Chapter 66 : Stories of those left behind(1)

It had been a year and a half since Yuri began her successor training under Violet.

She had always aimed higher than others. Whenever a prodigy emerged in any field, she felt compelled to surpass them, and if she lost a sword sparring match, she’d challenge them again until she secured a decisive victory.

But lately, her life felt dull.

She couldn’t shake the sense that someone had once outshone her, only to vanish abruptly—a potential rival she might have pursued after entering the academy.

Yuri dismissed it as a trick of memory, perhaps spurred by the late summer heat.

Ch. 66 – Stories of Those Left Behind (1)

Yuri’s short, half-tied hair reflected in the mirror of the commander’s office. Since starting her successor training, she’d boldly cut the hair she’d grown since childhood. She couldn’t quite recall why she’d felt compelled to do so at the time.

“You seem deep in thought lately, Yuri.”

Violet’s gentle concern snapped her out of her reverie, and she turned to face him.

“Do you have any worries? Is inheriting the commander’s position a burden…?”

“…Not at all, Commander.”

Inheriting the role wasn’t what troubled Yuri. The real issue was that life had grown unbearably boring. Since Violet had largely retired from the battlefield due to his declining health, Yuri Freesia no longer had a target to surpass as a Spirit Master.

For someone who’d lived solely to grow stronger, the absence of a goal was a greater crisis than the end of the world.

Violet studied her carefully before making an unexpected suggestion.

“Yuri, have you ever considered teaching other Spirit Masters?”

Her eyes widened at his question. “…Teaching? What do you mean?”

“Simply put, I’m asking you to take a temporary instructor position at the academy. I know you’re busy with the successor process, so it’d just be part-time.”

In her nineteen and a half years, Yuri had only ever been the student, never the teacher. More precisely, she’d never seen a reason to teach.

“There are few in the empire with your skill,” Violet continued. “If you shared even a fraction of your expertise with the students, wouldn’t it elevate the empire’s Spirit Masters further?”

Yuri paused to think. She wasn’t worried about her ability to teach—she was intrigued by the unfamiliar realm of education.

Education…

It was simply passing knowledge and experience to others through words and writing, yet the outcome varied unpredictably, like a chemical reaction, depending on the recipient.

Though no Spirit Master in the empire currently rivaled her, she imagined that sharing her magical insights might one day produce someone to surpass her. The thought sent a strange thrill through her. In the end, she accepted Violet’s proposal.

“Alright. I’ll guide the students in my spare time while continuing my successor training.”

“…I knew you’d say that.”

Thud.

Yuri wrote her final sentence on the board, set down the chalk, and glanced at the clock.

“Time’s short today, so class ends here.”

“Instructor! I have a question!”

As her first lecture concluded, a flood of questions erupted from the students, as if they’d been waiting for the moment.

“Is it true you broke the four-minute record at the manifestation ceremony…?”

“Could you explain the battle with Invidia in detail?”

“Do you have a boyfriend…?”

The classroom buzzed so loudly that the questions blurred together. Yuri, wearing an awkward expression, raised a hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear well. One at a time, please…”

“Instructor, how did you discover that the activation mechanism of magic is influenced by emotions…?”

Activation mechanism…?

Amid the jumble of voices, one question rang clear. Yuri pointed at the student who’d spoken. “…You, Spirit Master. Repeat that.”

Startled by the attention, the student stammered under the weight of countless gazes. “…Um… How did you find out that magic is influenced by emotions…?”

“…”

It was a simple question, yet Yuri found herself at a loss.

How did I discover that…?

She scoured her memory for an answer.

And came up empty.

…Why?

That such a basic, crucial fact eluded her was maddening. She distinctly recalled someone imparting that knowledge to her—she even remembered crafting a potion to amplify the principle—but the person’s name and face were gone.

Had that person ever existed? Or was this a fleeting delusion triggered by an odd question?

“…I’m sorry. Due to a busy schedule, I’ll answer questions after the next lecture.”

Unable to respond, she left the classroom, abandoning the students’ barrage of inquiries.

…What is it?

Since hearing that question, an inexplicable unease gnawed at her. The harder she chased the memory, the more it slipped away, as if someone were meddling with her mind.

…I need to see Violet.

Whenever this feeling struck, she turned to him. Conversations with Violet melted the discomfort away, as if it had never been.

Yuri believed this stemmed from her deep respect for him. Discussing future plans or worries with him banished her anxiety, leaving only warmth in its place.

