“Well, me, and the rest of humanity...” Raid chuckled wryly. This change basically meant that the two of them would age and grow old together this time. “Now that I think about it, the village chief said you were a collateral relative of the royal family. Are you some big shot this time ’round too?”
“A super big shot, I think.”
Raid’s eyes fell half-lidded, exasperated at her stunning eloquence. “Right... Sure. Um, how ‘super,’ exactly?”
Eluria hummed. “One of my pupils was from the royal family, and she took on my surname, and now they’re known as the house that inherited the Sage’s name.”
“Oh, wow. That is a super big shot.”
This was now a world of magic elitism, after all, where many legends and stories sang praises of its founder, the Sage. Undoubtedly the house that inherited her name carried immense influence. All this was a result of Eluria’s own efforts toward passing her techniques down to future generations, so the fact that she herself had a stable backing in this life was a wonderful turn of events.
However, Eluria simply looked at Raid and asked, “What about you...?”
“Yeah? What about me?” he asked back.
“What’s your life like now?”
“I plow the fields here, cut some trees there, and carry stuff for peddlers sometimes too.”
There was a long silence before Eluria murmured, “Why?”
“Well... ’Cause I can’t use magic.”
For the record, Raid had certainly put in effort to learn. He studied what were now considered the basics of magic, asked his far more talented brother and sister to teach him, and tried all sorts of things, but to no avail. Even the most elementary of spells, ones that even kids could manage, were beyond his grasp.
“How were the results of your Aptitude Test?”
“That thing we take when we turn twelve? Well, the apparatus completely broke down the moment I touched it, so the person from the Association gave me an earful.”
In this world, children took the Mana Aptitude Test when they turned twelve. Should the mana capacity computed by the apparatus reach a certain value, the child will be labeled as a magician candidate. If the score met an even higher standard, then they could even look forward to invitations from the various magic institutes across the land. By graduating from one of these institutes, they could then follow the glorious path of a magician.
However, Raid’s problem came before all that. Forget casting magic, even just directing his mana into anything that had a mana circuit ended in nothing but utter destruction. So, when the measuring apparatus used for the Mana Aptitude Test was very predictably reduced to smithereens, not only did he have to sit through the official’s long-winded lecture, but he also received a notice declaring that his mana aptitude was a big fat zero. Thus ends the story of how he had come to be officially labeled as incompetent.
Still, Raid didn’t let any of that get to him. If getting all stubborn about magic could cause trouble for those around him, then he very much preferred to just live by earnestly tending to the fields and lending the villagers his aid in his own way.
However, the girl before him seemed oddly offended by his humble countryside life. Eluria’s brow crumpled and she stuck her lip out in a pout. “But you’re the Hero,” she whined.
“Well, I was the Hero,” he sheepishly corrected.
“And you’re about as strong as me.”
“I won’t deny that. But this world is all about magic now. Melee weapons are treated as curios and decorations, and even if they weren’t, only magicians are permitted to engage in combat.”
Although the creases between Eluria’s eyebrows deepened with each passing word, Raid’s assessment of the modern world was accurate. Those who couldn’t use magic were labeled as incompetent. No matter how strong you actually were in nonmagical ways, you wouldn’t be allowed in combat. All you could do was live out your life in anonymity. Raid was still just one human in the end; with both his own station and the world around him completely changed, there wasn’t much he could do.
Eluria nodded once before lifting her face and slowly parting her lips. “Raid,” she said, her voice coming out in a near whisper, “marry me.”
His jaw dropped. A stunned “huh?” was all he could muster after a long bout of silence.
“I guess you’ll have to start as my fiancé.”
“Hold up. Don’t go progressing these marriage talks on your own.”
However, the girl who’d made the spontaneous proposal looked dead serious. “My, or rather, House Caldwin’s close affiliates can take the Magic Institute’s entrance exam regardless of their aptitude. Just show them how strong you are, and you should be able to become a magician too. Then, you can fight just like before. It’s the perfect plan.”
“But isn’t that kinda unfair...?”
“Not at all,” Eluria promptly responded. She most certainly wasn’t joking around. “It’s just... You were really strong. Strong enough to go toe to toe with me for more than fifty years. And you weren’t just strong—that’s why you were called the Hero.” She hung her head with a frown. “But now, nobody cares about you just because you can’t use magic. It’s dumb. I don’t like that.”
Right now, she was speaking as his rival of fifty long years. The Hero and the Sage knew and acknowledged one another’s strengths better than anyone, which must be why Eluria felt the need to make such a proposal, however outlandish it may be.
Still, at present, Raid was but a young man from the boonies who couldn’t use magic, while Eluria was a young lady who held status and power second only to royalty. Should the worst happen, he might end up dragging mud all across her noble name. He couldn’t possibly assent to such an absurd proposal.
“Look, I appreciate the thought, but—”
However, the moment he tried to turn her down, Eluria interrupted him with a very familiar line:
“Let’s settle who’s stronger between us, once and for all.”
It was the promise they had been unable to fulfill in their past life, the one and only regret that plagued Raid’s mind till his dying breath. Raid’s brow furrowed. “It’s so unfair of you to bring that up now.”
“Not at all,” Eluria repeated impassively, her pure and unclouded blue eyes seeing straight through him. “You should be thinking the same thing.”
And she was right—his answer was already decided.
Over fifty years of battles had brought changes to the responsibilities they carried on their shoulders. Defeat of either the Hero or the Sage could have led to the annihilation of their respective army and nation. That was why they kept ending their bouts in draws like actors following their script, always fighting seriously yet never drawing out their full strength.
But if he could dare to wish again...
“I won’t run or hide, so come at me anytime.”
Raid responded the same way he had to that promise from a memory long past.