Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 2 - Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

The Star Villainess’s High-Pitched Laugh

Caroline Simmons, the daughter of Count Norn, took her seat on the reception room sofa, where she’d been ordered to wait. She fiddled with the tassel on her folding fan, irritated. Her irritation was partly due to the bitter looks she was receiving from her two friends seated next to her. You were all for this plan, remember?! she thought to herself.

All she’d wanted to do was put Monica Norton back in her place—the girl had been showing off recently. Her seedy looks were a far cry from what was expected of a noble young lady, and her behavior was simply disgraceful. And yet, for some reason, she’d been appointed to the student council.

And to make matters worse, she’d received dancing instruction from Felix and Cyril—the two most popular boys at the academy. During last year’s school festival ball, Caroline had done her best to try and get close to them, but to no avail. They were always surrounded. Not only had she been unable to get them to dance with her, she hadn’t even been able to talk to them. All she could do was watch them from a distance.

…And yet… That little girl—why?! Caroline clenched her fan hard enough to make the spokes creak. Everything was Monica Norton’s fault. All Caroline had done was offer her some slightly bitter tea. But she’d made such a huge display of things and shamed Caroline in the process. What an awful, terrible girl!

Yes. She’s to blame for everything. Everything!

Caroline heard a snap from her hands. She’d cracked her fan. Oh, and now I’ve broken my favorite fan. I’ll have to get my father to buy me a new one. She knew he would—he’d help her. He adored her, and he’d donated a lot of money to the academy. She’d never be expelled over this.

There was a knock at the door. “Excuse us,” came a voice as two students entered the room.

One had softly swaying blond hair and mysterious sky-blue eyes with just a hint of green mixed in. The second prince, Felix Arc Ridill, always maintained a gentle, mild demeanor.

The other had silver hair tinged with a tiny bit of brown, like a drop of honey on winter snow. His eyes were a deep-blue color. Cyril Ashley, the son of Marquess Highown, was well known as the Icy Scion.

As the student council president and vice president, respectively, they stood at the very top of the academy’s social hierarchy.

Felix took a seat across from Caroline, then folded his hands on his lap. Cyril remained standing behind him, his cold eyes glaring down at the three girls. His expression was one of clear rage, while Felix retained his usual gentle smile.

Oh, I just know the prince will understand! thought Caroline, breathing a sigh of relief. He’ll know I’m not to blame!

Felix turned his soft smile on her. “Lady Caroline Simmons, do you have anything to say about your attempted assassination of Lady Monica Norton via poisoning?”

The words assassination and via poisoning were enough to make Caroline and her friends’ faces go white. Murder was severely punished even in noble circles, and attempting such a crime warranted a suitable penalty, even if the murder didn’t actually come to pass.

“You misunderstand, Your Royal Highness! It was just a little prank! Monica Norton made a big show out of it… She obviously wanted to shame me!”

“You would poison a classmate’s cup as a prank?” asked Felix. His voice was as calm as ever—and yet his words were chillingly merciless.

Tears formed at the corners of Caroline’s eyes as she began to plead. “That wasn’t poison! It was just eye medicine! It’s very bitter, and I heard it could work as a restorative… That’s it! I thought it might snap her out of all that trembling…”

She’d made up that last part on the spot. The peddler who had sold her the medicine had joked that it was very bitter, but that didn’t mean it made a good restorative. At the time, she’d scoffed at the absurd notion of putting eye medicine in your mouth. But she’d say anything now if it would get her out of this.

As she wove her frantic excuses, Cyril removed a small bottle wrapped in a handkerchief from his pocket. It was the bottle of eye drops they’d confiscated from her earlier when she was brought to this room.

“According to my younger sister, Claudia, the medicine you had is manufactured for use during eye surgery. Without a doctor’s license or a state-approved certification to practice medicine, you are not allowed to possess it.” There was a glaring light deep in his blue eyes as he glowered at Caroline. “Not only were you in possession of an illegal, dangerous drug, you fed it to someone else. If you won’t call that attempted murder, then what would you call it?”

Cyril’s sister, Claudia Ashley, was a direct descendant of the Lineage of the Wise. Her vast knowledge had earned her the nickname the Walking Library and outstripped even that of adults. If she had said that, it was most likely true.

The color drained from Caroline’s face, but she continued her desperate search for a way out. “Well, that’s… I had no idea the eye drops were so dangerous. I was only told that they were medicine for your eyes… Ah, Prince, please believe me!” she begged, tears rolling down her face.

