[328] The Battle Mage's Philosophy (2)
"Argh!"
The snowball was solid enough to make his head ring. To make matters worse, he was standing on slick ice.
Jokre lost his balance and toppled forward.
The surprise lasted only an instant before anger boiled up. What kind of shameless person pulls a stunt like that?
"What the—! Who are you!"
Jokre felt the back of his head and turned around.
A gray-haired pretty boy stood just outside the rink, flicking more snowballs with casual ease. In his other hand he held an iced coffee—odd for such cold weather.
"You might be unpopular with the girls, but you don't mess with a couple on a date."
Jokre narrowed his eyes at the familiar face.
Vivian murmured in surprise, "That kid… that's Dante, right? Eirhein Dante."
Dante stepped onto the ice with his shoes still on. Pushing off, he slid toward them on one leg, and Ludvans and Vivian unconsciously made way.
No one could believe their eyes.
Since she'd entered magic school, Dante had never once lost the kingdom's top spot—an idol to everyone. So when news of his defeat by Shirone ran in the academic journals, every student in the kingdom had been stunned.
Back in his school days, Jokre had clipped articles about Dante and pasted them into a notebook, vowing to reach that level.
But how long was he going to cling to student nostalgia?
Above all, getting whacked on the back of the head before even introducing himself was a lifetime humiliation.
"Hey, you—"
Dante ignored Jokre and walked up to Shirone.
"Long time, Shirone. Amy too."
Amy crossed her arms and shot him a glare.
"Oh? Now you're calling out seniors by name?"
"Haha! We'll be in the same graduating class next term anyway."
Amy didn't seem offended. During the Duel of Two Thousand she'd been treated deferentially as a junior, so a casual tone felt awkward—but Dante was so chill that those memories seemed already erased.
Still, even rivals were nice to see outside of school.
Shirone smiled. "Fancy seeing you here. What brings you?"
"As you can see, I came to hang out. I travel every vacation. This is my first time in Creas—someone recommended the winter festival."
"I see. You came alone? Where are Closer and Sabina?"
"They went straight into special training as soon as break started. They're probably realizing what hell feels like by now. Honestly, exhausting to be around."
Dante shrugged and Shirone laughed.
He'd been enjoying himself and half-wondering if it was okay to relax like this. Still, seeing Dante so at ease made his own burdens seem small.
Dante really was something. Whenever Shirone remembered the Duel of Two Thousand, he was still surprised he'd won. Putting magic aside, Dante had star quality—the sort of presence you couldn't get just by trying.
True to his Bashka capital origins, he dressed well: a blue coat, black skinny pants, a purple scarf—subtle but striking. He even had a piercing in one ear. Shirone, who knew nothing of fashion, couldn't help being impressed.
Jokre, however, felt otherwise.
He'd been completely ignored.
And in front of Amy. No—right in front of Amy's boyfriend, Shirone.
What stung most was how radiant Shirone, Amy, and Dante looked together.
Geniuses stick with geniuses, huh? Seeing them like this made Jokre's blood boil.
He inhaled deeply and spoke. "Hey, Dante."
"Yeah?"
Dante sucked on his straw and turned. He seemed to have already forgotten what he'd done moments before.
"Shouldn't you apologize for hitting someone? Especially a mage senior."
"Senior? Who are you?"
"I'm Jokre, graduate of Ains School of Magic. Don't go acting like you're some hot prospect."
Dante blinked at the straw in his mouth.
The longer Dante stayed silent, the more unsettled Jokre became. Maybe it was just inferiority complex—but he could picture what Dante must be thinking.
Of course, Ains was Jokre's beloved alma mater, and he wasn't ashamed of transferring. But Dante had graduated from the Royal School of Magic—the nation's most prestigious academy. Even if he now attended Alpheas to avenge his loss to Shirone, that school was still one of the five great academies. More to the point, he had been Olivia's direct disciple—Olivia, the certified Second-Rank archmage—so there was no way Jokre would be on his radar.
"Sorry. Never heard of you. And you're the one bothering a couple on a date."
"That…!"
Jokre's eyes flashed. "Never heard of you" stung like a thorn. Ludvans and Vivian, who'd held some hope because Jokre's name was known in minor circles, cooled at once.
"Dante, don't get cocky. Who do you think you are? You're just a student. You lost badly to Shirone. Shirone's a commoner. All that genius talk—Amy's just a repeat student in the end."
