Chapter 110
“What are you apologizing for?”
“W-Well….”
Lieutenant Melvin suddenly began sweating profusely and babbling nervously.
“I… if someone like me got called over, it must mean I… I did something wrong…”
“That’s not it. I just called you because I wanted to see something.”
“R-Really? That’s a relief… phew.”
Lieutenant Melvin let out a deep sigh, trying to calm his racing heart.
“I-I thought I’d made some mistake… C-Carlile Private.”
“Don’t worry. That’s not it.”
“Th-Thank you.”
Carlile tilted his head, unsure why he was being thanked.
“I-I’m really sorry, though.”
“Hm?”
“If you just sit here spacing out like this, it looks a bit off. If you’re going to stay like this, you should at least find somewhere out of sight.”
“D-Does it bother you…?”
“Something like that.”
“Ah, I see. That wasn’t my intention. I didn’t mean to be a nuisance. I-I really apologize, Carlile Private. During the day, I’ll stay outside or something.”
Carlile was left speechless at Melvin’s response.
‘Just how low is his self-esteem?’
But thinking about it, it made sense.
Even ignoring “that incident,” Lieutenant Melvin wasn’t respected as a reconnaissance soldier.
He was physically weak, often falling behind or collapsing during runs, and despite being an officer, he had no tactical or strategic sense.
He was timid by nature, making him an easy target for disregard.
If only he were skilled in magic, people might overlook his shortcomings…
‘Tch. And to think I expected something from him just because he’s a mage… ah.’
Carlile suddenly realized why he found Melvin irritating.
It was because of expectation.
They had all hoped Melvin would take down the enemies spectacularly.
‘Failing to meet expectations… must be infuriating.’
Carlile could somewhat understand Melvin’s feelings.
“But…”
“D-Did I do something wrong again?”
“No.”
Carlile shook his head.
“I’m just curious.”
“Curious about what? You can ask anything, I-I’d be happy to answer.”
Melvin seemed both wary and delighted to finally receive someone’s attention after a month of being treated almost like a ghost.
“Oh… that time, why did you fail?”
“Ah… that time…”
Melvin’s face darkened as he recalled the incident.
“Actually… I don’t have any talent for magic.”
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
Carlile frowned in disbelief. A mage with no talent for magic? Impossible.
“I mean it literally. I have just enough ability to become a mage, but I can never be an outstanding one.”
“Huh?”
“I spent two years learning magic at the academy, yet there are only a few spells I can actually perform. I tried the explosive fireball because it sometimes worked… but it didn’t.”
Carlile pursed his lips in disbelief.
‘He actually tried using a low-success-rate spell in his first real battle?!’
It wasn’t just his lack of magical talent.
“I once believed I could become a great mage….”
“……?”
“It started around when I was six, when my magic first manifested.”
Melvin began recounting his life story.
‘I don’t really care…’
But Carlile decided to listen, unsure how to stop him.
In this world, magic couldn’t simply be learned.
Only those born with magical talent could study it. Anyone else had no chance.
That was why mages were so rare.
Even if someone could manipulate mana, their abilities were limited, so they couldn’t be considered true mages.
Melvin had shown magical talent around age seven.
He could do simple things like lighting a candle without matches or moving a broom—primitive, basic magic.
“My parents were delighted. The villagers called me a prodigy and revered me. Everyone wished I would become a great mage.”
“So?”
“When I was about ten, His Excellency the Grand Duke personally came to find me. He wanted to send me to the capital to study under an exceptional master. That’s how I became Sir Pascal’s disciple.”
“You were Sir Pascal’s disciple?”
Melvin gave a wry smile at Carlile’s surprised question.
‘This useless guy was Pascal’s student?’
Pascal—the one known as the Disastrous Mage.
A retainer of the Sigmund family, the greatest mage in Decaron. Once, along with the northern envoy Maranello, he served as a guardian of the Sigmunds.
But three years ago, Pascal passed away due to old age, and since then, no great mage appeared in Decaron.
Even after Frey von Sigmund became the ruler following Duke Guntram, this problem remained.
Anyone playing as Frey would know how frustrating it was to lack competent mages.
“My master never gave up on me, but I… sigh.”