Felix smiled softly. “Then you claim that you knew nothing, and put the eye drops in Lady Monica Norton’s cup as a simple prank.”

“Yes! That’s right!”

“To shame Lady Norton,” added Felix quietly.

Caroline immediately bit her lip and fell silent.

The prince leaned an elbow on the armrest of his chair and placed his chin in his palm. His blue eyes narrowed. “Then it’s defamation of character in addition to the rest.”

“……” Caroline knew she’d skillfully excused herself. And yet, Felix offered no words in her defense. Why didn’t he? Why wasn’t he helping her? At the moment, she still earnestly believed she could escape by claiming total ignorance.

And then there came a knock at the door.

“Enter,” Felix called out.

A female student walked into the reception room and curtseyed gracefully. She was a first-year student with curled orange hair, slightly stern yet beautiful features, and a dignified presence.

“I am Isabelle Norton of House Kerbeck. Your Royal Highness, I sincerely thank you for allowing me to meet with you today.”

Monica Norton had apparently been taken in by House Kerbeck. In which case, Isabelle, Count Kerbeck’s daughter, would naturally come to ask about the situation.

…But I should be fine, thought Caroline. Count Kerbeck’s daughter has a vehement hatred for Monica. She torments her. In fact, she’d actually witnessed Isabelle scolding her on one or two occasions. She won’t criticize me too much for something that happened to Monica.

The prince gestured to a chair, and Isabelle took a seat, then lowered her eyes apologetically. “I have heard that our problem child has caused everyone a great deal of distress. As a member of House Kerbeck, allow me to extend my heartfelt apologies.”

Felix and Cyril remained silent. Caroline, on the other hand, privately cheered. See? I knew it! Someone could outright kill Monica Norton and House Kerbeck wouldn’t bat an eyelash! She chuckled to herself. If Isabelle hated Monica, then that would make her Caroline’s ally.

Isabelle glanced over at her and offered a cute smile. “I know it won’t do for an apology…but my maid has prepared some tea for everyone. I’m sure you’re all thirsty from talking for so long. Please have some.”

She called out through the door. Her maid quietly entered the room and placed a cup-laden tray in front of Isabelle. She didn’t immediately distribute the tea, though, which struck Caroline as strange.

Isabelle then took a small bottle out of her pocket, pinching it and lifting it up so that Caroline and the others could see it.

And when they did, all three of them cowered. It looked exactly like the bottle of eye drops Caroline had possessed.

“Oh yes, I know. Since we’re all here anyway, I wanted to have you try this out. I bought it from a peddler recently… It’s a very effective beauty product,” she said, putting drops of the liquid into three of the cups. Her maid handed those without the drops to Isabelle, Felix, and Cyril—and the rest of them to Caroline and her friends.

When Caroline grimaced at her cup, Isabelle hid her mouth with her fan and tittered. Despite being hidden, her laughter was very clearly full of scorn and malice. Eventually, she said, “…Drink up, would you?”

Caroline stared at her cup. She couldn’t smell anything in it aside from the black tea. But her eye drops had been odorless, too. Is that bottle the same as mine? Why would the daughter of Count Kerbeck have something like that? It would be odd for her to conveniently have the same eye drops. This had to be a coincidence.

Caroline’s friends watched from beside her, waiting to see what she did. Neither of them made a move to touch their cups.

Stop this! thought Caroline. You’re basically admitting that the eye drops I had were poisonous!

It couldn’t have been the same bottle. Isabelle was bluffing. Caroline glared at her tea, then made up her mind and took a sip.

The bright flavor of the tea filled her mouth and nostrils. But moments later, an intense bitterness assaulted her tongue.

Caroline choked on it, then immediately spat it all out. She continued spitting, her saliva dripping everywhere, until she was sure that not even a drop of it remained in her mouth. Afterward, she leveled a murderous glare at Isabelle.

“This is poison! This woman just tried to poison me!”

“…Oh?” Isabelle chuckled, opening the lid of the bottle and pouring it into her own cup. Then, with a cool look, she downed the whole thing and smiled. “As I said, this medicine is a kind of beauty treatment. It is a little bitter, though, so I’m sure it must have surprised you.”

“Wh-why, you…!”

