[638] Those Who Leave (1)
The administrator made an on-site announcement, but many people still couldn't leave—the afterglow of the graduation exam lingered.
Baikal stayed where he was, collecting the voices of foreign scouts.
As expected, the name they mentioned most was Shirone, and Elizabeth felt proud of that.
"Coming to Alpheas School of Magic was worth it. I don't know how exams went in other regions, but none of them will have gotten this much attention."
Now the scouts' job was to file their reports.
They would record detailed evaluations for all thirty candidates, rank them by grade, then submit them; the Magic Department at the royal palace would set contract terms and begin serious negotiations.
"We have to secure Shirone. Scouts from other countries have already started moving. They'll be preparing enormous signing bonuses and options."
"We still have a chance. Under the Red Line Accord, the Magic Department of the country that produced a student at its own schools has priority in negotiations."
The rule applied even to students who came from abroad.
"Convincing Shirone won't be easy. He proved his skill beyond doubt. If he exercises his right to refuse negotiations and is announced on the Red Line, countries around the world will compete to raise terms. He'd have no reason to accept otherwise."
"...He planned this from the start when he took the graduation exam. Now the tables have turned."
Lala said.
"We can't just renew the kingdom's top contract—we have to raise it dramatically. If the Empire makes an offer too, we mustn't be at a loss."
Elizabeth agreed.
"If the terms are reasonable, Shirone wouldn't necessarily want to leave Tormia. It's where he's lived his whole life."
It's hard to leave a place that holds the history of your life.
"The problem is what counts as 'reasonable.' What counts as 'dramatic' is set by precedent. The kingdom's top salary was fixed ten years ago at 24 million gold. Even excluding extra benefits and options, nobles complained. After all, back then he was just a graduate without the official certification."
Twenty-four million gold was an amount an unlicensed mage doing average work for Tormia's mercenary guild couldn't earn in ten thousand years.
Even taking the enormous value magic produced into account, the income gap was staggering.
It was the peculiar nature of the magic field: an exclusivity rooted in manpower that shut out other industries, issues tied directly to national defense, and the competitive psychology of nations integrated through the Red Line network.
In practice, any mage known worldwide was someone every country wanted to lock down by pouring tens or hundreds of millions of gold into a contract.
"But the candidate passed the official certification easily and is now commander of the kingdom's Royal Guard magic corps. If we're renewing the top contract, certification won't be an issue."
"Then how much do we offer? One hundred million? A billion? The Empire can pay it. Not because Shirone's magic is a hundred or a thousand times stronger—but because it's magic only Shirone can do. If they try to outbid us with money, the kingdom won't stand a chance."
If Baikal, the veteran, predicted it, he was likely right.
"We'll need to offer more than money in the initial talks. Since he's a commoner, granting a noble title is one option. But I doubt the Magic Department will go that far."
"Why not? Shouldn't we obviously try to get Shirone?"
"That's because we're both mages and scouts. You have to consider the nobles' backlash, the fallout if Pony—a member of the royal family—fails, and other political consequences. From now on, it's politics."
Deep lines formed on Baikal's face.
"And politics always betray common sense."
* * *
The participants who had rested in the waiting room left the colosseum only after most of the audience had cleared out.
Spectators who hadn't yet left the school clapped from a distance, and countless parents looked around for their children.
"Mom!"
Shirone spotted Olina and Vincent standing with the Ozent family and ran to them.
"Shirone!"
Of course Olina was the first to hug him; she buried her face in the chest of her now-grown son and sobbed.
"That was tough, wasn't it? You're not hurt anywhere, are you?"
Even after climbing the huge mountain that was passing the graduation exam, Shirone's modestness—caring first about his mother's worry—brought tears to his own eyes.
"I'm fine, Mom. I'm sorry."
He didn't want to show how fiercely he'd fought.
"You did well. You really did, Shirone."
Vincent pulled both his son and wife into his arms; Rian and Reina watched the scene with warm smiles.
Other participants reunited with their parents, and Amy's mother, Isis, pointed toward the colosseum.
"There—Amy's coming."
Her face revealed nothing—pensive or numb, it was hard to tell.
"Amy, over here."
Hearing Isis, Amy snapped back to herself, bowed her head, and approached.
She placed fourth in the final rankings.
High up, but whether her pride—she'd never lost first place as a child—could accept that was uncertain.
"We're worried. You retook the exam; you must've really wanted it."
Amy's father, Shakora, said sternly.
"Don't show it. Pretending not to notice helps more."
Amy stopped before them, bowed, and her shoulders trembled.
"Mom. Dad."
Not knowing what to say, she burst into tears and flashed a V sign with her hand.
"I...did it. I passed."
Shakora couldn't hold back and hugged his daughter, choking up.
"Yes! Good job, my girl! You're the best!"
Fourth place now didn't mean fourth forever.
Bearing the Karmis family's honor, how heavy had the pressure been for her second try?
