EP.120 Be Careful as the End Approaches (2)
Time flows quickly.
Suddenly, I thought about that.
Raniel sits by the café window, checking the academic schedule and counting the number of remaining classes with her fingers. As she does so, the thought of how fast time flies comes to her mind.
When she looks outside, she sees students passing through the plaza. Rather than neat and tidy, they appear carefree, wearing slightly disheveled uniforms while wandering around Apuria… It really makes her think a lot.
‘Six months.’
It’s already been six months since she began living as Rania. Half a year of life as a completely different person. Reflecting on the past six months, Raniel mumbles.
“Time has really flown by.”
For someone, half a year might be a short time.
But for the Ashen Mage, who lived each day in second-by-second increments… half a year is by no means a short time.
However, what about now, living as a professor?
‘It felt short.’
Half a year seemed like a brief period. When she recalls the past, it certainly feels like time has passed quickly.
“······.”
Raniel briefly sets her pen down.
She exhales lightly and stretches.
‘The reason time feels like it’s flowing quickly.’
It’s not hard to guess.
Looking back on her past life, the answer comes to her almost immediately.
‘Because I’ve been living more leisurely than ever before.’
Reducing sleep to conduct research, managing finances at the tower, and being busy without a moment’s break during her time as the next Master of the Tower.
Not to mention her time as a Wise One, where she had no proper rest, constantly pushing herself to the front lines.
Considering those two periods… living as a professor in Apuria feels extremely laid-back. There are no notable ups and downs. While there are incidents occasionally, they pale in comparison to her time as a Wise One.
A life without major tumbles is steady.
It’s so stable that it seems to pass in the blink of an eye.
Before she knows it, she’ll be muttering things like, “Oh, it’s already summer, it’s winter, a whole year has gone by…”
‘That can’t happen.’
Raniel shakes her head.
Time is precious and limited.
Efficiently utilizing limited resources is the hallmark of a mage. With a deliberately serious expression, Raniel fiddles with her coffee cup.
“Summer.”
Half of the year.
“End of the semester.”
The end of one academic term.
Facing it head-on, Raniel recalls the past classes, imagining the students’ experiences while living in Apuria.
And then she suddenly lets it slip out.
“Isn’t it all a bit bland?”
It was a small mutter.
However, there were people nearby who heard. The eyes of several students sitting in the café widen. Their heads whip around, and their gazes pour towards Raniel.
“Hmph.”
She seems to be unconcerned. Raniel smooths her lips and starts scribbling something on a blank sheet of paper.
“Summer semester”
“Extra assignments”
“Supplementary classes”
Things written in a slanted handwriting.
Each one would send students into a panic.
‘That’s not it.’
But she wasn’t satisfied.
Raniel draws lines through the letters and writes down new ones.
“Something to liven up the end of the semester.”
Having jotted down a topic, she contemplates for a while.
Raniel doesn’t like spending time meaninglessly. Meaningful time. Significant events that will stand out when she looks back on the past.
There should be at least one such occurrence.
“Ah.”
Snap, Raniel claps her hands.
Then she begins to write something on the paper. After a moment, she nods at the completed plan.
“This should do.”
It was quite a gratifying plan.
All that remains is to get approval. With the plan in hand, Raniel stands up, humming a tune as she steps out of the café.
Squeak, Bang.
So, the café door closes.
For a moment, the students, who had been holding their breath, begin to raise their heads one by one. Their gazes turn towards the spot where the nightmare of Apuria had just occupied.
The place where the sunlight gleams the brightest.
Seated there, feeling the warm sunlight while looking out the window, Professor Rania’s appearance becomes a picture in itself. Contrary to her dirty personality, her looks are quite remarkable.
The sunlight shines on her ashen hair.
Her profile, resting her chin in thought.
Every time she blinks, her eyes subtly reflect a gentle hue of blue through her eyelashes.
It’s an appearance that keeps drawing attention.
A few students glance at her, contemplating.
‘She is pretty. She is indeed pretty, but…’
But that’s where it stops.
“What did you just say?”
Beauty is volatile. One may be captivated for a moment… but once it vanishes from sight, what remains is something else.
“That wasn’t just me, right?”
“…I heard it too.”
Only one phrase lingers in the minds of the students.
“Wasn’t that a bit bland?”
…Bland?
What on earth is bland?
“Don’t tell me the lack of assignments last week…”
“No way, right?”
“Don’t say such ominous things.”
Amidst someone’s speculation, the students joke and lightly hit his shoulder, trying to brush off the ominous comments.
“······.”
But soon, silence takes over.
In this deep lull, the students remember.
The terror they experienced over the past six months.
The nightmares that visited them every night.
The sleepless nights.
And as they think about who Professor Rania is… it’s not impossible to encounter that prospect. In fact, the likelihood of it happening is fairly high. No, the more they think about it, the more they feel it’s entirely possible.
“······.”
Silence thickens.
Unable to bear it any longer, someone cracks a forced smile and speaks up.
“Hey, come on, surely not.”
“Right? I mean, it’s the end of the semester after all.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
Everyone adds a line.
Sure, there should still be some boundaries.
“Right? Professor Rania is human too. No matter what, if she has feelings…”
The student trailing off, their words hang in the air.
After a brief silence, he speaks up, the question slipping out.
“…Does she?”
No one can answer that question.
Only a chilling silence surrounds the students.
…It was a certain summer day.
