Twenty-nine years had passed since the death of Himmel the Hero.
For humans, that amount of time was enough for memories to soften and legends to become stories told to children. The world had slowly settled after the defeat of the Demon King. Kingdoms rebuilt their borders. Trade routes reopened. Villages that once lived in fear began to grow again.
But demons had not disappeared.
Far to the north, beyond the safe territories of the Central Lands, demon-controlled regions still existed. The Northern Lands remained dangerous, unforgiving territory where even skilled adventurers risked their lives.
And in the center of the magical world stood the Magic City of Äußerst. The headquarters of the Continental Magic Association.
A city where magic ruled everything.
At the heart of the city rose a massive tower of pale stone. Within its highest chamber was the throne room of the greatest mage in the modern era.
The room was vast.
Tall pillars of white marble lined the hall. Sunlight streamed through towering windows, illuminating the polished stone floor in long golden beams. Ancient magical symbols were carved into the walls, remnants of spells older than most nations.
At the far end of the chamber sat a throne.
And on that throne sat Serie.
The elf mage rested calmly against the back of the seat, one leg crossed over the other. Her long yellow hair flowed down her back like sunlight, and her eyes carried the quiet indifference of someone who had lived through centuries of history.
Her presence alone made most mages tremble.
But the boy standing before her clearly did not care.
"You're not listening to me."
The voice belonged to Shamrock.
Thirteen years old of age.
Messy dark green hair. Bright, stubborn eyes. A posture that suggested he was completely comfortable arguing with the most terrifying mage in the world.
His arms were crossed as he stared up at Serie with clear irritation.
Standing slightly behind him were two other figures.
Lernen, one of the most respected mages of the Association, watched the exchange with a worried expression.
Leaning casually against a pillar nearby was Sense, a First-Class Mage with long braids of dark hair, quietly observing the argument like it was an interesting performance.
Serie looked down at Shamrock without the slightest change in expression.
"I am listening," she replied calmly.
Shamrock frowned.
"No you're not."
"I am."
"You're not."
Lernen sighed quietly.
The argument had been going on for several minutes already.
Shamrock stepped forward.
"I told you already. I want to leave the city."
Serie tilted her head slightly.
"And go where?"
"The Northern Lands."
The words settled in the air.
Lernen's expression tightened slightly.
Sense simply raised an eyebrow.
Serie remained completely calm.
"And why," she asked, "would you want to go there?"
Shamrock answered immediately.
"To fight demons."
His voice carried a sharp seriousness that contrasted with his usual playful tone.
"There are still demon attacks happening in the north," he continued. "Villages get wiped out. People die. Adventurers disappear."
His fists tightened slightly.
"I want to do something about it."
The throne room fell quiet.
Serie studied him for a moment.
Then she spoke.
"No."
The answer was immediate.
Shamrock blinked.
"…No?"
"You cannot go."
His eye twitched slightly.
"And why not?"
Serie answered without hesitation.
"You cannot use magic."
Shamrock groaned.
"That again?"
"You also do not possess the title of First-Class Mage," Serie continued calmly.
She rested her chin against her hand.
"Without the supervision of a First-Class Mage, entry into the Northern Lands is restricted."
Shamrock threw his hands into the air.
"Well whose fault is that?!"
Serie ignored the outburst.
"You are not a mage," she said simply.
Her gaze remained steady.
"You are merely a warrior."
The words landed bluntly.
"How," Serie continued, "do you intend to survive in demon territory without magic?"
Shamrock clenched his teeth.
"I've trained my whole life!"
"That does not change the fact that you are weak."
Lernen winced slightly.
Serie's voice remained perfectly calm.
"If you go to the Northern Lands as you are now," she said, "you will die."
Shamrock glared at her.
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do."
Her certainty only made him more frustrated.
"I can fight!" Shamrock insisted.
"I've beaten most of the warriors in this city already."
"None of them are demons."
"I'll figure it out!"
Serie's eyes narrowed slightly.
"That is not a strategy."
Shamrock ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered.
"You say I can't go north because I'm not a First-Class Mage."
"That is correct."
"But you won't let me take the First-Class Mage Exam!"
"That is also correct."
Shamrock stared at her.
"That makes no sense!"
Serie remained completely unmoved.
