Chapter 38: The First Piece (2)

[38] 6. The First Piece (2)

A wise person, by definition, ultimately seeks good. The rope of wisdom is intertwined with that of morality, and knowledge is the basis for good.

Therefore, it is only natural that I, a genius of the century, bow my head and apologize. In other words, it’s definitely not something to be embarrassed about.

“I-I’m so sorry… I didn’t know…”

The same goes for expressing gratitude.

“And th-thank you… for… carrying me to the infirmary when I fainted…”

This redness on my face is surely a symptom of some kind of illness, as is this trembling voice.

I am definitely not dying of embarrassment.

Absolutely not.

But the boy, no, Rem, is a suspicious one. As he looked at me with an unreadable expression, he spoke with a sigh.

“Well, I was also at fault. It wasn’t exactly normal to pop out your eye to prove you’re blind.”

Then, crossing his arms, Rem changed the subject.

“So, can you tell me why you suddenly came to see me? With words, preferably. Or you could write it down with a magic pen if you have one.”

“Y-Yeah… About that…”

With that, I was finally able to ask him the questions I had prepared about the creative ideas and expertise demonstrated in his answer sheet.

Rem’s answers were truly insightful and detailed. He effortlessly answered all my questions. It was not a reaction that would come from someone who had simply copied someone else’s work.

So, the boy wasn’t a dirty little cheater after all, but another intellectual of this era, just like me.

How shameful I had been to misjudge him and to doubt him so blindly!

The more we talked, the more my conscience weighed on me.

How should I atone…

“By the way, you were the previous top student, right?”

Previous top student.

That vulgar phrase scraped at my heart, making me feel incredibly unpleasant.

But Rem’s empathy, it seems, is not as well developed as his intelligence, because he continued to choose the most annoying words.

“Professor Killian said that if I became the top student, the previous one would surely come and cause a fuss.”

Ugh.

“Well, I understand that you must feel frustrated about losing your position, but what can I do? That’s competition. It’s not uncommon for a rolling stone to gather no moss, you know?” (TL Note: ‘A rolling stone gathers no moss’ meaning a person who has only recently come in from outside tries to drive out or harm a person who has been there for a long time.)

*Grind*

“But don’t worry too much. I won’t be here long anyway. Just think of it as lending your position to me for a while.”

*Grind, grind*

“And if you’re really mad…”

“I-I haven’t lost yet!!”

Oh, God.

Why are you making me succumb to my emotions?

Without realizing it, I jumped to my feet and shouted at him, pointing my finger accusingly.

“I, I was just not feeling well during the last exam! Normally, I would have easily beaten someone like you!”

But what appeared on his expression is not one of concern, but amusement.

It was the expression like a lion looking at a mouse challenging it.

Once again, I could not control my emotions.

“J-Just you wait!! I’ll get the top spot next time!!”

And I ran out of the room like a defeated soldier,

while asking myself existential questions about why intelligence and temperament seemed to be inversely proportional.

***

(TL Note: Just a quick reminder that this is rem and the captain’s convos, I don’t know why the author decided to make it the captain? But I think this is back when Rem and Rose were in the tent, and essentially told her his life story.)

“Vice-Captain, why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Why did you provoke her? You knew she’d react that way.”

“Uh… Hmm… Well… just because?”

“…Vice-Captain, are you an asshole?”

“No, it’s not like that… It’s just, her, back then. It felt like…”

“Like what?”

“Like… I wanted to provoke her?”

“Provoke? The mage tower master’s only daughter? Did you even think about the consequences?”

“I didn’t really think about that. I told you, I only plan on staying for a month.”

***

Only an incompetent general wishes for a dramatic victory in battle. That is the ultimate laziness—proof of a complacent mind that relies on luck.

Wise men know this.

Victory isn’t determined during the battle, but before it even begins.

Even before the trumpeter raises his horn, the victor must already have victory in hand.

And to achieve that, three things are required.

First, a firm determination to win the battle.

Second, an objective evaluation of one’s strengths and weaknesses.

And third…

“…You want me to tell you about Rem?”

Detailed information on the enemy.

Marianne frowned, seemingly puzzled by my question.

“Well, I can tell you about him… but why?”

Another ignorant response. Sighing at her lack of insight, I replied.

“Why else, you idiot? To take back my spot at the top.”

