“Haaam….”
Ugh, I really slept well.
We'd gone straight to Rosemil the moment we arrived in Arkanel.
On top of that, I'd handled other business along the way, so I must have been exhausted.
I'd slept so soundly that the moment I opened my eyes, my mind was crystal clear.
Normally I'd still be groggy, fumbling around at least a little.
“Hm?”
I'd meant to wake Yuria and get some breakfast together.
But when I looked around, Yuria wasn't in the bed.
Where did she go?
Don't tell me that madman Clovis tried something in the middle of the night—
Clunk!
Uneasy, I quickly threw on a coat and hurried out of the room.
“Yuria!”
Half-panicking, half-hoping, I searched for her desperately.
“Oh ho, well done. You've got clever hands.”
“Try this candy too, dearie.”
“Heh heh, our granddaughter used to be just like that…”
A commotion drifted over from somewhere.
Was that from the balcony?
I bolted toward the sound, and what greeted me was a sight I never could have imagined.
The venerable elders of the Magic Association were gathered in little clusters, and right in the middle of them, Yuria was fiddling with what looked like knitting.
What exactly was I looking at?
“Yuria, there you are.”
“Baal?”
I let out a sigh of relief and approached, and Yuria turned her head toward me.
The little tuft of hair sticking up on her head swayed side to side as if it had just locked onto its target.
Like some kind of antenna.
“I couldn't find you, so I got worried. You could have said something before you left.”
“Can't wake you up.”
“It's fine, really. Next time, wake me up before you go.”
“Okay. Got it.”
So obedient.
Honestly, she might outrank even Lyriette in obedience.
“By the way, what were you all doing out here?”
“What do you think? She was wandering the halls alone, so we thought we'd keep her company for a bit.”
“Heh heh, when you get old, you stop needing much sleep in the mornings.”
“Come look at this. She made it herself—pretty impressive, isn't it?”
It seemed they'd been looking after her the way one might dote on a granddaughter.
Then again, most of the people here probably had granddaughters who'd already come of age.
They probably hadn't seen such a pure, innocent little one in a long while.
“Oh, quite impressive.”
Admiration slipped out of me as I looked at the half-finished knitting in Yuria's hands.
Given the limited time, the basic shape was surprisingly solid.
It was even more surprising because, in the original story, there was never any mention of Yuria being skilled with her hands.
“Anyway, it's already past ten. Has everyone eaten?”
“Of course we have. What kind of person skips a meal this late?”
“Go feed your disciple, will you.”
“What? You mean you didn't take her with you?”
Wait, hadn't they been watching over her from the start?
Otherwise, these people weren't the type to just leave her behind and go eat without a second thought.
Puzzled, I asked, and Grita gave a warm smile as she pointed at Yuria.
“We couldn't just leave her behind, so she sat here fiddling with that thing the whole time we were gone. Must be starving by now, the poor thing.”
“Yuria did that?”
She skipped eating because of me?
It's not like I'd have minded—she could've gone and asked for food anytime.
Maybe she just didn't know that.
Still, I was honestly a bit taken aback, and I stared at her in disbelief.
“Yep. Yuria did. V.”
As if advertising herself, Yuria proudly held up two fingers in a V-sign.
“Yuria, where did you learn that?”
“Grita taught me.”
“Our granddaughter used to do that all the time when she was little.”
What a strange thing to teach a child.
Her face was as still as stone, yet her hands were flashing peace signs—the disconnect was almost comical.
Though, oddly enough, it kind of suited her.
I think I've caught the habit too.
“Well, let's go get you something to eat, then. You must be starving after waiting on me like that.”
“It's fine. Yuria's good at waiting. Can go without food for a week. Went ten days once.”
“Oh, dear, how could—”
“Poor little thing.”
“…….”
Yuria seemed to have meant it as reassurance, to show she was fine.
But all it did was draw cries of dismay from everyone around.
Deciding it'd be best to set some ground rules now, I crouched down to meet her eye level.
“Yuria, from now on you need to eat all three meals a day, without fail. Understand?”
“Three meals?”
“Yes. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Even if you're busy, you must never skip a meal.”
“Why?”
Asking why left me at a loss for words again.
Maybe I should try the same tactic I used on Lyriette.
“Because that's how children grow big and strong.”
“Grow big? Bigger than Baal?”
“Hmm… Depending on how hard you try, maybe.”
Honestly, surpassing my own height of over 180 centimeters seemed unlikely, but I told her a little white lie to get her on board.
'In the original story, maybe she was just malnourished.'
The novel had described Yuria as small and frail.
But that was likely due to her upbringing and the abuse she suffered under Clovis.
If she ate properly, three meals a day, under my care, maybe she'd grow beyond recognition.
“Then I'll eat. Three times a day, no skipping.”
“Good girl. Alright, shall we go eat?”
“Yeah.”
“But first, let's say goodbye to the elders who played with you.”
I turned her body to face them as I spoke.
She kept one hand firmly in mine while waving the other, flapping it back and forth.
Her arm was so thin it looked like a wilted fern frond swaying in the wind.
“Bye.”
“There you go. See you later, little one.”
“Oh my, isn't she just precious. She'll break a lot of hearts when she grows up, won't she?”
“I was just like that once… ah, how time flies.”
Even that half-hearted wave looked adorable to the old ladies, who waved back cheerfully, beaming with delight.
Once Yuria properly stepped into a mage's path, her connections would be nothing to scoff at.
It felt like she'd have the Magic Association's full backing.
“Hm? You're finally up?”
“Master.”
And, wouldn't you know it, on our way to the dining hall we happened to run into one of those very connections.
