Youngest 053

Episode 53

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“Did you not sleep last night?”

I asked abruptly. Khalid, his face oddly prickly, raised one eyebrow at an angle.

“I slept well.”

“No, you didn’t. That’s exactly the face of someone who’s been on watch all night.”

As I narrowed my eyes and approached, Khalid quietly turned his head away.

“The bell.”

“……”

“Switching shifts, that’s all.”

He’s dodging the question.

Well, it’s obvious—he probably spent the night playing with his animal friends.

‘I’ll just let it slide.’

I glanced at the squirrel sitting primly atop Khalid’s head. The squirrel, chewing on an acorn, met my gaze and tilted its head.

“He’s so cute.”

“……Right.”

“Hm?”

“Here.”

Khalid swiftly handed me a scroll. When I opened it a little, I saw it was a set of new blueprints.

I quickly tucked it inside my jacket so the other seniors in the training hall wouldn’t see.

“But what now? Mister Maddox barely reacts to any blueprints at all these days.”

“Click of the tongue—he’s being picky.”

That was true. Lately, the production of magical tools had run into unexpected difficulties.

“Miss Ruby. This is terrible. I think I’ve gotten so used to those stimulating blueprints you gave me that nothing short of them gets my heart racing anymore. I have been completely corrupted…”

Right—Mister Maddox had become addicted to dopamine. With some effort, I’d managed to keep him distracted, but sooner or later, I suspected he’d hit his limit.

“I only need to make two more. I guess I can manage one with these blueprints…”

It’s the other one that poses a problem.

Hmm, I folded my arms and thought for a moment.

Khalid tapped his wooden sword on the floor, sounding nonchalant.

“Don’t rush. The tracking mages are quiet right now. By the way…”

“Hm?”

“The Babylon outpost mage has made a move.”

Outpost mage? As I parted my lips slightly, Khalid searched his memory and continued.

“You know? Those mages who have permission to live in other countries.”

“Oh, right. I remember. They’re called outpost mages because each major outpost has one.”

“They have to make things so complicated, really.”

Mages, by default, could only live within the kingdom. But some mages, with the king’s permission, were allowed to emigrate to other countries.

Setting aside the kingdom’s supposed humanitarian issues related to child soldiers, mages with extraordinary powers were generally treated with respect wherever they went.

Moreover, their mage units had made significant contributions in the recent war, only solidifying that reputation.

‘Zevert’s hatred of mages really is unusual.’

Though, to be fair, he has his reasons.

At any rate, outpost mages lived in other lands and provided whatever magical assistance those lands required.

And in exchange, they secured what Arcadia needed—be it information, supplies, or whatever else.

‘Arcadia’s an isolated island, after all.’

That was how it maintained its link to the continent.

I stroked my chin in thought.

“But didn’t Babylon only have mages in the east and south…?”

“He said it was the east.”

Because the land of Babylon was low in mana density, there weren’t many outpost mages there. And even then, only the lowest ranks were assigned.

‘If it’s the east…it must be that one.’

Maybe this could solve Mister Maddox’s dopamine addiction…

“But how do you even know about the eastern mage? Has your reconnaissance familiar returned?”

“Well…”

Khalid avoided my gaze, scratching his cheek. My sharp eyes narrowed.

“You’re not going around just flinging spells everywhere, are you? What’ll you do if someone finds out you’re a mage and the kingdom drags you off?”

My voice was a little downcast. A sharp glint flickered in his pale blue eyes.

“Then I’d kill them all and come back, obviously.”

“There you go again, acting all tough…”

Come to think of it, Khalid might be coming down with a case of adolescent syndrome.

I hope it doesn’t get too bad…

“All right, I’ll think about what we should do.”

Finding Khalid still holding my wrist to channel mana, I straightened up with a heave.

“Where are you going?”

“Miste—No. Ah, well, it’s time for baran tea.”

If I missed dessert time, he’d sulk, and he’d make me pay for it later. Skipping was strictly forbidden.

Taking this in, Khalid fastened his bracelet and straightened his posture.

“Hey, Ruby.”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you just tell the truth about your gender?”

“What?”

I darted my eyes about. “No one’s here,” Khalid whispered under his breath.

“If you plan to stay, never mind being a mage—how long can you hide that you’re a girl?”

The face looking down at me was curiously displeased.

“You’re going to grow, too.”

Well…that’s true.

