Shirone's Resolve
Shirone stayed with the Ozent family until the day Rian left for the swordsmanship academy.
Whether Shirone would pass the special exception was uncertain, but even if he did, enrollment wouldn't begin until next year—leaving him six more months with his parents.
Days passed, and an ornate carriage waited at the main gate, ready to take the family to the royal capital.
Rae was already aboard, while Clump would join them later after meeting Alpheas.
Rian, unable to bear parting with Shirone, stood by the carriage with glistening eyes.
Neither magic nor swordsmanship academies had fixed terms.
Without passing graduation exams, one could remain for years—so there was no telling when they'd meet again.
Rian gripped Shirone's shoulders.
"Shirone, you have to become a mage! I'll write to you!"
"I will. It's not like we'll never see each other again—you can visit sometimes. Stop crying."
"You'll definitely graduate! I guarantee it!"
Reina smacked her brother's head.
"Worry about graduating yourself! You're the one I'm concerned about!"
"Ow! I'll work hard! I'll become the greatest knight—Shirone's sword!"
Shirone didn't doubt him. Rian would succeed.
He lacked Rae's genius, but he possessed countless things Rae did not.
Reina smiled at Shirone.
"Shirone, don't worry. Enjoy your time with your family. Grandfather will get you into the academy—he doesn't make empty promises."
"Yes. And… thank you for everything."
Shirone meant it.
Even as Rian's friend, without Reina's help, things wouldn't have turned out so well.
Reina studied Shirone intently.
'What an unusual boy.'
At first, he was just her brother's four-years-younger friend. But after this, her perception had changed.
Though his body hadn't fully matured, his spirit was worthy of respect.
Most importantly—Shirone held her in high regard.
"Shirone, actually…"
She stopped, laughing at her own absurd thought.
'He's only sixteen. His future is limitless.'
If he entered the magic academy, he'd meet far more people than before—and his eyes would surely change.
"Never mind. Let's both do our best. I believe you'll become a mage."
"Yes. Please take care of Rian."
"Don't worry. He swore a knight's oath—he'll work hard even without my nagging."
With a final wave, Reina boarded the carriage.
As the horses charged forward, Rian leaned out the window.
"Shirone! You're the best! Crush everyone at the magic academy!"
Shirone waved back.
"You too! Graduate no matter what!"
And so, his year-and-a-half as a servant came to an end.
"Hah…"
Now that it was over, an unexpected loneliness washed over him—like leaving home.
The once-intimidating Ozent estate now felt like an honor, its gates wishing him well.
"Young master, let's go. I'll escort you home."
Seeing the waiting carriage, Shirone finally felt it.
He was truly going home.
Bowing to the Ozent mansion one last time, he whispered:
"Thank you."
At noon, during classes, two old men sat across from each other in the headmaster's office, sipping tea.
One was a large, blue-haired man; the other, a gentle-smiling man gazing out the window.
Fifty-year friends—Mirhi Alpheas and Ozent Clump.
Their conversation had stalled thirty minutes ago.
Or rather, Clump was waiting for Alpheas' answer.
No matter how long it took.
Since it was Alpheas' turn to speak, Clump remained silent.
"Even for you, I can't grant such a request."
The answer, after thirty minutes, was underwhelming—but Clump grinned.
Though Alpheas had dragged it out like a difficult decision, he'd likely made up his mind instantly.
The Alpheas Clump knew was just that kind of trickster.
"'Even for me'? Do you know how much I suffered because of you when we were young?"
"Hah! To hear you of all people play the victim—you must be desperate. But the special exception wasn't made to cater to nobles. Countless petitions come yearly, yet even it has its conditions."
"Heh. Funny. 'Cater to nobles.' But this time's different."
Alpheas grew uneasy.
The mischievous glint in Clump's usually blunt eyes suggested this was no ordinary matter.
"…What is it?"
"I'm not asking you to take in some brat. Quite the opposite. My youngest grandson's friend—a remarkable talent. Reminds me of you in our youth."
Alpheas' gaze softened at the decades-old memory.
Had so much time really passed?
"The reckless, stubborn Rian? Just like you back then."
"Kukuku, I dumped him in a swordsmanship school because he had no talent. Anyway, forget about that fool—what I'm here to discuss is Rian's friend."
"If he's that gifted, why not enroll him formally? The fact that you've come this far suggests there's an issue, wouldn't you agree?"
"A major issue. He's not a noble."
Alpheas's brow furrowed slightly—not because the boy lacked noble blood, but because a fleeting yet vivid memory from four years ago flashed through his mind.
"Don't tell me… a blond boy with blue eyes?"
This time, Clump was startled. As always, this friend of mine knows how to play people like a fiddle.
"They say foresight comes with mastery of magic. Is that it?"
"Nothing so grand. We crossed paths briefly. Though, I suppose he did leave an impression."
Talents like Shirone's weren't unheard of, but discovering one was rare even for the magic school. And if the boy was a commoner, Alpheas could swear there'd be no other like him in all of Creas City.
"So that's what happened."
Alpheas summarized his encounter with the twelve-year-old Shirone. In turn, Clump shared how the boy had later been taken in by the Ozent family.
"Hmm. Arian Shirone…"
Alpheas fell silent again, but now it was deliberate contemplation.
Clump pressed on. "Why not accept him? This might be fate."
"Fate is just wordplay. Humans carve their own futures. If you label everything 'fate,' what isn't destined?"
Another dead end. Clump clicked his tongue. Part of him ached—he understood his friend's struggle to forgive himself despite recognizing Shirone's talent.
"Do you… still blame yourself?"
Alpheas said nothing.
"You defied noble politics to keep the 'special admissions' open because of regrets from your youth. But you've done enough. Countless talents have flourished under you. It's time to forgive yourself."
"Hahaha. Calling it 'forgiveness' is arrogance. I'm the fool who threw a divine gift into the trash. I don't seek absolution—I just don't want another life wasted like mine."
Clump sighed. Though Alpheas was now a 4th-class mage and headmaster of a prestigious school, he should've been so much more. A genius. If not for that day…
"Kukuku. Well, even I thought you were insufferable back then. 'The Light of the Mirrh Family'—a once-in-a-century genius reduced to an old headmaster. How life humbles us."
Age seemed to cradle pain like a child, for Alpheas only smiled at the venomous jab.
"Kekeke! Meanwhile, you had heaven's favor. A talentless fool now a 3rd-class swordsmaster—I fear for the Torhmia Kingdom's future."
The two roared with laughter. In the battle between talent and effort, Clump had triumphed. Alpheas admired him for it.
"Old age brings clarity: 'genius' is just human delusion. It's about finding joy in the pursuit. Could that boy… truly comfort me?"
"You'd know better, wouldn't you?"
Smiling, Alpheas walked to the window.
Is this destiny? A talent once barred by class now stood before him after four years. He'd always believed fate was a myth—that humans shaped their own paths.
Yet a shudder ran through him.
Could this… truly be fate?
"I'll enroll Shirone."