The people nearby all cried out at the sight. Certainly, it took a competent mage to be able to use flight magecraft. There weren’t many mages who could use it in my day. After all, you needed to be able to balance your control over multiple elemental affinities. It was completely possible for those with Amber Eyes like me, but it must’ve taken an incredible amount of effort for a mage like Eliza, with Crimson Eyes, to master this.
“No matter how talented you are, I bet you’ve never seen this!”
Well...actually, at this point I’m kinda sick of seeing it. I never expected someone to inherit such a characteristic magecraft so perfectly two hundred years down the line. More than likely, her ancestors were all serious to a fault.
“Analysis over. Negation Magecraft.”
Of course, since I’d witnessed this magecraft countless times, I could use my negation magecraft on it. All I had to do was analyze it first—and against magecraft I’d already analyzed, this process was obviously even faster.
There was a sound like glass breaking, and Eliza’s flames scattered into nothingness.
“Huh? Huh?! Huh?!?!?!”
Eliza, having been parted from her wings in a most unseemly fashion, let out a scream, holding her skirt down as she tumbled out of the air.
Good grief. What a troublesome noble girl. I predicted where she would land and caught her.
“You’re a descendant of the Fire Hero, Maria, aren’t you?”
A look of utter confusion was written all across her face.
“You have talent, just like that muscle-head. Keep at it.”
But seriously, is she the same age as me? If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up weighing more than Lilith. It was no longer possible for me to hold her in my arms, so I dropped her and let her roll across the ground.
“The winner is applicant number twenty-seven—Abel!” the supervisor proclaimed.
As soon as she had made this proclamation, the room exploded with cheers. I was happy that Eliza’s ancestors had managed to perfectly pass down the magecraft that Maria developed. Originally, Rose Madder Sky burned one’s life force in exchange for dramatically boosting one’s power. If the fight went on for too long, the spell would end up fatally harming the user.
“What...What is he?” Eliza wondered in disbelief as she stared up from the ground, unable to even begin comprehending his power.
✦ ✦ ✦
Three hours had passed since Abel and the other examinees completed their entrance exam.
“There are quite a few interesting talents in this year’s batch of prospective students.”
As usual, the proctors had gathered in the faculty room to discuss the examinees.
“Oh, are you referring to the G-three?”
“G-three?”
“The Genius Three. The three examinees who stood head and shoulders above the rest—they’re prodigies.”
Out of over two hundred applicants, Ted, Eliza, and Abel had easily shown that they were ahead of the curve. They were elites, and were all that any of those gathered wanted to discuss.
“Oh, how promising. I can only hope that they will raise the bar for our students.”
“I couldn’t agree more. It’d be great if we could at least place in the top three this year.”
The time when Arthlia Academy had been touted as the top academy for magecraft in the country was long past. In truth, they’d been slipping down the rankings as a result of losing exhibition matches against other schools. Essentially, they were a shadow of their former glory.
“Hmph. ‘G-three’? How ridiculous,” a man by the name of Emerson spat, dampening the excitement of the other teachers in the room.
He was a slender man with unkempt curly hair and round glasses. He alone was not swept away by the excitement of those around him. He was known as an eccentric instructor who stood his ground and stayed true to his opinions, regardless of what others thought.
“The only genius among the three is Abel,” he stated clearly.
“Abel? The commoner with Amber Eyes? He may have been very skilled with magecraft, but...”
“If we’re talking about raw talent, though, we can’t exactly leave Eliza out of the conversation, can we?”
Emerson exhaled, a look of annoyance on his face. He worried for future generations of mages if these were the instructors tasked with raising them. It was Emerson who had graded Abel’s written test. In doing so, Abel’s unique abilities and intelligence had stunned him.
How could this be? A mere student has perfectly solved Depornix’s Last Theorem, he’d thought.
In reality, there were only a handful of modern-day magecraft researchers who completely understood the theorem. So why had such a difficult question appeared on a student’s exam? It was due to Emerson’s mean-spirited personality. Never in his wildest dreams, however, had he expected a student to answer this question correctly.