It was another dull weekend. Carne, who’d borrowed a book, set it down before finishing a page.

“It’s utter garbage.”

Just as boredom peaked, Luna emerged from the kitchen, blonde hair swaying, carrying something.

“Is that pudding?”

Carne, unable to resist desserts, was already imagining it in her mouth. Luna set the plate down, tossed off her gloves, and smiled sheepishly. “Try it. It’s a new creation.”

Carne scooped up a spoonful and tasted it, her expression subtle. The pudding was sweet but carried a strong, bitter edge—far from delicious. Luna, watching her closely, sighed deeply.

“…Another failure, right?”

Searching for comforting words, Carne offered the most positive spin she could muster. “No way…! It’s almost perfect. A few more tries, and it’ll taste like it used to… probably.”

Lately, Luna’s cooking had been off—unlike before, there was a faint shift in flavor. Carne, who ate her desserts daily without fail, noticed it keenly and wondered why.

“There’s no one to test it on but us,” Luna lamented. “Sigh…”

At Carne’s remark, Luna let out a small laugh.

“Yuri likes everything I make—her opinion’s no help. Still, it’d be nice if she showed her face sometimes.”

“…”

Unlike Carne and Luna, Yuri had risen swiftly through the ranks after starting successor training and had officially graduated from the academy. Private meetups were nearly impossible during the handover, leaving Yuri’s bed perpetually empty and neatly made.

Carne’s gaze drifted to another vacant bed beside it. She recalled its former occupant briefly before continuing with a bitter expression.

“…That other idiot was good at tasting. She’d show everything on her face, even when she lied. Remember the look Saya made when she ate that burnt stuff? It was really…”

Carne stopped mid-sentence, clapping a hand over her mouth. She apologized to Luna awkwardly. “Sorry, Luna. I know you asked me not to mention her name…”

Even saying Saya’s name stirred painful memories for Luna. Deeply shaken, she’d tried to erase Saya from her daily life as quickly as possible.

“It’s okay. I brought it up first. I’m getting used to it now.”

To shift the mood, Carne changed the topic. “Speaking of which, I heard Yuri’s teaching a temporary magic course this time. Shouldn’t she have told us first? I’m disappointed.”

“That’s amazing!” Luna beamed, genuinely delighted. “She must be swamped with successor training alone.”

Unlike Luna’s enthusiasm, Carne’s face clouded slightly.

“…You know, Luna…”

“What’s wrong?”

Carne, about to say something serious, shook her head. “…No. It’ll just sour the mood.”

Luna pressed her, eyes glinting with curiosity. “What do you mean? You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”

Caught under Luna’s eager stare, Carne wavered between truth and evasion. Knowing Luna would dig relentlessly if she dodged, she opted for honesty.

“…I ran into Yuri outside a while ago.”

When Carne had spotted Yuri and greeted her warmly, Yuri returned the gesture. During their brief chat, Carne brought up the past.

“I miss when the four of us hung out together. It was noisy and fun back then.”

Yuri’s response was odd.

“…Four people? What are you talking about? Our team’s always been three.”

Puzzled by the reply, Carne pressed her with everything she knew about Saya. But Yuri only said, “I’ve never heard that name before.”

Carne drained the tea Luna had brewed, set the cup down, and spoke. “…She’d forgotten Saya even existed.”

Yuri visited Violet, who suggested she seemed overworked and urged her to take a break. ascended. Following his advice, she stepped outside the academy for fresh air—the first time in a while—and encountered a bustling scene.

…Soldiers?

Seeing imperial soldiers moving hurriedly, Yuri approached one and asked, “What’s going on?”

“Who is it? I’m busy right now—”

The soldier froze upon recognizing her, saluting stiffly. “…Oh, a Spirit Master…! What brings you here…?”

“Skip the formalities. I’ve noticed the soldiers have been active lately—what’s the reason?”

“Ah, if it’s that…”

He unfurled a large paper he’d been about to post, revealing a bizarre sketch. It depicted a creature with a human-like face and body but with Sarkas-like arms, legs, and a tail.

“This is…?”

“It’s a mysterious creature recently spotted in Sarkas-rich areas. Public anxiety’s rising, so the imperial family’s ordered increased patrols and tightened security.”

She examined the drawing again.

…A human with Sarkas traits.

Intrigued by this anomaly, she asked, “Where does this monster appear most often?”