[V8C20] Profound Words From A Great Scholar

Sophocles looked up at Cyril Ashley, the man surrounded by a greater ice spirit, the legendary white dragon, the descendant of the Thorn Witch, and the little girl capable of summoning the Spirit King without an incantation. What were they if not a group of inhuman monsters?

The ring cleared his non-existent throat with a light, “Ahem!”, which was meant to draw their attention, but no one paid him any heed.

“I really worked up an appetite after all that exercise!” Raul shouted. “It’s about time for lunch, I’ve got plenty of turnips! And carrots too! Oh, by the way, did you finish the carrots I sent the other day?”

“Yes, I distributed them to all the servants, and they seemed very pleased,” Cyril replied.

“Um, yes. Ike made various carrot dishes, which were delicious,” Monica added.

“Cool. I’ll send more next year, so look forward to it! Oh, but it’ll be from my study abroad destination!”

“You had better focus on your studies! Otherwise, what’s the purpose of studying abroad!?”

“…AHEEEEEM!!”

Upon hearing the overly loud throat-clearing from Sophocles, Cyril gave the ring a suspicious glance.

“What was that strange noise just now? Could it be that your functions were impaired during the battle…?”

Although his throat-clearing was treated as a strange noise, Sophocles had succeeded in garnering their attention.

“Now then, Cyril Ashley. Well done in overcoming my trial. I hereby acknowledge you as my contrac…”

Before Sophocles could finish his statement, Cyril slipped the ring off. The contract mark displayed on his middle finger disappeared, as if melting into the air.

Why would he remove the ring now, just as Sophocles was about to acknowledge him? As Sophocles grew perplexed, Cyril placed the ring on the palm of his hand and explained.

“Key of Knowledge Sophocles. Through this incident, I have come to realize my many failures. I am still much too immature to inherit you.”

“…Huh?”

“It’s only natural that you cannot acknowledge me. I plan to devote myself to further studies, and when the time comes, I will face your trial once again…”

“No, um… H-Have you been listening to me?”

In response to the confused question from Sophocles, Cyril answered with complete seriousness.

“I currently lack the qualifications to inherit you. After all, I failed to overcome your trial on my own…”

“Who cares?! I just said I acknowledged you!”

“But I am not satisfied with that!”

“Y-You stubborn little…! I said I acknowledged you, so the matter is settled!”

“I refuse your acknowledgment!”

“Don’t refuse!”

＊　＊　＊

(W-What now… That’s very much like Cyril-sama, but…)

As Monica anxiously watched the endless argument, Isaac offered a comment with a refreshing smile.

“Perhaps it’s about time we throw in the towel?”

“…I gave up a long time ago,” Claudia muttered in response.

The scene unfolding before them seemed like the textbook example of how pointless an argument between two stubborn fellows could be.

Meanwhile, a golden weasel leapt onto Cyril’s right shoulder. It was the ice spirit Ashelpikeh, who had transformed back without anyone noticing.

Pikeh glared at Sophocles from Cyril’s shoulder, and a wave of frost began to spread across the black ring.

“Like I thought, this is the root of all evil. I’ll freeze you.”

“As if, Ice Spirit! The real evil here is you!”

“…Me?”

Pikeh tilted her neck to the side as Thule, who had climbed onto Cyril’s opposite shoulder, asked, “Why is that?”

In response, Sophocles began shouting in fury.

“I’ve had my eye on him since he was a child, so I was supposed to be the first one to contract him! And yet… and yet… he contracted with someone else first! You… you adulterer!”

This ‘adulterer’ insult was apparently meant for Cyril.

“Adulterer…”

“Adulterer?”

The weasels repeated the unfamiliar word, not quite understanding the meaning.

The chorus of “adulterer” echoing from his hands and shoulders caused Cyril to widen his eyes.

“Adulterer…!? How dare you! When did I ever do something so unfaithful!”

“Don’t you dare play dumb! Young people nowadays are just too casual about contracts, making them left and right… You’re treating me as if I’m some third wife!”

Cyril froze, unable to make any rebuttal. Apparently, the dishonorable accusation had rendered him speechless.

Meanwhile, on his stiff shoulders, the weasels continued chatting in their usual tone.

“Am I the first wife?” Pikeh asked.

“Then I must be the second wife,” Thule responded.

They didn’t seem to have a complete understanding of the word’s significance. Following them, Raul and Isaac joined in on the joke.

