Vol. 1 - Ch. 286 - Interlude - Melancholy, Sunset, and Scuffle (1)

A month had already passed since we’d moved up to second-year.

One afternoon after class, I sat alone on the riverbank, knees glued to my chest, watching boats drift along the great Rune River as the sun slowly sank.

It wasn’t as though I had any real purpose in doing so. I was simply enjoying the idea of sitting alone by the river at sunset, looking all forlorn in a bit of melodramatic sentimentality.

On the Rune River, the Royal Academy’s Sail Club, led by Dan, was practicing alongside the Knight Order's Second Legion.

People say you can’t put a lid on a gossiping mouth, and despite keeping the details of that transport mission under wraps, once word spread that Dan had been recruited by the Knights, applicants to the Sail Club skyrocketed.

But as the details stood—anyone hoping to join the Sailing Club must first go through the Emission Magic Research Club to learn wind magic. Only a tiny fraction ever get to actually lay a hand on the ship. To be more precise, using the idiots of Magic Research as a metric, they must be a master of flipping at minimum.

A proficiency of this level was minimum to control the dynamic force, and dabble into the brand-new sailing technique. 

Sure, the Royal Academy had the kingdom's finest talent gathered, however they're not master-of-all. With everyone's expertise varying, not everyone had the knack to control mana once projected out of the body, and any amount of training was futile. Meanwhile, one must be capable of finer control of their mana outside, and inside their body to sustain the sailing speed of the ship. 

Apparently, this caliber of talent could only be inherent, and one among many. So far, only Dan—although his training still goes a long way—had displayed any prospect. 

"What he said, you can train to look behind without turning around, is a milestone only a handful of freak of nature can achieve. It's not an ability one can hit just with training," were the words of Justine-senpai when I apprenticed under Master Dew. 

Every participating individual was striving to reach an expertise of a similar magnitude. In order words, they'd have to be not just prodigy, but a freak of a nature, to bring their training to fruition. 

A technique of this caliber was also an incredible asset for scouts, who were already in high demand, and yet, there were individuals like them wholeheartedly striving on their path to sailing. 

......Now that I think of it, doesn't it raise the stock of potato-face by a staggering level? 

Apparently, Glover-san, the commander of 2nd legion, had already given up on learning the wind magic after attempting it. Even Cass-san was having a rough time. 

Now, the Second Legion had handpicked only those with potential aptitude. Including Dan, four academy students and eight knights—twelve in total—were split among three wind-magic assisted sailing training.

So then, why was I hugging my knees on the riverbank, watching all this with a melancholic air? It was a simple reason; I’d gotten yelled at by Dan for disrupting practice too much.

I like to think I’m fairly logical, and—if I do say so myself—I’m pretty good at teaching people things. It's just, the Wind Magic, or Emission Mana Control in basic terms, couldn't do without a knack for it. 

It’s a skill that relies heavily on raw sensation, not logic. Not the sort of thing you can explain into someone’s head. If someone asked how I practiced it, I only had one explanation, "I practiced each day till my mana reserve was as dry as desert, and I had collapsed."

Of course, it also came with a nice "Mana exhausted state isn't for the faint of heart!" cautionary label. 

The training was like simulating an adrenaline rush during a life-or-death moment. You do it by squeezing every single drop of mana to the utmost limit, going even beyond your body's limit.                                                                                                                    

As one continues to repeat the process in a session, at one point, your body would give rise to a temporarily adverse reaction, making it unable to use magic for the duration. And let's not forget the dizziness and nausea that accompanied it. When you collapse, your whole body would be like it's on fire. 

I got sidetracked, but it turned out I sucked at teaching Wind Magic. 

As I had said, I was quite a logical person myself, and knew that each person had their way of training their senses, and that too much prattle could even end up causing adverse effects. However, anything about Wind Magic drew me as perfectly as a moth to a flame. 

I kept giving advice regardless of anyone's intention, and attempted some live demonstration on new sailing techniques—again, completely voluntary, ignoring everyone's wishes—which nearly caused the ship to sink... quite a few times. Dan finally snapped, and ordered me to leave the ship.

I argued that I must stay as the supervisor, however that potato-face shot me down, saying "On the ship, there's only one rule, and that's Captain's order are absolute" and had to be disembarked.

Begrudingly—and also because I was aware of my fault—I stepped off the ship. And, that's the gist of my wallowing in my melancholy, while I gazed at the frequenting ships with sunset as the background by riverside.

◆◆◆

"Pfft! Hey, would you look at it? Someone is using bushes as the shade to pour their tears out."

"Geeh, you're right! ...I didn't notice him at all, nice one, Riddle."

“What’s with that smile on his face…? He’s got tears in his eyes but he’s smiling… That’s creepy.”

A group of three boys, students at a nearby nautical vocational school, were greeted by a strange sight. They saw a boy squatting inside the bushes, a smile glued to his face, by the riverside, ignoring the unoccupied bench just beside him.

His gaze wandered vaguely toward the passing ships, and his eyes glimmered with the beginnings of tears.

“...Don't poke him out, Riddle. He could be a scoundrel, and you wouldn't want to entangle with him."

One of the boys, Riddle, took his steps toward the melancholic boy, and it was clear he was up to no good from his expression. One of his friends tried to stop him. 

"Pfft! Come on. You see him? You really think a brat mopping in the shade of bushes would be capable of that? He's just some random nobody. If anything, it would be too pitiful if we don't pick on him."

"I know, right. With how he's looked at the ships, he must have liked them, but just couldn't get into the schools. I wonder if he came from an explorer's family? We can teach him how harsh the world of seafaring is, and maybe collect a little tuition fee. Win-win.”

In this world, the life of a sailor was always one step from death due to the aquatic monsters alone making injuries and fatalities absurdly common.

Of course, sailors, much like explorers, tend to be a rough bunch, and because their work demands teamwork and long periods of communal living, their hierarchy is even stricter than that of explorers. Often, the one on the lower rungs had to face through much oppression, enabling their frustrations to stew.

The boy, who had tried to Riddle at first, sighed and shook his head.

“Good grief… we’re in uniform today, remember? Don’t say our names.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

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