Chapter 18

Chapter 18

This time, it was Klump who was caught off guard. As always, it felt as though his friend had a knack for toying with people.

“They say mastering magic grants foresight,” he remarked.

Alpheas shook his head. “Not necessarily. My encounter with the boy was brief, yet he left an indelible mark.”

Unearthing someone with Sirone’s potential was a rare find, even in a magic school. Furthermore, being a commoner, one could argue that there was no other boy like him in the city of Creyas.

“I believe it was about four years ago...”

Alpheas briefly recounted his chance meeting with the then twelve-year-old Sirone. This prompted Klump to discuss Sirone’s subsequent involvement with House Ojent.

“Sirone Arian...” Alpheas murmured, falling silent once again. But this time, he was truly lost in deep contemplation.

“It could be destiny, couldn’t it?” Klump suggested.

“Destiny is nothing but malarkey. Individuals shape their own futures. If we label everything as fate, then what isn’t fate?”

Once more, Klump felt like he was hitting a brick wall. He sighed in frustration, and a part of him felt a twinge of sadness. He could empathize with his friend’s hesitation, especially given the potential at stake.

“Do you still blame yourself?” he asked.

Alpheas remained silent.

“Your insistence on resisting noble pressures and upholding the special admission system likely comes from past regrets. But you’ve done everything you could and have nurtured countless talents. It’s time for you to forgive yourself.”

“To forgive oneself is the height of arrogance,” Alpheas chuckled. “I’m merely a fool who let go of a gift the gods granted me. My actions aren’t about seeking redemption. I act in the hope that history won’t repeat itself.”

Klump exhaled deeply. Though he held the title of a certified level-four mage and was the headmaster of a renowned school, his friend was far more than these titles. He was once a prodigy, and everything might have been different if not for that singular event.

“Even back in the day, you were always so self-assured,” Klump jested in return. “Alpheas, the shining star of House Mirhy, a genius of the century, is now just an aging headmaster. Oh, how unpredictable life can be.”

Perhaps it was the way one grew more accepting of pain with age, but Alpheas felt an odd comfort from the sharp jab.

Alpheas laughed heartily and retorted, “The talentless young man I once knew is now a certified level-three swordsman. The Kingdom of Tormia’s future seems... interesting, to say the least.”

The two shared a robust laugh, the playful blows only deepening their bond. In the contest of natural talent versus sheer determination, Klump had undoubtedly triumphed. Alpheas held nothing but respect for his friend’s journey and the grit it represented.

“As the years go by, I’ve come to believe that perhaps ‘genius’ is just an illusion we’ve created. It might simply be about finding a greater joy in something than others do. I wonder if that boy will confirm or challenge my perspective.”

“You would know better than anyone, wouldn’t you?” Klump asked.

Smiling, Alpheas moved toward the window. It seemed that the talent he once deemed unreachable, constrained by the boundaries of status, might now be reappearing before him after a gap of four years.

Alpheas didn’t believe in concepts like fate. He believed that only humans could shape their own futures. Yet, a sudden shiver ran down his spine. Could it possibly be fate after all?

“I will enroll Sirone.”

Learning Magic

Spring was in the air. With flowers in full bloom around Vincent’s cabin, Sirone eagerly awaited the entrance ceremony. For the household, gaining admission to the magic school was a badge of honor, and Vincent had kept it under wraps. He wanted to avoid any unfounded rumors that might complicate matters for his son.

Sirone deeply appreciated having such a thoughtful father. Even when House Ojent offered to find them a home in the city, his parents declined so as not to impose any further obligations on their son.

Time seemed to fly during those happy moments, and before long, the day of Sirone’s enrollment at the magic school had arrived.

With Temuran waiting beside the carriage, Sirone prepared to bid farewell to his parents.

“Father, I’ll be off now. I promise to write often.”

“Do well, my son! Study hard! And give me a kiss before you leave.”

Sirone hesitated, a look of discomfort on his face. Although he appeared young, he was seventeen. A kiss now felt rather awkward.

“I’m a bit too old for kisses...”

“Hey! If you won’t do it, then I will!”

Sirone tensed as he saw Vincent’s thick lips approaching, his throat constricting like a wilting flower. However, Vincent didn’t aim for his lips. Instead, he pressed a warm kiss to Sirone’s forehead and embraced him tightly.

“I’m proud of you, my boy.”

