Chapter 73

"Remember… what?"

Julien blinked in confusion, but broke into an easy smile almost immediately.

"Oh, yeah! Of course! I'll remember everything—the training, the excitement, all of it. When else am I ever going to get an experience like this!"

Mikhail smiled back at him. Then he moved his hand and signed at the bottom of the tablet.

RRRUMBLE….

The training hall responded to the inputs.

The walls shifted and expanded the space, and three shoulder-height blocks rose from the flat floor.

Mikhail caught the scoring device that floated toward him and hung it around his neck, then turned to Julien.

"Rules are simple. Land effective hits on your opponent and destroy their scoring device first. That's a win."

Julien nodded. Mikhail pushed off from the wall and took his position across from him.

Roughly fifteen paces separated the two of them.

Mikhail watched Julien rolling his shoulders to loosen up and spoke.

"Julien. Don't hold back."

Julien flinched for an instant, but answered with his usual smile.

"Oh, r-right. Sure thing."

Julien didn't seem to have taken the warning to heart, but Mikhail didn't press the point.

He shifted his gaze from straight ahead and swept his surroundings.

As things stood, his mana couldn't come close to matching Julien's in either power or output.

A head-on clash was unwinnable. But—

There are ways to flip it.

He knew the environment and his opponent better than anyone.

CRASH!

A thunderous impact shattered the lower section of cover. Julien bit his lip and jerked his head aside to dodge the scattering debris.

That made three times now. Three chances to destroy Mikhail's scoring device, all slipped through his fingers.

Tap-tap.

Light footsteps echoed through the hall. Julien furrowed his brow, clicked his tongue, and snapped his eyes forward.

Mikhail stood across the gap he'd already opened up wide, watching from a comfortable distance.

"……."

His expression wasn't just calm—it was utterly relaxed. Impossible to believe he'd just scraped past danger by a hair's breadth.

Julien hissed a frustrated breath through his teeth.

At the same time, he rapidly replayed Mikhail's movements from the previous exchanges.

The first time, he used the cover to trick my eyes while repositioning, then exploited an amplification enchantment that appeared at just the right moment to dodge my attack. The second, he deliberately showed fake wind-ups and off-beat casting timings to bait an opening. And the third…

Julien glanced at the stone fragments littering the floor.

The shrapnel that had burst upward when Mikhail's attack shattered them—those pieces had been part of a cover block just minutes ago.

The shards he'd been forced to dodge were cut at angles far sharper than ordinary rubble.

Right before my attack could connect, he used the fragments that would break the sharpest to scatter my focus…

Julien swallowed a deep breath and shifted his gaze back to Mikhail.

He'd gone in assuming a first session only called for a casual feel-out round.

Somewhere along the way, the initiative had slipped entirely from his grasp. Meanwhile, Mikhail looked like he had all the time in the world.

But tipping the scales back isn't hard.

Julien eyed Mikhail hovering at a safe distance, showing no intention of closing in, and swallowed.

Across all three clashes, Mikhail hadn't tried to meet him head-on even once.

He'd simply circled, waiting for Julien's carelessness or an opening to exploit. Which meant—

He's avoiding a direct fight. That's the weakness.

Pzzt!

Julien called vivid mana to both hands.

The mana above his palms manifested into spheres far larger than before and continued to swell.

That moment near the end of the last mission—when he'd felt the wind attribute settle into his mana alongside a rush of crisp, clear energy…

Julien activated that attribute and layered the property of dispersion onto his mana.

Because I'm confident in a head-on fight.

PZZZZT!

His mana flared brilliant white for an instant, then shifted into a rolling mist and poured outward in every direction.

It crushed the remaining cover into crumpled wreckage and flooded the air with a pale blue haze.

Julien let the transformed space settle behind him and pulled at the corner of his mouth.

Every environmental advantage you've been using… I'm going to tear it all down and force a direct confrontation.

He held the expanded mana field and charged forward.

He couldn't sustain this level of control for long—he had to finish this fast.

Tap-tap.

Mikhail backpedaled in quick, stuttering steps. The moment the gap shrank dangerously, his face twisted into a grimace and he thrust his hand forward.

CRACK-CRACK!

A wall of deep blue crystals erupted in front of Mikhail, climbing to the height of a grown man.

But Julien didn't slow down. In one swift motion he clenched his fist, reeled in the mana he'd spread wide, and fired the gathered mass straight ahead.

BOOM!

The deep blue wall shattered on contact with the pale sphere and collapsed. Fragments rained down in a cascade.

But there was no one standing behind it.

Julien bit down on his lip and responded instantly. He swept his surroundings with a measured gaze.

A clue to predict his opponent's next move—there. He found it.

The wall Mikhail had been standing against. Irregular footholds jutted from its surface, climbing upward in a line.

He kicked off and launched himself up to gain distance. In that case—!

Julien spun and swung his arm behind him. A pale blue mana sphere coalesced at his outstretched fingertips.

