Chapter 10.1

Translator: Lizz

 

The Iron Fortress was both a military force led by mages and an institute for magic research. The number of members was around two thousand, and they were divided into small units based on their skill level and research themes, each unit consisted of about twenty members. While large-scale military operations might require a different setup, regular missions were carried out by these units. Since their lives depended on each other, the bond among the mages in the same unit was exceptionally strong.

 

Upon joining the Iron Fortress, individuals were first assigned to units based on their compatibility and preferred types of magic. Until the selection process was complete, they were grouped together as ‘newcomers’ and received lectures from experienced mages to assess their proficiency in magic.

 

When Zechs started attending lectures, he was astonished at how his proficiency far surpassed that of other novice mages, both in knowledge and skill. The lectures were conducted by several professors, each focusing on their area of expertise in magic. While he couldn’t compete in their specialization, Zechs had knowledge across all fields. He was not feeling arrogant about this, though; he was purely surprised that his Master, who was usually regarded as a third-rate mage from the countryside, possessed knowledge surpassing even the nation’s top mages, and had passed it to him.

 

However, Zechs was careful not to let others know about what he ‘knew’. The young mages confined in the same room with him had already begun to direct looks of contempt and disdain toward him.

 

Many Seldians had jet-black hair and grayish eyes, with shallow, plain facial features. They were not particularly tall, and their bodies were generally sturdy and well-balanced. However, not everyone fit this description; in fact, Zechs was rather slender. Still, somehow, the fact that he was of a different ethnicity always got known wherever he went.

 

He didn’t especially want to make friends or expect such things at the Iron Fortress, but he couldn’t hide his disappointment at not being able to escape the eyes of discrimination, even in the nation’s top mage institution.

 

In any case, there were a few who had started to blatantly harassed him, and as such, he did not want to draw any more attention to himself.

 

Zechs’ attitude of avoiding interactions with others seemed to concern the professors a bit. After ten days at the Iron Fortress, the newcomers were about to be assigned to units. Though unsociable, Zechs exceptional abilities left the professors pondering how to handle him.

 

For some reason, the fact that Zechs’ Master was unknown also seemed to perplex them.

 

The name of Leon, who wasn’t even part of a Guild, was completely unknown. In the world of mages, there was a tendency to equate being unknown with being incompetent. When Zechs mentioned his Master’s name, the professors all had the same reaction: they blinked, shrugged, and upon learning that Leon was an unaffiliated mage, they smiled faintly as if they finally understood. That smile carried the same disdainful sentiment that Gill had expressed in his voice in Daza.

 

It couldn’t be helped that unknown mages were underestimated, but Zechs still didn’t quite understand how that related to his treatment.

 

At such a time, Dariesh visited Zechs from the professor’s office. Wearing the sash with the color and emblem specific to his unit, he found his junior apprentice among the mages who had not yet received their sashes. He handed over something wrapped in waxed paper. As Dariesh wordlessly thrust the package at Zechs, he appeared to be slightly angry.

 

“What is this?”

 

Even though they had studied under the same Master, there was no reason for Zechs to receive anything from someone he hadn’t exchanged proper words with.

 

“It’s from Master. If you don’t want it, throw it away.”

 

The displeased voice seemed to emphasize ‘You better not’, but Zechs was more surprised by the content of the words than by his senior apprentice’s attitude.

 

He took the package, hesitated for a moment, and then opened it. It was a book… No, a handwritten notebook. Inside, characters the size of a thumb were written, with diagrams and drawings scattered throughout. The moment he recognized them as letters, his head instinctively tried to reject them, but by enduring the discomfort and concentrating, he could slowly start to decipher them.

 

It contained explanations about magic. It covered the areas Zechs struggled with, and as he flipped through the pages, he found explanations of spells that had been left incomplete because he had left during his training.

 

“As long as Master hasn’t said anything, it’s not my place to interfere.”

 

Despite saying that, Dariesh looked as if he had something to say. Zechs could guess what he wanted to say.

 

Dariesh probably didn’t know all the details of why Zechs left Leon’s side. However, it seemed he knew that their parting wasn’t amicable. To Dariesh, who held Leon in high regard, Zechs actions must have appeared to be an unforgivable betrayal.

 

However, from Zechs’ perspective, he was the one who was betrayed. Leon should have known Zechs’ desire: to acquire the power and status needed to overcome the unreasonable pressures surrounding him. It was Leon himself who had suggested that Zechs go to the Iron Fortress for this purpose.