No, this isn’t merely perfect—it exceeds that! The more he looked at Abel’s answer, the more he realized that the boy had gone past simply talking about the theorem itself. He’d improved it. If his answer had been published as a paper, he may even have received a public commendation.
“Ho ho ho. This year’s prospective students have certainly livened up your discussion.”
“H-Headmaster?!” The teachers in the room let out sounds of surprise as an elderly man entered the room.
His name was Mikhael, and he was the most powerful man at this academy. In his youth, he’d been touted as the country’s greatest mage. However, he wasn’t just a skilled mage. Flowing through his veins was the blood of one of the great heroes, which made him an influential figure both domestically and internationally.
“The word ‘amazing’ doesn’t even begin to describe this boy!” Emerson exclaimed.
“Oh? He must be a very talented child indeed if he’s got a mage of your caliber this excited.”
Emerson was one of the top mages in the academy. Despite his young age, he’d received numerous patents for Regalia development. The other teachers looked up to him as well.
“I guarantee that this boy, despite his Amber Eyes, will become an amazing mage who will lead this country to greater heights. I believe in Abel!”
Mikhael began to cough.
“H-Headmaster? Are you all right?!” Emerson asked with concern.
“Oh, yes... I’m fine, but could you tell me the boy’s name once more?”
“Of course. It’s Abel! He received a perfect score on the written exam—the highest score in the history of our academy. He’s a certified genius!”
Mikhael cradled his head in his hands. He was the only one who was familiar with the name “Abel.”
“Um... Are you perhaps acquainted with the boy named Abel, sir?”
“No. It’s nothing like that. Pardon me, but could you tell me a little more about him?”
Mikhael was wishing that this was all just a nightmare, one that he’d soon wake up from. But as the teachers told him about Abel, he became increasingly uneasy.
✦ ✦ ✦
Mikhael proceeded down a darkened hallway towards stairs that led to the basement of the academy, with the dim light emanating from his lamp as his only reliable guide.
Abel? Abel?! It can’t be... It can’t be!
He glanced at a stone statue of a knight with a sword that stood nearby in the underground hallway. Reaching out, he traced the crest on one of the stone statues with his finger, and a hidden door appeared to the left. Behind this door was the Headmaster’s Office, which only a handful of people could enter.
“If I remember correctly, it should be somewhere around here...” Mikhael muttered as he unlocked a drawer in his wooden desk. He pulled out a well-preserved envelope, which contained a ragged letter that had faded from sun damage.
My dear descendants,
Listen well. I will tell you, and only you, the truth. It will be said that a party of four mages—fire, wind, water, and ash—called the “Great Four,” vanquished the demon king, but that’s a lie. A single individual defeated him: an Amber-Eyed mage named Abel.
The four of us were powerless in the face of the demon king, but Abel defeated him single-handedly. This is the truth. Keep this in mind and remember that even if you’re called the descendant of a hero, don’t get too full of yourself. The true hero is Abel, and him alone. Make sure you remember that, if nothing else.
Sincerely,
The Hero of Wind, Roy
As soon as he finished reading the letter, Mikhael began to tremble. He’d heard many a time from his late grandfather that there was a fifth member of the “Great Four,” who had the same Amber Eyes as demons and had been horribly persecuted by the world. He’d possessed overwhelming strength, but his name was never recorded and was eventually lost to time. Even after completing the great achievement of defeating the Demon King, Roy continued to wonder where Abel had gone.
“Can I simply write this off as mere coincidence...?”
It would’ve been easy to dismiss even the notion that they were the same person. No matter how talented the mage, there was no way that they could have survived for two hundred years. Thinking about it normally, there shouldn’t have been any possibility that the Abel that Roy had spoken of was the same as the one Mikhael had now encountered in modern times. But if that was the case, then why was it that Mikhael—who’d lived many years as the descendant of a hero—felt so uneasy?
“Perhaps I should test him to determine if he is who I think he is...” Mikhael said softly as he sat in the armchair at his desk, stroking his long, white beard.