“…Then shouldn’t you be studying hard at the library, you fool? Instead of asking about *him*?”

This is why conversations with fools are so tiring. They cannot even remember basic logic or what the ancient wise men said.

“‘If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles’ Don’t you know this? “ (TL Note: Sun Tzu reference lmao)

“I don’t think you’re using that saying correctly…”

“So are you going to tell me or not?”

“Well, it’s not as if I have anything to hide…”

Marianne rested her chin on her hand and looked at me.

“Honestly, I’m just surprised you don’t know him.”

“Why?”

“He’s famous.”

“For what?”

It was a question filled with anticipation.

What was his fame based on?

His intellect? Bold ideas? Skillful formula design abilities?

But Marianne’s answer was not what I had expected.

“For being good-looking.”

My face must have shown my disappointment, because Marianne’s frown deepened.

“No, you saw him, right? I mean, he’s not breathtakingly handsome, but he’s definitely top tier. He’s tall and well built too.”

I couldn’t help lamenting the current state of the world.

To think that magic students, who should have been dedicating their energy to unraveling the essence of magic, were fawning over some guy!

Just as my mother says, It is both a tragedy and a virtue.

“Of course, the fact that he’s blind and is missing a hand is a bit of a… flaw, but…”

“Wait, you’re saying he doesn’t have a hand?”

I asked in surprise. Marianne looked at me, even more bewildered.

“You didn’t know? That’s why he wears an oversized robe, to cover his wrist.”

“Ah.”

That finally explains his ridiculous attire.

Marianne frowned.

“You always say that I lack insight and that I have no intuition, but look at you, you didn’t even know something like this…”

Why are the minds of fools so narrow!

Even ancient sages make mistakes!

Cutting her off firmly, I asked,

“Enough…! Start by telling me how he got into the magic tower.”

Marianne pouted, but then readily answered me.

“I don’t know the details, but I heard Professor Killian brought him. Apparently, he was his disciple but not an academy student. Then Killian suddenly brought him here this semester.”

“Professor Killian?”

I raised an eyebrow.

It was like looking at a potion made by mixing Adalia extract and Delis oil.

In other words, Rem and Professor Killian didn’t match at all.

Professor Killian wasn’t an ignorant, but he was worse than a fool.

Strict, gloomy, arrogant.

His skeletal body seemed thin not from starvation, but from using all its energy to fuel some hidden, powerful force.

While Rem, on the other hand, well…

Although I hadn’t had much interaction with him, he seemed like a good person, apart from his arrogance and abrasive personality.

Though he often seemed lethargic, with drooping, sleepy eyes, he didn’t seem lazy.

And although he often smiled, he didn’t seem frivolous.

In particular, his unique, gentle voice lent persuasiveness even to his words.

He was a textbook example of an intellectual.

Comparing the two, the contrast was even more stark.

Rem and Professor Killian were too different, so much so that it was hard to even imagine them having a conversation.

“Right? They don’t match at all, do they? But you know what’s strange?”

“What?”

Marianne lowered her voice, as if sharing a secret.

“I heard that he’s always in Killian’s laboratory.”

But my reaction was lackluster.

“So what?”

If he really was Professor Killian’s disciple, then it made sense for him to spend most of his time in the laboratory. It was not something to make a fuss about.

But Marianne, like a typical fool, pouted.

“What do you mean, ‘so what’? Aren’t you curious about what they’re doing in there?”

“Not at all.”

What else could a master and a disciple be doing in the same room, other than exchanging knowledge? Shaking my head, I said,

“Tell me something more useful, like how he studies, what approach he takes to magic formulas…”

Now Marianne frowned. Shrugging her shoulders, she said,

“I don’t know anything beyond that. I told you, he’s always holed up in the lab. And besides, he’s really private about his personal life.”

Right, he’s someone who lost both his eyes and a hand. It’s understandable that his past wasn’t easy.

He probably doesn’t want to be reminded of it.

Of course, that’s no excuse for Marianne’s useless answers.

Crossing my arms, I narrowed my eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t know anything else?”

“Yes, I’m sure. If I did, I would tell you.”

I suppressed a sigh. What else should I expect from a fool, I thought.

Just as I was getting up from my seat…

“Oh, I did hear he goes to the library when he’s not in the lab. Library 7, Section C.”

Marianne added this as an afterthought.

Finally, a useful piece of information.