"You sure like to narrate the whole thing."
Dante's face didn't change as he replied. "That's the difference between us. We get written up in the journals; you guys buy them and read."
Shirone's face heated.
If Shirone favored barbed retorts, Dante had a knack for trampling an opponent's weak points without mercy. It was cool, perhaps—but from the receiving end it was torture.
As expected, Jokre's group's faces twisted and murderous intent flashed in their eyes. If Dante meant to provoke, it had worked—but since that probably wasn't his intention, Shirone worried.
Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!
Jokre was furious. Why was he being treated like this? By rights the positions should be reversed: the successful graduate should be strutting while those others looked on with envy.
Hah! Pathetic. Do you think your school crest will live your life for you?
Jokre glared at Shirone's group and schemed how to make them submit.
Then something flashed under Shirone's coat. Closer inspection revealed a sheath.
Why was he carrying a sword at a festival? And he's a commoner—are commoners even allowed to carry weapons?
Jokre thought it over, then realization hit and he burst out laughing. "Ha! So that's it. In the end, you're the same as the rest of them."
Jokre's sudden change in mood made Dante edge back a little.
"You put on a big act, but you're drowning in insecurity. No wonder a commoner's got a sword. With a noble girlfriend, you probably wanted to look the part."
Vivian examined the weapon and gasped. "Oh my, it really is. Isn't that illegal?"
"Of course it is! Since when do commoners carry swords? How can you brag like that?"
Jokre stepped up and flung Shirone's coat open. Since a commoner carrying a sword was a grave crime, he showed no restraint.
Buttons popped and the coat split open, revealing Armand's silver sheath at Shirone's hip.
"Just as I thought. Pathetic. You really think you can pass for a noble like this?"
Shirone's eyes went cold. "Step back. And compensate me for my coat."
He forced his emotions under control. If his inner beast had been allowed to flare even a little, Jokre's neck would have been rolling across the ice.
I was too complacent.
Exact Control was an incredible ability, but its synchronization was so perfect it even reacted to the workings of the Depth‑1 demon god. Shirone had trained his mind to remain cool in any situation, but that didn't mean he had no emotions. A sliver of anger slipped through—and Armand came free of its sheath.
Shirone was angrier at himself for letting that happen.
Armand trembled at the scent of its master's fury, and the singing of steel reached Jokre's ears.
Jokre ground his teeth and glared. "You…!"
"Final warning. Leave now. Be rude again and I won't hold back."
Under the pressure of death, Jokre's legs went weak; he slid back and forth on the ice as if he might fall. Ludvans stepped forward and steadied him.
"Let's go. We're certified mages. If something happens here, we're the ones who'll lose."
It was meant to buoy Jokre's spirits—and it was sound advice.
"Hmph! Insolent brats! We'll see how that turns out."
Jokre spat insults until the end, but being dragged off by Ludvans made his exit look pitiful.
Only after Jokre's group had completely left the rink did Shirone sheathe Armand.
"Hey, hey, even if you're mad, you don't swing a sword around, right?" Dante said.
Shirone's eyes narrowed. "Funny. This is all your fault for provoking them. What are you going to do about my coat? You're paying for it."
"It's just buttons. I can sew them back on. By the way, that sword—what's up with it? Is it magic too?"
Amy glanced around nervously. "Let's move somewhere else. People are staring. The guard might show up."
They didn't know Shirone was a commoner yet, so they probably thought it a minor incident—but if the guard arrived and investigated, things would get complicated.
"Shall we go into a café and get something warm? Since you helped out earlier, you can pay."
"Why should I buy you coffee? And that thing you're drinking isn't even coffee, is it?"
"This is iced coffee. I said I wanted something warm."
"You… are you addicted to coffee?"
Dante winked with his iced coffee. "No. I'm a coffee aficionado."
* * *
Shirone and his group found a café in the shopping district called the Cozy Tea House and went inside.
Warmth flushed their cheeks.
Shirone shivered to shake the cold from his clothes, sat at a table, and took out his sewing kit.
Dante grabbed the menu. "When you travel you should try the local specialties. Let's see… 'Warm Coffee of the Ice Queen'? That's an odd name."
Amy waved a hand. "Weird names pass. I'll just have orange juice."
"Okay. Then I'll have the Warm Coffee of the Ice Queen. Shirone, what will you have?"
Shirone focused on sewing the button back on and said, "I'll have hot cocoa."