I’d grown at a surprising pace since arriving here—enough that I was amazed I hadn’t before.

Of course, I was still small for my age (so irritating), and compared to Khalid, who sprouted up like a bamboo shoot… I was dwarfed.

“Mm.”

I looked down at myself. The Zevert Knights’ uniform with its blue lion roaring on the chest. The neatly trimmed hair that Mister cut for me last night.

Sure, I’d keep growing, but no dramatic changes seemed imminent…

“If I just don’t take my clothes off, shouldn’t I be fine?”

It was a coldly objective analysis, but Khalid wrinkled one eye, looking unconvinced.

“We’ll see.”

There was a puzzling anxiety in his voice.

“Someone as cute as you, you’ll stand out no matter what.”

“Huh?”

“I mean—how could someone as pretty as you not be found out?”

“You mean that as a correction or what?”

“……”

Hmm. Suddenly embarrassed, I scratched my cheek awkwardly.

“Later. After I finish what I have to do.”

I had resolved to reveal all my secrets someday, but today wasn’t that day. I had things to take care of, right in front of me.

“Since everyone knows the fugitive mage is a girl, I’ll just set up a barrier and, when things are safer, then… And…”

I looked into the distance where the black Zevert manor stood like a painting.

“…Dad’s still so heartbroken he hasn’t even been able to visit the baby’s grave. He needs a little more time.”

And I needed a little more time to prepare myself.

“Hmph.”

Khalid’s lips parted, but he ended up saying nothing at all. I hurried my steps, waving my arms.

“Anyway, I’m off, Khalid! Train hard today! And don’t argue with the senior knights!”

Almost by reflex, Khalid waved back.

“Wouldn’t it be worse if she just gets found out like this…”

I missed his muttered, disgruntled words as he scratched the back of his head.

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Snack time—delightful as always!

Today, for once, Grandfather and Void were here too. They should’ve been busy with afternoon training at this hour.

It seemed they’d gathered because of the gold-embossed letter in Father’s hand.

“So, it’s here this year?”

“Yes. It will be held in Ipsen, the territory of Count Camelan.”

“That’s close by.”

“Hm? May I ask what this is about, Father?”

Void asked, pushing his cake far away with a face full of distaste.

Unlike most children, young Void had no fondness for dessert.

Odd, though—the one called Pepper used to eat anything gladly. An unexpected difference in taste.

“The Verdant Festival. It’s being held nearby this year.”

“Oh… Are you attending?”

“That’s…”

Seated at the head of the table, Mister—no, Father—wrinkled one brow. He didn’t look enthusiastic.

Grandfather, sitting beside him, snatched up the letter from the table.

“They’re bringing the Emperor and all the princes in tow? Ha! If you don’t go, it’s as if they’ll storm the place.”

His tone was weary. Draping his arms over the back of the chair like a gangster, Grandfather turned to the Duke.

“My son. Tell me you didn’t skip the victory banquet in the capital? Is that why they’re raising such a fuss?”

“Watch your mouth, Father. The children’s ears will rot.”

Oops. Quickly, Grandfather clamped a hand over his own mouth. Given the look in his eyes, he wished he could snatch those words back, but it was too late.

“Little chicks, forget what I just said, all right?”

“This is the first time I’ve heard your voice today, Grandfather.”

Void—he’s going to do well in society.

Ahem! Grandfather cleared his throat loudly and fluttered the letter again.

“The nobles must have raised quite a racket just to get a look at your face. So, what will you do? Are you going?”

“Well…is there really any need?”

From what I remembered, the Babylon Empire’s Verdant Festival was a significant event to mark the new year. It was customary for every member of a noble house to attend.

‘Subtle family rivalry, displays of power, political maneuverings…that sort of thing all takes place.’

In all of that, Zevert, of course, was an exception.

They were the empire’s preeminent house, a great noble family of legendary swordsmen, with power so absolute they had no need to care about such things.

So, Mister usually didn’t attend. And in recent years, the war had kept him away.

Grandfather, too, had used his health as an excuse not to go.

‘But not this time!’

I was determined to go, no matter what.

“Me! I want to go to the festival!”

I shot a hand into the air; all eyes turned to me, and I shrank under their gaze.

“…Ah, is it not allowed? If you—if Dad doesn’t want to, I can go alone, or…I mean, with the knights…”

“Leon, give me a pen.”

“Yes, sir.”

Without a moment’s reluctance, the pen moved.

Attendance: Confirmed.