Isabella of the Maria Huwon class. Isabella of the Thirteen Apostles.
Neither of those titles meant anything to Majic. He’d never heard of a sorcerer named Maria Huwon when he was in Tefurem, to say nothing of her student Isabella.
He had to admit being somewhat annoyed that Orphen, who had so easily fought off Pluto, a sorcerer lauded as one of the strongest on the continent—no one else seemed to see it that way, but that’s how it had looked to Majic, at least—trusted someone like Isabella who Majic had never heard of before so much.
However...
He’d leaped at her and had almost grabbed her, but was in the air before he knew it, and on the ground a second later, left asking himself what had just happened. When he picked himself up off the ground, Isabella was just standing there without any sort of combat stance. She hadn’t even moved from the spot where he’d tried to grab her.
It was like his body had gone right through her. Isabella looked down at him, frowning.
“Hmm... I see...” she groaned.
Before she could say anything else, Majic yelped from the ground, “N-No! This is just... It’s just me, it’s not that Mas—that Orphen did anything.”
“I can tell,” she said bluntly. She folded her arms and cocked her head. “So Krylancelo hasn’t taught you how to fight yet.”
“H-He did teach me a little bit, at least.” Majic stood as he spoke, figuring that he’d remain at a disadvantage if he was still seated. As he dusted off his pants, Isabella continued speaking without moving closer to him.
“He just taught you how to cast spells?”
Hearing a bit of blame in her voice, Majic hurriedly said, “Y-Yes, but that’s because I—”
Isabella waved her hand, cutting him off. “Listen, I’m not trying to criticize Krylancelo’s teaching methods, so you don’t have to keep leaping to defend him.”
Majic went silent, finally realizing that her irritation was with him and not Orphen.
Isabella asked something else. “Majic, what’s bothering you?”
“Nothing...”
Isabella smiled. “I have an idea from what we were talking about earlier. It’s the Sorcerer’s Misery.”
“Huh?”
“That’s what they call it when a sorcerer hits a wall and gets depressed,” she said, her shoulders slumping like she was sighing. “Any sorcerer worth his salt has to train to control their abilities and is called upon to use those abilities for something or another, so they end up brooding about it. And kids have always got stuff they’re worrying about anyway.”
Majic couldn’t say anything in response.
Isabella smiled knowingly. “It’s a path everyone takes at some point. I have, and I’m sure Krylancelo and the Demon of the Capital Pluto have as well. But you figure it out eventually. Stretch as much as you like, you can only reach so far.”
“So I should just be satisfied with what I’ve got?”
“No, but at some point you need to realize your grasp is limited while you stand in place. If you wish to reach the horizon, then you’ll have to walk.”
“Have you reached what you grasped for, Isabella?” Majic asked without thinking.
She looked around as if to confirm something. If she was seeing the same things he was, she was looking at the ruined wastelands, their destination far in the distance beyond their reach, her injured companions, the gusting winds, the broken-up clouds in the sky... That was about it.
No, the one thing she couldn’t see was herself. Isabella, black sorcerer of the Thirteen Apostles. Hair wind-tossed, face dirty with sand she couldn’t clean away. Probably hurt in some way from the battles she’d faced up to this point.
“Not...here, I’d say,” she murmured. “But when I think about my comrades who have died, I suppose I should be proud that I’m still here.”
Proud.
The word stuck in his chest. Majic hung his head and thought to himself—he had never once felt pride.
I see... It’s not about being strong or weak, or what you can or can’t do. It’s pride, and I’m the only person here who doesn’t have that...
“Umm!” he shouted without thinking and then blushed.
“Yeah?” Isabella asked, looking surprised.
“Umm, you can fight, right, Assistant Professor Isabella? Judging from how you reacted just now...”
“I’m Maria Huwon’s best student. You should consider me an equal match for her.”
When she showed him a determined smile, Majic pressed toward her. “Then, umm, at least until we reach our destination...could you teach me a technique or something?”
“Huh?”
Majic indicated his chest. “I’d like you to teach me something I could use to stop someone.”
“Were you actually listening to me, Majic?” Isabella asked, crossing her arms.
Majic nodded and lowered his voice. “I think it’s true that I’m simply reaching in vain right now, but as I am... I can’t protect anyone. In that attack just now too, all I could do was let you protect me.”
“I suppose that’s true...” She thought for a time before reluctantly looking back toward him. She waved her finger at him, arms still crossed. “If you can understand what I’m about to tell you, there might be something I can teach you.”
“O-Okay.” Majic nodded, groaning, and she gave him a harsh look.
“First, you can’t ever use this unless you’re in a situation where fleeing is impossible.”
“Okay...”
“Second, if you use this technique on someone, you must not attack them any more after that.”
“...Huh?” Majic didn’t understand.
Isabella took a breath and continued, “Basically, you can only use it as a surprise attack. You land one hit on your opponent and then you have to run. Don’t trust it too much.”
“All right...” Majic answered this time.
Finally, Isabella unfolded her arms and grabbed Majic’s shoulders. She squeezed and said, “And you must not screw it up.”
“I...”
“Don’t talk back. I won’t teach anything to someone who thinks he’s gonna screw up. Especially not if it’s some short-term, stopgap thing. It’s not just your life at stake here. You’ll get the person you’re trying to protect killed too.”
Majic realized he was holding his breath, overwhelmed by the intensity of the woman in front of him. There was a light in her eyes that allowed no hesitation or compromise from him.
But... I’ve never won anything that could be called a fight before. Majic couldn’t stop trembling when he thought that.
He’d been through danger before, certainly—but every time, he’d been saved by someone else.
But that’s exactly why... He calmed down and expelled the heavy air in his throat through his nose.
“Okay,” he said.
Isabella immediately let go of his shoulders. She took a few steps back, adjusted her posture, and told him, “I’m not taking on some troublesome apprentice. I’m just teaching you a single skill. It’ll be up to you to decide when and how to use it.”
“Okay.”
“Also, I just want to make sure you understand this, in case you’ve got the wrong idea about something.” The look she gave him was already saying what she was about to. “I can’t teach you nicely like Krylancelo.”
The pride he was just starting to grasp slipped through his fingers and Majic began to regret what he’d asked.
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