El was no fool, nor did he like to deceive himself. He could sense Vita’s feelings toward him.
However, he believed it was simply a junior’s admiration for her senior. In the academy, there were many who liked El, not a few of them noble ladies—Vita was just one among many.
Such feelings, how to put it… If one called them cheap, it would be too hurtful, but El also didn’t think Vita’s affections would last long.
Once she matured, she would realize that the El-senpai she had liked was nothing special after all. Such feelings would gradually fade, becoming nothing more than a youthful memory.
Precisely because of this, El was willing to accept the relationship between the two of them. In the future, they would become close friends.
Personally, he admired Vita’s character. From a standpoint of benefit, he could also win a powerful ally for his family.
After bidding farewell to Vita, El sat alone on a bench, letting the wind blow over him. So much had happened in these last two days that he felt a bit of a headache.
“Bzzz~ Bzzz~”
The communication stone in his pocket began to vibrate. Even before taking it out, El knew the call was from Karen.
Since the communication stone had a spiritual recognition function, its owner could sense who was calling.
Only two communication stones that had interacted at close range could contact each other.
At enrollment, every student was given a communication stone; they weren’t particularly valuable, but only professionals could use them.
“El, Professor Aubus is very angry. He told the principal about you skipping class. The principal asked me to inform you—go to his office right now, immediately.”
“You didn’t help me ask for leave?”
“You know his temper. He won’t approve leave an hour before class starts. More importantly, news about you strolling outside with your junior reached us before class even ended. You really should have seen his expression—so complicated.”
El was not some small fry who could disappear without anyone caring. Such a diligent and hardworking student, even teachers who had never taught him had heard of his good reputation.
For such a model student to skip his class—Aubus even began to doubt himself, wondering if his lectures were so bad that even El didn’t want to listen.
When Karen explained that El was helping to repair the monitoring crystal, Aubus finally breathed a sigh of relief.
But as soon as news came that El was outside, strolling with a junior, Aubus’s feelings immediately shifted to disappointment in his star pupil, hating iron for not becoming steel.
He realized he had to report this to the principal.
“All right, I understand.”
El accepted helplessly.
“I’ve passed on the message. By the way, there’s a result for the monitoring crystal issue.” “Who did it?”
“The Fierce Lion Society. They pushed forward three scapegoats and paid a hefty sum in compensation. Tsk tsk, I can’t figure out what they were after. They said it was to steal books from the academy’s library, but doesn’t that logic seem odd to you?”
The Fierce Lion Society was a club within the academy. They held some power but couldn’t compare with the official Student Council. Notably, almost all their members were supporters of the Second Prince.
Since El was considered a supporter of the Princess Faction, he didn’t get along with the leader of the organization, the second son of Duke Lavaud, Pino Lavaud.
“They have their own motives. It must be for something more important. In any case, as long as nothing happened, it’s fine.”
“That’s true. Well then, get moving. Your teacher is waiting for you.”
Karen hung up the communication stone.
“What a hassle…”
El muttered as he stood up from the bench.
Soon, he arrived at the principal’s office and knocked on the sturdy, antique wooden door.
“Come in.” An aged voice came from within.
El pushed open the door and entered. He was long familiar with the principal’s office.
Its decor was not extravagant; portraits of previous principals hung on the walls, and a tall bookshelf stood beside them. The atmosphere was more like a scholar’s reading room.
An elderly man with snow-white hair sat in a recliner, eyes half closed, hands folded, his thick white beard nearly trailing to his chest. He looked like nothing more than a kindly old man.
Anthony, Sage of the Leon Empire—his magical prowess was renowned as the greatest, a legendary mage born in an era of peace, and also the principal of the Royal Academy.
Professionals were divided into four tiers; the rank of “Legend” was not above Master, but independent, distinct from the simple hierarchy of strength.
As long as one met the requirements, even a Gold-rank professional could become a Legend, though in combat, they might lose to an ordinary Master.
