Youngest 037
by CristaeEpisode 37
‘How did this happen…?’
I stared blankly at the training ground, where a dry wind was blowing.
‘How did it come to this…?’
Standing there alone was my mage friend, who also happened to be the second male lead and a little mercenary.
“Let’s begin the admission test.”
Uncle Oberon, who had returned at some point, spoke in a solemn voice. Standing next to Khalid were two young men, their faces drawn tight with nerves.
“Three applicants for admission!”
Grandfather couldn’t hide his excitement, snorting loudly.
On my other side sat Mister Leviathan, bearing the stern expression of a strict dormitory supervisor.
Appearing without warning, he had taken Khalid’s blood-signed letter and asked a few simple questions.
“You have experience as a mercenary? At twelve years old?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not serious.”
“……”
“Were you a child soldier in the kingdom?”
In that moment, only Khalid knew the cold sweat trickling down my spine.
“I’m not a mage. I only ran a few errands for a wandering mercenary band.”
“I see. You met Ruby in Eosia?”
“That’s right.”
“Then let me ask—”
“Yes.”
“What’s Ruby’s least favorite food ingredient?”
“Bell peppers. The green ones.”
“What’s Ruby’s favorite thing?”
“Baths. And a warm, cozy bed afterward.”
“And what does Ruby—”
“Excuse me, is this a quiz show?”
“It seems you really are friends.”
…Somehow, the interview had turned strange halfway through.
In any case, in the meantime, two more applicants had arrived.
By custom, Mister said they each needed to pass a simple entry test.
‘But I don’t remember taking a test?’
Hmm, maybe I was a special recruitment.
Anyway, to be honest, I was anxious. It was nice to have Khalid by my side, but having two kids in hiding meant—
‘That’s twice the risk of exposure!’
Mister Leviathan cleared his throat, starting to speak, perhaps misreading the gloom on my face.
“Ruby, sorry, but our knighthood doesn’t hire based on connections.”
Ah! Those were the words I wanted to hear! Down with personal ties, school ties, and bloodlines!
“Of course! We should only admit the best, strictly and fairly—”
“Everyone who submits an application is accepted.”
My mouth snapped shut. Mister merely shrugged, answering calmly.
“Staff shortages.”
Damn… I overlooked that.
Grandfather was now practically bubbling like a pressure cooker.
In the center of the training ground, Uncle Oberon stepped forward.
“It’s a simple formality, but a necessary test to gauge your abilities. Don’t be nervous—just do your best.”
“Yes, sir!”
The applicants straightened their shoulders and answered.
The cocky Khalid just looked down at the ground with a distant expression.
“Well then, take up your wooden swords. This will be a simple mock battle.”
Uncle Oberon handed out wooden swords dusted with white powder.
“There aren’t many rules. Whoever gets the most powder on their clothes loses.”
All three wore black protective gear. Indeed, it was the optimal way to measure skill without injury.
“So, you—Khalid… and Edwin. Is that right?”
“Yes, sir! Edwin Cowell! I traveled all the way from the distant east, inspired by the feats of the great Leviathan!”
That ‘hero’ was beside me, feeding me walnut pie.
“I see. You’ve told me your motivation, even though I didn’t ask. Pick up a sword.”
“Yes, sir!”
Khalid and Edwin faced each other on the training ground, wooden swords at the ready.
“Hey, kid, what do you think of that youngster’s skills? Hm? Is he any good?” Grandfather asked, shifting excitedly. After a moment’s thought, I replied,
“Hmm… Well, he should at least have the basics down.”
No, he would be much more than that.
Khalid was an ‘unregistered mage’ from the Mage Kingdom. In order to evade the kingdom’s watchful gaze, he had long since learned how to survive without magic.
‘Judging by how he was always more interested in swordsmanship than magic with all its restrictions…’
I shouted inwardly, knowing he couldn’t hear me.
‘You’d better hold back and not show your true abilities, understand?!’
Of course, the boy standing in the wind offered not a flicker of response.
Soon, at Uncle Oberon’s signal, the match began.
‘Just… don’t suddenly rush in like a gale and flatten your opponent in the blink of an eye, got it? Never, ever do tha—huh?’
I blinked, puzzled.
Thud. The walnut pie I’d been holding slipped from my hand.
“…Kid? Didn’t you say he had the basics?”
Grandfather’s voice beside me sounded perplexed.
“Uh, well… I thought so?”
“He hasn’t even mastered the basics.”
Mister added, handing me a fresh walnut pie.
Exactly.
“What’s he… doing?”
A gust of wind blew.
Khalid was happily getting pummeled, his clothes covered in white powder.
The first round ended in Edwin’s overwhelming victory.
I stared blankly at Khalid as he brushed off his clothes.
‘Did his sword skills degrade…?’
It was hard to say. But the way his brows furrowed in frustration—something was clearly not going as he planned.
Strange. He wasn’t like this before.
I knew Khalid’s skills better than anyone. Whenever there was a chance, he’d helped me from behind when I was stationed with the mage corps.
‘We fought so many Dark Beasts together.’
The Mage King, heavily criticized for the child soldier issue, only pretended to assign young mages to rear support roles at first; later, it wasn’t so.
‘He simply sent us in first under more cunning guises.’
We’d be sent ahead before the operation to scout for Dark Mage traces or secretly dispatched to unknown Dark Beast habitats.
As a result, along with rear support, I’d always carried out the Mage King’s secret assignments.
Before I realized this was a world inside a novel, while I was still brainwashed into being his puppet, I hadn’t even recognized how grueling it was…
‘Which makes it all the more cruel!’
To have lived my life exploited without even realizing I was being exploited—how unfair is that!
‘Sigh.’
I let out a short breath and forced myself to shake it off.
Nothing would change by dwelling on it, so I needed to focus on what was happening before me.
‘Still, Khalid really is acting strange today.’
I frowned in concentration, forgetting even to eat my pie.
Meanwhile, the second round was beginning.
This time, Khalid faced Delmon, who was even larger than Edwin.
And yet, once more…
“Begin!”
He quickly became a powder-covered mess.
“His movements are a bit sluggish,” Mister murmured beside me.
“He doesn’t look it at all.”
Delmon bellowed as he swung his wooden sword. Khalid hesitated, taking a glancing hit to the shoulder. With the protective gear, he wouldn’t feel much impact, but the boy’s face was deeply dissatisfied.
He looked as if to wonder, ‘What’s wrong with me?’
“Hmm…”
Mister Leviathan, who had been slouching, slowly straightened his back.
“He said he was with a mercenary band, didn’t he?”
“Yep.”
Grandfather clicked his tongue.
“And yet with that level of skill, it’s a miracle he survived.”
“No way…”
Muttered a voice from behind Mister, where Sir Leon was watching the match.
“Sir Leon?”
He glanced briefly around, then fixed his gaze on the walnut pie in my hand.
“What? Hungry?”
“I’ll borrow that for a moment.”
What? Perplexed, I handed over the pie. Sir Leon accepted it without hesitation and, with a flick, hurled it straight ahead.
Imbued with a hint of killing intent—as if he were throwing a dagger.
“…!”
In that instant, Khalid, who had been slumping, snapped his head up and locked eyes with me.
I saw a keen light flash in the boy’s once-dull eyes. At the same moment, he kicked Delmon’s shin, throwing him off balance, and drew a knife hidden at his ankle.
Thwack!
The knife, dead center through the walnut pie, flew straight toward Sir Leon.
“That little—!”
Sir Leon’s sword flashed from its scabbard, striking the spinning knife with a metallic clang.