1

Two swordswomen faced each other in a lawn-kept garden, while some distance away, a single young man watched with silver hair fluttering in the wind.

In that well-maintained garden, the brutal incident’s scars—so severe the ground had once been torn up enough to grow crops—had been wiped away without a trace.

The soil that had been churned up by the swordfight between Sophia and Ains, the chaos that had turned everything upside down—none of it remained.

As expected of the Santia Kingdom’s long-established nobility: the Brandy Marquess Family’s estate. A garden reflected a house’s refinement. No matter how enormous the expense, no matter how furious it made one feel—furious enough to snap a vein—there was a marquess house’s composure in gritting one’s teeth, keeping a straight face, and restoring serenity.

“It really is completely back to normal. I’ve never seen Father that angry.”

Kansas Brandy, the current head of the marquess house, was known for his mild temperament, yet even he had raged in that incident—so much that he surprised himself.

Seated at a table in the garden, Laika watched them while sipping the black tea Riste poured for her.

Laika Brandy, daughter of the Brandy Marquess Family’s current head, Kansas Brandy. With her wavy red hair draped over her shoulder, her gaze rested on the silver-haired young man.

She had known him for less than a month. Still, she wanted to believe that the intense time they had spent together—sharing meals and lodging, having him teach her magic for the Sorcery Academy entrance exam—had made their relationship a friendly one.

They were in the lull before the results announcement. Laika felt she had done well on the exam and had no doubt she would pass. With no worries weighing on her, she could calmly enjoy the flavor of the tea leaves.

If anything, she was only holding back her excitement for life at the academy.

The silver-haired young man she watched was Ains Silvetas. He was the one called the Demon God—the Silver Snow Sorcerer—and the author of the Original Canon, known as Ains Silverta. The reading of the written name had been passed down incorrectly, but he was that very Silver Snow Sorcerer.

His appearance was unusual, and the first things that stood out were his left leg and right arm.

His left leg was missing below the knee, and a simple wooden prosthetic had been attached to support his walking. It was the kind of prosthetic that made walking difficult without a cane, yet Ains had lived with it for a very long time. He could walk without a cane, and more than that—he could even perform the intense footwork of swordsmanship with ease, as if it were part of his body.

When her gaze moved upward from his left leg, the next thing was his right arm.

Over a long-sleeved dress shirt, he wore a jacket tailored from black dragon hide. However, no hand could be seen from the right sleeve of the shirt.

When the wind blew, the entire right sleeve, from the shoulder down, fluttered empty.

Near the shoulder of that empty sleeve, a white glove meant for a right hand—its purpose unclear to outsiders—had been fastened.

If you lifted your eyes higher still, you could see his well-shaped face. With long silver hair and an androgynous face with refined features, he could be mistaken for a woman if you didn’t hear his voice.

Most distinctive were his eyes. His left eye was a clear blue, but his right eye was clouded white, reflecting nothing.

Despite such severe physical loss, Ains possessed outstanding movement and was also skilled with the sword.

In fact, the two swordsmen before him—Sophia, and Talidge, a former swordsman of the Gairin Empire whose butler outfit didn’t suit him at all—had both lost to Ains in a pure exchange of blades.

“As expected of a swordsman at the Empire’s Sword King level. If it were the old me, I wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

Sophia faced Talidge, whose massive frame had every joint knotted with muscle.

With her hair tied back into a ponytail, she was the complete opposite of Talidge: slim, with a tightly trained body like a sprinter’s.

With that whip-like suppleness, she checked the numbness in her hand and raised her sword again.

“Honestly, I never expected the kingdom to have a woman this good with the blade.”

“I’m honored by the praise, but that doesn’t mean I can give up Lord Ains’s right arm.”

Talidge let out a sigh—like, “No, I’m telling you, I don’t even care about that”—but Sophia, instead, took it as provocation.

So as not to damage the surroundings, they each applied the bare minimum of physical enhancement and exchanged blows.

Their builds, their musculature, their handling of the sword—even their personalities—were complete opposites. Watching these two extremes, Ains thought something oddly off-target: that the two might actually be compatible.

Both exhaled short breaths and swung sharply. The only sound that rang through the area was steel striking steel.

Ains, in principle, had no interest in swordsmanship. He was only adept at movement and the sword because it contributed to his growth in magic and sorcery—nothing more.

But there was a reason he was watching their spar like this.

According to Ains, he was still in the middle of “questions and answers” with Talidge.

Talidge and Sophia stopped the arms holding their swords, as if to steady their breathing again.

“About Lord Ains’s ‘questions and answers’—I haven’t seen you teaching Talidge any swordsmanship. When have you been instructing him? …Don’t tell me you’ve been doing it in secret where I can’t see?”

With suspicion and jealousy tangled together, Sophia sent Ains a doubtful look.

Ains immediately shook his head at Sophia’s words.

“No, no. This has to do with the nature of magic and the level Talidge is aiming for.”

Ains continued, as if explaining it to Sophia.

Beside them, Talidge listened to Ains’s words—words Ains had said when he promised he would cooperate until Talidge could use “divine technique.”

Sophia was a person of the Santia Kingdom. Even if she excelled at swordsmanship, she was someone steeped in a culture of magic. At her core was rooted culture—magic itself.

Talidge, on the other hand, was a person of the Gairin Empire. Even if magic existed in the empire’s culture, it only played a supporting role in everything. It might be convenient, but its value never rose beyond being a tool that assisted daily life.

Ains repeated what he had explained earlier to Sophia and Laika.

Magic was something that released the mana inside the body to the outside. And when it was released, by giving it some kind of shape, that intangible mana could be output as concrete magic—like a spear of fire or a spear of ice.

“Yes. Lord Ains explained that very clearly, and I also understand how this connects to abbreviated chanting and spell manifestation without chanting.”

Sophia organized her thoughts, then nodded in agreement.