 

Upon coming to the Iron Fortress, Zechs realized that Leon had been teaching him in such a way so that he would not struggle when he got here. He also realized that Leon cared enough to send him such a notebook. This made it all the more unforgivable.

 

“Thank you for delivering this.”

 

He said in a stiff voice. Dariesh glared at Zechs at first, but eventually, he sighed in resignation and left.

 

It seemed that most of the newcomers had decided to ignore Zex. They didn’t talk to him, nor did they harass him. However, no matter where you went, there were always childish people who sought to confirm their own position by bullying others, and that was no different in the Iron Fortress.

 

There remained a deep-seated, outdated belief that the Seldians, who wandered the mountains without settling, were savages who wore animal skins and ate raw animal flesh. In reality, they were more like hunters or woodcutters who constantly moved through the mountains, but the misunderstanding remained because they did not deeply interact with the villagers. Since the cession of Cadenza, the number of those who descended the mountains and settled had increased, but they too were labeled as people who did not understand civilization and sinners who did not believe in God.

 

In Lille, not only was Zechs looked down upon for being a Seldian, but also for being a mage. When he entered a group full of mages, the insults directed at him were more about his ethnicity. Although the ignorant statements stemming from misunderstandings seemed to reveal the speaker’s own foolishness, it still made him angry. However, Zechs chose to ignore them to avoid causing trouble, as it would be endless if he responded to each one.

 

But from the other party’s perspective, even that attitude was not pleasing.

 

Among those who considered Zechs’ presence as non-existent, there were some who actively spoke to him. It was obvious from their faces that their actions did not come from friendly intentions.

 

When it came to the topics discussed by young mages, it could be said that they were limited to two things: their own abilities and their Masters. They constantly competed with each other, boasting about how they achieved success in the Guild and how they were apprentices of renowned mages. Since they did not belong to any unit, they were not given any missions or research, and had too much free time.

 

“Which Guild were you in?”

 

Zechs did not respond to the question directed at him, only giving them a glance. However, despite Zechs not answering, they somehow knew the answer.

 

“Speaking of Daza, it’s a rural town near the border, right?”

 

“Yeah, the Master is Aldo Klan. Well, they don’t have a bad reputation, but their skills are… meh.”

 

“But you sure know a lot about those rural mages, don’t you?”

 

“This guy just likes remembering such things, uselessly.”

 

“Well, it’s true that they have a big heart, accepting Seldians and all.”

 

“Is it true that Seldians can’t sleep unless it’s on a straw bed?”

 

“Come on, if that’s the case, the stables would be enough, right?”

 

The boys, who had been talking freely, turned to Zechs and asked, “So, what kind of Master do you have?” Discussing mages active on the front line was one of their favorite topics.

 

“I’m not Aldo’s apprentice.”

 

Although he strongly felt like ignoring them and leaving, there wasn’t much time until the next lecture, and it seemed troublesome to leave the classroom now. Reluctantly, he answered, and the boys who had surrounded him looked at each other in surprise.

 

“What, you weren’t in a Guild?”

 

“No, that’s not it. I did Guild work. But I wasn’t officially affiliated.”

 

“Is that even allowed?”

 

“Who knows? But in that case, who would be your Master? An instructor at the training facility?”

 

“I went to a private school. My Master was Leon Varden.”

 

It seemed that they had decided to bother Zechs to pass the time until the lecture. They kept asking questions, and Zechs, realizing he couldn’t escape, finally mentioned the name.

 

It was probably a name they hadn’t heard before, as they simultaneously looked at the boy who had mentioned Aldo’s name earlier. However, the boy shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, and sneered.

 

“Never heard of it.”

 

“Well, there’s no Guild that would want to take in a Seldian, and no one would want to take one as an apprentice either.”

 

“It’s probably a failed mage who has to take in even a Seldian as an apprentice.”

 

“There are those who you just want to tell not to call themselves mages.”

 

That was as far as Zechs’ memory went.

 

When he came to, his arms were being held in a lock, he was surrounded by shouts and screams, and the smell of rusted iron filled the air.

 

“Hey, take this guy to the solitary cell!”

 

When someone shouted that, Zechs was looking down at a boy who was groaning, holding his face with blood dripping from his hands.