Leopold had given advance notice that he wouldn’t be stopping by the palace or going out — he would spend the day with his friends and come to the pine forest around evening.
Terren spent the entire day shut up alone in his dormitory room, drawing magic circles. He would protect an object with Protective Magic, then immediately strike it with Dark Magic — and repeat the process.
At first, the objects shriveled into nothing as though the Protective Magic wasn’t even there. After hundreds of attempts, he managed to work an infinitesimally small amount of Dark Magic–infused Mana into the Protective Magic. That gave it at least some degree of defensive power.
The more dark energy was mixed in, the more dangerous the magic became — unsuitable for use anywhere else — but Dark Magic fundamentally could not be blended with ordinary magic to begin with. Even managing to create a Protective Magic by working in an extremely small quantity of dark Mana was a genuinely meaningful achievement.
It had been a fulfilling day, and Terren was in reasonably good spirits. When evening came, he tucked his dagger away and slipped out of his dormitory room.
Walking down a corridor lined with antique carpets, he came face-to-face with a group of students passing the holiday.
Terren averted his eyes as usual and kept moving. As usual, it was useless.
“What are you doing here?”
A familiar provocation. The one who’d spoken was Theo.
A comparatively civil student — one who had never laid hands on Terren directly.
Unfortunately, something had put him in a bad mood today; his expression was dark and his voice was sharp.
There is one thing students of the Royal Academy universally do when they’re in a foul temper.
Pick a fight with Terren Meyer and say whatever comes to mind.
On his day off, Terren found himself on the receiving end of yet another such incident.
If they’d hit him, he would have hit back — but at this level, it was far better to just endure it. Terren moved to pass Theo and the two behind him — Edmund and Milo — but was blocked. They crossed their arms and leaned against the wall, their large frames filling the corridor.
Milo — who had once gotten thoroughly dealt with in the pine forest — comically took a half-step back and averted his eyes the moment he met Terren’s gaze.
“Where do you think you’re going, filth.”
“Move.”
Terren answered flatly. As though they were going to move.
One small mercy: there was no sign they intended to get physical.
They’d simply been in a foul enough mood today to block his path and unload a few choice words. Theo sneered and let them loose.
“I asked what you’re doing here. The Academy was already rotten — now it’s turned into a full-on cesspool. All because of you. Because you keep clinging to this place like you belong here.”
Edmund cut in.
“Is it because you’re putting out for Leopold?”
“Disgusting creature. Just looking at your hideous face is enough to turn my stomach. When exactly are you going to get out of the Academy, you parasite? I’d spit on you, but even that seems to warrant watching oneself these days. You filthy, lowborn—”
“What could you possibly be doing for him? I can’t think of any answer besides the one about taking it from behind.”
“Guess that’s what it is, then.”
Theo let out a short, contemptuous laugh and shifted his weight. After that, they simply let Terren go. Terren Meyer moved to walk away without giving it a second thought.
“Come here.”
That was, until he heard a familiar voice.
“Milo, Theo, and who was the other one. Right — Edmund.”
Leopold called their names one by one, his tone utterly calm. The First Prince, who had been walking down the corridor from the other direction, had heard every last word.
Terren Meyer mentally replayed what the three had said a moment ago and laughed inwardly.
They had openly committed something close to royal insult right before the prince’s eyes — their futures weren’t looking particularly bright. Technically the words had been directed at Terren rather than at royalty, so it might not amount to anything serious — but still.
“I suppose my ears aren’t working. I was under the impression there was nothing wrong with your hearing — perhaps my memory is mistaken.”
He said something uncharacteristically cutting. He looked genuinely angry.
Feeling a rare flush of satisfaction, Terren informed Leopold and passed him by.
“I’ll be heading to the pine forest.”
“…Wait a moment.”
Terren Meyer was becoming aware, now, that he was speaking with Leopold as one person to another. However hopeless his own personality might be, he understood what it meant to hold a conversation with a human being. So he stopped and looked at Leopold without a word.
But the First Prince was quiet for a moment, then gave a small shake of his head. Terren left without hesitation.
Terren took up a spot near the entrance to the pine forest and, after confirming there was no one around, drew his dagger. Dark Magic wrapped around his hand and curled slowly over the blade. He regulated his power and drove the dagger into the ground — and the earth turned pitch-black before splitting open in a large, deep gash. Terren pulled the dagger free, used his foot to smooth the soil, and covered it over with fallen leaves.