“A spirit as the first wife… If you said that to Louis-san, he’d probably get super pissed.”

“I might be in trouble then; my first wife is Wildianu.”

At this point, no one was taking the situation seriously anymore… aside from the naturally serious Cyril and Monica.

“C-Cyril-sama hasn’t done anything u-unfaithful… because, um, c-contracts are completely different from m-marriage…”

Unfortunately, Monica’s earnest defense fell on deaf ears, as Sophocles was still engrossed in his argument with Cyril.

As the ignored Monica began tearing up, Isaac broke in with a wry smile.

“Sophocles had acknowledged Cyril from the very beginning. He’s just sulking because he got jealous of the two weasels. What a troublesome old man, right?”

“…J-Jealous?”

This was a word rarely used by Monica, so she had to ponder its definition for a moment. Jealousy. Sophocles felt envy for Pikeh and Thule.

“Um, so you say Sophocles has already acknowledged Cyril, right?”

“Yeah, but it ended up like this because both of them are so stubborn.”

Isaac glanced over at Cyril, who was still arguing with the ring resting on the palm of his hand.

“Key of Knowledge Sophocles. I will never rank my contracting partners, or treat them any differently. Everyone is equal,” Cyril declared.

“Hmph! All the men say that! You just want a harem!”

These were the profound words of an artifact who had witnessed several generations worth of history. Upon hearing this, Cyril gave the order with a glint in his blue eyes.

“Pikeh, go ahead and freeze him.”

“Got it.”

“You said you wouldn’t treat me differently!! Weren’t we supposed to be equal!?”

The argument was only growing more and more chaotic.

Raul pulled a turnip out of his pocket and started munching on it as he pondered a possible solution.

“Hmm… they could probably resolve their differences if they eat vegetables at the same table, but I guess Sophocles doesn’t have a mouth…”

Of course, Raul was the only one who thought this way, but no one bothered to correct him. After all, the usual straight man Cyril was preoccupied at the moment.

Meanwhile, Isaac voiced a quiet question to Claudia.

“As the wife of a mediator, do you have any advice on mediating this situation?”

“…How about we send in the fourth wife?”

As she said this, Claudia glanced at Monica.

Isaac narrowed his eyes slightly, ignoring Claudia’s suggestion, then turned to Monica.

“Monica, I’ll do my best to take care of this, so will you cheer me on?”

“O-Of course, Ike! Y-You can do it!”

“Thanks. I promise to live up to your expectations, Master.”

With a gentle smile, Isaac stepped onto the battlefield. The first order of business was dealing with the frost-covered Sophocles on Cyril’s palm.

“Key of Knowledge Sophocles, you spoke the truth when you said you acknowledged Cyril, right?”

“The pie baker…! Have you come to my rescue…!?”

“It was the truth, right?”

Isaac put a bit of additional pressure into his smile, pushing Sophocles to let out a hesitant, “Y-Yes.”

After confirming this, Isaac turned to Cyril next.

“Cyril, you said that you refuse the contract with Sophocles, right?”

“Yes. In my current state, I lack the skills and experience to serve as contractor.”

“You always lose track of your surroundings when your head is hot. Lift your face and take a look around you, Cyril Ashley.”

Isaac swept his gaze across Monica, Raul, Claudia, and even the weasels on Cyril’s shoulders. After waiting for Cyril to follow his gaze, Isaac continued in a gentle tone.

“Your sister, two of the Seven Sages, an ice spirit, and a white dragon… Think about how hard they have worked for your sake, Cyril. If you say this incident helped you realize your shortcomings, then it’s only a matter of improvement. And that’s something you know how to do, right?”

Cyril gasped in response, seemingly at a loss for words.

Meanwhile, Isaac picked the frost-covered ring from Cyril’s hand and wiped it off with a handkerchief.

“Everyone here is cheering for you. They want to see you make the contract with Sophocles.”

In response to Isaac’s words, Monica and Raul nodded silently. Claudia still seemed pretty indifferent, but Isaac pretended not to notice as he continued speaking.

“Will you live up to our expectations?”

Cyril opened his mouth slightly before closing it tight. This was the face he made when swallowing his anxiety, shame, and embarrassment, in order to resolve himself.

“…I humbly accept.”

Isaac smiled and returned the Key of Knowledge to Cyril’s right middle finger.

Cyril looked down at the jet-black ring and muttered softly.

“I look forward to working with you, Sophocles.”

“…Good!”

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