◆ Days of Study and Training
The Royal Academy of Magic, located in the capital, was—to put it mildly—an extraordinary place.
Its vast archives boasted an overwhelming collection of knowledge.
Its instructors were brilliant, patient, and dedicated.
The high-ranking noble students, my so-called peers, conducted themselves with proper decorum, adhering to the strict etiquette of nobility.
Time flowed with order and discipline.
And yet, my studies were far from easy.
The sheer volume of subjects to master was staggering, and magic itself—an art I had never encountered, not even in my past life—proved to be especially challenging.
Unlike most students, my magical aptitude was… unorthodox.
For reasons unknown, I struggled with traditional spellcasting.
Summoning a fireball, calling lightning, or even forming a simple orb of water—such spells, dazzling to the eye, were far beyond my natural ability.
Though I could manifest them in small forms, the scale and power failed to match what my innate magical reserves should have allowed.
It was a matter of control—one that could only be resolved through rigorous discipline.
“You must first master the flow of your own magical power,” my instructors advised.
“Only then can you truly wield the magic within you.”
And yet… it was easier said than done.
Seeking guidance, I met again with my instructors.
They studied my case carefully, analyzing my abilities.
At last, they arrived at a revelation—
“Your magic does not manifest as raw energy… but rather, it is attuned to the creation and modification of physical objects.”
Indeed, unlike the high-ranking nobles, who wielded overwhelming offensive magic, my abilities were more suited to craftsmanship—to the manipulation of matter itself.
Perhaps this was due to my bestowed technique—the divine gift that had set me apart from the aristocracy.
As my instructors deliberated, they drew parallels to the artisan class.
Many master craftsmen among the common folk were blessed with “techniques”, allowing them to forge magical tools and devices.
And I… possessed the same skill.
Unlike most students, I could shape iron with my bare hands, channeling my magic into its form and altering its structure at will.
Even with a single touch, I could set objects into motion, cause them to spin, vibrate, or shift in intricate patterns.
A remarkable gift.
However, my second technique, the “Warrior’s Skill,” was… far more difficult to comprehend.
At first, even my instructors were baffled.
They tested me in various martial disciplines—hand-to-hand combat, swordplay, spear techniques… yet my abilities proved unremarkable.
Yes, I could fight—but no more than any other well-trained student.
Despite my lineage, I was far from extraordinary in combat.
In truth, my scores in the knightly combat courses were disappointingly average.
“So be it,” I thought, accepting it as another limitation.
Yet, in my tactical studies, my abilities revealed their true worth.
When analyzing historical battles, I possessed a flawless memory, able to recall formations, strategies, and logistical structures with absolute precision.
More than that—as I studied warfare, new solutions and insights seemed to unfold in my mind, as though a hidden force revealed endless possibilities before my very eyes.
“You have the mind of a strategist,” one instructor murmured.
“No, more than that. The insight of a military statesman.”
“The perfect candidate for the Royal Army’s General Staff,” another remarked.
“Or even a military governor.”
“Perhaps it is simply the nature of a knightly house,” I said.
“We are raised to think in such ways.”
“No. This is beyond that,” the instructor refuted.
“Your noble rank may prevent you from joining the high command… but should you continue to refine this talent, you may yet find a path to influence.”
“If the right noble house recognizes your worth, they may take you in as a foster son, allowing you to rise far beyond your station.”
“Your brilliance is… truly astonishing.“
“It is more than I deserve,” I replied.
“If I can merely return home and assist my brothers, that will be enough.”
The instructor sighed, a hint of regret in his eyes.
“A shame. A terrible shame. But I understand your reasoning.”
“And perhaps… your low station may yet shield you. Great talent is not always a blessing—it can invite ruin just as easily as it invites fortune.”
“Nevertheless, you are a student of this academy. While you are here, you will be given every opportunity to learn. Knowledge is power, and so long as you remain here, you will be granted all that you seek.“
“Never forget, boy. You are a child of the kingdom. Your training never ends.”
“I will remember,” I answered.
“Knowledge and wisdom exist to protect the people… and to serve the king.”
“Good,” the instructor said approvingly.
“Then… I shall grant you access to the Forbidden Archives.”
“There, you will learn what history dares not reveal—the burdens of the past, the struggles of kings, and the sacrifices upon which this nation was built.“
“Study them well. Let them be your nourishment.”
“I am honored.”
“The wisdom of the past—the trials, sorrows, and sacrifices of those who came before—I shall take them to heart and make them my own.”
The instructor nodded in satisfaction.
Granting access to forbidden knowledge was no small decision.
Yet my reputation within the academy was strong, and thus, his choice would not be questioned.
However… outside the realm of study, my reputation fared far worse.
I did not need to be told.
I already knew.
The actions of my “fiancée” had cast a shadow over my name.
My instructor’s expression darkened.
He hesitated, struggling to find the words.
And then—
“…Your fiancée. Can you truly do nothing to restrain her?”
Ah.
So even here, it had become an issue.
I sighed.
It was to be expected.
Her behavior had disgraced the nobility itself.
Even among the sons and daughters of the aristocracy, there were limits to what could be tolerated.
And yet, she would not listen.
To her, I was nothing.
A man of lower birth than she—a mere knight’s son.
My words held no meaning in her eyes.
Seeing my frustration, my instructor softened his tone.
“I do not blame you. This is not your failure—it is hers.“
“We have already reported the matter to the higher authorities, yet no action has been taken. It is unclear whether they are watching… or merely waiting.“
“Perhaps they see her as a test—a means to observe those drawn into her influence. After all, what happens within the academy is rarely judged by the same rules as the outside world.”
“This place is meant for learning, even if that learning comes through failure.“
“But even so, there are limits.“
“I understand,” I said.
“I will do what I can to resolve this matter before it worsens.”
“Good,” the instructor replied.
“Take care, boy. This matter could bring ruin upon both you and your house.”
And so, I faced yet another trial.
Despite my efforts, my fiancée remained heedless of my words.
No matter how many times I warned her—
She simply laughed.
In the end, my words did not reach her.
And so, my heart grew heavy with both dread… and exhaustion.
A cruel test, indeed.
Perhaps this too was merely another trial imposed by the gods.