“I see. Ice Element, Frost Element, whatever you call it, a magician who can control ice is rare. It’s not as rare as Luzer Fischer’s Lightning Element, but it’s quite an unusual one.”
Back in his room, Jared relayed the information about the magician from the hostile Orthodox Magician Army.
After sitting on the bed and finishing recounting the vividly recalled scene, Pfeil, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, continued.
“You probably won’t be able to find out his identity. I doubt someone plotting to do something to the country would honestly register with the Mage Association.”
“I agree with that. Even if he is registered with the Mage Association, I don’t think he’d honestly provide information.”
Although they had arranged for Duke Rüdiger’s Family to inquire with the Mage Association about a magician with the Frost Element, they didn’t expect to find anyone.
Even so, they couldn’t do nothing.
“I’ve heard that by mastering the Water Element, one can also use the Frost Element, but it’s not something easily achieved. I myself can use Water Element magic, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to use the Frost Element.”
Since it wasn’t clear what process would lead to the Frost Element, it was more reasonable to consider the opposing magician not a Water Element magician, but a rare magician born with the Frost Element.
Either way, this alone wouldn’t reveal the identity of the attacker.
It would be good if they could identify them from the Member of the Royal Mage Corps whose identity Ernesta had discovered, but that wouldn’t be easy.
“Hmph. I hear that many magicians with multiple elements end up half-baked, unable to master them all. Shouldn’t you also focus on the Earth Element magic, with which you have the best affinity?”
“Perhaps.”
In truth, he had considered Pfeil’s suggestion.
“The fact that you use Petrify Magic but become exhausted due to heavy consumption and can’t fight is because of your half-baked magic. Even with a large amount of Magic Power, you don’t realize you’re wasting your talent.”
“You certainly don’t hold back, do you?”
It was painful to hear.
In fact, she couldn’t argue, having been defeated due to running out of magic power after casting an unfinished Petrify Magic.
“We can view magic as a tool. Then, aren’t there areas you should polish and focus more on?”
“Right. I’ll consult Almeida when I return to the Capital City.”
“That would be wise. You are blessed with a teacher. Learn fully, utilize it, and become stronger. It will be too late to gain strength after you cannot protect the people you want to protect.”
“…Pfeil, you…”
It sounded as if he had someone he wanted to protect.
He didn’t intend to pry, but she noticed her own expression of curiosity and he made a bitter face as if realizing his slip of the tongue.
“That was a misstatement. Forget it.”
“But…”
“Please forget it, I’m asking you.”
“…Alright. But if you want to talk, please do. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“—Heh. Aren’t we destined to kill each other someday?”
“There’s nothing wrong with having friends like that.”
“Hmph. You’re a strange one.”
Pfeil offered a smile, and Jared returned it.
Come to think of it, she didn’t know how he had become a member of Waalthe, let alone its successor.
They weren’t close enough to reveal their pasts, but she hoped they could talk about them someday.
Jared and Pfeil continued talking for a while after that.
***
Ernesta Kaif was having a dream.
The final moments of her brother, who wasn’t listening to her.
The image of her brother, his body turned to stone by Jared’s Petrify Magic, writhing in agony, surfaced.
Her brother, unable to even move his mouth to cry out in agony, struggling to breathe and suffering, flickered in and out of existence.
It was so vivid, as if she had been there.
It was so lifelike that she could almost mistake it for a miracle that allowed her to witness her brother’s final moments.
At the same time, she knew it was different. Her brother’s end was not like this. He had lost in battle and died.
He had not died in agony.
But why? Why did she feel that what she was seeing now was the truth? She even began to doubt whether Jared and the others had given her false information.
“Don’t think,” someone said in the dream.
“Accept it,” someone cried out in the darkness.
“It hurts,” her petrified brother shed tears.
“—Big Brother?”
As she used the nostalgic address she had used when they were close, before her brother disappeared, her petrified brother crumbled, his face distorted.
Ernesta let out a scream that threatened to tear her throat apart.
Why did she have to witness her brother’s death? Why did her brother have to die, even in a dream?
Faced with this unreasonable sight, she questioned the void again and again. Then,
“—Whose fault is it?”
Someone asked her.
From right behind her, where she could feel their breath, a small, sweet voice asked.
“—Whose fault is it that Barnabas died?”
It was no one’s fault. Her brother died as a result of his own actions.
“—Who killed him?”
“Stop it,” Ernesta cried.
That was the one thing she had tried not to think about. No, she had thought about it many times before and even harbored unreasonable resentment. However, seeing similarities to her brother and his aspiration to save others through strength, she had decided not to direct her resentment anymore.
But the voice would not let her be.
“—Hey, whose fault is it that Barnabas died?”
“—Hey, who killed him? Who took him away?”
“Stop it, please stop. I didn’t want to think about it. I shouldn’t have thought about it.”
She had finally decided to move forward, to overcome her grief.
“—Who do you hate?”
The voice laughed. Before she knew it, she was laughing too.
In an instant, Ernesta Kaif’s eyes snapped open.
