Chapter 897
KABOOM! BANG!
BOOM!
Barsabe, who had been swinging her sword, glanced toward the annex. Something had been exploding in there nonstop for a while now.
Her curiosity was quickly satisfied. Listening to the nearby students, it seemed Ian Hadel was in the middle of a magic class.
“Ian Hadel, huh? I hope he doesn’t get himself killed.”
“Right? If a precious young mage gets hurt, that’d be a disaster.”
…What a bunch of rude kids.
Barsabe narrowed her eyes and glared at them. The students, who had been wiping sweat and resting, immediately fell silent and hesitated.
“…Why?”
“What?”
“Why are you glaring at us?”
“Me? Am I?”
“Yes. Even now.”
“Oh? Guess I didn’t like that you were just spinning around five times and then collapsing. Professor! I challenge you to a duel!”
The octopus-like beastman professor wiggled his many arms as if granting permission. Barsabe immediately swung her sword and charged at her friends, who dropped their water bottles and fled.
“Come here!”
Especially you—the one who was talking about Ian Hadel’s portrait! I’m going to pull every tooth out of your mouth!
Barsabe’s eyes flashed fiercely as she lunged, and the professor applauded enthusiastically.
“That’s right! Swordsmanship is all about momentum! A blade riding the wave of momentum can cut through anything! Barsabe, try using your waist more flexibly! That’ll make it harder for your friends to block your attacks!”
“Professor! Why are you only helping Barsabe?”
“Aha! Friends, focus on Barsabe’s sword! Her swings don’t have a wide arc!”
“AAAAH!”
Clang! Clack!
They parried and countered repeatedly. The octopus professor swayed his body as if admiring the beauty of the duel.
“Ugh!”
At first, Barsabe had been annoyed by Ian Hadel’s constant teasing and swung her sword out of frustration. But now, it was different. With every clash, her focus sharpened.
Each vibration from the blades striking sent a fiery surge through her chest. Then, as Barsabe’s sword neared the professor’s neck—
Ziiing! Ziiing!
CHING!
The octopus professor blocked the blade with his own sword.
Barsabe caught her breath, emotions running high, while the students looked on in shock. The professor gently pushed Barsabe’s sword aside with his fingertips and praised her.
“Well done. Once again, Barsabe is excellent!”
“…Thank you, Professor.”
“All right, that’s it for today’s lesson. Everyone, good work. Keep striving for improvement, but don’t get lost in it. If you do, the sword you wield will end up cutting your own throat. Understand?”
“Yes, thank you for your guidance.”
“Now, salute!”
“Thank you!”
Barsabe bumped fists with the student she had sparred with and moved on. No words were exchanged, but their greetings spoke volumes—well done, that was fun, sorry, and so on.
As Barsabe slung her bag over her shoulder, the professor added a warning.
“Oh, and lately there have been many reports of student brawls in town! Proud Enerjes students must be careful not to get involved in such disgraceful incidents! Remember, Enerjes students are different from ordinary people!”
“Yes, understood.”
With class over, most students gave half-hearted responses and dispersed. The octopus professor wiggled away from the training ground, and Barsabe headed straight for the annex where Ian Hadel was.
BOOM! BANG!
Even in that brief moment, explosions continued. Worried, Barsabe quickened her pace and flung open the door marked ‘Room 203.’
Creak!
“Hmm?”
“Sis?”
She had expected some bizarre, violent, and absurd lesson in progress, but Ian Hadel and Hale were floating freely in midair, swimming through the air with ease. Barsabe frowned and scanned the classroom.
“Ian, are you okay?”
“Huh? What do you mean? Sis, look at this—I can fly now!”
Ziiing! Ziiing!
BOOM!
Ian blasted a magic orb against the wall, and the recoil pushed him back. So that loud noise all along had been from this.
“Ian, that’s freestyle.”
“Oh… impressive.”
“Butterfly stroke.”
“I’m backstroke.”
“Breaststroke.”
Wait, is this guy a professor? What kind of magic professor teaches swimming strokes? And in midair?
Barsabe gave him a suspicious look, and Hale explained.
“We’re practicing basic magic flight postures.”
“……”
That’s code for ‘Don’t tell the headmaster.’
Barsabe glanced at Ian happily flying around and replied.
“Class is over, Professor.”
“Oh, already?”
“Ian, shall I go ahead?”
“No, sis. Let’s go together.”
Tap.
Ian landed carefully, slung his still-unpacked bag back on, and bowed to Hale.
“See you tomorrow, Professor.”
“Good work, Ian.”
Creak!
Ssshh—
As the two kids left, Hale pulled out a lighter from his pocket and lit a cigarette. The curling smoke stirred his wandering thoughts.
“No matter how I think about it, that magic depth earlier was unreal. And the quantity…”
Having worked as a mercenary, he’d seen all kinds of people, but Ian Hadel made him feel like a mere mortal. This was what true genius looked like.
“The Magic Department’s in trouble.”
The arrival of a prodigy mage would shake the entire Magic Department’s standing. Hale chuckled softly, recalling the faint memories of past mages, and slowly landed. Far off, through the window, he saw Ian and Barsabe running along the path.
“We’ll have to watch a little longer.”
Tap tap tap!
“How’s the professor?”
“Hmm, seems like a good person.”
“Looks like a loafer, though…”
“Hey, here comes the carriage.”
The coachman, recognizing Ian and Barsabe, tipped his hat and greeted them. He took their bags and opened the door, guiding them inside.
“Romandro has already gone to the palace. I’ll be your driver today. Barsabe, are you headed to the palace as well?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Whoosh!