Coating a blade in Dark Magic produces tremendous destructive power. So what about White Magic? He’d never tried it. When Leopold came and taught him how to throw a dagger effectively, he would put it into practice straight away.
That thought in mind, Terren stood there leaning absently against a tree, and then slowly got to his feet as he caught sight of Leopold approaching.
“There’s a decent spot further in.”
Terren led the way into the pine forest. Leopold followed alongside him.
When the two of them were together, silence was generally the default state — though Leopold would occasionally break it by introducing a new topic.
But all the way until they reached the clearing in the forest, Leopold said nothing at all. What’s with him? Terren glanced over — and Leopold’s expression was subdued.
Well. He had just heard people say things like what are you doing for him — a blow like that was more than enough to wound his tender heart. On top of which, the subject in question was Terren Meyer. Plenty of reason to feel sick.
Not that it was any of his concern. Terren asked, indifferently:
“Did you hand out a punishment?”
“…For what happened earlier?”
“You already know. Why are you asking.”
“Ha. Right.”
…What?
Terren turned his head sharply, suddenly unsettled. He saw the prince of Delua wearing an obligatory smile, his eyes unfocused. The mental blow appeared to be considerable.
“If it’s hit you that hard, go back. What do you think you’re going to accomplish in that state.”
“…What are you talking about, Terren. I’m perfectly fine. Don’t tell me you’re actually worried about me.”
“Stop talking nonsense and just go back.”
“I don’t want to.”
Leopold smiled. Then he told Terren to throw the dagger — to sink it right into the center of a tree some distance away.
Terren did as instructed, and Leopold considered for a moment before walking slowly over to the tree to retrieve the dagger. Terren had been about to use Summoning Magic, then thought better of it.
Leopold returned and posed a sudden question.
“Do you hear things like that all the time?”
“…Are you mocking me?”
Leopold’s half-open mouth snapped shut. He cast his eyes downward. It was an expression Terren had never seen on him before.
When Terren looked at him questioningly, Leopold composed himself quickly. He put on the faint, public-facing smile he always wore and spoke:
“Get into your throwing stance.”
Terren immediately gripped the dagger, drew one foot slightly back, and was about to swing — then stopped.
Leopold took hold of Terren’s hand and twisted it to the side, ever so slightly.
“Your posture’s fine. But I noticed the blade was veering a little just now, and it was losing impact. If you twist your wrist just a fraction more when you throw, it’ll sink in deeper.”
“Don’t touch me with your filthy hands. I can follow along perfectly well with just words.”
“……”
Leopold suddenly stared at Terren in silence. Then he let out a hollow laugh.
“What’s so funny now. Wrap it up and keep going. You had more to say.”
Terren snapped, sounding irritated.
Well — actually, he wasn’t sure. He had been biting and cutting for every moment they’d spent together — he’d given Leopold countless small humiliations. There was nothing particularly special about this instance.
Being around Terren, who gave him no room to breathe and no respite from rudeness, Leopold had been changing in kind.
Things he might have let slide with someone else, he just said to Terren. It hardly mattered — whatever he said, it barely scraped the surface of what Terren dealt out.
So he didn’t bother suppressing the short laugh that slipped out.
“It reminded me of what they were saying earlier.”
That pitying expression returned.
“How soft-hearted you are.”
“Says the person who flinches at me touching their hand to help with their swordsmanship.”
“It sounds as though you think about what happened earlier with every breath you take. Was it really so terrible?”
“Not quite. It’s more that seeing you just now made me think of it.”
Terren gave no reply — apparently having taken offense. Having come out on top of the exchange, Leopold felt the satisfaction of winning and gave a pleased command:
“Throw it again.”
The dagger flew with his advice absorbed — landing slightly more to the center, and slightly deeper.
Terren noticed at once that the feeling of throwing had changed distinctly. He immediately used Summoning Magic to call the dagger back to his hand, then hit a tree further away dead-on.
Leopold spoke again.
“Good — but lean your body a little more here. Now throw again, right into the center of that marking over there. I’ll handle the Summoning Magic.”
A few more corrections, and by the time one of the forest’s trees had been split clean in two by the relentless attention of the dagger, they called a stop to the practice. The last of the daylight was spreading across the sky. Leopold said:
“Now attack me. Come at me.”
Terren complied without a word.