“Hee-hee,” she giggled. “At any rate, I’m quite certain it wasn’t so bitter that you needed to make that unsightly display of spitting it everywhere… And that girl drank all the bitter tea you provided, didn’t she?”

“That girl” obviously referred to Monica Norton.

Isabelle heaved a melancholy sigh. “She had such a pitiful upbringing—our family’s shame. However, I’ll admit she does at least know how to behave herself as a guest, considering she tried to finish her tea, no matter how poorly it tasted. However, it seems you can’t even manage that. What a shameless thing to do in front of a prince,” she finished, tilting her fan to cover her mouth again and letting out a nasal laugh.

Caroline had tried to embarrass Monica in front of everyone—and now Isabelle had successfully embarrassed Caroline in front of Felix.

What is going on? I hate this, I hate this!

Felix maintained his silence. He did, however, watch the exchange with an almost amused expression.

Isabelle started on her second cup of tea, relishing it. “Oh, and another thing,” she said casually. “I’ve taken the liberty of informing my father of this matter. She does still possess the Norton family name, and you have attempted to poison her. I assumed you wouldn’t mind.”

Only then did Caroline’s eyes go wide as she realized the full extent of what she’d done.

Isabelle might have hated Monica, but they still shared the same last name. Caroline had essentially just picked a fight with House Kerbeck.

“It’s such a shame…,” continued Isabelle. “House Kerbeck has long maintained friendly relations with House Norn.”

House Kerbeck’s was the largest domain in the Kingdom of Ridill’s eastern region. It was too big for anyone to deride them as mere country nobles. And with all the dragons in the mountainous region, those with eastern territories, like House Kerbeck, were constantly plagued by dragonraids.

The royal capital would send the Dragon Knights if requested, but it took time for them to travel to the east, so all the eastern nobles retained their own soldiers. And House Kerbeck’s forces were far and away the largest of them.

That was why, when dragonraids occurred and the Dragon Knights couldn’t make it in time, eastern nobles often requested help from the nearby House Kerbeck. House Norn—Caroline’s family—was no exception. Every time Count Norn’s territory had been faced with a dragonraid, they’d been helped by House Kerbeck’s soldiers.

What might happen if their daughter was to repay that kindness with hostility? What if Count Kerbeck abandoned Count Norn? With its meager military might, Norn wouldn’t be able to withstand the dragonraids. At worst, the entire territory could fall.

“Oh, I, uh…,” stammered Caroline, fussing with her hair. “No, I… This isn’t… Wait. I didn’t mean to… I didn’t… I…”

Isabelle flashed her a cold look. She was a year younger than Caroline but possessed an intimidating presence the older girl lacked.

The beautiful girl who had just torn Caroline’s pride to shreds continued. “Your thoughtless actions may lead to the ruin of your homeland… But that’s just how the social world works, isn’t it? Now, I want you to go back to the dormitory…and tell all your friends about what will happen if they make an enemy of House Kerbeck!”

Then Isabelle raised her fan and gave a light, high-pitched laugh.

“Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!”

After Isabelle Norton’s peerless performance, a teacher came to bring Caroline Simmons and her two friends to another room. Cyril saw them off with an icy expression.

Nothing was official yet, but the most appropriate move would be to expel Caroline as the perpetrator and force her two friends to leave the school of their own accord.

Caroline had never admitted fault, even at the very end. In fact, she’d tried to lay the blame at Monica’s feet in an attempt to evade punishment. She’d done the same thing when Monica had fallen down the stairs.

…How foolish, thought Cyril.

He’d observed the same thing with the former accountant, who also had to leave school—nobody seemed to realize that this academy was very much a part of the social world. They assumed their parents could just pay more money and make the problem go away.

How easy it would be if trust could be bought with money… Shallow fools.

Once Caroline had left the room, Isabelle straightened up and bowed to Felix and Cyril. “I’m sorry you had to see that, gentlemen.”

Isabelle’s demeanor was so changed, it was hard to believe she had been roaring with imperious laughter mere moments before. Girls are terrifying, thought Cyril.

But Felix responded with a tranquil smile. “It was quite enjoyable, actually. Do you think your father would truly abandon Count Norn?”

Isabelle shook her head. “No. I am certain he’d never abandon another territory for emotional reasons. It would bring harm to the kingdom as a whole.”

A crucial shipping route ran through Count Norn’s domain. If it was blocked by dragonraids, that could prove a serious issue. Still, Count Kerbeck was a tough customer. He’d probably use this incident to his favor in future negotiations with Count Norn.

