Chapter 12

An era where countless people perished every day.

In the cemetery for the capital’s elite soldiers, the procession of those clad in black, the prayers of nuns and clerics, never ceased.

There stood those who had temporarily put aside their livelihoods to mourn their families, colleagues, and friends.

The coffin descends into the deep earth, and soil is quietly spread above.

The sounds of people weeping covered the cemetery for quite some time.

Those lying below were all someone’s parents, siblings, a husband, a wife who they vowed to spend their lives with.

From a little ways off, I watched their funeral until the very end.

As twilight deepened, some lingered, unable to leave. Others placed small, nameless flowers on the headstones and departed with a sob.

“…I heard the tale, how it became the Sword Saint’s party. Perhaps I should salute you now.”

A familiar voice came from behind.

It was Rex, the orc who had lost an arm.

He was wrapped in bandages, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his remaining hand. He seemed to have received only emergency treatment, arriving here to mourn his fallen men.

“Our sacrifice wasn’t in vain, then. We saved a monster like you, after all.”

“…”

I said nothing.

It was better to keep my secret from him, for all time.

Better for him to believe he lost his squad defending a mage who would save humanity, than to have died protecting a worthless level 1.

Silently, I stared blankly at the deserted graveyard, and the sunset burning beyond.

With those words, Rex carefully climbed the slope and laid a single, pure white flower on each of his men’s graves.

“It seems you have paid your respects thoroughly. What is it that keeps you here?”

Rex asked, returning to me.

I remained mute, as always.

Because I didn’t truly know why I couldn’t bring myself to leave this place.

“…I just, if I hadn’t hitched a ride on that cart… wouldn’t they all still be alive…? That’s what I keep thinking.”

I blurted out my scattered thoughts.

“The Archlord moved to target you. Had you not traveled with us, you would be dead.”

“…Perhaps so.”

“Don’t carry guilt. Protecting humanity is our task, and you too are a continental, deserving of our protection.”

Rex placed his thick hand carefully on my shoulder and continued.

“We take pride. The fact that we saved a genius who will change the course of the war fills us with pride, but more importantly, we are warriors brave enough to give our lives to protect one boy.”

“……”

“We would have protected you even if you weren’t a genius.”

Rex spoke to me, sitting blankly on the bench and staring only at the graveyard, before getting up from his seat.

“……As an aside, I have no intention of retiring. I plan to receive a dwarf prosthetic and become an even stronger warrior.”

“You lost an arm, isn’t that pushing yourself too hard?”

“The Sword Saint chose to save us instead of killing the Archduke. To prove that our benefactor’s choice wasn’t foolish, I have no choice but to become stronger and save more people, wouldn’t you agree?”

Rex spoke, touching the area where his arm had been severed, from where he stood.

“I can’t stand the thought of the person who saved me being treated like a fool. As soon as I receive the prosthetic, I plan to return to the army immediately. Gaining experience, fighting against stronger opponents… Someday I will grow into a brave and strong warrior capable of protecting you.”

Rex was a brave, righteous, and proud warrior, unlike me.

“Next time we meet, I should call you General. I shall salute you first.”

“……What’s your squad designation?”

I asked Rex, who was about to leave, one last time.

“Capital Defense Division, 1st Infantry Regiment, 6th Squad.”

Rex answered simply, nodded his head, and left.

6th Squad.

I owed them my life.

There must be no smearing the faces of the dead.

As soon as I confirmed Rex’s retreating figure had vanished, I rose from the bench and returned to the carriage.

Inside, the servant who had been waiting for me patiently for hours remained.

“Tomorrow, could we perhaps depart on a campaign?”

I inquired of the servant as he descended from the carriage to open the door for me.

“A campaign, you say? And where would you be thinking of going?”

“I intend to journey to the Enker Highlands.”

“Hana Bin-nim, that place is…”

“I know what’s there. There’s no need for a large contingent. Just prepare a single squad of infantry.”

I spoke with a clipped tone, as though I didn’t wish to prolong the conversation, and the young servant asked me no further questions.

Originally, I had planned to adapt to life within the castle for a while, to build up my strength even a little more before setting out on a campaign…

Having resolved to live as a prodigy, there was no way I could allow Rex to overtake me, was there?

