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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Cowardly Asel (2)
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"Wh-what... was that just now?"
Asel couldn't comprehend what had just happened to him. In an instant, the flow of mana had been severed, causing his spell to unravel. It felt like a tightly pulled string had suddenly snapped.
"Huh? The magic just now definitely..."
"I don't know."
Ronan shrugged. He wasn't pretending; he really didn't know.
He could sever mana. He'd realized this ability during his time in the penal legion. Back then, it had seemed like too much hassle, so he hadn't told anyone.
Ronan vaguely suspected that this power was why he alone had been able to inflict serious wounds on Ahayute. There might be another ability he wasn't aware of, but still.
'Unraveling the secrets of this ability must be one of the tasks given to me.'
Ronan patted Asel's shoulder.
"Come out here three days from now at night. Around the time the moon rises."
"Huh?"
"If you don't show... well, you know."
Ronan left those words behind and strode away. Asel shouted something from behind, but he ignored it. If the kid had any sense knocked into him, he'd come.
"Damn, I've wasted too much time."
Ronan headed to the riverbank first and washed the blood from his face and hands. He bought new clothes in the market, changed into them, and plucked a few daffodils blooming by the roadside.
Soon, he arrived at a small house on the outskirts of the village. Ivy grew thickly, covering the outer walls in a pleasing manner.
Ronan took an involuntary deep breath. A tension he hadn't felt even on the battlefield or before monsters washed over him.
Behind this door was Iril. His sister, whom he hadn't seen once since leaving home at seventeen—and who had ultimately lost her life to the giants' invasion.
"Ha... calm down..."
Ronan reached for the doorknob. He just needed to pull it, but it wasn't easy.
Suddenly, the bouquet in his left hand caught his eye. Ten yellow and white daffodils were beautifully arranged. They were Iril's favorite flowers.
He suddenly felt ridiculous. Damn, he wasn't some young buck confessing his love.
He turned to toss the daffodils away.
"Oh? Ronan!"
The door flew open, revealing a woman. She was a stunning beauty just transitioning from girlhood to young womanhood.
"You're home early today! Have you eaten?"
"Uh? Uh... yeah... no."
Ronan froze at her bright smile. Her wavy hair, reaching her shoulders, shimmered with a silvery blue like starlight. Her fair skin, unmarred even under the spring sun, evoked untouched snowfields.
"Perfect timing. I just started simmering some stew."
Sure enough, Iril wore an apron stained with various spots. Beaming, she spotted the daffodils in Ronan's hand and exclaimed.
"Ah! Those flowers?!"
"Uh, yeah...?"
"Are they for me? They're so pretty!"
"No... not exactly... but if you think they're pretty... glad to hear it."
Ronan handed over the daffodils and looked at his sister's face. Her clear, large eyes held the same sunset hue as his.
She buried her face in the blossoms like a child, overjoyed, then suddenly pulled Ronan into a tight hug.
"What's gotten into my prickly little brother? Thank you!"
In that moment, indescribable emotions swirled in Ronan's chest. His sister was exactly as he remembered. A sun-like presence that gave him strength just by being near, shining on everyone.
Suddenly, his vision blurred, and he rubbed his eyes with his sleeve.
"Tch, damn."
"Huh? Something in your eye? Let sis check. Come here."
"No, it's nothing."
"Don't be like that. Let me see."
With a height difference of a head, Iril had to stand on tiptoe. Ronan brushed off her hand with the excuse of being hungry and entered the house.
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"That was good. Delicious."
"Wow! What day is it today? Hearing 'delicious' from Ronan!"
Ronan neatly set down his spoon. The wooden bowl was scraped clean. The simple potato stew Iril had made tasted better than any delicacy he'd eaten before his regression.
"Sis. How old am I?"
"Huh? Um... well... I'm nineteen this year, so you're fourteen, right? Why the sudden question?"
She was a year younger than expected. Since he'd left the village at seventeen, that meant about ten years until the giants descended.
"No reason. Just couldn't remember."
"What! There's something else to forget! You're not sick, are you? Did you eat some bad mushrooms in the forest or...?"
"No."
Iril groaned worriedly, touching her forehead and Ronan's alternately. Bringing her favorite flowers out of nowhere, and today's brother was acting strange. He'd always been prickly, as if even breathing was a chore.
"Hey, sis."
"Hm?"
Ronan said as he ladled another serving of stew. This made three bowls.
"I'm going to attend the academy."
"Huh?"
Iril stared at Ronan in bewilderment. It was so sudden that she momentarily forgot what he'd said.
What did he say? Lost a sheep again? No, something about the academy... academy...
She practically jumped up and shouted.
"Whaaat? You're going to attend the academy?!"
"You scared me."
"Say it again, Ronan. You're going to the academy? Really? Really? Really?"
"Yeah."
