Chapter 8: Enrollment

In a small two-story wooden cabin not far from the outer edge of Zelion, the imperial capital—

The young man had just brought out a steaming hot breakfast when a woman with messy purple hair pushed open the door, rubbing her drowsy eyes, and lazily took a seat at the dining table.

“What’s for breakfast today?”

The boy didn’t answer, and the woman was already used to his attitude. She glanced at the table.

“Oh, looks good.”

The boy sat opposite her, and the two ate breakfast together in tacit understanding.

Three years had passed. Merlin was now fifteen.

He still thought of that girl from time to time, but at least the memories no longer stung so much.

Ophelia treated Merlin as her own child, devotedly teaching him alchemy every day in the forest.

Although Ophelia constantly praised Merlin’s talent, since there were no peers to compare with, Merlin had no idea how skilled he actually was at alchemy.

Soon after they met, Merlin had followed Ophelia here to live.

“It’s time for you to go to school.”

“What?”

“The Royal Academy of Zelion. You’re old enough now.”

“I’m not going. I can keep learning here anyway.”

Ophelia’s voice hung over the table, lazy as spider silk bathed in morning dew.

“Life isn’t just about studying, you know. There’s a limit to what you can achieve holed up alone researching alchemy. Go make some friends, interact with classmates.”

“Then what about your friends?”

Ophelia’s lips curled in a gentle ripple. This counterattack of Merlin’s was useless against her.

“Me? I have plenty of friends, met them all over the world while traveling. I’ve only been staying around here all these years to raise you.”

“I see.”

“And the other signature on your Recommendation Letter? That’s from a friend of mine, too.”

So she’d secretly prepared the Recommendation Letter as well?

Seeing Merlin fall silent, Ophelia stood up, walked around the table, and flicked Merlin on the forehead.

“What’s there to feel guilty about? And it’s not as if I haven’t raised kids before. Having a talented apprentice is something to be proud of.”

“But I…”

“Is it because of Machina?”

At her question, the only sound left in the forest was the crisp singing of birds.

“So let me ask you, let me ask you.”

Ophelia’s tone grew urgent.

“What?”

“Did you ever do anything to wrong Machina?”

The coffin of memory slammed open. Memories already rotten with mold tangled up from the darkness.

Merlin dug through that heap of musty, foul recollections in his mind, bowed his head, and pondered.

“No.”

“If not, then why is the victim hiding from the culprit? Shouldn’t it be her avoiding you? Don’t you have a clear conscience? What are you running from? Are you really going to throw away your chance at life just to avoid her?”

Back then, even in the northern slums of Hard, you could hear tales of Machina.

Now, living outside the imperial capital, Merlin naturally knew it all as well.

The present-day Machina was a legend in the whole Nation.

She was a magical genius seen only once in decades.

She became Student Council President in just her second year—a child favored by the heavens.

She delved deep into dangerous labyrinths for long stretches, never neglecting her studies, still maintaining her top grades—a hardworking girl.

She was the beautiful maiden who haunted the dreams of countless men.

Over time, her pink eyes had become even more dazzling.

Though, just like three years ago, Merlin only knew of her through rumors.

And as for Merlin himself—

Ophelia looked at the half-eaten breakfast, which now seemed to mirror his current predicament: stuck somewhere in between.

“As long as you’re alive as a human, you can’t avoid Machina in this Nation forever.”

“……”

“You’re already outstanding, you know. After all, you’re my apprentice. I can vouch for you.”

“If only that were true.”

“Oh, just go to school already! Stay cooped up here any longer and your brain will turn to mush. Go out, make some friends. So what if you run into her? It’s not like she’ll beat you up.”

Merlin nodded.

“You’re right.”

“She lives her life, you live yours. As long as you can learn something, it’s fine. Besides, as long as you can graduate from Zelion, you won’t have to worry about your future.”

“Alright, I’ll go. Okay?”

“That’s more like it.”

Ophelia pulled the Recommendation Letter from her Magic Pocket, slammed it down on the table, and shoved it in front of Merlin.

“With the Recommendation Letter, you don’t need to take the entrance exam. Report in two weeks.”

“Got it.”

After that, Ophelia said no more. The two continued quietly with their breakfast.

As Merlin ate, he picked up his now lukewarm coffee, seeing his own reflection ripple in the dark surface.

That face had lost its boyishness, the features now delicate and refined. Yet the confusion in his eyes hadn’t changed at all from three years ago.

But what about inside?

Could he really study alongside those geniuses and nobles like Machina?

Even as the last mouthful of bitter coffee slid down his throat, the answer remained sunk at the bottom of the cup, refusing to surface.

At that moment, Ophelia reached for her second cup of coffee, her gaze drifting over the now-empty plates. She traced circles on the rim with a slender finger, then suddenly spoke.

“You know, despite how I look, I’m actually Elven Royalty.”

“Seriously…”

It was true. There was always a certain elegance in Ophelia’s gestures and movements—being royalty didn’t seem unlikely at all.

But Merlin had never met any Elves other than Ophelia, so to him, Ophelia = Elf was a long-standing impression.

“But I…”

Ophelia let out a soft sigh, her long breath sending tiny ripples across her coffee.

“My life’s always been the butt of fate’s jokes… Though to call it bad luck wouldn’t be quite right.”

“……”

“I once found another child, much like when I found you—but she was an Elf. Yes… Even though Elves rarely appear outside the Elven Forest, I somehow picked up an Elf.”

“That’s not a bad thing… Being found by a clansman means she could learn the customs and all that.”

“Right… But it ended up like with you. I got too attached to the kid, and in the end, well… As I said, our situations are similar. Still, by the time she left me, I was already an adult with my own career, so it wasn’t too hard on me.”

Ophelia’s lashes drooped, casting faint shadows over her cheeks. She sighed once again.

“I see…”

“I told you, didn’t I? I’m Elven Royalty.”

“Mm…”

She sighed once more.

“Who would have thought the child I picked up would not only be an Elf, but also royalty—my own little sister, no less. What are the odds of something that ridiculous happening?”

“Was that why you separated?”

“Yes… and no. But in the end, we parted ways.”

“Maybe that’s just the pull of blood.”

Ophelia gave a sheepish smile into the air.

“Luckily, the kid I picked up this time is human. If it had been another Elf, I’d have to wonder if we were related. If it was an Elf, I’d probably just send them straight back to the Elven Forest and never raise them again.”

“Haha, thank you for picking me up.”