EP.123 The Path to the North (1)
On a hot summer day.
“Thank you all for your hard work.”
There were some laughable mishaps, but… the students reach the end of the semester and celebrate. Some students leave Apuria with excited steps, while others return to their dorms to pack.
“Lac is going back home this time?”
“Seems likely. He has to show his achievements to the warriors, so I think he’ll go during vacation.”
Lac was one of them.
Of course, Lac isn’t packing his own things. The maids from the Central Academic Hall and the servants who arrived from the northern estate are tidying up Lac’s room. Lac merely sits in the lobby on the first floor, chatting with his fellow classmates.
Meanwhile, the servants go back and forth between the lobby and the stairs. The observing students murmur unconsciously.
“It’s surprising, but Lac is a noble…”
“Hmm?”
“Uh, it just feels a bit unfamiliar.”
Watching Lac being attended to by the servants somehow feels strangely distant. Classmates who have spent a semester getting close to him feel a newfound sensation.
‘Well, Lac is the son of the Duke of the North, after all…’
Prince Lac.
It feels like a forced match of words that is hard to connect. The students tilt their heads with a peculiar expression.
‘…He does look like a prince.’
Due to his barbaric thought process and warrior-like physique, it doesn’t quite connect… But if you just look at his appearance, Lac can be considered handsome. If he keeps his mouth shut, he looks like a robust young noble.
“Lac, can you try not saying anything for a moment?”
“…?”
“Just make a serious face once.”
Lac did as he was told.
“If you also comb your hair back like this…”
“Ooh…”
The students marvel inwardly.
Where has the muscle-bound barbarian gone? A sharp-featured handsome man has taken his place. With this unfamiliar sensation, the students unconsciously keep their distance. Lac tilts his head and opens his mouth.
“What’s the meaning of this? My jaw hurts. My eyes feel tense too.”
“Ah, this is what makes Lac, Lac.”
“What on earth are you talking about…?”
As they joke around, a servant managing Lac’s room speaks up.
“Lord Lac, the cleaning is nearly finished. Should I send this letter to the Master of the White Tower?”
“Ah, thank you for that.”
Nodding, Lac stands up.
“Well, see you next semester.”
“Yeah, take care, Lac.”
With his classmates seeing him off, Lac exits the dormitory.
Swallowing the blazing sunlight and hot air, he starts longing for the cool, homely land.
Time to return to the far northern land of his birth.
—
2.
In the northern land where the snowstorm roars.
There is a massive tower situated among the rugged snow-capped mountains. The people of the north referred to it as the Tower, as it blends seamlessly with the white snow.
A tower as white as pure snow.
Unlike the other towers concentrated near the capital, this one is located far in the north. It shares the beginning and history of the Grace family, the rulers of the north.
One of the five elemental towers.
The cradle of pure elements, the White Tower.
Standing on the top floor of the White Tower and looking down reveals the breathtaking landscape of the north. The vast expanse of the snowy plains. The sheer cliffs and snow mountain scenery evoke something heart-wrenching just by taking it in.
– Truly a scenic view.
– It’s like a picture.
Every time outsiders come to the tower, they exclaim in awe at the sight. Just witnessing it seems to clear a corner of one’s heart.
“Hmm.”
There lives a person who sees this view every day.
The woman residing at the highest point of the White Tower smiles while humming a tune. It is a far cry from the kind and dignified smile shown to the mages under her command.
The owner of the White Tower.
Selly Devela.
She spreads her arms with a mischievous childlike grin and lightly sweeps her finger across the communication circuit carved into the wall.
Zzzzzt!
What she touched was the communication circuit.
The destination of the communication is always the same.
– …What is it this time?
Before long, a voice echoes in the office. On the projected screen appears a fatigued-looking mage’s face.
Seeing that face, Selly smiles.
“Indeed, what could it be? Black.”
The Master of the Black Tower, Yetual.
Selly continues speaking to the mage appearing on the screen.
“Actually, isn’t the reason you’re communicating always decided in advance? Are you really asking because you don’t know?”
Her voice sounds playful.
Yetual frowns. With a look of annoyance, he brushes away the fatigue from his eyes and responds.
– If you’re going to boast about trivial things again, I’ll hang up right now. As if I’m busy enough, good grief…
It’s the same old black demeanor. Finding it amusing, Selly lets out a chuckle.
‘Seriously, he’s like an old man who can’t read the room.’
Selly rests her chin on her hand while looking at the screen.
Though she intended to tease him a bit, the expression on Yetual’s face genuinely seems ready to end the communication right away. She rushes to speak again, fearing he might actually hang up.
“…It’s not a trivial matter, I assure you?”
– Just get to the point. Simply.
“What do you mean, what? Lac made a move. Much faster than your disciple.”
Yetual’s eyes narrow.
They seem to ask what that means. Selly shrugs at his gaze.
“While your disciple has been sitting idle, our Lac sent that professor an invitation.”
– That professor, you mean Professor Rania?
“Is there any other professor I’d care about? Obviously, it’s Professor Rania.”
Rania van Trias.
A girl with extraordinary talent.
For now, she’s under that annoyingly perceptive ashen old man, so it’s tough to acquire her, but she must be secured someday.
‘And, the scales have already tilted towards the White Tower.’
Selly has been in a covert competition with Yetual over the girl since the beginning of the semester. From her perspective… Professor Rania expressing her intention to visit the north feels like the scales are finally tipping towards her.
“Hmm.”
