NDSIL 21

 Chapter 21

Academic Ties

“I’ve made up my mind!”

At Gwen’s sudden shout, Galahad furrowed his brow.

“Private! Tom!”

“It’s nothing, go back to sleep.”

“Yes! Understood!”

Tom dropped back into sleep. Gwen grabbed Tom and apologized, shaking him and saying she was sorry for waking him.

‘…She’s a menace, isn’t she?’

Galahad smiled slightly.

“What on earth have you made up your mind about?”

“I’m going to become a very strong mage.”

Gwen learning magic was good news. That was also why he had put her in the special task force.

However—.

“‘A very strong mage’ is quite an abstract goal. Goals are better when they’re concrete.”

“…Huh? Is that so?”

“First, try setting a precise goal.”

Gwen, blinking, suddenly pointed. Galahad furrowed his brow at the calloused finger pointing at him.

“You want to become me?”

“Yes! I want to become a powerful mage like you, Galahad!”

Gwen’s answer was resounding. Tom sprang up and then sat back down.

“That’s impossible.”

“Why!”

“It’s a difference in disposition. I prefer fast and efficient methods. Clean methods like blowing out brains or punching holes through hearts.”

“C-clean methods?”

Gwen’s eyes went wide.

“Your disposition is too gentle for that.”

“Th-thank you?”

“It’s not a compliment. It means you can’t become an efficient mage like me. Could you punch a hole through someone’s head?”

“Nooo!”

“I thought so. Someone soft-hearted like you would have to use massive magic to obliterate the opponent entirely so no form remains.”

“…Yeeees?! Obliterate?!”

Tom seemed to have given up on sleep, pulling over the leather beside him. He began stitching the leather with thick thread. It looked like he was making a coat.

“Keep in mind that to protect someone, you have to kill someone.”

Galahad spoke in a voice devoid of humor.

Tom nodded. The coat was taking shape.

Then, Demian woke up. Tom held out the meat he had set aside. Demian began eating again.

“…I know that too.”

Gwen bowed her head deeply. Galahad did not press her.

He subtly opened the window beside him. It was a hole for smoking, made at Tom’s suggestion. The cold dawn air, slightly moist, swirled in.

The scenery beyond was unchanged. Thin, dried-up trees and white snow between them—. Boring enough to die. Galahad grumbled softly.

“…Then! I’ll become a mage who only beats up bad people!”

“Beats up? You have a cruel streak contrary to your innocent looks.”

“Whaaat?! No—.”

“So you want to learn magic?”

“Yes!”

Gwen nodded with the face of a squire standing beside a knight.

“You have excellent talent as a mage. That massive mana pool and outstanding mana sensitivity could truly be called genius-level.”

“Hehe.”

Gwen scratched the back of her head and smiled shyly. She seemed weak to praise.

“Now, let’s start with something simple. This is just fire. A very simple spell belonging to the 1st tier. Follow along.”

Gwen’s eyes grew slightly hazy. Then, fire rose on her finger just like that.

‘Impressive.’

Galahad was genuinely impressed. It was not easy to copy something just by seeing it.

‘She really is a genius.’

Aside from the one in the Twilight Tower, she was the first genius Galahad had acknowledged.

“Now, next, focus on that fire. Try compressing the mana as if pressing down on it.”

“Compressing?”

“Think of pressing it down hard.”

Gwen’s eyes went wide. She focused so hard her fingers trembled, but amazingly, nothing happened.

“I don’t really get it?”

“Try thinking of pressing it down. There’s an invisible muscle; think of pulling on it.”

“I don’t have an invisible muscle so I don’t get it!”

“…If that really doesn’t work, try bending your finger first.”

Galahad, who loathed compressing with the body, had no choice since she couldn’t get the feel at all.

The problem was that even that didn’t help.

When you cast magic, you have no choice but to feel mana. Once you feel mana, most people quickly grasp the principle of compression.

To fail at something so basic—.

‘Ah.’

At her innocent eyes, Galahad sighed softly.

“There’s one problem.”

“A problem?”

“You’re stupid.”

“…What?”

“You’re stupid.”

“I know!”

Gwen nodded. Her acceptance was quick.

“So is there a problem?”

At the question of what was wrong with being stupid, Galahad shook his head. There was no particular problem.

“I see. You don’t need to pursue the truth of magic. Just watch my magic and copy it.”

“Ah! Yes! That’s a relief!”

Galahad lit the fire again. Fire rose on Gwen’s finger.