* * *

On the way back to my lodgings, the twilight had already faded, and a bright moon and starlight adorned the completely darkened night sky.

Alighting from the carriage, I slowly headed into the castle with another servant who had come to greet me. The place was so vast that even after getting out of the carriage, I still had quite a walk.

“You’ve arrived!”

“You’ve arrived!”

The guards at the main castle gate did not bow their heads in greeting as they would to important dignitaries visiting the castle.

Instead, they offered a crisp salute, as they would to their superior officer.

The moment I became a party member of the Sword Saint. I was conscripted as a member of the allied forces.

The party members who fight alongside the Sword Saint, both a weapon of final decision for humanity and a living, breathing continental power… they’re treated as soldiers with the rank equivalent to, say, a three-star, perhaps even a four-star general in our own military.

It was only a week ago I was a composer wannabe, holed up in my room, and now, out of nowhere, I’m a four-star general.

A promotion like this… unheard of.

“We heard you’re leaving tomorrow, sir.”

I’d asked them to take care of things, sure, but I never expected the news to spread this fast. My eyes widened involuntarily.

“Ah… So everyone’s heard about the arrangements for tomorrow?”

“Yes, sir! We have!”

Truthfully, given my rank, way above theirs, I could have just ordered them directly, pressured them to have a few men ready by tomorrow.

But instead, I relayed the message through the servants within the compound, men with some standing.

I even emphasized they should remember to use the word ‘request.’

There’s got to be some kind of ‘seniority’ in this world, too. Imagine some unknown parachute, a newbie like me, suddenly becoming your superior and barking orders directly.

They might not show it outwardly, but they’d be cursing me out inside, no doubt.

It’s never good to incur their resentment. In a life-or-death situation, who knows if they might just abandon me and run? Humans are unpredictable animals when their lives are on the line.

Tomorrow, I’ll have to entrust my life to these soldiers, or others like them, so there’s absolutely nothing to gain by making them dislike me.

You never know. If I treat people poorly just because of my rank, they might spread rumors about the “new parachute guy being a real jerk” on their way back to the barracks after guard duty tonight.

‘If you’re a parachute, act like one.’

It never hurts to be careful. Building a good reputation with those around you can only benefit you.

“Thank you. I appreciate you accepting my request so readily, even on such short notice.”

And so, I decided to treat every soldier I encountered with the utmost courtesy and kindness.

“Not at all, sir! You’re going to be the future of humanity! We’re perfectly fine! Even though it’s not our platoon being assigned tomorrow, they won’t harbor any complaints either!”

“That’s right! Feel free to command us! We’re all soldiers gathered here to protect humanity!”

I bowed my head to the two guards whose voices, even this late at night, were tearing through the air, and stepped inside the castle walls.

“Master Vin, you have a visitor.”

Barely had I passed through the massive main gate and begun to straighten my back when the voice of the middle-aged servant who’d shown me around on my first day reached me.

“A visitor? Ah.”

Probably a tutor, meant to give me proper instruction, seeing as I hadn’t even learned a single spell yet.

*They found one sooner than I thought*, I mused lightly, and began to walk, following the middle-aged servant’s lead.

“Ah, at last!”

Standing in the absurdly large reception room on the second floor was a magician draped in a blue robe, his white beard a striking feature.

“Greetings, I am Alter Heindel. An Eighth Circle magician, and formerly, the master of the Heter Magic Tower.”

I almost let out a burst of incredulous laughter at the sudden arrival of such a VIP.

Alter Heindel. A human-born hero who revealed himself from the game’s later stages, radiating his presence.

A master of the electric school of magic who had reached the level of a high-ranking Seventh Circle magician at the mere age of fifty-two.

The youngest tower master in the history of the electric school to have erected a magic tower bearing his own name, and a seasoned giant who, even after building his tower, did not neglect his training, ultimately reaching the level of the Eighth Circle.

The arrival of a named magician hero who has published countless papers and leads the development of the electric magic academia at the forefront.

…And yet, his self-introduction grated on my ears a little.

“Huh? *Formerly* master? Then… you aren’t the tower master now…?”

I asked, gazing at Alter’s knowing smile framed by his profuse white beard.

