Chapter 29
I stared at Marcel’s blank report paper, lost in thought.
‘The materials he asked me to find were as obvious as everyone else’s.’
For some reason, Marcel’s paper lacked the report written from those materials.
‘A studious guy like him wouldn’t delay a task. Is he really pondering the task’s true intent?’
It was an unexpected development.
My thoughts deepened, staring at the blank paper.
Then—
“Eddie. What are you doing?”
Marcel’s cold voice interrupted.
I turned, giving an awkward smile, feigning embarrassment.
“Oh, haha… I was just wondering why you haven’t done the task yet, Young Master.”
“…”
Marcel alternated his gaze between me and his blank paper.
He covered it with the library materials.
“Don’t waste your attention. Focus on your own task.”
His response was, as expected, curt.
I nodded, glancing at the titles of his materials.
[Advanced Magical Theory, Revised]
[Understanding Mana Circuits]
[Wand Materials and Structural Classifications]
The titles alone showed how deeply he was thinking about the task.
‘But he’s still far off. Commendable effort, but he’s not grasping it.’
I swallowed a small sigh and returned to my desk.
As usual, we spent time in silence.
Then—
“Have you… already submitted your task?”
Marcel’s voice, slightly less cold, broke the silence.
It was the first time since enrollment he initiated a new topic.
I turned to face him.
He wasn’t looking at me but listened to my response.
“No, not yet. It’s trickier than I thought.”
“Tricky? What do you mean?”
“I need to find someone to spar magic with for mana enhancement, but as you know, I don’t easily approach first-years…”
“…”
At the unexpected mention of sparring, Marcel turned to look at me.
Before he could ask, he mulled over my words.
‘Is he saying the task’s answer is sparring with another mage, not absorbing mana from nature?’
It wasn’t easy to grasp.
He finally spoke, hesitant.
“Why… do you think the answer is sparring? Everyone else…”
“Thinks of absorbing natural mana to enhance power. But I don’t think so.”
I cut in, as if waiting for his question.
Marcel blinked, too stunned by my boldness to scold me.
“What…”
“That’s a way to generate stronger mana, not the best way to enhance existing mana.”
“…!”
His mouth opened slightly at my words.
‘Generate strong mana… enhance existing mana…’
He repeated my words, his eyes wavering.
I continued, ignoring his reaction.
“Of course, natural mana is the best material for strong mana, but Professor Fred’s task is about enhancing existing mana.”
“…”
“Magical theory says a mage’s mana grows dramatically when competing with another’s.”
“…”
“The mages around us are the best for mana enhancement, aren’t they?”
“…!”
As I spoke fluently, Marcel couldn’t say a word.
After my final sentence, his pen slipped from his hand.
He grabbed it quickly but couldn’t hide his shocked expression.
I caught every nuance of his reaction.
‘His mind’s in turmoil.’
As expected.
Marcel’s head must feel empty, now filling with new insights.
“But it’s the first task. They wouldn’t ask us to spar already…”
“It doesn’t have to be a grand spar. The key is feeling how your mana strengthens after competing, not winning or losing.”
“…”
Unable to counter my flowing responses, Marcel turned away silently.
The materials before him no longer registered.
‘Mages around us… utilizing them means seeking out spars.’
Then—
‘That’s why he gave us two weeks.’
It was a task worthy of two weeks.
Freshmen, still unfamiliar, had to find sparring partners and compete while sensing mana changes—a tall order.
It wasn’t a task to complete with library scraps.
Snicker—
A hollow laugh escaped Marcel’s lips.
Staring at the useless materials, he concluded after an hour of thought.
‘He’s right.’
He didn’t want to admit it, but he had to.
Marcel quietly pushed aside his materials.
“…”
He’d spent hours in the library, agonizing over them.
Now he understood why he couldn’t write.
‘I wasn’t sure.’
Unlike me, who spoke with conviction.
‘He grasped the task’s true intent from the start…’
His gaze fell on the materials.
He bit his lip hard.
All were fetched at my request.
‘What did he think of me, asking for those materials?’
Marcel felt ashamed.
And angry.
But his anger had no clear target.
It took the form of inferiority, directed at himself.
He stood, grabbing his pen and paper.
As I moved to follow, he ordered coldly,
“No need to follow. Do your own thing until I call.”
“…Yes, Young Master.”
***
Even knowing the task’s true intent, nothing changed.
Marcel didn’t ask me to spar.
‘His way of showing discontent.’
He explored and reflected alone, out of my sight.
I left him be, not provoking further.
His order to act independently was one reason, but more importantly—
‘It’s his choice now, between pride and growth.’
I’d told him the answer, knowing it’d bruise his pride.
Would Kirhausen’s heir choose to set aside pride and break preconceptions?
The answer came days later.
Marcel headed to the academy’s training ground at night with a senior.
The senior, wary of Marcel, was the assistant to senior Professor Anton Lener.
Anton had gladly fulfilled Marcel’s request for a sparring partner.
Whoosh—! Sssst—!
Marcel sparred with Anton’s assistant, using non-offensive 1-star nature spells.
I watched, hidden by Invisibility.
‘He chose the right approach. Not perfect, though.’
It wasn’t a perfect choice.
Bypassing the Tail his family provided to ask Anton showed he couldn’t fully set aside pride.
But he admitted I was right.
Not only did he heed my words, but he also honestly sparred with another mage for his report.
‘He could’ve just written my explanation for bonus points.’
Watching his honest sparring, I reconsidered his character.
Then I turned and left the training ground.
***
Leaving the training ground, I arrived at the top-floor corridor of the lecture building, not the dorm.
I hadn’t dispelled my Invisibility or other concealment spells.
I came at night, near lights-out, to meet Leodimir.
‘Marcel’s busy with his task and won’t return until midnight. It’s a good time to plan with Leo.’
I drew my wand and waved it at the torch-lined wall.
Swish—
“Hugo Caleb.”
The wall slid inward as I spoke the password.
I entered without hesitation, heading to the dean’s office.
Leodimir’s secret space, Corkis, modeled after my past life’s Pantheon.
Two weeks later, the vast books and pens still floated, organizing themselves.
It was a mage’s study, through and through.
Step, step.
I climbed the spiral staircase, slowly dispelling my concealment spells.
At the door—
Click—
It opened before I touched it.
Leodimir had registered me as an exception to the security spells.
‘Leo’s away.’
The detection spell would’ve alerted him the moment I entered Corkis.
I decided to wait, strolling through the office.
‘Feels like there’s more clutter than two weeks ago.’
I chuckled, hands behind my back, looking around.
My steps stopped before a large, pristine display case.
“…As expected.”
I smiled faintly, gazing inside.
The case’s contents drew a heavy step closer.