“This time, try it alone.”

Gwen looked down at her finger. She furrowed her brow as if concentrating, but unfortunately, there was no reaction.

“Didn’t you do it well alone against the demon?”

“I was in a hurry then—. I don’t really know now.”

He could guess the cause. The aversion to magic seated in her unconscious seemed to be the problem.

The way to overcome it was simple.

Repeated learning.

There was no problem that couldn’t be solved that way.

“Now, focus.”

Fire blazed on Galahad’s finger. Fire also settled on Gwen’s finger. Its size shrank. It shrank accordingly.

“Now, well done. Then again—.”

The fire lit. It shrank and grew. It went out.

“Well done this time too. Now, then again—.”

“Again—.”

“Again.”

Even after quite a few repetitions, Gwen did not complain and followed along well.

How many repetitions had it been?

By the time Tom finished the coat and Demian patted his belly and closed his eyes again—.

“Burn! Fire! It… it worked!! It worked!”

Fire blazed on Gwen’s finger.

‘It takes about forty repetitions to install it.’

Compared to the time it took to learn mana, memorize the principles and formulas of magic, analyze density, learn magic, and use it—.

‘Overwhelmingly fast.’

It was incomparably fast.

“Good.”

Gwen wore a subtle smile.

It was the face of someone born to gambling parents, tormented all their life by their parents’ gambling, who had just realized they possessed an innate talent for gambling.

“It’s fine. You can take after your parents’ side too.”

“…What?”

“Now, next is the 4th-tier spell, Explosive Fireball.”

“The last one was 1st tier! Isn’t that too big a jump?!”

“It’s fine. You can’t understand the principles anyway. It’s more beneficial to learn higher-tier magic instead.”

Gwen, pondering for a moment, nodded.

Gilbert looked at Demian, who had come up to the coachman’s seat.

The two rode in silence for a long while.

****

“The battalions on the Northern front each have their own base.”

Gilbert said, pointing ahead. There, soldiers were gathered in small groups warming themselves by fires. It looked like a checkpoint.

“Looks like a noble’s estate.”

“Yes, similar. Their authority will be stronger than a noble’s. It is the military, after all.”

“So that’s why the word ‘principality’ comes up.”

White snow was piled on his shoulders. To think it snowed this much even for the North—. Galahad muttered softly and brushed his shoulders.

“Halt!”

A soldier shouted, looking this way. They all drew their spears.

“The 5th Battalion captain is somewhat isolated among the captains.”

“Is he being ostracized?”

“Yes, his conduct was already different from the others, but recently rumors spread that he’s raising mages, and he’s being ostracized for that too.”

Then, the soldiers approached right up to them.

The spears the soldiers held had quite large tips. They looked like whaling harpoons.

“State your affiliation.”

The soldier thrust the spear toward Galahad as if it were a microphone.

“Special task force captain Galahad.”

The soldier furrowed his thick eyebrows.

“Special task force? Ever heard of it?”

“No, first time hearing of it.”

The soldiers’ conversation flowed in an unexpected direction.

“Show your identification tag.”

At the soldier’s question, Galahad looked at Gilbert. I’ve never received an identification tag or anything like that?

“Identification tags are made using monster bones, so production takes time.”

It wasn’t hard to understand. The capital was already a world where things were handled slowly. How much more so the North?

“First, show me your identification tag. Don’t you still have your 1st Battalion tag?”

“I don’t.”

“Why not? Weren’t you with the 1st Battalion until recently?”

“Because I’m not with the 1st Battalion.”

“You’re more honest than I thought. What were you going to do if you got stopped at a checkpoint?”

“The 1st Battalion doesn’t get stopped at checkpoints.”

“You’re not the 1st Battalion now, are you?”

“Identification tag!”

The soldier shouted. At that, Galahad clicked his tongue softly and rummaged through his inner pocket.

“Here, this is the Archduke’s appointment letter.”

Galahad took out the appointment letter. It was a document that had worked even at the captains’ meeting.

The problem was—.

“I can’t read!”

“Me neither!”

“Showing writing is suspicious!”

The soldiers were illiterate.

The atmosphere turned hostile in an instant. Because he had shown them writing. How on earth were identification tags read, anyway?

Gilbert grabbed the hilt of his sword.

“We could just beat them up reasonably and go in. Weren’t we promised a meeting with the captain anyway?”

Just as Gilbert proposed a Northern-style negotiation, the carriage door flew open.

“Ah, I made temporary identification tags just in case.”

