Standing outside the window, Abel listened to the diagnosis, his brow deeply furrowed. Six months was far too long.
After Ted fell asleep, a teleportation magic circle appeared without a sound. Abel emerged from it, resolved to intervene in a more direct manner. He had originally intended to test the medical standards of this era, but now he abandoned that idea.
Magic gathered in his hands, enveloping Ted's injuries. First he erased every trace of Bors's magic. Then, using a far more refined technique, he knit the bones together and accelerated the healing. Throughout it all Ted lay peacefully, lost in sleep. Looking at his sleeping face, Abel felt a deep wave of guilt wash over him. Before he left, he whispered softly, "I'm sorry."
The next morning Abel opened the door and found Bors standing there with a shaved head. He almost didn't recognize him, and called out his name hesitantly.
Bors immediately exploded, like a man who had been stepped on, flying into a fury. But the next second the back of his head received a solid punch. It was his father, Ivan. He knelt on one knee and apologized for his son's foolish behavior.
Bors couldn't understand why his father would bow to a mere commoner. He was nothing more than the younger brother of their maid.
Those words earned him another punch from his father. Ivan finally revealed the truth. It wasn't that their family had hired Lilith. Quite the opposite. It was Lady Lilith who had been employing their entire family all along.
Bors stood rooted to the spot, his entire worldview shattered.
And Abel at last understood. The question that had long puzzled him was finally answered. He had long wondered why Lilith, a high-ranking demon, kept such a low profile. It turned out to be the survival wisdom of the demon race living within human society: outwardly playing the role of an obedient servant, while quietly and skillfully leveraging the power of the nobility behind the scenes.
After that, Bors disappeared from town. Word had it he had gone to study at a top magic academy.
Ivan gathered Ted close and told him of the past. When Ivan was young, he had been attacked by a monster in the forest. It was Lilith who had appeared like a divine being and saved his life. Afterward she had supported him in many ways and taught him the knowledge of magic. Whatever their formal relationship, she was the benefactor and the neighbor he deeply respected. He told Ted to get along well with that pair of siblings.
Ted agreed with a grin. He had long since come to think of Abel as his closest friend.
That afternoon Ted slipped into Abel's study as usual, but this time he called out "Master" with a beaming grin. Abel turned with a sigh, wondering what scheme the kid had cooked up this time.
Two years slipped by in a tumble of bickering and laughter. It was one of the rare stretches of leisure in his long life. Abel gradually grew familiar with this world two hundred years in the future, and Ted, too, had shed his childishness. His magic had progressed with remarkable speed. He could now cast fire magic with real skill, and the power behind it was nothing to dismiss. Abel watched him with a smile of genuine approval.
Ted then invited him to take the entrance exam with him tomorrow.
The invitation gave Abel pause. He went to ask Lilith why someone who had already stood at the pinnacle two hundred years ago needed to go to school now.
But Lilith fired back. If he didn't attend the academy, how did he plan to make a living?
He said he would become an adventurer, just as he had before. Lilith informed him that the profession of adventurer had been abolished for ten years now. In a time of peace it was a profession without a purpose. She pointed out that if he wanted to work in any magic-related field, formal education was a must. Then she added, with a teasing smile, whether he really wanted to spend his days as her kept boy.
Those words finally made him relent and agree to take the exam.
The next day Ted eagerly led him through the gates of the kingdom's foremost magic academy. Beyond the grand gates, whispers and contemptuous glances followed them like shadows. The enrolled students behind them discussed his inferior eyes without even bothering to keep their voices down. They mocked how far the academy had fallen, to let someone like him sit the entrance exam.
Abel thought the character of these noble children was remarkably poor. But Ted beside him was already hopping mad, furiously taking his side.
Just then a clear, sharp female voice rang out and silenced them. She accused them of ganging up to slander someone behind their back, behavior utterly unbecoming of nobles.
Abel turned around and saw a familiar crest gleaming on the girl's chest. He had a sense that he had seen that emblem somewhere before.
The instigators arrogantly demanded to know who she was, and the girl held her head high as she introduced herself. Her name was Alyssa, and her goal was to become a great mage whose name would echo through history.
A clash seemed inevitable. The others wanted to teach this presumptuous exam candidate a lesson. Alyssa simply stepped back in silence, and then a blade flashed. The sharp tip of her sword was pointed straight at them, the motion clean and swift. Abel noted inwardly that her swordsmanship was quite impressive.
Alyssa told them coldly to get out of her sight. The instigators retreated in embarrassment, tossing out a threat to save face as they went.
Abel felt he ought to thank her, so he called out to stop her. Alyssa didn't stop, so he reached out to hold her back, but she slapped his hand away with sharp force. She snapped at him that he was a mere commoner and had no business touching her. She made it clear that she simply despised people who talked behind others' backs. She wasn't there to help a commoner. She turned and walked away, stating that she was only interested in people of true strength.
Ted was once again infuriated by her arrogance. He shouted that she had no idea what real strength looked like.
Abel, however, watched her retreating figure with a nagging feeling that he had seen that face somewhere before.
Next came the written portion of the entrance exam. For Abel the written exam was laughably easy, until the final subject, magical engineering, where the difficulty suddenly spiked. That last question was clearly designed to prevent anyone from scoring perfectly. He thought for a moment, and a smile crept to the corner of his lips. What a laughably fitting coincidence, because the person who had derived that theorem was none other than himself, two hundred years ago.
When the written exam concluded, everyone was led out to an open field. What awaited them next was a practical skills test.