The carriage began to glide lightly down the path. Ian’s eyes caught a familiar face outside the window—Hans.
Hans was running alone, looking somewhat lonely.
‘Didn’t your brother come to pick you up today?’
Knock knock.
Ian tapped the coachman’s seat, signaling him to slow down. The carriage eased its pace and kept a steady distance beside Hans.
“Hans.”
“Huh?”
Hearing the familiar voice, Hans turned his head to see Ian looking down at him. Hans quickly looked away, clearly not thrilled.
“Your brother didn’t come today?”
“…He doesn’t come every day. He has to work.”
“I see. Want to ride with us? I’ll take you there.”
Ian thought about how he wanted to meet Hans’s brother again, but more than that, Hans looked like he was having a hard time.
His steps were weak, his face a little pale… But Hans immediately refused Ian’s offer.
“No thanks.”
“Why not?”
The boy didn’t answer. There was probably a reason, but since he wouldn’t say, Ian leaned against the window calmly and waited. The first to lose patience was Barsabe.
“Hey! Did Ian Hadel ever do anything to you?”
“……?”
“Even though he’s offering you a ride, you’re acting all cold. What the hell!”
“You’re the one at fault.”
“What?”
“Look, these are my wounds.”
Hans calmly pointed to the bandage on his forehead, then to a bump on the back of his head, scratches on his arm, and so on.
Barsabe looked at Ian, bewildered. Ian gave an awkward smile and a subtle nod, silently saying ‘Yeah, that happened.’
“Hans, I’m telling you, I’ll take you there.”
“No, I said I’m fine!”
Hans shouted just as—
Rumble rumble.
From somewhere came the sound of a stomach growling.
Ian and Barsabe froze, eyes wide. Hans’s pale cheeks flushed red. Today was a workday for his brother, and he hadn’t even had lunch.
“Oh, right, Hans. I haven’t eaten my lunch yet either—”
Ian rummaged through his bag, suddenly remembering. He’d been so absorbed in magic class that he forgot to eat. To be precise, thanks to the snacks Hale had given him, he wasn’t hungry.
“Want to eat this on the way?”
Hans stopped and stared at the lunchbox. No matter what, food was irresistible. As a little drool threatened to escape his slightly parted lips, Barsabe kicked the door open.
“Get in.”
“Y-Yes, thank you.”
Hans climbed into the carriage without hesitation and took the lunchbox from Ian.
“Where do you live?”
“…Ruggerspell.”
Ruggerspell—the slum notorious as a trouble spot in the city center. Barsabe hesitated for a moment, but Ian, unaware, cheerfully asked the coachman.
“Please take us to Ruggerspell!”
Hans devoured the lunchbox like a man possessed. Ian and Barsabe chatted casually to keep things light, and after a moment’s thought, the coachman turned the horses toward Ruggerspell.
Whoosh!
“Hans, do you have any siblings?”
“One older brother. Just the two of us.”
“Ah, I see. The one we saw last time?”
“Yeah. But why do you keep showing interest in my brother?”
Why, you ask? Ian smiled softly and tilted his head.
“I don’t really know.”
“Just got nothing better to do.”
“Hans, since you got into Energess, you must have some special ability, right? What is it? Is your brother normal?”
When Ian had sensed it before, there was definitely something there. So why was Hans the only one attending school? Hans chewed on his meat and answered.
“Mental math and memory.”
“Huh?”
“I never forget what I see once. No matter how big the numbers, I can calculate them instantly.”
“Whoa.”
A genius, no doubt. Ian and Barsabe were almost stunned with admiration.
Just because it’s a ‘special school’ doesn’t mean you need magic or supernatural powers. If a student showed potential to be a future asset to the empire, they actively supported their education.
“The tuition’s free, which is nice, but they don’t provide meals. Damn it.”
From Hans’s answer, Ian realized they’d never taken the magic sensitivity test.
Sad, but common. Ian himself was a ‘noble’ orphaned as a child, and only got the chance because of that. Otherwise, he might never have awakened his magical talent.
“If it weren’t for His Majesty, the late Emperor Jin Verosion.”
Then maybe this time, Ian could be the one to help someone else. What if one of these brothers had magical talent?
They’d escape financial hardship and live more comfortably. Wizards’ salaries were said to be dozens of times higher than ordinary people’s.
“Excuse me, young master, miss.”
The coachman suddenly stopped the carriage. Looking around, they had already reached the entrance of the slums.
“Do we have to go further in?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Well, there are a lot of thugs targeting fancy carriages here. If possible, I’d prefer to turn back here…”
Hans waved his hand dismissively and opened the carriage door. Even in broad daylight, bleary-eyed people nearby were snickering and watching them.
“You can let us off here. Thanks for the ride. Oh, and the food too.”
Hans strode forward without hesitation, and Ian followed right behind. They’d come this far today to meet Hans’s brother. If they turned back now, who knew when they’d get another chance?
“Wait, Hans.”
“Huh? Ian! You wait!”
And Barsabe followed, startled. The coachman shouted for them not to go, but the kids ignored him.
“Go ahead to the palace first! We’ll finish our business and come in!”
“Ian, come back! Miss, you can’t go!”
“I’ll protect Ian, don’t worry!”
“How will you get back?”
“By flying!”
“Excuse me?”
What kind of nonsense was that?
The coachman stared blankly after the kids, then, feeling the stares of some drunks nearby, quickly turned the carriage around. It was too risky to chase after them on foot; better to inform Lord Romandro or the count’s residence about the situation.
“Giddy-up!”
Crack!
The coachman cracked the whip, and the horses pawed the ground, bursting forward with renewed energy.