Naturally, her shoulders tense up.
With a puffed-up chest, Selly continues.
“While you sat idle, I already did some groundwork through Lac.”
Although it’s a lie.
Lac acted on his own.
‘But who cares?’
Regardless of how it started, the situation is currently turning in her favor. Saying she expressed the intention to visit the north doesn’t just mean she’ll stay for a day or two.
‘At least ten days.’
And that ten days? It’s more than enough time to cook a young mage.
‘If I make an aggressive attempt to recruit her now… maybe I can pull it off during the vacation?’
Offer good conditions, negotiate, and somehow lure her to the White Tower. The meticulously crafted plan is nearing completion. All that remains is to monitor the girl’s reactions and adjust the details accordingly.
“Hmm.”
Selly smiles confidently.
“Does something begin to register with you?”
Raising the stakes, she crosses her legs mischievously.
“This is exactly the difference between you and me, isn’t it? The White Tower is superior to the Black Tower.”
However.
– …
The response is non-existent.
The black remains silent.
“What’s wrong? Why no words?”
Selly frowns.
‘Something feels off.’
Whenever she provoked him like this, Yetual typically replied with a flustered and irritated tone. He would often hurl insults about her age like they were nothing.
– …Hmm.
But what’s happening now?
The black mage gazes at her with a look of utter disappointment. His eyes show even a hint of pity. As if he were looking at a clueless rookie.
That’s not the reaction Selly expected at all. Not even close.
‘Has this old man lost it?’
Selly frowns and snaps.
“Why are your eyes so wide? Do you have some complaints? If you do, spit it out, you snake-like old man!”
– There’s nothing particularly to say…
Yetual clicks his tongue as if she’s lame.
– Just try your best, White.
“…What did you say?”
– It’s encouragement. I have many things to do, so I’ll take my leave now. I hope you have some good news.
Click.
The communication cut off.
“…?”
Selly blinks in confusion.
She couldn’t keep up with the situation at all.
“Did that old man really go nuts…?”
Only hollow questions linger in the air.
Despite not tilting the scales in her favor, the scales were utterly destroyed… something Selly couldn’t fathom.
—
3.
“It’s very cold in the north. Did you know that, Raniel?”
“Yes? Oh yes. Of course, I know.”
“Then I’m telling you to dress warmly. I can’t imagine you’d think of going to the north in such thin clothes. You can’t be that thoughtless…”
“Yes? I was just planning to go like this?”
“…I’m going to lose my mind.”
The Master rubs his forehead.
I tilt my head.
“Well… back when I was roaming battlefields, I rolled around in the snowy mountains half-naked, you know? I didn’t think much of it back then…”
“The battlefield is an extreme situation, Raniel. And now, you’re going as a ‘guest’ invited by the Duke of the North, not just going as you please, right?”
“Right?”
“Then dress appropriately. At least, avoid clothes that make others feel cold just by looking at you.”
…Is that so?
I tilted my head but picked up the clothes the Master handed me. Scarves, fur gloves, fur shoes, things rarely seen on the battlefield.
“Oh, this is luxury…”
“With the kind of money that could build five towers, you find this petty?”
Tsk, tsk, the Master clicked his tongue as he shoved the scarf into my robe, enhanced with extension magic. Then, with a light pat, he nudged my back.
“Take care and come back safely.”
“Yes, Master.”
I stepped lightly out of the estate.
After walking a bit, I noticed the carriage waiting in front of the estate, decorated with the northern emblem.
“I shall serve you.”
An elderly man who looked mature bent down to greet me. I internally gasped at the scale of the carriage sent by the Grace family.
‘Lac really does come from a prestigious family.’
…When I think about it, it makes sense.
Lac is the only son of the Duke of the North, Eryhal von Grace. As the sole heir, he naturally deserves such treatment.
‘Actually, it’s strange that Lac roamed around Apuria without a guard…’
But for some reason, the words Lac and noble, or prestigious family don’t match up. It feels like oil and water. I board the carriage with a perplexed expression.
‘Well, Lac is still Lac.’
As I stepped into the carriage with a thump, someone inside greeted me.
A man with his hair slicked back above his forehead. Dressed in an rolled-up shirt, he looked at me and slightly bowed his head.
“Um…”
I blinked my eyes and asked.
“…Who are you?”
“Excuse me? I’m Lac. Professor Rania.”
“What?”
“I’m Lac, from the Battle Magic Department.”
The man blinked, waving his hand at the servant. The servant sighed and placed a hand axe on the man’s hand. The man awkwardly held the hand axe in his somewhat awkward pose.
“Oh, it’s Lac.”
It was then I finally nodded.
“Why are you wearing something so odd?”
“Yeah, right. I feel uncomfortable too.”
Lac folded his arms as he spoke.
His well-built muscles seemed like they would tear through his shirt.
“But, since I’m supposed to accompany the professor… Sebas insisted I wear this.”
“It’s the basics, young master.”
“Then why did you take my axe away?”
“It’d be rude to flaunt an axe in front of a guest. And besides, she’s also a lady from a noble family…”
…Rude?
‘Is that all?’
I tilted my head.
“Lac.”
“Yes, Professor?”
“You threw axes at me before, didn’t you?”
The servant’s face went pale.
His eyes widened in shock as he turned to Lac. Lac pondered for a moment, then opened his mouth.
“Ah, are you talking about during that practical class?”
“Yep, that one.”
I nodded.
The servant was pale to the point of looking like a ghost.