“……”
“Even until his last day, he worried about me. I’m an ungrateful student. I never managed to make him happy once before he passed.”
Melvin’s eyes reddened as he remembered Pascal.
“Ugh.”
Carlile rubbed his forehead, frowning.
“I’d rather not hear this anymore. Let’s stop.”
“R-Right… yeah. It’s not really something you should hear from someone you don’t know well. Sorry for bringing it up…”
“No need to apologize. It’s just… a very deep story.”
“Y-Yeah, that’s true.”
“Anyway, you shouldn’t just stay here. You can’t live like this forever.”
“R-Really…? Everyone told me not to do anything…”
“That just means don’t do pointless stuff alone.”
“Huh?”
“They’re not bad people. Even showing some effort will change their attitude.”
“R-Really?”
“Most likely.”
“Hm…”
“And honestly, it might even be good for you.”
“Good for me?”
“You messed up so badly before that nobody expects anything. If you do even a little, they’ll praise you.”
“…!”
“So you don’t need me to spell it out, right?”
“T-This method…!”
“Understood? Then do something from now on.”
“Then I’ll focus on practicing that explosive fireball I failed at last time—”
“You planning to destroy the lab?”
Carlile glared at him.
“Do that in the unit. If a fire breaks out here, we’ll all die.”
“Ah, right… then…”
“Do push-ups or sit-ups. That’ll work.”
“I’ll try that. And… thank you, Carlile Private.”
Melvin smiled faintly.
“I was worried it would be like everyone said, but it’s different. You actually talk to someone like me.”
“You just looked pitiful, sitting there alone. Don’t read too much into it.”
“……”
“Then, I’ll leave now.”
After Carlile left,
“Still, thanks, Carlile Private. You helped me figure out what I should do.”
Melvin looked at Carlile’s retreating figure, then immediately got down and attempted push-ups.
One, two, three, four… thud!
“Ugh!”
It seemed his physical strength was a bigger problem than magic.
Carlile’s group spent a leisurely time in Antiros’ lab, regardless of Kravel’s frustration.
It was nice for both Carlile and the reconnaissance team—they could rest without participating in missions or training.
But nothing lasts forever.
“Shall we go? By now, the battalion commander must be on edge.”
“Yeah, let’s. I was getting restless too.”
The other recon soldiers agreed.
“But… what about that girl?”
“Hm?”
“What do we do about her?”
Beatrice—Antiros’ magical creation.
“Why are you asking me?”
“Because you brought her, so you should take responsibility!”
“I didn’t do that!”
“You’re still lying as usual! Then you can’t take her!”
Carlile frowned, unsure how to handle Beatrice.
“We can’t take her, but if we leave her… she might follow.”
“Brother…”
“Why?”
“Are… are you going to abandon me?”
Beatrice seemed on the verge of tears.
“Maybe we should worry about that later…?”
Marder, who had been silent, suddenly spoke.
He had been scouting from above with Hugin.
“Why?”
“Looks like we can’t return today. Haha… hahahaha…”
“What do you mean?”
“An enormous number of them are coming.”
“How many?”
“At least a thousand, I think…”
“Over a thousand…?”
“Maybe even more.”
“That’s a problem,” Carlile said reluctantly.
“Then let’s wait until they pass.”
“Right.”
Marder sent Hugin through a vent with a small note attached to its leg, sending him off to report to Helen at Bowden Fortress.
“Should be okay by half a day later. We’ll set out late tonight, then.”
Carlile and the recon team assumed the large force of barbarians would soon pass.
But they were gravely mistaken.
“What are they… doing?”
Carlile frowned at the magical mirror.
The lab had a magic mirror that could observe a 50-meter radius outside.
“They’re building something, aren’t they?”
Kudo looked stunned.
Through the mirror, the barbarians were not passing—they were building a fortress using stones, dirt, and logs.
And it was right above the lab, covering entrances and several vents.
Meaning…
“Ah, damn it.”
Carlile cursed. Even the unlucky can trip and fall, but to have barbarians build a fortress right above them?
“Wait a second.”
The young dragon peeked out and pointed the magic mirror at a certain spot.
“Isn’t that… a bathroom?”
“…!”
Some barbarian engineers were building a bathroom on top of the vent.
