Hildebrand watched Dolph practice his magic. He was quiet and concentrated, giving his full attention to his magic. It wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say he mastered the basic Fireball in a week. An impressive feat for a boy who barely understood magic a week ago. He was exactly what Hildebrand hoped for, a spell-casting savant. And he was focused, as if possessed by an Archmage’s ghost. If he had the brilliant creativity and wisdom, and the strong moral character, of Old Man Ren, maybe he could even become a Sage.

Hildebrand watched as Dolph rubbed his chin, seemingly perplexed by the wand he had been loaned for the class. After a long moment of examining it, he lit it ablaze and threw it at a target. It was a good throw; it went clean through the target and beyond.

“Mister Adolt!” Sasha said, rushing up to Dolph. “That’s academy property!” Her voice was uncharacteristically pitched, no doubt because Dolph’s foolish act had interrupted her precious flirting with Roy.

Maybe Sage was out of his reach. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a position purely of magical prowess. It just happened that most Sages in history were also among the greatest mages of their times. It was fine if he didn’t become a sage. It was more often a title for stuffy old men who purported to be wise beyond mortal means and had the power and respect to deter criticism. At least, that was what Hildebrand told herself.

Hildebrand cast a Fireball of her own, hitting the target down range. It was neither as flashy nor as destructive as the one she had cast on the first day of magic class, or Practical Spellcasting, as the rubric mentioned. And it didn’t need to be, because the Fireball wasn’t very practical.

No matter how much energy one put into a basic Fireball, it wasn’t a practical spell in the modern era, despite its high destructive capabilities. Its simple nature made it easy to dispel. Even the rudimentary defensive enchantments found on cheap protective charms could dispel it or negate the activation of its effect, dispersing it into mostly harmless Vitale before major damage could be done.

Like primitive spells from the early period of mankind, the basic Fireball was useful chiefly against beings who didn’t know a thing about magic. Although encoding could make the spell more durable, unlike a pure stream of energized Vitale. In the past it had its moments, but those moments belonged in history books.

The problem was it was the only spell Hildebrand knew. At least, the only one useful in combat. She looked over at the other students.

Many of them played with Fireball, still trying to figure it out. But some practiced more complex fire spells, while others toyed with other elemental spells, some of which were more practical due to their discrete, physical nature. They were closer to alchemy than pure spell-slinging. Dispelling a Stone Throw took the wind out of its sails, but it was still a transmuted chunk of stone hurtling through the air. The ease with which some students flung spells surprised Hildebrand. A handful demonstrated proficiency on par with veteran combat mages. It was like they had studied their entire lives, since they were in the cradle.

Surprisingly, Bridgette, the homely hothead, was among them. She was clearly more than just another frivolous young lady who fancied magic as a cute novelty.

Hildebrand watched, and she stared, as Bridgette unleashed a swirling maelstrom of flames that reduced several targets to ash. She did it as easily as Hildebrand cast Fireball. The sight of Bridgette’s firepower made Hildebrand’s back run cold.

And a shiver ran up her spine when Bridgette turned her way, catching Hildebrand staring. Hildebrand slowly turned away, acting as if their eyes had never met. She understood why Hugo struggled against the corrupted Bridgette. She dreaded the day she would have to face off against the corrupted Bridgette. Fortunately, she still had some months left. Hopefully.

In the meantime, Hildebrand smiled at Dolph, who returned from Sasha’s lecture about respecting academy property. Hildebrand glanced at the woman, who returned to Roy.

The hypocrisy was palpable. That man, Roy Garland, had already destroyed several practice swords. Bloody Ironwood was as expensive as it was exotic. But Sasha probably hadn’t said a word about it.

“I didn’t know wands were so expensive. I thought it was just a piece of wood,” Dolph said.

Hildebrand laughed, shaking her head. “Wands aren’t cheap. Everyone knows that,” she said.

“Everyone? Really?” he muttered.

“Yes,” she confirmed. She tapped his nose and added, “Silly.” It felt like a mistake. She felt a sudden pressure on the back of her head. A creeping feeling.

“It’s news to me,” Dolph said. His eyes focused on the tip of his nose, his cheeks a shade of pink.

“Your parents must have spoiled you rotten,” Hildebrand said, brushing the feeling off her hair. It must have been the wind.

