one coming to ask me for a favor?"
"Hmm, I wonder? Maybe because you like me?"
"You...madman."
Olivia's face flushed. Old age hadn't turned him soft—he was spouting lines that never would have passed before. He said things now with a casual ease that would have been unthinkable in their youth.
"To be honest, I didn't want to show a groveling, pitiful side after not seeing you for so long. I thought that would be sad."
"Oh my, not at all. I've imagined countless times you coming to me on your knees."
Alpheas gave a bitter smile. In hindsight, her wounds had probably been deeper than his.
"Fine. If you're that insistent, make your request. Should I kneel here, would that do?"
Olivia snorted. What did it matter now if he knelt?
"So what have you been doing lately? Losing your job—have you developed a late-life passion?"
"Just reading, walking. I talk with Erina about this and that."
For the first time, shock crossed Olivia's eyes.
Erina had been Alpheas's first and last love. Even now, Erina lived in his heart.
'He still hasn't forgotten? What an idiot.'
After losing his wife and wandering for ten years, Alpheas returned and entered Olivia's tutelage, harboring the dream of becoming a teacher again. He was a genius who had established the light-ray theory, and Olivia had taught him with affection.
That affection was the problem. She should never have accepted someone older, talented, and, above all, handsome as her student.
Olivia, unable to control her growing love, confessed to Alpheas.
But Alpheas, unable to forget his wife, rejected her outright, and her life turned 180 degrees that day. Pride crushed, she had many nights of tears.
What stung most was the patheticness of losing the man she loved to a woman who was no longer alive.
Twenty-something passion sees nothing. In a fit of jealousy, she even desecrated a painting of Erina right in front of him.
For the first time, Olivia felt the chill in Alpheas's gaze. She clung to his pant leg and begged, but from that day on he didn't even treat her like a person.
She should have stopped then. But young Olivia was desperate and fiercely passionate—she had no courage to give up her first love.
Still, she shouldn't have gone to his room that night. It was the lifelong mistake.
"Don't get the wrong idea, Alpheas. The reason I'm not married isn't because of you. It's because men are just bothersome."
"Is that why you collect such strange things? Olivia, there's no human who doesn't want love."
"Love is a low feeling. My earlier courtship was about pride. I was haunted by a dead woman and didn't even give him the time of day."
"Suddenly… that night comes to mind."
Olivia's face went pale.
"You came to my room and took off your clothes…"
"Stop!"
She raised a hand and cried out. Thirty years had passed, yet it was as vivid as yesterday. It was the one time she had shown herself naked to a man.
At the time, she thought doing that might win Alpheas's heart. He wouldn't even grant her a single embrace.
'You bastard…'
Even now, the memory brought tears of humiliation.
To boast about the most shameful moment of her life—why must women always be the ones to suffer?
'I won't forgive you. I'll make you regret it.'
Having failed to intimidate him, Olivia moved to the point and picked up an envelope of documents from the sofa.
"Alright. Let's see."
The papers were information about the Alpheas School of Magic.
"Alpheas School of Magic. Ranked fourth among the five great magic academies. Ranked eleventh among all special-purpose schools. Not bad for a fool. When it first opened it was quite terrible."
"You had good luck. You had many fine students."
Olivia wanted to grab Alpheas by the head, the way she'd done when they were teacher and student.
"I heard a lot. There's a kid named Shirone, right?"
"You did your homework. Were you planning to accept from the start?"
"That's my business. What I'm curious about is that they've shot up so fast early on. Looking at achievements over the past ten years, they're barely hanging onto being one of the five great academies."
"I've done my best to give the students a good environment to learn in. Isn't that what matters? The school's rank isn't everything."
"Haha! You're still so old-fashioned."
Olivia uncrossed her legs and leaned forward.
"Fine. Six months. I'll take it. I'll make it far more prestigious than it is now."
"Oh? That sounds ominous. I'd be grateful if you did."
"On one condition."
Alpheas raised an eyebrow and smiled. He hadn't expected a favor to be granted without some cost.
"There are students I taught when I was headmaster at the Royal Magic Academy. Transfer those kids to your school. Here's their profiles."
Alpheas didn't answer right away; he first accepted the profiles.
Two boys and a girl, all seventeen, outstanding even at the kingdom's top Royal Magic Academy.
He flipped through each profile, and when he reached the last one his eyes widened.
"Dante? Is that the Dante I know?"
Olivia covered her mouth and laughed.
"Hoho! He's too good for your school. But I'm the head now, so—"
Alpheas blinked like a fool. He hadn't expected Olivia to pull out all the stops like this.
Olivia pointed at Alpheas and declared.
"Ehrain Dante and two others will transfer. That's my condition."
@
Five mages raced through the mountains of a wild region.
A young party in their early to mid-twenties, they were specialists in their fields and all held certified licenses.
Their target was a bandit hideout tucked in mountain ranges near the capital—a force not to be underestimated, a Rank-B wanted group.
Destroying the bandits would bring fame and reward, but their reason for climbing the mountain today was different.
"Why is it so quiet? Are they dead already? Even if they're rude, they're still kids."
"Huh! Why would that matter? They're not our kills. You were there too. Do you know how much those bastards disrespected us? Just because they went to the Royal Magic Academy—"
"Exactly. Even if they're immature, how dare they insult active certified mages. Kids these days are too arrogant. They need to get burned once to learn."
When they reached the hideout, it was as quiet as a mouse.
Puzzled, they opened the door and a surprising sight met them: about forty B-ranked bandits were sprawled on the floor.
The students who had been sitting at the round table greeted them.
"Oh? You're late. We've been waiting a long time."
The mercenaries were left speechless. They had only departed ten minutes later than planned. For students to annihilate a whole Rank-B bandit group within that time was impossible.
"Who are you lot?"
"Are you really getting serious over something so trivial? How embarrassing for adults. Heh heh!"
A tall, muscular boy who didn't quite look like a mage laughed.
He was Bonifar Closer, a student of the Royal Magic Academy.
With sun-tanned skin and a sharp face, his dark-brown hair stood up like a porcupine.
"Ha ha! You were boasting just a few days ago. Were you scared and intentionally late?"
A girl with catlike features, Sabina Victor, laughed and mocked the mercenaries. She was small for her age but well developed, her waist as slender as if bound by a rope.
The mercenaries clenched their teeth. Being defeated by students was humiliating. If word got out, they could be driven out of the mercenary trade.
"I think it's about time to admit it, right? We won, didn't we?"
Said Ehrain Dante, the one who had started all this. With storm-cloud-gray hair and a face both fierce and intellectual, he was the kind of handsome man who drew attention.
The mercenaries bowed their heads. For an active mage, reputation and achievements were everything. Which client would pay to hire a mage who had been beaten by students?