Need I say more—it was our old man, who since yesterday had become completely wrapped around Yuria's little finger.
He'd probably deny it, but the air around him practically screamed how utterly smitten he was with her.
“Grandpa, hi.”
“Ahem! Yes, good morning.”
See, look at that.
The moment Yuria gave her tiny hand a little wave, his mouth split into a grin.
Should've gotten married sooner, old man.
At this rate he'd throw a tantrum in his final years, demanding a granddaughter of his own.
“I heard the news. Heading back to the estate early, are you?”
“Yes, that's the plan. With Yuria here, and my nephew to worry about, I'm thinking of leaving as early as the day after tomorrow.”
At my words, my master's expression twisted into a scowl.
“Good grief. I still can't believe it. Are you really that same bookworm who used to have his nose buried in a book all day?”
“People change as they grow older, don't they?”
“Change, sure, but not like this—flipping around like a coin! Anyone would think your soul got swapped out for another, you brat!”
Oh, how did he guess?
The dignity of an 8th Circle mage, I suppose.
Well, not that my soul got swapped, exactly—more like another sleeping soul woke up inside me.
With nothing much to say, I laughed awkwardly instead.
My master, clicking his tongue at me, tossed something my way.
I caught it and examined it—an object all too familiar.
“Master, this is…”
“I was going to give it to you at today's Association investiture ceremony. But since you seem in a hurry, just take it now. I've already spoken with Grita about it.”
It was the gold badge symbolizing the rank of Golden Star—the highest position in the Magic Association apart from the Grand Council headed by the Association Chairman himself.
He was giving this to me?
Even having reached the 7th Circle, this wasn't something easily earned.
“Am I really allowed to accept something like this?”
“Then who else would I give it to? Just your paper from last year alone was enough to make those Grand Council fools keel over.”
“I did hear something to that effect, but…”
Back then, I hadn't even reached the 7th Circle yet.
At the time, my position was closer to a theoretical mage than a practical one, so I'd submitted a paper built entirely on theory.
If you want to draw the distinction between a mage and a magic scholar, think of it like the difference between an experimental physicist and a theoretical physicist.
At the time, I hadn't realized just how significant it was—but given that even my esteemed master had been unable to hold back his praise, I figured it must have been fairly impressive.
But I never imagined it would come back to me in the form of a gold badge.
This was more than a little surprising.
“It's a result you earned, so don't be modest—just take it. I'll speak to the Imperial Palace myself, so don't worry about anything. Just take that little one and head home.”
“Master, would it be alright if I cried a little?”
“Damn brat, quit talking nonsense and get going already!”
Ah, and just when it was such a touching moment.
My rekindled respect for my master, blooming for the first time in ages, got sliced down without mercy.
Still, I couldn't help but laugh.
This was, after all, a badge I'd once admired as a young mage myself.
Even among the top mages of the Tower, very few possessed one.
That was how rare it was—and how much recognition I'd earned.
“Yes, sir. Then as soon as we finish eating, I'll take Yuria and set off right away. Thank you again, Master.”
I bowed deeply, and Yuria, seemingly imitating me, awkwardly bent at the waist as well.
“Grandpa, thank you.”
“Hah, you little rascal. Do you even know what that is, to be thanking me for it?”
“Don't know. Baal said thank you, so I said thank you too.”
“Become master and disciple, and already thick as thieves, huh.”
“V.”
“That's not a compliment, you brat!”
And so, leaving behind that lively morning, we finished our meal and, no sooner had we done so, boarded a carriage bound for the ducal estate together.
***
Just in case, I'd asked, but Ern and Seripia said they'd be staying behind for a while.
So it was just Yuria and me in the carriage, heading toward the ducal estate.
Had I been alone, I could have driven almost without rest.
But since Yuria might tire easily, we took breaks along the way, and it wasn't until the following day that we finally reached the estate.
“Baal.”
“What is it, Yuria?”
“There are so many people here.”
“Well, it is the ducal estate. And see that big mansion up ahead? That's going to be your new home.”
“It's huge.”
Even with her emotions blunted, did she still have that childlike sense of wonder?
Or was it just an instinctive reaction bubbling up on its own?
As the Argent mansion came into view in the distance, Yuria knelt up on the seat, wriggling her hips in excitement.
Just as I thought—kids can never resist big, shiny things.
No aversion at all was actually a good sign.
—Neigh!
Soon, a horse's loud whinny announced that the carriage had arrived at its destination.
From the look of it, members of the household had come out to greet us.
Perfect timing.
I could introduce Yuria right away.
“Alright, Yuria. Let's get down.”
“Okay.”
I took her hand and helped her out of the carriage, and she landed on the ground with a little hop.
“Welcome back, Baal. You said it might take a while, but you're back rather early—hm?”
Thinking I'd be alone, Edmund had been about to continue his welcome, but his body froze in place.
He blinked a couple of times, looked at me, then looked at Yuria, then back at me again, over and over.
“Who's this child?”
“Ah, well, actually—”
“Uncle.”
Just as I was about to explain, someone cut in, interrupting me mid-sentence.
At the same time, a chill suddenly ran down my spine.
Whether it was just my imagination or not, the surrounding air seemed to have dropped sharply in temperature.
The warm spring breeze that had carried us here turned, in an instant, into a bitter, biting northern wind.
Did someone cast a weather-manipulation spell?
But even our old man couldn't pull that off.
Feeling the chill, I turned my head toward the source of the voice—
“You're back so early. I'm glad.”
There stood Lyriette, her tone as soft and gentle as ever, yet her eyes and the air around her told an entirely different story.
…Did I do something wrong?
