Youngest 106
by Cristae106
Will this work?
I wasn’t sure.
First, how to use this…
My mind spun in circles.
Use this magic circle like so, and then…
Dissolve everything, root to stem… Ah. So it can only be used once per person. After that, resistance builds up, and drinking it again just improves your health… I see.
Digging up these new details, I picked up the herb.
As I gently infused it with magic, the green leaves trembled with joy.
“Sniff sniff. Smells like grass.”
A blueish aura wrapped the herb in a mist. Soon, the plant, now fully fused with magic, began to melt from the leaves down.
“Oh, it’s dissolving.”
I quickly glanced around and, spotting a mug, caught the liquid in it.
The finished herbal tea…
“Hmm… Looks like gruel spat out by a troll.”
The color was exactly like that.
Borvel’s health drink…
But that had tasted better than it looked, so maybe this would too?
I swirled the viscous liquid and cautiously touched it to my tongue.
“Urgh.”
I was wrong…
It really was troll gruel…
For about three seconds, I hesitated, wondering what would happen if I died drinking this.
But I was Rubian, the top-scoring, record-breaking child of the Festival of Verdure.
I won’t be defeated by something as trivial as taste!
“Bottoms up.”
Pinching my nose, I gulped the entire mug in one go. There were a few rough moments, but down it went.
Gasp—this sensation!
No sooner had I drunk the herb than warmth flooded my body.
The magic was working? Would memories come back instantly?
This kind of thing always follows a set pattern.
I hurried to bed and lay down like a log.
As soon as I closed my eyes, a mysterious energy enveloped me. I couldn’t resist the sleep overtaking me. Presently, the forgotten memories, like a dream…
“……”
Memory…
“……”
Like a dream…
“What the—!”
Nothing’s changed!
If anything, only the embarrassing moments I wanted to forget came into sharp focus!
I kicked off the covers and sat up. Grabbing the mug again, I drank every last drop, but nothing happened.
What’s going on? Is a herb like this useless for retrieving important memories?
Wizeria! What the heck! This isn’t it!
But my mind once again offered only silence…
Seriously, can I get a refund on this brain?
I was grumbling furiously over what to try next when—
A crackling interference buzzed in my ear.
[ Ruby. ]
Khalid? What is it?
[ The mage you told me to keep watch on… Something feels off. ]
I froze.
W-what do you mean?
[ Asha Drukan’s been called in, and I think he’s up to something… Wait a second. ]
What is it?
I scrambled upright, anxious.
[ The Duke Zevert is on horseback, heading somewhere. ]
It sounded as if he was seeing all this in real time.
Dad? Where? Where did he go?
Without thinking, I went to the window and drew back the curtain.
Pitch black night. Faint moonlight.
I couldn’t see very well outside.
[ I don’t know. He looked to be in a huge hurry… Direction? If it’s that way, then it’s toward the outskirts of Ipsen. ]
The outskirts?
As I pondered, my eyes widened.
That’s where the “fourth one” is.
“You will pay dearly for defying our king.”
That phrase suddenly echoed in my mind.
Clatter. The mug at my feet toppled, spinning in a circle.
Dim moonlight, night.
Dad, meeting the kingdom’s mage alone.
The mark on his right arm…
Everything matched the dream.
No way… no way.
[ Ruby? ]
Khalid.
I lifted my head.
Where is that mage, right now, exactly?
It couldn’t be.
It couldn’t.
But there was no way I could stake my beloved father’s life on a nervous, hopeful assumption.
I tore through the darkness.
Gnaw. Gnaw.
The red-haired mage bit his nails.
He was holed up in a small mansion on the outskirts of Ipsen. Separated from the center, it was quiet and rarely visited.
If you failed the northern search, return at once.
A brief reply had come from the kingdom regarding the search results he had sent.
The word “failure” stuck in his mind.
Crushing the letter in his fist, he clicked his tongue.
“Tsk. For me to fail…”
He had used the pretense of the portal malfunction to postpone his return, wandered around delivering magical artifacts to the children who hadn’t attended the banquet.
Naturally, those artifacts were silent.
“Something’s still bothering me.”
He hung on to the last shred of possibility.
“That silver hair.”
He hadn’t checked the face beneath the veil.
No magic, and the eye color was different too.
I was wrong? I failed?
“That can’t be!”
Crack—his nail snapped with a sharp sound.
With his other hand, he hurled the bottle he held.
“Was it really not a transformation spell?! Are you sure?!”
Crash.
Red wine exploded everywhere.
The woman standing nearby flinched. It was Asha Drukan.
“Y-yes! I’m sure! You said yourself you checked with magic in the maze!”
Asha stammered, but her words tumbled on.
Rubian’s true eye color is blue.
On the battlefield, she too had thought Rubian’s eyes were red. So this mage must have thought the same.
“Wait, then no one knows? Rubian’s real eye color? Not even… His Majesty?”
“When she was very young, she couldn’t control her power, so her eyes were always exposed. My memory of it’s blurry… Sometimes I think in that way Wizeria’s unpredictability was a help after all.”
“That must have been tough…”
Asha didn’t quite catch the last part about Wizeria or whatever, but she realized this could be a powerful secret for Rubian.
She summoned up her courage.
“S-silver hair isn’t rare, but it’s not exactly so special either, so… Eeek!”
The “fourth one” whipped up a threatening whirlwind that set the trees rocking. Asha’s short hair flew in all directions.
“Who asked for your advice? Know your place, you hanger-on!”
He was the one who asked…
Asha wanted to snap back, but she held her tongue.
It was a night so dim and moonless, it seemed perfect for dying without a sound.
“If only I could check again…”
The “fourth one” muttered in frustration.
He was the type to trust his instincts.
And right now, those instincts were screaming at him. Check the face under the veil again.
“Hmph, right. Push comes to shove, there’s always this.”
The “fourth one” pressed his chest.
There—the emergency teleportation artifact.
If things got dicey, he’d use it to escape to the kingdom.
He strode swiftly across the dark garden.
His plan was quickly formed.
“I’ll have to sneak into the mansion. If I find the princess alone, all I need to do is confirm her face… Now, which stealth magic…”
“Th-the princess is leaving tomorrow…”
The mage whirled around.
“You—convince the emperor to make Duke Zevert stay here longer. Use a party, an excuse, whatever you like, but lure him out. That much, you can manage?”
“I couldn’t possibly do that—!”
“Enough. Move now—!”
Just then.
A slow, utterly chilling touch grazed his throat.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“…!”
“What were you planning?”
The mage froze. His trembling eyes drifted downward.
An icy blade pressed hard under his chin.
One wrong move, and an arterial fountain.
“D-Duke… Zevert?”
He swallowed and looked at the silhouette.
A strong arm, extending from the shadow of a garden tree. A large figure.
In the dim moonlight, those eyes shone vivid violet.