2.
In the Royal Guard’s private office.
Kalt lets out a long sigh while looking at a letter that has arrived for him. It was a letter from the Knights Order Leader, Heinkel.
“…I feel like my workload just increased again.”
It seems lately that work never ceases. Events, both big and small, continue to erupt. Kalt leans back in his chair, placing the letter on the table.
The movements of the superhumans.
That’s what Heinkel’s message contained.
‘Superhuman.’
Reciting the word in his mind, Kalt closes his eyes.
Closing his eyes brings back memories from not long ago. The moment he felt death creeping up his throat. That experience keeps flashing before his eyes.
The Sword Master.
Kun-Tel.
His former mentor and benefactor, who had been transformed into the apostate’s minion. The blade technique he wielded keeps swirling in his mind.
It was a sharp blade.
A beautiful blade.
Unadorned and flawless.
Rusty and broken sword. A twisted arm. Even with one arm missing, Kun-Tel wielded his sword. The trajectory painted by that sword remained unwavering.
The blade tip is calm.
Once that blade swings, something gets severed.
Swing, slice. That simple process continues to repeat infinitely. The only thing Kalt could do in that space was to shift the target to prevent his own throat from being the one getting cut.
‘I was almost dead.’
That’s no exaggeration.
Death had really come very close.
If Kun-Tel’s body had been even a little intact, if the Ashen Mage had been even a moment late in defeating the apostate, if he had blinked just once more…
He would have certainly died.
“······.”
Kalt quietly touches around his eyes.
The scar cutting under his chin pricks at him unexpectedly.
‘Just surviving is a miracle.’
It was a result of one coincidence after another.
Amidst those coincidences, Kalt sensed it.
‘Wall.’
He remembered hearing it once before.
‘Each person has their predetermined limit.’
Every person has a set limit.
Depending on the extent of their talent, it may lie at different points. However, a limit definitely exists. Practitioners of the sword expressed this limit as a wall.
‘A wall that cannot be surpassed by ordinary means.’
A wall that cannot be surpassed with simple effort.
Those who transcend that wall become the Sword Masters. Those who break their own limits are called superhumans.
‘If I could pass the wall…’
Kalt opens his eyes.
Looking at his own hands, he wonders.
‘Maybe I could stand beside them again.’
He suddenly thinks that way. However, Kalt promptly shakes his head.
“It would be difficult.”
It’s a wall he couldn’t bypass even on the battlefield.
For now, he could only gauge the wall’s size, but the thought of crossing it didn’t arise.
“Sigh.”
There’s much to do.
It’s probably best to keep such thoughts moderate. Kalt exhales briefly and lifts the letter.
‘Draka’s activity report.’
It was a matter that required caution. Kalt squints his eyes to scan the contents written in the letter.
Sword Demon, Draka.
A person who became a superhuman through madness and obsession.
His skills are exceptional, but he is also someone to be watched closely because he stops at nothing.
‘An uncontrollable superhuman.’
Thus, must be approached with care.
Kalt quickly scans the report.
‘…After passing through, currently remaining in the North.’
Relieved at seeing his current location, Kalt felt a sense of relief.
In fact, there was only one aspect Kalt needed to pay attention to when it came to tracking Draka’s whereabouts.
‘…Thankfully, I shouldn’t run into the senior.’
The Ashen Mage Raniel.
What if their paths crossed? No matter what happens, he must separate them at all costs.
‘Those two, their compatibility is the worst.’
Kalt vividly remembers the scenario that unfolded when Draka and Raniel met on the battlefield.
– What did you say?
– I replied that it was the best way. Was my answer wrong, Ashen Mage? This side would have better efficiency?
– Are you from the Deloheim Church? Why the hell do you sound like that evil woman, Sara? Shut your mouth!
– Don’t throw a tantrum like a kid, Ashen. If you won’t do it, I will. This is the most efficient method.
– Hey.
– I warned you.
– I want the sea. You ignorant brat doesn’t know your place.
An imminent explosive situation.
– I clearly warned you.
– I want the sea. You little brat is oblivious.
The internal division that rose before the apostate.
“Ugh.”
Just thinking about it is horrifying.
Kalt trembles and folds the letter. In any case, it seems both of them won’t cross paths.
Draka is far away in the North.
And the Ashen Mage is here in the Royal Capital.
‘No chance they’ll meet.’
The probability of them crossing paths is close to zero.
‘Nothing unusual.’
Kalt jots down a quick response.
3.
“Raniel, you’ve got mail.”
“Yes? A letter?”
Is there someone to send one to me?
I tilted my head in confusion.
“Who is it from?”
“Well, the material of the letter is unique. And this symbol seems familiar…”
After a brief pause, my Master speaks.
“Ah, it’s the emblem of the Grace family.”
“Grace? Is it Lac’s family?”
“Yes. It seems to be a letter from the North.”
I took the letter, opened it, and inspected its contents.
“It’s an invitation?”
“An invitation?”
“Yes, it seems Lac has recommended me? It looks like they want to invite and host me.”
This was a good opportunity.
I nodded in agreement.
“This is perfect.”
“Perfect? What do you mean?”
“Well, I was planning to drop by the North anyway.”
Since I’d be going up North, wouldn’t it be nice to check it out while I’m at it?
‘Is everything turning out well.’
I can just go on this journey light-heartedly. I neatly folded the invitation and placed it in the pocket of my robe.