“Father,” Sirone whispered.

Sirone hugged him back just as tightly.

With the unwavering support of his parents, Sirone felt he could face his anxieties about attending the noble school.

“I’ll be off then.”

With that familiar farewell, Sirone stepped out of the house. Temuran approached, bowing his head.

“Please get on. I will escort you to school, Master Sirone.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Silence enveloped the two as they traveled in the carriage. Although it was a bit uneasy, considering that their roles had been reversed in a mere two years, Sirone remembered that even under the scrutinizing gaze of Master Louis, Temuran had vouched for him.

Upon their arrival at the main gate of the magic school, Temuran offered Sirone a hand, helping him disembark from the carriage. Considering the school was a place of great prestige, such careful manners were expected.

“The tuition and textbook fees will be taken care of by me. Don’t concern yourself with the financial aspects, young master. Just focus on your studies.”

Sirone nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, Mr. Temuran.”

“I’m merely doing my duty.”

“I feel I haven’t properly expressed my gratitude. Your favorable impression of me has given me this opportunity to attend the magic school. I won’t forget your kindness.”

“Regardless of how hard a commoner might work, they remain a commoner. They cannot outshine the nobility.”

Sirone raised his head and met Temuran’s stern, formal expression.

“However, not everyone gets such opportunities. Inside the school, you might find that many nobles won’t take kindly to you. But no matter what, you need to persevere. If you can weather the challenges all the way through, there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.”

The advice seemed to stem from Temuran’s own experiences, having climbed the ranks from an orphan to a respected butler. The core message was evident: If one persevered through all challenges, they’d ultimately reach the finish line.

“Thank you. I promise to become a mage.”

For the first time in the two years they’d known each other, Temuran’s face broke into a genuine smile. “If you’re ready, let’s proceed. You’ve been registered as a guest of House Ojent, granting you special admission. I’ll introduce you.”

At the school entrance, the guards stood just as imposingly as they had five years before. Regardless of whether they were the same guards who had turned Sirone away in the past, people could change, but the steadfast principles of their job would remain.

“How may we assist you?” asked one of the guards.

“This is Master Sirone, a new student enrolling in the school. Here’s his admission letter and official identification from House Ojent.”

After a brief examination of the admission letter, the guard didn’t even bother to check the identification. Clearly, anyone allowed to enter these prestigious grounds was no ordinary individual.

“It’s an honor to welcome you. I’m Marco, the main gate’s guard. I wish you a fruitful academic journey here.”

The treatment had vastly changed from five years ago, and Sirone was swathed in a mix of emotions. But he was no longer that same young child.

“Yes, thank you,” Sirone replied.

Facing Sirone, Termuran said, “I should be on my way now. Should you need anything, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”

After receiving the documents from Temuran, Sirone took his initial steps into his new journey at the magic school. The guards saluted him, and Sirone’s heart raced. It felt as if it threatened to leap out of his chest upon entering the magic school.

Inside the Alpheas School of Magic, this renowned breeding ground for prodigies, he wondered what lessons he would absorb and who he would come across. The towering structures spread across the campus loomed large, almost as if they were giant sentinels welcoming him.

***

The magic school spanned an entire mountain, covering a vast area of roughly seventy-five square kilometers. It housed a total of twenty-two buildings, including dormitories, and boasted over forty training grounds. With a student population of four hundred and twenty and a faculty of thirty-two distinguished professors, it was rightfully deemed the premier institution in the kingdom.

As Sirone stepped into the building that housed the admissions office, he was met with the sight of students bustling about, their faces aglow with enthusiasm. While awaiting the processing of his documents, Sirone’s gaze landed on the curriculum displayed on the wall. It’s impressively structured.

The Alpheas School of Magic utilized a “Class of Ten” system. With this structure, classes ten through eight were designated for novices, classes seven through four were for advanced learners, and classes three to one were graduating classes. In a graduating class, only ten were selected to graduate out of a potential thirty students after a relative evaluation.

Only ten will graduate? Given that the graduation test occurred only once annually, this meant that twenty promising students wouldn’t make the cut each year.

“You’re Sirone, aren’t you?”

Turning, Sirone found Alpheas approaching, looking just as he had five years prior.

Reminded anew that this place was a magic school, Sirone respectfully bowed his head. “Hello, I’m Sirone.”

“We’ve met before, haven’t we? Do you remember our encounter?”