Tom held out crude wooden tags. The soldiers checked them and let them through. They seemed to only check the pattern on the tag.

“Tom, you’re truly capable.”

“Haha, thank you for saying so.”

Tom smiled awkwardly and took back the wooden tags. At his humble appearance, Galahad stared at Gilbert.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“…Never mind.”

At Gilbert’s sullen question, Galahad subtly turned his gaze away.

The 5th Battalion base was larger than expected. A long wooden palisade of thick logs had been erected, with pointed wooden barricades placed here and there along the path between them.

The barricades were covered in rotting flesh of unknown origin. Snow was piled softly on top, giving it a certain charm.

The palisade was thicker and taller than it had looked from afar. It felt like a castle. There were even ballistae placed here and there.

As they entered, a damp smell greeted them.

‘It really is a military base.’

Galahad put a cigarette in his mouth. The lemon scent pushed away the damp smell.

“The unit is better than I thought.”

“That’s good?”

“Yes, the soldiers’ health is decent, and their armament is good. The 5th Battalion’s finances must be better than I thought.”

Hearing that, he looked around and saw it was subtly different from headquarters. The soldiers were clean. By Northern standards, of course.

Plus, there were quite a few people wearing Imperial attire. Among them were some who looked like merchants, and soldiers managing carts.

‘It feels like being at the border between the Empire and the North.’

In a sense, it was more active than headquarters. The smell of magic came from everywhere.

Then, a young woman greeted Galahad. She was someone he had seen at the meeting.

“I’m Rumian, the aide to 5th Battalion Captain Mark.”

The building the woman led Galahad to was a large building among the barracks. The security was strict.

Galahad habitually noted its structure and the arrangement of personnel. It was an occupational habit.

Knock knock knock.

“Come in.”

Rumian opened the door and stepped aside.

5th Battalion Captain Mark was a man with an air of fatigue about him. Seeing Galahad, Mark rose from his seat and held out his hand.

“You came earlier than I expected. Did you find something?”

After a brief greeting, Mark immediately raised the question.

“Why do you think that?”

“Adrianna is a principled person. She would probably finish only after inspecting every watchtower, but that would take too long. Unless you found something and caught them to close the case, you wouldn’t have come this quickly.”

He was a man whose mind turned faster than expected. Perhaps that was why he spoke quickly too.

“You’re right. On the way here, I caught one mid-rank demon, two mages, and sixteen mole-men. I was delayed because Adrianna came late.”

Mark narrowed his eyes for a moment. He seemed to be trying to grasp the truth.

“You have no reason to lie, so it must be true.”

Mark believed him surprisingly quickly.

“So that’s why the Archduke entrusted him with a unit. Hmm—.”

Mark tapped the table with his finger.

“Are you thinking of establishing a headquarters at my battalion’s base?”

The topic changed again.

“Since it’s centrally located between the 1st Battalion where Adrianna is and headquarters, it would be suitable location-wise. Isn’t that why you visited immediately? Of course, there’s some leap in logic—.”

Galahad readily nodded.

“I see. Giving up the location isn’t that difficult, but there are a few problems.”

Knock knock.

The door opened simultaneously with the knock. It was a figure in a robe. A man with a goatee.

He had no weapon. That meant he was not a soldier.

“Perfect timing. This is Corton, an external advisor to our unit.”

Mark greeted with the corner of his mouth raised.

The goateed man named Corton smiled a merchant-like smile and held out his hand.

“Pleased to meet you.”

Galahad grasped his hand and habitually let mana flow in.

‘His mana is considerable—.’

It was typical evidence of a Black Magic Society member. They had large amounts of mana because they would do anything to increase it.

“You could come back later if you have a guest.”

“No, this is Captain Galahad, the one you were curious about.”

Corton sat close to Mark.

‘This is getting interesting.’

The method of catching a black mage was not that difficult. Identify their residence, punch a hole through their head, and file a report—problem solved.

Galahad expected it to be resolved that way this time too.

But the case took a different turn.

“Corton is a very grateful person who has been improving the 5th Battalion’s poor conditions.”

Mark introduced the bald man, and his voice was quite warm.

‘So that’s the problem Mark mentioned.’

The two seemed to be on quite good terms.

Perhaps it was difficult to accept another mage because one was already established.

“Are you, by any chance, that Galahad?”

Corton said, his eyes going round. An unpleasant flush rose on his face.

‘That Galahad—.’

It was a title he hadn’t heard in a while.

