Boldow’s fiery words seemed to make no impact on the crowd of students whatsoever. They regarded him icily. Some of them were resting their heads on their hands, or yawning audibly. Not a single one of them seemed to be paying attention to the lecture.
“However!” Boldow roared. “I have my doubts about these so-called spells! If magic can only be cast through the precise recital of set words, how is it that there are those among magic beasts who can use magic as well?! There are demons out there who can speak human languages, of course, but they are not the only ones who can utilize magic! There are many types of magic beasts who clearly lack intelligence, and yet who can call forth its power with ease! Ergo! We can conclude that spells and incantations per se are not absolutely necessary in producing magical effects!”
“Hahh...”
“What is needed for magic is not a spell, but intention! Incantations exist only to focus your desires and thoughts in a specific direction. This is proof that simple force of will is all that is required to use magic!”
“Hahh...”
The audience for his lecture had been giving Boldow absolutely nothing, no matter how many controversial opinions he tossed their way. Chalk gripped tight in his hand, he began to tremble with frustrated passion.
“What is the matter with you people?! Is my lecture really that boring to you?! How do you expect to become first-rate Magicians with an attitude like that?!”
“No, the lecture’s fine...”
“It’s just...”
The students exchanged a glance and hung their shoulders.
“What is it, then?!” Boldow demanded. “If you have something you want to say, say it!”
“Well, if you insist...” The student closest to the blackboard raised his hand.
“Yes!” said Boldow, glad to have someone to call on.
“Respectfully sir, our Profession is Fencer, and right now, we are here for sword practice. I don’t see any need for the lecture on magic.”
The boy was, of course, correct. These bright young Fencers had come to learn swordsmanship from Boldow, their lord. None of them had the slightest reason to be interested in a lecture on magic.
“Ghh!” cried Boldow, reeling like he was injured. “Right where it hurts!”
“Also, my lord, you can’t use much magic either, can you?”
“I’ll have you know that I can manage a simple fire spell, at least!”
“I just mean... If we were going to be learning magic, wouldn’t we want to learn it from your wife, Lady Aleksia? She’s a Sage, isn’t she?”
“And a looker too,” added one of the other students.
“And so kind...” chimed in a third.
“That would be a hundred times better than listening to a lecture from a scruffy old dude like his lordship...”
“Yeah! Yeah!”
It seemed the whole class was in agreement. At some point the whole thing devolved into insults, as they started venting their frustration toward Boldow.
“Get out of here!”
“Go home!”
“Zero-magic lord!”
“You!!!” Lord Boldow shouted, red in the face. “You’re not getting Leksi! Her private lessons are mine, and mine alone!”
“Ewww!” The whole crowd of students—in fact, they were members of the village’s defensive militia—strongly objected to that line from Boldow.
“Nope! I am not interested in hearing about his lordship’s marital activities!”
“Are we going to study swordsmanship today or not?”
“I gotta go work the fields again in the afternoon...”
“Magic’s all well and good, but can we please get to practice? It’s the only thing I’m any good at.”
“Well, you certainly gave me an earful, I’ll say that...” Boldow muttered. Officially he might be the lord of the surrounding lands, complete with peerage and a noble title, but his position certainly hadn’t stopped him from taking a licking in this encounter. “All right, all right. Come on, let’s warm up with some strike practice.”
Boldow’s enthusiasm from the lecture on magic seemed to have completely vanished. He acted completely despondent as the class moved on to their sword drills. The students, on the other hand, finally seemed alert. They corrected their postures and began the practice in earnest.
But suddenly, they were interrupted. Boldow could hear a sound from far off—his lovely wife, shouting at the top of her lungs. He wheeled around, glaring in the direction of the house.
“What was that?!” he said. “A hot guy?!”
The students didn’t seem to have heard anything. Their banter was as merciless as always.
“Huh? Lord Boldow, have you started hearing things?”
“You can always tell us if there’s something bothering you, you know. We won’t do anything to help, though.”
“We probably won’t even listen.”
Boldow, however, was on a different track entirely. “Who’s this scoundrel trying to seduce my Leksi?!” he roared, charging through the forest with such force that it shook the trees as he passed. He leapt down a cliff, hopped over a couple entire wheat fields, and within a few seconds was back at his wife’s side.
“You!” he said, addressing the man standing in front of her. “Rascal! Have you been making passes at Leksi?! Repent, or taste my fireballs!”
The man, however, turned to face Boldow and addressed him calmly. “Are you Kanata’s lord father?” he asked. “It is an honor to meet you. We are Zaggy, né Zag’giel. It is our honor to serve as one of Kanata’s companions.”
Boldow caught one glimpse of the man’s face—the lustrous black hair, the sharp intelligence evident in his eyes, the lips curled up in a measured smile, the unblemished skin and handsome features—and immediately reeled backward like a ghoul caught in the sunlight.