Pzzt!

But… something was wrong.

Even at the moment he'd predicted the landing, Mikhail was nowhere to be seen. There was nothing ahead of him but empty air.

…What?

Something had gone wrong. Julien's eyes flew wide and he choked down a sharp breath.

"Julien."

A voice came from in front of him. Every hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he whipped his head around.

Clatter.

Mikhail was rising from beneath a pile of debris, smiling.

"You should've kept your eye on the objective. Don't you think?"

…Damn it.

The instant mortification locked Julien's face rigid, light flashed from Mikhail's outstretched fingertips.

CRACK!

A sharp burst of impact, and his body flew backward. A heavy thud slammed into his back.

"Kghh."

Julien choked out a ragged breath and slid down the wall.

Between two fits of dry coughing, the shattered scoring device clattered off him and hit the floor.

"……."

Julien steadied his breathing piece by piece. His rattled mind gradually settled back into the present.

What filled his vision was the sight that told the story's ending.

His broken scoring device lay on the ground, pulsing with a faint green glow.

"……."

Julien bit down hard on his lip.

His chest seized and burned. The pounding of his heart flooded his ears until it drowned out everything else.

What-ifs. Regret over choices he'd made seconds too late. Raw frustration at the outcome staring him in the face.

Emotions and thoughts surged up without warning, tangling and churning at the center of his chest.

He had never felt anything like this before.

Thud.

Then steady footsteps cut through the noise and stopped just short of where he sat.

Julien's clenched fist trembled as he lifted his head.

A pair of deep blue eyes gazed down at him in silence.

Julien let out a breath that was half laugh, half grimace, and pushed himself to his feet on one knee.

Pieces of the shattered device clattered to the floor around him.

He wiped the sticky residue from the corner of his mouth and twisted his lips into something sharp as he faced his opponent.

"—That was fun. Mikhail, let's go again."

---

Meanwhile, at that very same hour.

Inside the family head's study in the northern stronghold.

"……."

The northern sun rose late and set early.

The clock's hour hand still sat on the right side of the dial, but orange sunset light was already sliding down the glass windows and pooling across the long table.

Clink.

Joseph, seated at the head, picked up his glass.

The white-haired head butler standing beside him had served at his side for close to thirty years. There was no one better suited to a conversation held without words.

The butler poured wine into Joseph's empty glass.

Glug, glug.

Once the glass was nearly full, the butler set the bottle aside and turned his head toward the window.

His weathered, creased eyes studied the sky. Then, gently, the corners curved into a soft arc.

"The blizzard seems content to rest tonight. Everyone should sleep without worry. Lord Joseph."

Joseph nodded and raised the glass to his lips.

In the silence that settled between them, the glass tilted. The wine inside the clear vessel disappeared little by little.

Clink.

Before long, Joseph set the emptied glass down on his left.

A smile spread across the butler's face as he watched.

"My, draining it all like that. The young master's gift must please you greatly."

The butler refilled the glass as before. The wine was emptied once more.

Tap.

Joseph set the empty glass down on his right.

The butler noted its placement and did not pour again.

Instead, he moved closer to Joseph's side. His tone shifted in an instant, and he bowed his head low.

"A report for the head of house. Following notice of your absence from the Grand Noble Council, a reply has arrived from the capital."

Joseph remained seated, only his eyelids closing and opening in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

The butler continued in his characteristically measured voice.

"Led by the Cloelle house at the center, all the kingdom's families expressed some concern over the continued absences, yet conveyed their understanding, given that the North's circumstances are exceptionally dangerous. However… the Leventia of the South reportedly expressed somewhat deeper displeasure."

A contemplative silence settled over the room.

Joseph lowered his eyelids slowly and let a faint sigh slip between his lips.

But he soon gave a nod and turned his eyes toward the butler.

For one brief moment, their gazes met.

"……."

The butler immediately lowered his eyes and offered Joseph a deep bow.

He withdrew a step or two, then made his way toward the dining hall's exit.

Click.

Before long, Joseph sat alone in the room.

With the soft glow of the fading sunset beside him, he gazed at the empty glass for a time, then slowly raised his hand.

Tszzzt.

Joseph traced a line through the air. A faint crackle of static accompanied the appearance of a space unlike the one around him.

Atop a plane rippling with violet energy sat an ebony box, its surface engraved with the northern crest in deep blue dye.

Joseph reached out, lifted the box, and opened it.

Click.

Resting on a cushion of plum-colored velvet was a single branch.

…A life that had grown alongside the world's memory—a tree nourished by mana from a timeline that could never be revisited.

A sapling, cut from the outermost stem of the World Tree.

A brilliant white light rose above the neatly extended branch, then dimmed and vanished just as quickly.

Joseph moved again to seal the box.

Then he raised his index finger and traced it gently along the ebony box's edge.

Tszzzt.

Where Joseph's fingertip touched and lifted away, silver script etched itself with perfect clarity.

[Mikhail Senit]