There was no way Sirone could forget. It was that very event which had sparked his aspiration to become a mage.

“Yes, I remain deeply grateful for that time.” Sirone gave a respectful bow.

“I see. Well, let’s save the reminiscing for later. Right now, we have your entrance exam to focus on.”

“Pardon? An exam?” Sirone asked, taken aback. How could I possibly take a test when I haven’t been taught anything?

“Don’t fret,” Alpheas said soothingly. “It’s merely to gauge where to place you. Can you access the Spirit Zone?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Interesting.”

Opening the Spirit Zone on his own was definitely out of the ordinary. While that achievement was impressive outside the school, within its walls, it didn’t completely dispel Alpheas’ reservations. The reason Alpheas processed Sirone’s enrollment last was due to the age difference between him and the other incoming students.

Due to the specialized nature of the school, the majority of incoming students were under the age of ten, with very few over fourteen. On the other hand, given that Sirone was already seventeen, the timing was adjusted to sidestep any possible awkwardness or embarrassment.

He’ll need to begin with the basics. I regret not identifying his potential earlier. It would’ve been beneficial if he’d begun his journey a bit sooner.

Alpheas personally escorted Sirone through the campus. Even if they arrived early, the other students would likely still be in the middle of their tests. So, they changed their route to head toward the building with the classrooms.

In the face of a world so different from what Sirone had known until now, he couldn’t help but remain agape. Everywhere he looked, students were casting spells. Even though it was a novice class, the children’s extraordinary spells were a sight to behold. One girl hovered four stories high, chatting animatedly with a friend through an open window. Elsewhere, a boy had three books floating before him, skimming through their pages simultaneously.

Alpheas stole a glance at Sirone’s astonishment, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Things were about to escalate from here on out.

Entering Class Seven, the age of the students noticeably increased. They no longer engaged in playful displays of magic. Instead, their gazes were sharp and focused, so deeply engrossed in their discussions that they could easily overlook someone walking past.

“Wouldn’t condensing the coolant be more efficient than trying to drop the air temperature below freezing to initiate a reverse flow?” one student questioned.

Without missing a beat, another student countered, “The problem with that approach is it doesn’t support reversible reactions. What if, instead of reversing the energy direction, we manipulate the time axis?”

Sirone was taken aback by the conversations swirling around him. While he could discern the broad strokes of their discussions, the intricate specifics were beyond him. Suddenly, a door banged open down the corridor, revealing a girl with her hands clasped over her ears. The students momentarily expressed surprise but quickly resumed their activities. From their reactions, it seemed such disruptions weren’t rare here.

The girl at the center of the disturbance finally lowered her hands and approached Alpheas. “Good day, Headmaster!”

“Ah, hello there. Ran into a little snag, did we?”

“I had a glitch in the output circuit of my sound amplification experiment. It looks like I’ll have to redesign it.”

“Remember, balancing input and output is essential. However, ensuring a consistent electrical flow is the real key.”

“Thank you, Headmaster! I’ll keep that in mind.” Adjusting her glasses, the student made her way back to the lab.

Walking by, Sirone noticed several students deep in discussion over intricate magic circles. It’s as if I’ve entered a whole new realm. He suddenly felt a pang of how sheltered he’d been in his own bubble. Everyone around him seemed to have talents mirroring or even surpassing his own.

Arriving at a scoreboard, Sirone found the names of 270 students from the advanced classes neatly organized. In Class Four, considered the pinnacle of the advanced classes, there were forty-two students. Topping the list was a student named Amy Karmis.

That student must be from House Karmis... Thanks to his experiences with House Ojent, Sirone was familiar with many of the notable noble houses. The Karmis family was of first-class nobility, originating from the city of Creyas.

Truly amazing, Sirone thought to himself. Every new piece of information felt staggering. Yet, instead of intimidating him, it ignited a fervor within him. This was a world of relentless competition. He was eager to join the fray, to test his mettle and see where he stood.

“Hey, Amy! Wait up!”

Sirone turned his head. He knew he distinctly heard the name “Amy.” Offered a chance to see the advanced class’s top student, his eyes landed on a striking girl with vibrant red hair holding a book.

“Huh?”

A sudden, inexplicable tension caused his heart to flutter. Memories flooded back. Emotion surfaced before recognition, but after a few moments, it dawned on him. She was the girl from the alley, the one he had met five years ago.