His beady eyes drifted to the overcast sky. “Something like that,” he said. His eyes returned to Hildebrand. “I wish they hadn’t.”

Just as Hildebrand minded the melancholy of his words, the corners of his lips gently curled up.

“It’s tough being a peasant,” he said.

“It’s not easy,” Hildebrand said.

“How do you do it?” he asked.

She smiled at him with eyes wide open, unpinched by her cheeks. “…I just happen to be an expert.”

“That’s why you’re the boss,” he said. He was clueless.

Hildebrand laughed and punched his arm. And Dolph laughed a stilted laugh. And Hildebrand laughed again, copying Dolph’s stilted laugh. She punched his arm harder. His laughter trailed off.

“What? What?” he said, putting his hand up, ready to catch Hildebrand’s fist. “Don’t.”

She put her hand down. “Anyway, don’t go around destroying wands. They’re expensive.”

He touched his chin. “Hold on, didn’t you burn that guy’s wand?” Dolph pointed to Wolfgang. He stood alone, practicing spells.

“…” Hildebrand jabbed Dolph’s side with her fingers. “It was for a good cause,” she said. “And it was just the tip,” she reminded. Why did it even burn? she wondered. A half-decent wand would have been able to resist the magical flame; spells were weakest while being formed.

“Hey,” Hildebrand snapped. “Don’t change the subject.” She wagged a finger at him. “I’m serious. Next time, they’re going to make you pay for it.”

He nodded dismissively. “So, what do you think?” he asked. “My magic’s not bad, right?”

Hildebrand nodded. “It’s excellent,” she said. “You might be a genius.” He was, but she didn’t want to confirm it just yet. She didn’t want him to go grow overconfident so early on. “Might,” she emphasized.

Dolph blushed again. “Ahem,” he grunted. “Well, that’s nothing. Just a fireball.”

“You’re right,” she said. “This is just the basics.”

“I know,” Dolph said. “I plan to master the Large Fireball next.”

“The what?” Hildebrand asked.

“The Large Fireball,” he repeated.

“I don’t think that’s a real spell,” she said. Maybe it was, but it didn’t seem likely. Spells that were significantly different in size usually had their own names.

Dolph quietly gasped and touched his lips in contemplation. “What about the Mega Fireball?” he asked.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Mega?” Hildebrand shook her head. “Are you making up words again?”

He huffed through his teeth. “Damn,” he muttered. “Then what do I learn next?”

“I’m sure Sasha will teach us something,” Hildebrand said.

Sasha had showed several spells, once. She seemed more interested in flirting than teaching. It didn’t help that man, Roy, seemed to have infinite free time. He interrupted several classes, but he seemed to show up for every magic class to distract Sasha.

Her inattention allowed the already stratified class to concretize the young factions. Instead of relying on the instructor, the factions helped each other learn, but it also meant their shared knowledge was exclusive. It became tribal. Perhaps they were growing faster than they would have under Sasha’s instruction, but they were also growing further apart. In Hildebrand’s past life, the class was unified under her. Almost. The majority were. At least there weren’t two separate large factions and so many stragglers.

Hildebrand shook her head at herself.

“I don’t think the teacher’s very good at her job,” Dolph said, glancing over at Sasha.

Hildebrand couldn’t disagree, but it irked her to hear someone else insult Sasha’s shaky teaching ability. “Don’t say that,” she said. “I’m sure she’s doing her best.”

Dolph stared at Hildebrand like she was speaking a foreign language. Then he glanced again at Sasha, who was flailing around with animated laughter. There was nothing that man, Roy Garland, could have said that was so funny she had to slap her knee. Dolph turned back to Hildebrand with a look of concern. Concern for her.

“Y-you could create your own spells,” Hildebrand suggested. “…Or just read about them.” That was a rational option.

“I can do that?”

“Of course,” Hildebrand said. “It can be dangerous, but there’s nothing stopping you from experimenting. As long as you can visualize it and understand what you’re trying to do, you can do anything with magic.” She had to add, “Almost.” She didn’t want Dolph to blow himself up or anything awful like that.

Dolph’s eyes went wide with understanding. And a little mischief. “Ah,” he muttered, nodding.

“I wouldn’t try explosion magic until you have some experience,” she warned. “I knew someone who blew himself up.”

