Oren slowly wiped the dust off his face and sighed.

People these days...

As he thought this, he stood up from the ground and brushed off his clothes. He glanced around. Somehow, he’d been blasted out of the inn’s second floor and landed outside, leaving a large crater in the ground.

“Who greets someone’s face with magic on first meeting...”

Muttering, Oren stomped hard on the charred wood beside him, crushing it. Just as he stepped out of the crater, a crisp voice rang above him.

“I’ve never seen a shameless pervert who peeks at girls changing clothes on first meeting!”

With that, the girl who’d blasted him out leaped down from the inn’s second floor. After landing, she spread her hands quickly—two fireballs flared to life in her palms.

“Anyway! You should be ready to die! You pervert! Freak!”

Pervert and all that... that’s really hurtful.

Though he grumbled inwardly, Oren decided not to cause trouble. Mages were as rare as endangered animals here. Back in his hometown, producing two thousand a year was impressive. This girl conjuring fireballs? Definitely a mage. Probably here for the magic academy entrance exam too.

Thinking this, Oren slowly raised his hands and spoke respectfully.

“Um, honestly? I didn’t see anything.”

“What?”

“Ah, how to put it? It was just a flash—I saw nothing. I swear, truly nothing.”

After he finished, the girl lowered her head. After a long pause, she muttered softly.

“You dare...”

“Huh?”

Just as Oren felt he’d stepped on a landmine, she snapped her head up and shouted, voice cracking with tears.

“You dare say my chest is too small! That’s why it was just a flash!”

“Why did it turn out like this!”

Ignoring his near-hysterical cry, she raised her hands—flames boiled in her palms.

“Unforgivable! I’ll make you pay! Burn to ashes!”

She clapped her hands. Flames burst into the air. A ring of fire floated above her head; fire points gathered within it as she chanted loudly in a strange tongue.

Fire magic.

Oren muttered softly. In the Ancient Epoch, humans and dwarves couldn’t wield magic. Only Dragons and Elvenfolk grasped its secrets. Later, a human stole Elvenfolk’s formulas, adapted them, and lifted humanity into magic-wielding ranks.

All modern magic was a degraded version of Elvenfolk magic. Chants still used High Elven—a language no one understood. Mages just memorized sounds by rote.

But Dragon magic? Utterly incomprehensible to humans.

The girl finished her chant. Fire points shot toward Oren as searing rays. He dodged sideways. Amid the explosion’s roar, he raised his hand and made a gesture.

“————”

A series of eerie notes—like noise to human ears, almost inhuman. Oren clenched his fist, then released it.

Boom!

The fire ring shattered instantly. The girl stared in shock at her dispelled magic, muttering.

“Did I mess up the chant... but that’s impossible...”

Indeed, she couldn’t grasp the truth.

Oren straightened slowly and spoke quietly to her.

“Miss, your magic failed. Let’s end this. I won’t strike a mage who can’t cast—it’d be dishonorable.”

Hearing this, she twitched violently. Her hand gripped the sword at her waist.

“Don’t underestimate me...”

Whoosh!

Before she finished, she drew her longsword. Blade gleaming, she shouted.

“I, Lea Rodni! Am no helpless mage!”

Rodni?

For a split second, Oren felt he’d heard that name before. But Lea charged instantly, sword swinging hard at his throat.

“Tch.”

Oren grumbled under his breath, dodging back. His hand went to the longsword on his back—he drew the one-meter blade.

With a clear ring, he pushed off the ground, raising his sword to block hers.

Clang!

Before their blades met, another longsword intercepted them. It forced both back several steps. As Oren steadied himself, a woman’s voice cut through.

“Stop. Both of you.”

The newcomer wore a white robe. Lea regained her balance and shouted.

“Who are you? Why interfere!”

“Who am I? Ellen Demir, Captain of Raging Tide City Enforcement.”

Ellen raised her sword, aiming at Lea.

“And you—outsider—what are you doing?”

Lea stepped back slowly under the accusation.

“Duke Sidius’s law forbids random magic use in public! Didn’t you research before coming here?”

“But, Captain, this rogue started it...”

Rogue, pervert, freak... this lady had quite the vocabulary.

While Oren mused inwardly, Ellen swung her sword firmly.

“I know you’re here for exams. I’ll let you go this once. Next time, I’ll exile you under the Duke’s authority.”

Hearing her resolute tone, Lea grumbled but sheathed her sword. As she left, she shot Oren a fierce glare.

Ah... she won’t let me stay tonight.

Just as Oren pondered lodging, Captain Ellen approached him.

“Your name is Oren, right?”

“Huh? Ah, yes—Oren... um, Oren of Nivea.”

He’d forgotten his old family name, so he tacked on a random place he’d visited. Ellen didn’t seem to mind. She nodded slightly.

“I thought you’d stay here. Follow me—the magic academy headmaster wants to see you.”

“The academy? Helistar Academy’s headmaster?”

Helistar Academy was the world’s largest and Sidius’s only magic academy. It admitted anyone and researched magic broadly. Oren’s hometown academy, Raven Tree Tower in New Capital, was different—noble-only, focused solely on combat magic. Its professors scoffed at practical applications as nonsense.

Helistar’s headmaster was hailed as the world’s second-strongest mage. Though number one—Aston Higgins, Raven Tree Tower’s top lecturer—mastered battle magic, Helistar’s leader surpassed him in versatility.

Why would such a person seek me?

Before Oren could dwell, Ellen added.

“Actually, it’s not the headmaster. Princess Silver Dragon asked him to bring you to the academy—he sent me to escort you.”

“Princess Silver Dragon?”

Oren shuddered. He leaned close to Ellen.

“Dysaia? Where is she now?”

“Calm down, Lord Oren.”

Ellen paused.

“Her Majesty is at the academy. She asked me to say she eagerly awaits your meeting.”