"Kyaaah!"
Iril let out a joyful squeal and hugged her brother's neck. Her lifelong wish was coming true. Kisses rained on Ronan's cheeks three times a second.
"I always knew this day would come! I believed in you! You have talent, so you'll excel at anything!"
"Thanks."
"Which one? The knight academy, right? Knight Ronan! So cool! Or surprisingly, a regular national academy? Becoming a scholar's great too! Whatever it is, sis supports you! Oh, look at me!"
Iril regained her senses only when Ronan finished his fourth bowl. She suddenly rummaged through a jar by the fireplace.
She emerged with a heavy pouch in hand.
"Here! Take it, Ronan! It's all yours now!"
Clinking metal sounds came from the sealed pouch. Ronan knew it held most of the money his sister had saved up over the years.
Panting as she placed the pouch on the table, Iril's eyes sparkled. Hurry and open it, she meant.
But Ronan shook his head.
"No need. You use it, sis."
"What? But this is for you..."
"Tuition, right? Thanks, but I'll just take your feelings. The place I'm aiming for, this won't even cover it."
"Which place are you thinking of? I've saved up quite a bit, you know?"
Her pale cheeks puffed cutely. Ronan returned the pouch to the jar and spoke.
"Imperial Phileon Academy."
Iril's already large eyes widened further.
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[If you seek knowledge, go to Phileon.]
Those were Adeshan's parting words. The Imperial Phileon Academy, or Phileon for short.
This premier institution in the capital, second only to the imperial palace in prestige, boasted excellent professors recruited from across the continent and vast imperial funding. It wasn't just a prestigious academy; it was a factory producing great figures.
Even Ronan, who had no ties to academics, knew the value of graduating from Phileon.
"Sure enough... Phileon produced a lot of useful people."
Musing on his memories, Ronan nodded in agreement. Grand General Adeshan, Sword Saint Schlieffen, and even the empire's worst criminal, the Winter Witch—all Phileon graduates.
Ten years left.
Considering the mission etched on his back, it wasn't a long time. Though thrust upon him unexpectedly, he had no intention of shirking it.
He recalled the final moments. Hundreds of giants tearing through the sky as they descended. He had no idea how strong he needed to become to face them.
So, following Adeshan's advice, Ronan decided to enroll in Phileon Academy. He judged that while he might not learn how much stronger to get, he could learn how to grow. Plus, attending an academy had been his dream.
"Was it really that surprising?"
Iril's expression still lingered in his mind. She wouldn't have been more shocked if he'd declared he'd become emperor. She'd blessed his future, but didn't seem to think he could get into Phileon.
Ronan wanted to make his reunited sister happy. So on the third day after his regression, before dawn, he left home, climbed the hill with two child-sized backpacks on his back.
"Oh."
Soon, he spotted a boy in a light robe dozing against an oak tree. Ronan clapped three times, startling the boy awake.
"You came on time, Marcel. Honestly, surprising."
"Ah! Y-yeah... it's Asel."
"A guy's gotta be tough. So, why'd I call you here?"
"Uh... um... interested in... my ability?"
"As expected of a mage; smart head on you. Here."
"Huh? Wha?!"
Ronan tossed one backpack to Asel. It looked bulky but was lighter than expected.
"Wh-what is this?"
"A bag for dreams and hopes."
Asel peeked inside. It contained a dozen thick and thin pouches. He couldn't guess their purpose.
"Can I ask... how this relates to my ability?"
"Follow me first. Raft's ready."
"Raft?"
Asel shouldered the backpack and followed Ronan. Sure enough, a raft he'd never seen was tied to the riverbank with rope.
It looked shabby, more suited for submersion than sailing. Asel scanned around with fiery eyes, but it was the only one.
"Get on."
When Ronan pointed with his thumb, Asel felt like crying.
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The raft glided down the current. A full moon illuminated the river and the two boys. Asel huddled next to his backpack, staring at the calm water.
"Too bad I didn't bring fishing rods. Grilled carp here is killer."
Ronan exhaled white smoke as he spoke. A slender pipe was between his thumb and index finger.
"Y-yeah. Totally."
"Stop stuttering. Think I'm gonna chop you up and toss you in?"
"O-okay. I won't."
"Stuttering again. Wanna die?"
Hans's knife hung at Ronan's waist. Asel swallowed hard. He knew Ronan had severed Hans's ear with a shepherd's stick.
"Sorry. Really won't."
"Good man, you can do it. Straighten your shoulders. That's why you're not growing—with all that cowering."
"Yeah. Where are we going?"
"A good place. Hone combat sense, make money."
Asel tilted his head. He couldn't make sense of it.
"Money? What money?"
"Tuition. Oh, didn't I say? You're going to the academy too."
"Academy?"
"Yeah, with me. If my memory's right, this haul covers first semester fees easy."