“I heard that your foundations are nonexistent. It seems that in order to properly instruct someone like Master Vin, I would have to leave my tower for an extended period and live in the capital… well, I passed it on to someone competent, so you needn’t worry too much.”

“…”

Alter Heindel was currently telling me that he had boldly abandoned the magic tower he had built from the ground up, simply to teach me.

……This is unbelievably awkward.

That the twilight of a great mage’s career would become entangled in such a way.

“Ah, and let us introduce ourselves. This here is my apprentice, one I couldn’t bear to leave back at the Magic Tower, so I brought her along. Not quite on par with Bean, of course, but as my personally chosen apprentice, her talent is undeniable.”

Beside Alter stood a young woman with skin as white as snow and large, expressive eyes.

Perhaps possessing a naturally shy disposition, she offered a quiet greeting, barely audible, never quite meeting my gaze.

Long, golden hair cascaded down her back, and though a baggy robe and ill-fitting hat attempted to conceal it, her ethereal beauty possessed a magnetic pull, captivating all who beheld her.

She appeared to be in her early twenties, perhaps twenty-one at most.

I was inwardly marveling at her considerable loveliness when, from beneath the shadow of the oversized hat, a pair of long, pointed ears revealed themselves.

‘……An elf?’

In the game I so obsessively played, elves were invariably raised as archers.

Their innate agility and exceptional senses made them ideal snipers, capable of accurately targeting enemies hundreds of meters away. Furthermore, their skills as scouts, detecting threats on the battlefield, were unparalleled.

‘An elf…a mage?’

There was simply no merit in raising an elf as a mage.

I had even holed myself up in my one-room apartment and experimented a few times, but the elf’s inherent racial traits proved too dominant, yielding only a few viable ranger-derivative builds. Most mage builds were, in essence, worthless.

But reality differed from the game.

Reality, in its cruelest form, sometimes gifted talent alongside an incompatible environment.

Just as I, with my musical gift, was born into a family of physicians, forcing me into a near-exile at the tender age of seventeen.

An elf gifted with magical talent?

Enough for Alter Heindel, a named mage, to take her as his apprentice?

Any player of this game would inevitably ask, “But…why?”

But the question that sprang to mind was, “Just how…?”

“…I want to try it too.”

How on earth do you build something like this? If I could meet the creator who crafted this being before my eyes, I’d go find them and ask right away.

What stat distribution did you use?

How many types of magic can you learn, and what starting region did you choose?

“…I am twenty-one years old, and my name is Lire… I am a Fourth Circle mage.”

While I was seriously considering asking the elf who her parents were and where they might be, her small voice echoed in my ears.

…Twenty-one years old?

An elf?

The fact that she was only twenty-one years old was even more shocking than the fact that an elf was a mage.

Isn’t it a cliché to tack on absurd ages like 1000 or 2000 years to add an air of mystery to your average elf?

Wasn’t the immense age hidden behind that pure and beautiful face the very identity of the elven race itself?

When you create an elf character in a game, the tutorial starts at a base age of 500 years, or even 900 in some cases.

“…This is insane.”

I gazed at the young elf mage before me and even felt a sense of awe.

Until now, I had been nothing but a frog in a well…!

“…You said twenty-one years old, right?”

“Yes? Ah, yes…”

A being who shatters the prejudice that there is a significant discrepancy between an elf’s apparent and actual age.

A being who breaks my common sense that, having been born an elf, you must follow a ranger-derived build.

Merely existing, a being that shattered the unspoken rules of a medieval fantasy world.

Standing there alone, worthy of worship from every hipster in this world…!

“I’m Vin,” I said.

I seized the elf’s hand, shaking it forcefully up and down, forcing a handshake.

My weak arm muscles screamed in protest at the sudden exercise, but I didn’t care.

An elf whose face value matched her age? Where in this world could you ever find such an elf?

And her profession wasn’t even archer, but mage.

Imagine this elf being questioned in an interview.

‘Name?’

‘Lir.’

‘Race?’

‘Elf.’

‘Pfft… Age?’

‘Twenty-one.’

‘What?! And what is your profession?’

‘Mage.’

‘KaaaH!’

No hipster could compare to such a hipster.