***

The magic tower is a treasury of knowledge.

Those with any sense must knock on its door at least once, and those who don’t will look at its peak with longing in their eyes.

Reason, rationality, insight, and above all, knowledge.

The streams of knowledge flow from every corner of the continent and converge here.

It goes without saying that libraries, considered storehouses of knowledge, are precious to the magic tower.

There are seven massive libraries, each specializing in a different field.

With a total of 51 sections, divided by more specialized topics.

The number of books was seven times that of the national library’s collection, which those fools in the capital were always so proud of.

To say that every book on the continent is collected here would not be an exaggeration, but a statement of fact.

And within this treasury, Library 7, Section C was a storing place for the rarest treasures.

It was a collection of books on magic, especially related to magic circles.

Just as an appraiser can spot a treasure at a glance, an intellect recognizes the value of this place.

Peeking out from behind a thick book, I observed Rem sitting across from me, reading.

He was using telekinesis to compensate for his missing hand.

Shimmering waves of blue mana turned the pages and picked up pens, making them dance across the paper.

The letters that he was reading and writing emitted a faint light…

It’s a type of support magic that enables even a blind man to read.

The formula was complex and well-made—even at a glance.

It was natural for me, as a mage, to be drawn to a well-crafted magic formula, but I forced my gaze away.

If I look at it, he might sense my presence.

Instead, I studied the books piled up beside him, memorizing each and every title.

I also memorized the words he was writing and the magic circles that he was drawing.

Some might ridicule my actions, asking how I could ever hope to regain the top spot in this way, resorting to spying.

To them, I say that I pity them. I pity their misfortune to navigate life with such narrow vision.

Just as a seed cannot sprout without soil,

wisdom cannot bloom without knowledge.

Rem’s clever and ingenious solutions weren’t conjured out of thin air, but were products of his knowledge.

And where is that knowledge based from?

On those stacks of books.

Those books, combined with his intelligence, became ingenuity.

And who am I?

The genius of the century, the next master of the Magic Tower, the finest work of art created by God, the sage’s only daughter.

If I acquire the same knowledge, I can come up with even better ideas than him.

As soon as he leaves this library, I am going to memorize every word in those books.

I burned with ambition.

…

…

…

… And without realizing it, I had slumped down in my chair, forgetting to hide.

Gazing out the window,

I saw the moon, already high overhead, slowly sinking towards the western horizon, reminding me that even night comes to an end.

Turning back to Rem, I saw that

he was still reading, his speed and posture unchanged. He showed no signs of fatigue.

…Why isn’t he leaving…?

Of course, even I, a genius of the century with extraordinary focus, sometimes do that. I once spent three days and nights just reading.

But I, unlike him, didn’t need magic to read.

I have eyes that can read even without support magic,

and hands that can turn pages even without telekinesis.

And magic, of course, is mentally and physically exhausting and so is proper reading.

How much willpower is required to maintain focus, while using your brain for hours on end?

I peered at Rem again. More accurately, at his eyes.

They were made of cold glass, but for some reason they seemed to burn.

That sight proves that intelligence is not achieved without effort.

It was inspiring, but I felt a strange sadness in my heart.

…Maybe it’s because it reminded me of a girl who poked her thigh with the sharp tip of a pen to stay awake.

Rubbing my thigh, I collapsed onto the desk, suddenly swept by a wave of sleepiness.

Usually, I suppress it with medication. I started to reach into my pocket for the medicine, but stopped my hand.

He probably won’t be leaving soon.

Right, I’m just going to close my eyes for a bit.

And… When I wake up… I’ll read the books he’s been reading… Then I’ll regain the top spot…

Then, I fell asleep.

…

…

…

Sharp sunlight stabbed me in the eyes.

I groaned, sat up, and stretched. Then, glancing out the window, I saw the midday sun.

The midday sun bestowed warmth on the dust particles in the air and the faded books.

It made my heart calm… Wait, what? Books? And midday?

I jumped out of my seat and looked around.

The library came into view. But Rem was nowhere in sight.

Then, I felt a piece of paper on the back of my neck.

I nervously grabbed the note stuck to the back of my neck. And unfolded it to read.

Inside, in the same handwriting as on Rem’s answer sheet, it read:

[Go to bed if you are sleepy]

…Shame and anger, so powerful that they made me clutch the back of my neck.