“Yes, that Galahad.”

“That Galahad?”

“Ah, he’s famous among mages as the youngest valedictorian of the Imperial Academy.”

Corton said in a voice pressing down hard on his true feelings. Mark’s eyes widened slightly.

“He’s from the Academy?”

“Yes, actually I saw him at the Academy.”

“Is that so?”

The fellow’s reaction was slightly subtle. It felt somehow unpleasant.

“Yes, he entered when I was in my final year, and he graduated before me.”

“You were in your final year for four years?”

It had taken Galahad exactly three years from entrance to graduation at the Academy. That meant this fellow had been in his final year for at least four years.

At the fellow’s crumpled face, Galahad realized his guess was correct.

“Everyone usually takes about that long.”

The fellow’s eyes turned hostile.

‘An inferiority complex.’

It was a look Galahad was familiar with.

It was a gaze that had followed him ever since he entered the Academy as the youngest student.

Fellows with that kind of look always revealed something when you prodded them.

“I was only in my final year for half a year, so I wouldn’t know. Sorry.”

The fellow’s eyes narrowed. Galahad raised the corner of his mouth.

“Ah, did it take you longer than four years, by any chance?”

That seemed to be his reverse scale, and the fellow’s face turned bright red.

“I didn’t know you were such a famous person, Galahad. There must be a reason the Empire sent you.”

Mark chimed in with a strange look. Mark’s eyes seemed to be calculating something.

Who would be more beneficial to him—. He was a clever man.

When Mark praised him, the reaction burst out immediately.

“What does it matter when someone graduated? What matters is what they did after graduating. That Galahad hasn’t had any stories circulating since graduation. What on earth have you been doing?”

The fact that no stories circulated was evidence of how outstanding an agent Galahad was.

Praising him to his face—. Galahad scratched his cheek for no reason and answered.

“I’ve been busy with this and that.”

“Oh ho, busy, were you.”

Mark chimed in again. At that, Corton wore a sneer.

“Ah, I heard the news. You barely survived.”

Hearing the rumor that the third son of a count was sent to marry the Archduke’s eldest daughter, such a reaction was only natural.

They would think he was sent to die for a cause.

Originally, the Archduke had intended to put Galahad in the dungeons, so it wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Corton, what’s wrong with you?”

“Seeing an Academy classmate here, I’m just happy.”

At Mark’s mediation, the fellow grinned. Mark seemed to be playing the role of the sister-in-law holding him back.

“Seeing a classmate in this far-off North, I’m happy too.”

At Galahad’s meaningful answer, the fellow ground his teeth.

“Unlike you, I came here for business. Rather, the North is a land of opportunity for me.”

“Oh, business in the North, the barren land of magic—. Impressive.”

At Galahad’s voice, the fellow’s brow furrowed further.

“Ha! There are three magic stone mines I’ve recently discovered. You know their value too.”

He had only pressed very slightly, and the fellow, unable to overcome his inferiority complex, boasted.

He was someone who had even joined the Black Magic Society. Among mages, he was a twisted one, so such a violent reaction was not strange.

“It’s a business I’m doing with Captain Mark. It would be good if you joined too, but—. Aren’t you such a capable person? You couldn’t work under a loser like me. What a pity!”

The fellow wore a sneer.

‘A loser.’

It sounded like something he had said before. He had been quite sensitive during his Academy days.

“The youngest valedictorian of the Academy, the pride of the Academy, our splendid Galahad couldn’t possibly work under a loser like me. Isn’t that right?”

The fellow said that and held out his hand. He seemed certain Galahad would not accept the offer.

It was clear mockery.

His eyes met Mark’s. Those terribly calculating eyes seemed to ask. Which of the two would be more beneficial to him—.

Galahad grinned.

“Sounds good. This is what classmates are for.”

As he promptly grasped the hand, the fellow’s eyes grew as if they would tear.

Mark raised the corner of his mouth slightly, as if he had seen something interesting.

Corton belatedly tried to pull his hand away, but Galahad did not let go.

Three magic stone mines—. Even one was enough to earn as much as a lord of a decent castle. That was what a magic stone mine was.

It wasn’t simply a matter of money. With plenty of magic stones, teaching Gwen would become easier. If mana was lacking, she could just use magic stones.

On top of that, with magic stones, he could add various options when building the special task force headquarters.

In other words—.

“So, where should I report for work?”

It was a goldmine.

To give him three magic stone mines—.

Academic ties were that important.