“I can handle—”

She touched his arm and gave him her grimmest stare. “The only thing left of him was his boots,” she said.

Dolph opened his mouth.

“Not even his whole boots,” Hildebrand lied. “Just the soles.”

He still wanted to speak.

“Which were melted into the ground…” She lifted her leg and circled the heel of her boots with her finger. “This part,” she said.

“That’s the heel…” Dolph said.

Hildebrand nodded.

And he nodded back.

“Why don’t you invent the ‘Mega Fireball’?” she asked. She didn’t know what he had in mind. But it sounded simple enough.

He raised a brow at her. “No,” he said. “That’s stupid. I’m not going to waste my time on that.” He grunted. “That’s so simpleminded.”

His answer annoyed her a little. It annoyed her a lot. But she held her tongue and her fist. She was trying to be gentler with him. He had almost died for her, after all.

“Then I hope you’ll show me something interesting,” she said. Hildebrand smiled her perfect smile again. “I have high hopes and—”

“High expectations?” Dolph asked.

“Yeah,” Hildebrand asked. She wondered how he knew; it wasn’t a common expression. In fact, she was the only person who used it. And she shouldn’t have even used it for a few more years.

Dolph stared intently at her; his gaze affixed like a statue’s. “Priscilla also says that,” he finally said.

“Is that so?” Hildebrand asked, putting aside the strange fact that Dolph even knew that. He was lying. He had to be. But she couldn’t tell with Dolph. Well and truly.

She considered using the occasion to insult Priscilla, but held her tongue again. Hildebrand looked across the field at Priscilla, who was the center of the attention of her entourage. Her underlings were hard to work, trying to impress her.

And it seemed their show was escalating into a competition between her Saintess faction and the Prince faction. First, there was a light show of fire spells, then a cacophony of crashing stones and even the cries of summoned spirits, embodiments of the lingering Vitale in nature. The students were certainly talented when motivated.

But then Anya stepped forward.

Anya pointed her wand at a group of distant targets, all spread tens of meters apart, and a moment later they were in pieces. Eviscerated by chunks of ice from the sky, each as large as a fist. The stormy clouds from which they hailed disappeared without a trace in moments.

Her casual display of power demanded silence for a few tense moments, then applause and cheers from Priscilla’s Saintess faction.

“That was brilliant!” Priscilla said, clapping loudly. She took Anya’s hands and shook them repeatedly. Then she turned to Prince Enane. “Beat that, if you can!” she said.

The young man looked a little stunned. His eyes slightly wide, as if asking, “me?” He turned to his right-hand man, Kian, and chattered away.

“Is she causing trouble again?” Dolph asked.

Hildebrand glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and nodded.

At first Enane spoke calmly, although his mouth chattered away. But the more Kian tried to assuage him, the more Enane became panicked. Enane’s hands started waving and spinning rapidly, as if frantic.

“What do you think he’s so worked up about?” Dolph asked.

Hildebrand cleared her throat. “Kian, help me, that crazy bit—I mean, that insane, wicked, insufferable girl is bothering me again. She must be plotting to kill me! What do I do?” Hildebrand said, in a falsetto she believed was appropriate for the pretty boy prince. “You have to do something!”

When Kian put his hands on his friend’s shoulders and spoke, Hildebrand lowered her neck and her voice to a deep baritone. “Calm down, we’ll have one of our minions take care of it.”

“Is that what they’re really saying?” Dolph asked. “You can hear them from here?”

“N-No,” Hildebrand said, incredulity in her still deepened voice. She cleared her throat. “It’s just a joke…”

Dolph cringed, staring, almost glaring at Hildebrand like she had committed a crime.

“Hmph,” Hildebrand grumbled, crossing her arms. “It was funny,” she said. Even if Dolph didn’t find humor in her joke, someone certainly did. Stifled laughter came from behind Hildebrand.

When she turned to see who it was, it was none other than Hugo. Not hers, but the boyish Hugo Rosenthal, who had been giving her the silent treatment since she brushed him off to attend to Dolph in the infirmary all of 30 minutes ago. She didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. And was it really so weird to check in on an injured friend?

Hugo doubled over and laughed aloud, no longer able to keep his composure. He let out a raucous laughter. “Hahaha!”