To become a Legend, on one hand, one needed to have life experiences that the world’s consciousness would recognize as legendary. On the other hand, one needed fame, with deeds known far and wide.
Once one ascended to Legend, they would grasp an authority of the world; other than that, there was no difference from regular professionals.
Typically, a Legend had to have a powerful foe—they must overturn something, or defeat something. Only a truly remarkable story would be recognized by the world and spread among the people.
But Anthony had no particularly dazzling experience. Born a commoner, a diligent student, he was noticed by a passing mage and taken as an apprentice, then climbed step by step to Master.
A mage’s rise required neither blood nor fire—only knowledge and a heart that could withstand loneliness.
If the story had ended there, it would have simply been a tale of a commoner mage’s rise—perhaps fodder for drunken conversations, but not worthy of the title “Legend.”
But Anthony was not content. He shared his knowledge, wrote books and established schools, improved foundational magic education, and spent decades delving into the mysteries of magic.
He trained many students, selflessly imparting knowledge.
Gradually, Anthony’s fame grew. People realized that all of the old mage’s students became esteemed high mages. They propagated Anthony’s theories and inherited his teaching habits.
Some nobles traveled from far-off fiefs to study under Anthony. His students spread throughout the Empire, all singing the praises of his erudition.
The entire magical world flourished, and everyone knew Anthony’s contributions were indispensable.
The previous emperor of the Leon Empire personally invited him to become principal of the Royal Academy, and Anthony gladly accepted. Teaching and research had become the greatest parts of his life.
He invested much of his income into building new schools—not just in the Empire, but across the entire continent, all knew of the learned old mage of Leon, honored as the “Sage.”
His reputation was sung by bards far and wide, until one day Anthony discovered that he had become a Legend.
The old mage valued El’s talent. Though he had many students, he paid special attention to El—the so-called “personally taught disciple,” perhaps, was just like this.
“Well, look who’s here—my most accomplished student, El Regis.” Anthony smiled as he spoke.
…I really wish you’d say that publicly.
“Shh—keep your voice down. We can’t let the others know. Your strength still doesn’t match that title, but I believe the day will come. Then, I’ll be able to proudly declare you as my best student.”
Anthony lowered his voice, as if someone really was eavesdropping.
“Thank you for your kind words.”
“Ahem… Back to the point. Aubus told me you’ve started skipping class to go out and play with female classmates. Is that true?”
“Well, it’s like this…”
El tried his best to explain the situation to the old mage.
“I see… As long as you’re aware of yourself, it’s not as bad as I imagined. I’m not that old-fashioned—skipping class to relax a bit is fine. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard; only by pacing yourself can you go further.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not as fragile as you think, and I certainly won’t become conceited.”
Previously, Anthony noticed El nearly missed his entire lecture. He thought El had grown arrogant and no longer wanted to hear his theory classes (though, with El’s level, he indeed didn’t need to).
But when Aubus’ message arrived, Anthony realized something was amiss.
What he feared most was that El had finally lost heart and was planning to give up magic.
Anthony cared dearly for this student. El’s diligence reminded the old mage of his younger self, but El’s innate deficiency in magical power made Anthony worry.
El’s magical talent far surpassed his own.
Though the world praised the Sage’s magical accomplishments, Anthony knew in his heart that if he possessed any talent, what truly brought him to where he was today was diligence and a love for magic.
El was different. A 21-year-old upper Gold-rank mage—Anthony was only just Silver at that age. He firmly believed El’s future achievements in magic would surely surpass his own.
He encouraged El, telling him that once his magic reached a high enough level, he’d surely find a way to solve his mana issue.
Children at this age are fragile. Anthony worried El might despair over some setback. Now it seemed he’d been worrying too much.
“In that case, I have nothing else. I just wanted to have a chat with you. Do you have any questions for this old man?”
El hesitated, unsure whether to speak up.