Count Kerbeck was the most influential noble in the east, a region that not only bordered several other nations, including the Empire, but often fell victim to dragonraids. When trouble struck, the east would be on the front lines. Thus, the region’s military might was at least equal to the capital’s.

A rebellion from the east, then, would be the most difficult to deal with. Central nobles, fearing this possibility, wanted to decrease the eastern forces. However, the eastern nobles were resistant to any changes, constantly under threat as they were from both dragons and neighboring countries.

I’ve heard Count Kerbeck is a neutral party to the succession, backing neither the first nor the second prince… Cyril watched Isabelle closely.

Felix continued conversationally. “Oh yes. Speaking of Kerbeck, I heard about the Black Dragon of Worgan.”

“Yes, and we’re grateful to the capital for dispatching the Dragon Knights,” said Isabelle. “Truly, we must thank His Majesty for his swiftness and generosity in responding to the situation.”

Though Isabelle maintained a proper attitude, Felix took on a more jocular tone. “It seems your forces were enough even without the Dragon Knights, though, weren’t they?”

The count’s troops were accustomed to slaying dragons, so they often dealt with the problem before the Dragon Knights arrived. Felix was implying in a roundabout way that perhaps they hadn’t needed to dispatch them at all.

Isabelle, though, exclaimed, “Oh, not at all! House Kerbeck has certainly been fighting dragons for centuries, but we only confronted a black dragon on one other occasion, two millennia ago. We were only able to slay the Black Dragon of Worgan thanks to the assistance of the Dragon Knights and the Silent Witch.”

The Silent Witch—one of the Seven Sages. Cyril had heard of the genius young mage appointed to their ranks two years ago at the age of fifteen. He’d never seen the Silent Witch, but apparently she always wore a robe with a hood pulled low over her eyes, even during ceremonies, so nobody had ever seen her face.

A mage who hides her face…

Cyril’s hand unconsciously crept up to his broach. Something was stirring within him. He heard Isabelle go on, unable to contain her excitement.

“I saw her with my own eyes!” she said. “Just as she shot down an entire horde of pterodragons in an instant!”

Cyril’s heart began to pound.

…She shot down a horde of pterodragons in an instant? he thought. But that’s impossible.

Dragons were weak to the cold, but their bodies were very sturdy and resistant to mana, so most magecraft didn’t affect them. To slay one, you had to aim right between the eyes. But hitting a moving target on its forehead or between the eyes was an incredibly difficult feat, even for high mages.

And yet…

The events of that night a few weeks ago flashed through his mind.

He remembered the terrifyingly high-level magecraft that had shot down all his ice arrows in an instant. It had been so well-timed that chanting would have never worked. And yet, the person had waited for Cyril to fire before using their own precise spell.

Like a silent monster.

Could the same person have also managed to shoot down all those pterodragons at once, in the same way?

Cyril quieted the turmoil in his heart, trying his best to listen to Isabelle’s impassioned story about the Silent Witch.

After leaving the reception room, Isabelle took her maid, Agatha, and headed down the hallway. The students nearby threw glances at her—most of them filled with dread. Caroline must have already spread the word about her punishment.

“Are you certain about this, madam?” asked Agatha.

“I am, and I was quite prepared for it,” replied Isabelle.

Trampling on someone naturally created enemies. Isabelle had retaliated anyway. If she made sure everyone knew not to mess with House Kerbeck, nobody would interfere with Monica anymore.

The Silent Witch Monica Everett had saved the lives of everyone living in Kerbeck. When the black dragon had first been spotted in their territory, the people of Kerbeck had, to a man, cried out in despair.

Dragons brought calamity—and the most fearsome of them all was the black dragon. A black dragon’s scales repelled all magecraft, and it breathed the flames of the underworld itself, capable of incinerating all known defensive barriers. There was even a legend about how a past encounter had brought the entire kingdom to ruin.

But where the people had despaired, the Silent Witch had boldly strode into the Worgan Mountains, into the dragon’s nest, all alone. And she’d successfully defeated it. If that wasn’t a miracle, then what was?

For House Kerbeck, the Silent Witch was their savior. And yet, the mage herself had declined their offer of a warm welcome and left their lands.

So when the Barrier Mage Louis Miller had asked them to come to her aide, Isabelle had made up her mind. She would use every means at her disposal to repay the Silent Witch for what she’d done for them.

