IWMHWD 47

<Chapter 47> To Forecast Delrim
2023.12.17

Leonard, who had a rough idea about her relationship with her father, casually remarked,

“You won’t run into your father, so don’t worry.”

“I don’t mind, but if my father finds out I’m your disciple, I was worried it might cause trouble for you.”

“Trouble? The Margrave of Vasquez causing trouble for me?”

He scoffed openly. It could have come across as rude, but strangely, Cordelia felt reassured.

Well, no matter what Vasquez tried, it would be hard to tarnish Leonard’s reputation. She tried to brush off her unease and shifted the topic.

“To think we’re headed for Forecast Delrim. I’ve never been to the capital before.”

“Is there any place you have been to?”

“Well… I suppose that’s true.”

Cordelia laughed awkwardly. Come to think of it, everywhere she had been lately, she’d gone with him. She found herself slightly curious about what awaited her this time.

Baron, scooping tomato stew and handing it to Cordelia, asked,

“How well-versed are you in court etiquette?”

“Court etiquette? I learned it when I was very young, so I’ve forgotten most of it. Why do you ask?”

“Hm. You’ll need to greet His Majesty. I’ll teach you the basics.”

“His Majesty? But why would I be meeting the King just because I’m visiting the capital?”

Cordelia casually replied as she blew on her steaming stew and took a bite. She passed a piece of jerky to Roti, who sat beside her.

Unfortunately, ever since they’d left the Dilroana territory, she hadn’t been able to hear Roti’s voice again.

“You didn’t know? Master was appointed a court magician directly by the King. Naturally, you’ll be accompanying him into the palace.”

“A court magician? Wait, how many bodies does Master have? He’s the head of House Atillay, head of Acheron’s Seirius, and a court magician?”

She thought she’d reached her limit of surprises, but apparently not.

Glancing at Leonard’s profile, Cordelia shook her head.

“He’s definitely not human.”

“Why are you so surprised? Aside from House Atillay, you’re going to inherit all of it eventually.”

“Huh?”

“We’ll stop by the Assembly first. Once things settle, we’re heading to the Magic Association. There, we’ll name you the official heir of Acheron. As for the court magician title—I’ll pass it on when your skills reach a certain level.”

“Wh—what?”

Leonard said it like it was no big deal, but Cordelia’s expression twisted more and more.

If she were to inherit all that, then she could never leave his side.

Baron had once tried to tempt her, saying, “In the case of a single-heir transmission of stellar magic, the master and disciple often live apart, just in case.”

Of course, now she had no intention of leaving, even if someone told her to return to Abram, but she still felt betrayed.

She spun her head so fast it made a whoosh as she turned to Baron.

“Baron, you knew all along? That I’d be inheriting all this?”

“Well… yes.”

“You fraud! You told me I could go back to Abram and live comfortably after separating from Master!”

“T-That was because… I thought you’d lose your magic back then.”

Baron stammered to defend himself. But she clearly remembered—there had been no mention of her losing her magic in his explanation.

“Go back? To Abram? What are you talking about?”

“Master, do you know what Baron said to me before going to Dilroana? He suggested using puppetry magic to control Craig’s corpse and return to Abram!”

Normally, she would’ve let it slide, but Cordelia was having none of it today. She tattled on every single thing Baron had said to her.

Leonard’s mouth twitched as he listened.

“So one lies to deceive, and the other is tempted by the idea of abandoning her master? Tsk tsk. You two really are something.”

From his perspective, both were equally guilty. Cordelia flared her nose in protest.

“Master! I’m sticking with you from now on. That silver tongue! You can’t lump me in with Baron!”

“Silver tongue? Lady Cordelia, I am the very model of loyalty and integrity—Baron Langsha, at your service.”

“Both of you, shut it.”

The group traveled without rest. It had taken nearly ten days to descend before, but they made it back to the port in just seven. That’s how grueling the schedule had been.

By the time they reached the port at the northern tip of Ansen—where ships to the northern continent departed—even Veluche, who had strong stamina, looked visibly exhausted. Baron returned with tickets in hand.

“Well, at least we’ll get some rest on the ship.”

“I’m going to pass out as soon as we hit the cabin.”

Cordelia dragged herself onto the ship like a boneless creature. Her master, seemingly not completely devoid of compassion, allowed her a day of rest without a word.