Even Greg laughed a few times. It was a meager show of support.

Hildebrand laughed along, too. And she jostled Dolph’s side with her elbow. “See?” she said. “You just don’t have a sense of humor.”

Dolph grunted and gave Hildebrand his usual scowl. It was a little more disgruntled than usual, his brows furrowing.

“I do,” he said. “A normal one. Yours is weird.” Dolph nodded his head towards Hugo. “His too.”

Hugo glanced a few times towards Hildebrand and Dolph, but his head was on a swivel, turning away and back again, like he couldn’t decide. He put on a grumpy face and finally made up his mind, turning away. But the moment he took a step away, Hildebrand pinched the back hem of his blazer, almost pulling it off as Hugo tried to make a getaway.

“E-Excuse me!” he said, turning around to confront Hildebrand.

“Are you still moping?” Hildebrand asked.

“I wasn’t moping!” Hugo exclaimed, his voice pitched. It was on the verge of breaking. He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t moping,” he said, in a deeper voice than usual.

Hugo gave Greg a nod, stopping the cautious blonde from stepping forward.

“Hello again, Hilde,” he said, trying and failing to ignore Dolph. Hugo threw quick and dirty glances Dolph’s way out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey,” Hildebrand said.

“I take it Dolph is okay?” Hugo asked.

“Of course,” Hildebrand said. “He’s right here.”

Hugo tried not to look, keeping his eyes on Hildebrand, but she waved her hands at Dolph.

“Here,” she repeated, swirling her arms at Dolph like he was a spectacle.

Hugo squinted, trying to keep his eyes from looking.

Hildebrand pointed with both hands at Dolph and wagged her fingers. “Where I’m pointing. See?”

Dolph’s eyes shifted from Hildebrand to Hugo and back again. “Here… I am,” he said.

Finally, Hugo relented. He stared at Dolph with annoyed eyes. And he pulled his hair back with his fingers. “Yes,” he grumbled. “There he is…”

Hugo huffed through his nose. “Frankly, I don’t think you’re fit to be her knight,” he said. “I could have beaten Bridgette,” he said. “Easily.”

“But you said you couldn’t beat a lady,” Hildebrand said.

“Yes,” Hugo sighed. “That’s true. I did say I wouldn’t beat a lady.” He raised a finger, and then all of them in exasperation. “But I would have if you—”

“I think that’s good,” Hildebrand said.

Hugo put his hand away, quieting down.

“I like that about you,” Hildebrand said. “It’s noble.” She gingerly took hold of the plackets of Hugo’s blazer, and tugged slightly, straightening it, fixing the wrinkles she had created. And she patted it down, fixing the wrinkles that had been there from the start. “It’s befitting of a knight.”

Hugo lowered his eyes quietly, almost closing them, as if covering his own eyes meant no one else could see the happiness plastered on his smiling face.

Hildebrand smiled too, maybe a little too perfectly. The Saintess Smile was a habit that, once revived, didn’t die easily. When Hugo saw it, his smile faltered.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m pleased you think so. But I still think you could do better,” Hugo said, glowering at Dolph. “He’s not exactly a man of good reputation,” Hugo said.

“Dolph’s a good person,” Hildebrand said. “An honorable person,” she said, attempting to defend him. “So, what if his reputation isn’t great? He’s very loyal.”

Dolph raised a disgruntled brow at the word “loyal”, but she didn’t understand his ire. Wasn’t it a compliment? Most gentlemen would have loved to hear such words.

“If you insist,” Hugo said. But he pointed at Dolph, pushing his finger in Dolph’s face. “But he’s too weak!” he said.

Dolph grunted. “Are you picking a fight with me?”

“No. Not at the moment,” Hugo said. “But you need to be stronger if you’re going to protect Hilde.”

“I know,” Dolph said.

“I won’t forgive you if you allow her to be harmed,” Hugo said.

“Ok…”

“You could be stronger,” Hildebrand said to Dolph.

“I know…” Dolph said again. “We just talked about this…”

“You’re a pansy!” Greg shouted.

This time, Dolph’s usual scowl gave way to a piercing glare. It made Greg stiffen up.

“Perhaps that was a little harsh,” Greg said.

“Yes,” Bridgette said, approaching the group. “It was.”

Just what did she want?