Upon returning to her private quarters and closing the door, Isabelle took a long look around the spacious room, putting a finger to her cheek in thought. “Agatha, we could fit a second bed in here, couldn’t we?”

“Yes—we could indeed,” replied the sharp-witted Agatha, immediately realizing what her charge was after.

Isabelle gave a proud snort and clenched her fist. “Then prepare one at once. My sister will need to take a break from her classes to convalesce. But I cannot take care of her in that attic room. Have her brought here, but don’t let any of the other students know.”

“I’ll make the arrangements right away, madam.”

“Thank you.” Isabelle chuckled. “Being in the same room as the elder sister I so adore… Ah, this must have wounded her in both body and mind. I shall have to comfort her! I wonder if she enjoys romance novels. I’d like to lend her one of my favorite series. And then we could speak at length about the books. Oh, how wonderful… Oh, and nightclothes! Prepare them as well, Agatha! Ones that match mine—cute ones!”

Isabelle’s eyes glittered as she made her requests, and Agatha, the ever-talented maid, nodded firmly. “Please leave it to me.”

After discussing Caroline’s treatment with the faculty, Felix headed straight to the infirmary. He wanted to check on Monica. But she wasn’t there—apparently, she’d returned to her own dormitory. He had been concerned whether she’d be able to manage the trip in her condition, but Claudia had been with her, after all, and she wouldn’t have let the girl do anything reckless.

Now that I think about it, I heard she lives in a room in the girls’ dormitory attic. Apparently, the daughter of Count Kerbeck had arranged for it. I would have liked to warn her not to torment the girl too much.

If Felix asked Isabelle the reason she bullied Monica, however, others would see it as a member of the royal family meddling with House Kerbeck’s internal affairs. Their family was very influential—and neutral. Even the second prince couldn’t easily interfere with them.

Either way, if Monica came crying to him about how Isabelle was torturing her, he could just spoil her the exact same amount. Having an obvious bully would make the little squirrel easier to tame.

Before, I’d hoped Cyril would fulfill that role…but he’s been soft on her lately.

Cyril had been the first one to pick up Monica when she’d needed to be carried to the infirmary—even though he’d run out of strength partway through. It was possible he had begun to see Monica as a little sister. Everyone knew what his relationship with Claudia was like, after all.

Felix chuckled to himself, recalling the two mismatched siblings’ amusing back-and-forth. As he did so, he caught sight of a familiar face. It was Elliott Howard, standing against the wall of the hallway with his arms folded across his chest. He was scrutinizing the prince.

“Hey, Elliott,” said Felix. “Was the Abbott Company matter resolved?”

Elliott stepped away from the wall and nodded. “Yes, and I’ve told those processing visitors to the campus to tighten up security.”

The thieves pretending to be from the Abbott Company had falsified the necessary documents of permission to get into the academy. That was how they’d waltzed right in from the front gate.

Elliott had insinuated to the real Abbott Company that those documents might well have been leaked on their end, which had very quickly won their agreement to all demands. As one of the few companies that dealt in fireworks and theater explosives, they were basically irreplaceable, so Felix was happy to have their cooperation.

“Criminal organizations have been using more and more advanced forging methods lately,” said Felix. “No harm in making the procedure stricter.”

“True,” agreed Elliott, the corners of his mouth rising into a mean-spirited grin. “Of course, no matter how much documentation or how many carts they get ahold of, and no matter how much they try to make themselves appear legitimate, none of it matters if the ones playing the part are buffoons.”

“Could you submit the rest in a report later? I’d like to head back to my room,” said Felix, starting to walk past Elliott.

“Hey,” the other boy called out, stopping him. Felix turned around; Elliott paused a moment before continuing. “…I heard Lady Norton made a show of herself at a tea party.”

“She’s the victim. The blame lies with Count Norn’s daughter. Or were you going to tell me that a commoner like her should have known her place and never participated in a tea party to begin with?”

Seeming surprised, Elliott snorted and shook his head. “Poisoning a guest’s tea and scorning them are shameful acts that ill befit a noble. I’m not about to defend the perpetrator.” He shrugged dismissively, but his tone seemed indecisive as he continued. “Although… There will be more who try to do similar things to Lady Norton. She is a commoner who was chosen for the student council, after all.”