"Now it's only the beginning, Amy! Be proud of what you've accomplished!"
If they'd done their best and were satisfied, a child's ranking didn't matter to parents.
"Our daughter passed!"
Shakora, losing his composure, shouted; Isis's face flushed.
"Darling, don't. You're embarrassing—"
"Ha ha ha!"
Amy wiped her tears and blew her nose, then smiled brightly.
Unlike the overflow of family love in the Karmis household, the Mercodain family were more reserved.
"I never expected you'd graduate. Maybe my head really has gone rusty."
At Albino's opening remark, Arganes jabbed him in the side.
"Is that what you say to your son? Congratulations, Iruki."
Arganes spoke politely to his son; Iruki only nodded.
Though she had raised him, Mercodain blood separated emotion from reason, and Arganes found it harder to deal with his son as he grew.
"You really are getting rusty. Want me to open it and clean it for you?"
"Kuk kuk kuk kuk!"
At their characteristic blunt humor, Albino snickered and touched his nose.
"All right, what will you do now? If you want me to clean your head, I won't stop you."
Iruki looked back at the colosseum.
"I'm satisfied. I'll go to Yongroe."
Albino's mouth twitched knowingly.
Machines can be used and discarded, but people produce successors.
Iruki would make a more than adequate successor.
"Are you sure? This world isn't easy. I think being a mage is a decent life."
"You said you were satisfied."
One question was enough to confirm his resolve.
"Graduate and come to the capital. Prepare yourself."
Each family had its tendencies, but in the end they were family.
And elsewhere, an awkward reunion was taking place between people who were less than strangers but not close either.
"Congratulations."
Bolum offered a handshake, but Neid turned his head as if not wanting to speak.
Bolum withdrew his hand awkwardly and nudged his wife.
"Say something, will you?"
Teria glared fiercely, but Neid no longer seemed frightening.
He had gained the freedom to do as he pleased.
"Are you going to be a mage?"
Teria might not care for her son personally, but she knew exactly which mages made fortunes. She also knew that being runner-up could mean a huge signing bonus.
"No. I won't be a mage. There's no association that would take someone like me."
Teria's face crumpled.
"Why did we even send you to the School for—!"
"All right. If you don't want to, don't do it."
At Bolum's words, Teria's eyes widened.
"Honey! What are you saying!"
"Stop it, you too. We didn't do everything right either. All right, Neid. If not a mage, what will you do?"
They were people who didn't want to say more than necessary, but family made their mouths move.
"I'm not quitting immediately. Even as an unlicensed mage, I can work. Then I'll save money to open an alchemy shop. In my name, not West's."
His words were full of denial and mistrust toward his family, yet Bolum nodded and produced a document from his inner pocket.
"Take this. Land I kept to give you someday. Sell it and use the proceeds to open your shop."
Neid looked up in surprise, but it was Teria who was even more shocked.
"Honey! How could you do this without consulting me...! And where did this money come from?"
"Not yours. Not mine either. Grandpa left it to you. So don't worry—just take it."
"You're telling me this now? How are we supposed to live like this!"
Bolum took Neid's hand and pressed the documents into it.
"People get chances sometimes. Maybe this will be our last chance to be parents."
Neid stared at the envelope signed by his grandfather, then handed it to Teria without expression.
"Take it. I don't need it."
At the unexpected words, Teria's face drained of color.
"Are you cutting ties? Does this mean you never want to see us again?"
"No. When I'm stable, I'll visit. Take care of yourselves."
As Neid turned away, Teria whispered faintly.
"...I was going to leave."
Neid stopped.
"I was going to go back too."
"I know."
For the first time in his life, Neid could smile in front of his mother.
"Don't worry. I'm not afraid anymore."
He wouldn't resent anyone, nor hate the world.
If he swam desperately and finally reached shore, perhaps the day would come when he could truly smile.
While Neid left his parents, Shirone was reunited with Rian after a long time.
"Thanks, Rian. I heard about it."
If not for Rian's fighting, he might still be wandering through the apocalypse's hell.
"Ha ha ha! Of course! If you knew how strong I've gotten you'd be shocked!"
Rian gave off an aura that made it clear he wasn't the same as before.
"In that spirit..."
Rian's eyes shone.
"Let's spar with swords. I'll avenge my old defeats—ow!"
Reina couldn't help herself and smacked him on the back of the head.
"Are you always so childish? What good is that now?"
"It's important to me! I have to beat Shirone!"
He was the same as ever, even if he'd grown.
"Rian, I can't beat you with a sword anymore."
Rian, embarrassed, cleared his throat.
"It's not like I expected any different—"
"So."
Shirone smiled.
"I'm counting on you from now on."
It was the answer he truly wanted to hear.
"Of course, Shirone."
Cut down anyone who threatens Shirone.
It was the first clause engraved in the kingdom of conviction.