"You cannot cast magic," she said.
"The First-Class Mage Exam is for mages."
Shamrock scoffed loudly.
"Yeah? And who decided that?"
"The Continental Magic Association."
"And who runs that?"
Serie did not respond.
Shamrock pointed at her.
"Exactly!"
Lernen raised a hand gently.
"Shamrock, perhaps we should calm down—"
"Lernen," Shamrock said quickly.
Lernen paused.
"I respect you," Shamrock continued.
"Truly."
Lernen blinked.
"But this conversation is between me and Serie."
The mage slowly lowered his hand again.
Sense covered her mouth slightly, hiding a small amused smile.
Shamrock turned back toward the throne.
"You've been holding me back this whole time."
"That is incorrect."
"Oh really?"
"Yes."
Serie's voice remained even.
"I have been preventing you from dying."
Shamrock stared at her.
"You always say that."
"Because it is true."
The boy exhaled sharply through his nose.
"I'm going anyway."
Serie's expression didn't change.
"You will die."
"I won't."
"You will."
"Then I'll prove you wrong."
The room went quiet.
Shamrock turned around and began walking toward the massive doors of the throne room.
Halfway there, he stopped.
Without turning around, he spoke again.
"You know what the worst part is?"
No one answered.
"You always talk like you know everything."
His voice carried a mixture of frustration and hurt.
"But you never even gave me a chance."
Then Shamrock continued walking.
The enormous doors creaked open.
"I'm still going," he said.
"And when I come back alive…"
He glanced over his shoulder briefly.
"…you're going to admit you were wrong."
The doors slammed shut behind him.
The echo rang through the hall.
Silence returned.
Lernen sighed.
"That boy…"
Sense pushed herself off the pillar.
"He's energetic."
"That is not the word I would use."
Serie remained completely still on her throne.
Sense glanced toward her.
"Serie-sama."
Serie said nothing.
"I've been working under you for a very long time."
"Correct."
Sense folded her arms.
"But there's something I still don't understand."
Lernen glanced toward her curiously.
Sense continued.
"Why did you keep him?"
The question lingered in the air.
"He can't use magic."
She shrugged slightly.
"I mean, I like him. He's cute."
Lernen coughed awkwardly.
"But even I have to admit… it's strange."
She looked toward the door Shamrock had left through.
"You chose to raise a human child who can't even cast the most basic spell."
Sense looked back toward the throne.
"So why?"
Serie was quiet for a moment.
Then she spoke.
"I never told you, did I?"
Sense tilted her head.
"Told me what?"
Serie's eyes shifted slightly, recalling an old memory.
"When I first met Shamrock…"
Her voice was calm.
"He was six years old."
Lernen listened closely.
"And the thing that surprised me the most…"
Serie continued.
"…was the enormous amount of mana that child possessed."
Sense nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"That much is obvious even now."
She glanced toward the door.
"Shamrock has a ridiculous amount of mana."
Lernen frowned thoughtfully.
"At this point… it might even rival a demon."
Sense nodded.
"Indeed."
"But despite that…"
She smiled faintly.
"…he still cannot use magic."
A strange contradiction.
Serie looked toward the distant windows.
"For some reason," she said quietly,
"I still believe he might do something special."
Her voice was soft, but certain.
"Or…"
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"…he will become a profound disappointment."
Sense smirked.
"Or maybe…"
She leaned slightly forward.
"It's because you've grown attached to him, Serie-sama."
Serie responded instantly.
"You are mistaken."
Sense chuckled.
"Of course."
She stretched her arms slightly before turning toward the door.
"Anyway."
She glanced over her shoulder.
"You want me to check on him, don't you?"
Serie answered without looking at her.
"That is your job."
Sense grinned.
"Right."
She walked toward the exit.
But before leaving, she stopped again.
"Still…"
She smiled mischievously.
"It's because you care, isn't it?"
Serie didn't respond.
Sense laughed softly and left the room.
The doors closed behind her.
Now only two figures remained.
Lernen looked toward the elf on the throne.
"…Do you truly believe he will accomplish something special?"
Serie didn't answer immediately.
Sunlight shifted across the floor.
Then slowly…
A small smile appeared on her lips.
A rare expression.
"Yes," she said quietly.
---
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