Elliott pretended to be a thoughtless person, but deep down, he was the truest noble Felix knew. He would certainly never look down on the common people. He just had difficulty tolerating anyone who wasn’t fulfilling their normal role—whether they were a noble or not. Felix knew Elliott was probably the angriest of them all over the former accountant’s misdeeds.

“Elliott,” said Felix, “you said something before. Everyone has their roles assigned to them at birth—that nobles should act like nobles and commoners like commoners.”

“Yeah, I did. And that’s why I want to ask you this.” Elliott narrowed his eyes and sharpened his gaze. “Why did you make Monica Norton the accountant?”

“Because I don’t know what her stature is. And I think you’ve been feeling the same way, if perhaps unconsciously.”

Elliott frowned and fell silent.

With his usual calm smile, Felix continued. “She is far too extraordinary to be a common person. Assigning her the accountant role may yet reveal her true measure.”

The prince’s reasoning appeared logical, but Elliott didn’t seem convinced. His face, which normally sported a flippant grin, twisted into a hateful, sour expression. In a low voice, he said, “I’ll admit that Monica Norton isn’t ordinary. But that doesn’t change the fact that she doesn’t know her place.” He sniffed and put on a sardonic smile. “Do you know what I hate even more than those who don’t know their place? Those who don’t fulfill their own roles. That goes for everyone—royalty and commoners alike.”

His attitude could have been taken as disrespect, since Felix was a royal, but the prince wasn’t offended by it. Calmly, he answered, “You have my word that as long as I call myself Felix Arc Ridill, I will fulfill my role.” Then, much more quietly, a distant look in his eyes, he said to himself, “As long as I call myself that anyway,” before passing by Elliott.

This time, Elliott didn’t try to stop him.

Once he’d returned to his quarters and closed the door, a white lizard crawled out of Felix’s breast pocket. It slithered down his body until it reached the floor. Once there, its form blurred, transforming into that of a servant with combed-back hair—white with hints of blue.

The spirit Wildianu, having taken on the form of a human, lowered his gaze and bowed. “I, well… You’ve been through quite a lot today, Master,” he ventured, trying to be considerate.

Felix nodded happily. “Yes, but I’m in a rather good mood now. I got to hear about her again, after all. It’s been such a long time.”

“Her…sir?” asked Wildianu, perplexed.

Felix grinned. Just saying her name made his voice leap, unable to contain his joy. “The Silent Witch—Lady Everett.”

In the reception room, Isabelle Norton had spoken of her with utmost excitement.

“I saw her with my own eyes! Just as she shot down an entire horde of pterodragons in an instant!”

Felix had simply nodded and let her continue, but inside, he was thinking, Yes, I witnessed it myself…

Felix had undercover business in the eastern territories at the time. But the east was in chaos because of the black dragon, and the crowds of people evacuating their villages and towns had slowed him down.

He’d blended in with them to avoid anyone realizing who he was, and in a stroke of misfortune, he’d run right into the horde of pterodragons.

And that was when he’d seen it.

The pterodragons blotted out the sky. Their shrill, ear-piercing cries were hostile, making plain their fury. If one was to impulsively glide down, a simple scrape from its talons would be enough to fell thick-trunked trees.

The horde itself was like a natural disaster with a mind of its own. And these were large pterodragons—each of them bigger than a civilian house. The sight of them swarming in the air in such a huge group was nightmarish.

But a moment later, a gate opened up in the sky—the grand spell to summon Sheffield, King of the Wind Spirits. Wind rushed down from the gate’s open maw, glittering white, turning into spears and piercing each of the pterodragons between the eyes.

The pterodragon cadavers plummeted toward the earth, but the shining white winds engulfed them, slowing them, sending them fluttering into a pile on the ground like snowflakes.

Ah… Such a quiet, beautiful spell.

Felix had seen the Silent Witch several times before at ceremonies. But she’d always kept the hood of her robe low over her eyes, so he’d never gotten a look at her face. What’s more, she almost never appeared in public, hence her reputation as a particularly plain, inconspicuous member of the Seven Sages.

And yet, she is able to use such incredible magecraft!

His thoughts racing with the memories of what he had seen in Count Kerbeck’s dominion, Felix hummed a tune and took a key from his pocket. He used it to open a drawer, from which he removed a stack of essays.

Seeing this, Wildianu slowly blinked. “Are those essays written by the Silent Witch during her student days?”