Unfortunately, that consideration ended after just one day.

“Ow!”

“Focus. Concentrate.”

From the next day, Cordelia was back under Leonard’s special training.

She was learning a form of defensive magic—starting with the very basics: deflecting physical attacks.

Which meant, in practice, Leonard frequently struck her arms or shoulders to train her.

“I was concentrating…”

“How many times have I told you? You need to calculate the formula the moment the object comes flying and distribute your mana accordingly.”

“But doing it at that exact moment is hard…”

“If you can’t time it right, just maintain the shield constantly. Simple.”

Of course, that was even harder—but she didn’t dare say it. If she did, she’d just get another lecture about how her brain was made of stone.

Staring at complex magical formulas for so long, Cordelia’s head slowly began to droop.

“Are you seriously falling asleep?”

“…No? Not at all, I wasn’t dozing!”

Cordelia snapped her head up and denied it fervently. Leonard clicked his tongue and pretended not to see as she began scribbling again.

It took seven days to reach Ersche, since the route to the northern continent was against the wind.

Cordelia was the first to disembark.

“Ah, the familiar wind of Ersche.”

They’d only crossed a single sea, but the air smelled different. It was still the southernmost part of Ersche, but far better than Ansen’s hot, humid air.

Standing at the dock, Cordelia took a deep breath. Behind her, Veluche was unloading two person-sized crates one after another and muttered,

“Quit acting all dramatic and move.”

“Seriously? That’s no way to talk to your lifesaver.”

“Lifesaver? I was the one who saved you from that monster, remember?”

“What are you talking about? It was my Roti who saved you when you were about to become dog food. Let’s get the facts straight.”

“Ugh. I’d rather bow to that mutt than to you.”

As the two bickered childishly, Baron returned with a large cart and supplies.

“Hoho. Veluche, please load those crates in the back. Master will be returning shortly.”

“…That thing’s still alive, right?”

Cordelia pointed to the crate containing Maximilian and asked in a low voice. Baron responded in his usual gentle tone.

“Of course. We give him water and black bread once a day. Quite merciful, really.”

“Merciful, huh… Well, I suppose staying alive is better than the alternative.”

The word “mercy” didn’t quite fit, but it probably beat dying. Or perhaps, for Maximilian, this was the greater torment.

Veluche placed the crate containing Craig’s corpse into the cart first, then loaded the one with Maximilian beside it.

During the ten-day journey to Forecast Delrim, Cordelia practiced maintaining her defensive shield nonstop.

Other than sleeping, she was constantly under Leonard’s instruction. Eventually, she could reflect two or three of his attacks out of ten.

Leonard looked unimpressed with her progress, but Cordelia was more than satisfied—

Because it came in handy when messing with Veluche.

“Go ahead, hit me.”

“You’re crazy. If I hit you for real, you’ll go flying.”

“Just try it. What, are you scared?”

“Who’s scared?”

She only had to provoke him a little for Veluche to fall for it. Grinning mischievously, he slammed her arm hard.

Cordelia, already prepared, activated her shield at just the right moment. The force rebounded directly onto him.

“Ugh!”

“Oh my! That must’ve hurt. Are you okay, Veluche?”

“You cheeky little—”

When he ground his teeth and said they should try again, Cordelia made a run for it, saying she was busy.

“You two seem to be getting along well.”

“Who and who?”

Baron merely gestured toward Veluche with a nod. Cordelia quickly denied it.

“We’re not close at all.”

“I never imagined Veluche would open up to you this quickly.”

“Do you know that guy stares at my left wrist whenever he gets the chance? I even sleep with my arm hidden these days. In case he tries to cut it off.”

“I’m glad to see the two of you getting along.”

“…You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”

“Hohoho. When you’re old, your hearing tends to go.”

Funny how his hearing only failed when it was convenient. As the wind tousled her hair, Cordelia softly muttered,

“…Well, we do have something in common. Both of us have fathers who weren’t exactly kind. Makes it easier to understand each other.”

She had heard a bit about Veluche’s father while they were talking. The Marquess of Ingrion had been just as violent and cruel.

Veluche spoke of it lightly, as if it was too long ago to remember, but as she listened to him, Cordelia felt an old ache in her arm—as if the bruises that once marked her skin were still there.

Even though they had long since faded.