Chapter 235
If one were to consider the decade before and after as a single generation, who were the figures who left the greatest mark in each department of the Academy?
Let us exclude Lionel Luanax from the options.
In swordsmanship he needed no explanation, and in magic his theoretical mastery stunned even the professors, and in the Administrative Department he was an extraordinary genius whose name echoed far and wide.
First, in the Swordsmanship Department, there was Halid Calitas, who had been named the most promising newcomer from the moment he enrolled.
He certainly had his eccentricities, roaming everywhere as a grown man looking for his childhood first love, but his swordsmanship, honed through real combat, had no rival among his peers.
Then in the Department of Magic?
There was Ardin Silias.
Of course, when Ardin entered the Academy, Felix had already become head of the Silias family, so Ardin’s student life had been far from pleasant or peaceful.
If Felix commanded him to submit a blank exam sheet, he had to comply. If Felix ordered him to switch assignments with someone else, he had to do that too.
Even so, the professors saw it.
Ardin was a genius so rare that even the magic-renowned Silias line had trouble finding precedent for him.
Even if he occasionally dragged his own reputation through the mud, there was no mage foolish enough not to understand the cause of his behavior.
So they felt sorry for him, and they helped him quietly whenever they could.
Among them, Professor Delin, Ardin’s mentor, was the one who devoted himself relentlessly to finding a way to break the curse of the Silias family.
That effort continued even after Ardin graduated.
Professor Delin firmly believed that if only that curse could be solved, Ardin would become the greatest mage in the continent’s history. He alone held on to that hope, saying that a great life always contained a period of frustration and hardship.
Yes, alone.
Even though Ardin had long given up and resigned himself.
So now, with less than half of Felix’s mass of magic remaining over his spine, when he heard they would be visiting Cordeluc, the first person who came to Ardin’s mind was his mentor.
“Professor.”
The moment Professor Delin had a hard look at the face of the disciple who had come to visit his laboratory, he recognized him at once.
“Ardin…”
It was the moment he realized Ardin had finally escaped that wretched curse.
It was also when he realized that the painted-on smile Ardin had carried from enrollment to graduation had always been a lie.
For on the face of the young man who had shaken off despair and seized his future bloomed a radiance bright enough to dazzle.
A breath of awe spilled from the old mage’s lips.
“The Divine One has finally turned His gaze upon you.”
In the past, Ardin would have scoffed, asking what business a mage had seeking gods.
But now he could not.
He even nodded and said, “Yes.”
During his Academy years, he had found his mentor nothing but a nuisance.
Twisted to the core, Ardin had heard every sincere word of concern as hypocrisy, and every gentle, encouraging look as irritating.
So he mocked him with a smiling face. Using his own pitiful circumstances as a shield, he wounded him without hesitation.
And he felt nothing afterward.
Now years had passed since Ardin’s graduation.
Yet the walls of his mentor’s research office were still covered, from end to end, with results of countless experiments meant to break the Curse of Silias, meant to save Ardin.
Professor Delin, noticing Ardin’s gaze, let out a bitter little laugh.
“No progress at all. I had failed so many times that I felt I no longer had the face to see you, but… how fortunate.”
What was the true nature of the curse that bound him?
Felix’s mass of magic had no power to corrupt the heart.
Ardin had lacked shame.
He had lacked gratitude, and regret.
He had lacked awareness of kindness.
Then who had stolen all of that from him?
No one. It had been a curse of his own making.
Something churned violently within Ardin at his master’s foolishness, apologizing to him instead, saying he was sorry he couldn’t help Ardin when he was struggling.
That heavy, stone-like thing rose up to his throat and became sound. Rose further still, and became tears.
“I’m sorry, Professor. And…”
The drops fell, hitting the cluttered floor and his shoes.
He could not bring himself to lift his head and meet his mentor’s face.
“Thank you… for not giving up on your useless student.”