“Yes,” replied Felix. “I asked a used bookshop I frequent to acquire them. This essay details the positional coordinates and their changes for extremely advanced magecraft…” He paused, then frowned, seeming a little disappointed. “But I suppose spirits like you don’t need to know anything about magecraft, do you?”

“No, sir. We can use mana intuitively, so magic formulae are beyond our understanding.”

Spirits could use mana as naturally as people could reach out and pick something up off a desk. Humans weren’t as innately talented, which was why they used spells—processes by which they wove magical formulae.

Felix ran his fingers lovingly over the essay’s cover. “Lady Everett has yet to reveal the underlying principles behind her unchanted magecraft, but there’s no doubt she is possessed of a brilliant mind. Although she wrote this essay while she was a student, once publicized, it completely changed the common understanding of wide-area spells. She single-handedly increased the accuracy and precision of magecraft by several orders of magnitude.”

“…When spirits such as myself target something with attack magic, we just aim and expel our mana without much thought.”

“Humans can’t ‘just’ use mana. Only by understanding its workings and putting together a logical formula can people employ it in the form of magecraft.”

Consider, for example, when one uses a fire spell to attack an enemy. A mage first has to determine the fire’s temperature, size, shape, and duration. To then shoot it at an enemy, they would also have to integrate velocity, angle, and flight distance into their calculations, making slight adjustments to account for weather and wind direction. Without working all those precise details into the magic formula, the mage wouldn’t be able to cast the spell properly. And if it went really wrong, the fireball could end up tragically exploding in their face.

“Magecraft requires incredible amounts of calculation. Humans chant for much the same reason complex equations require intermediate equations to solve. Once you’re used to it, you can abbreviate it to a degree, but you could never look at a complex equation and immediately know the answer, right? …But there is one human who can do that.”

A genius mage who could arrive at the optimal solution to a complex magical formula in an instant and thus didn’t need to chant—the Silent Witch.

When he recalled her robed figure from the ceremonies, Felix’s cheeks colored, and he broke into a smile. “I’d like to see it again, if possible—that perfectly calm, beautiful magecraft.”

He closed his eyes, replaying in his mind’s eye the scene of the giant magic circle splitting through the clouds, the gate opening in the heavens, and the shining white spears of wind. Those spears had plunged into the pterodragons’ foreheads, sending them hurtling toward the ground, killing them instantly, barely shedding any of their blood.

It was so merciless, so cruel, and so beautiful. And it had stolen Felix’s heart.

Felix gazed at the Silent Witch’s essay and breathed a sweet sigh. “Ahhh. When she shot down those pterodragons, how did she calculate their coordinate axes? Even current tracking formulae wouldn’t be able to aim at a target as small as their foreheads… I wouldn’t be surprised if the Silent Witch had developed a new tracking formula, but since the magic circles appeared directly above the dragons’ foreheads, I don’t think she used one at all. Which would mean she accurately determined the positions of twenty-four pterodragons and instantly triggered her spell, summoning a Spirit King and piercing their foreheads. But having a complete grasp of twenty-four targets’ positions and attacking them all simultaneously with a spell that powerful is simply absurd. Perhaps the Silent Witch has amazingly acute spatial senses—”

As Felix prattled on, forgetting to breathe, a troubled Wildianu finally interrupted him. “Excuse me, Master… Your tea is ready…”

“Oh yes, right. Thank you. Just leave it there, please.”

Wildianu set the teacup down in accordance with his master’s ambiguous instruction. Then, ever the serious sort, he added. “…My sincerest apologies, Master. My insufficient studies have left me unable to understand your words.”

“No, I’m the one who should apologize,” said Felix. “There’s nobody else I can talk to about this, so I tend to get a little excited.”

He flipped through the essay’s pages, scanning them. It was an extremely advanced, complex thesis, but he’d read through it so many times that he even knew where the smallest folds in the papers were. A simple skim over the words was enough to bring it all back to mind. He’d read it enough times that he’d practically memorized the whole thing. Over, and over, and over again.

“Though I feel as if I could get along well with Lady Isabelle, as a fellow fan of the Silent Witch…” The prince was outright calling himself a fan.

At this, Wildianu’s face grew troubled. “Master, you shouldn’t speak of magecraft with anyone else…”

“Yes, of course. I’m well aware. Publicly, I need to appear ignorant of it.” Felix smiled, looking slightly lonely as he pressed the essay in his hands to his chest. It was as though he were clutching a letter from his beloved—sadness dwelling in his narrowed eyes.