[V11C31] Touching the Scars, Learning About You

“…I-Ike!”

Monica shouted Isaac’s name, causing his sharp eyes of black and azure to focus on her.

She stared right back into those eyes.

“Ike, um, I’m sorry for getting scared. I know you’re the one in the most shock here.”

Isaac quickly opened his mouth to reply. Surely, he intended to reassure her with a phrase like, “Don’t worry about it,” or something similar.

But Monica continued rapidly, giving him no time to interrupt.

“The corner of your mouth, and the angle of your eyebrows when you smile!”

“…Huh?”

“That too! The angle you tilted your head just now, it’s just like the Ike I know! Even if your face is different, I can still tell that you’re Ike. So… um…”

Monica trailed off, gradually losing track of what she wanted to say.

This caused Isaac to let out a chuckle. The corners of his sharp eyes shifted slightly into a softer position.

“I’m glad you were the first person to see me with this face… I can remain myself because you called my name.”

Though Isaac’s face still looked intimidating, his smile was genuine.

“You’d probably be able to find me no matter what I look like,” Isaac continued.

“Yes, I would! I remember everything about you, even the shape of your ears!”

“…That’s news to me.”

Isaac let out another chuckle. It was still the ‘usual Ike’ laugh that Monica had heard many times.

“Oh right,” Monica said. “We’ve finished the spell for stripping the shadows from the victims! The documentation just got sent to the capital for final verification. Please wait a little bit longer, and we’ll get the shadows off your right eye and neck.”

During the incident on the snowy mountain, Monica had immediately invoked the spell she created to raise Cyril out of his coma, but that was due to the urgency of the situation. In general, spells intended for use on humans require verification from multiple mages before they can be allowed for practical use.

This was why Monica intended to wait for Rutherford’s confirmation before using the spell on Isaac.

Upon hearing Monica’s explanation, Isaac widened his eyes slightly, saying, “I should have expected as much from my amazing master.”

“So, um, you should get some rest. That’s the best way to recover mana,” Monica continued.

The symptoms of mana deficiency were generally similar to anemia, but in severe cases, there could be lingering after-effects. For example, the time when Cyril contracted mana hyperabsorption.

It was crucial to rest and recover mana when suffering from depletion. Only someone as tough as Louis could get away with running around in this state.

“Got it, I’ll take a rest…” Isaac said. “But before I forget, take this.”

Isaac took out a key from his pocket and handed it to Monica. The key had a metal tag engraved with numbers.

“Ike, what’s this?”

“The key to a safety deposit box at the Armitage Bank in the commercial district. It contains a copy of Silas Page’s dragon detector blueprints.”

Monica immediately understood Isaac’s intent, and widened her eyes in amazement.

Meanwhile, Nero folded his arms in and tilted his neck in confusion, muttering, “What’s that for?”

Isaac turned to Nero and began explaining.

“The new sage, the Dragon Slayer Mage, has developed a magical device for pinpointing the location of dragons. The effective range is still narrow, but it is relatively accurate. Unless we do something about it, there’s a chance that he might find you or Cyril’s white dragon.”

In the current operation against Gluttonous Zoe, Silas was assigned to communication between capital and Sazandol, due to his skill at flight magic. And once Silas visits Sazandol, he may use the dragon detector.

Monica had been concerned about this possibility as well.

“And that’s why,” Isaac continued. “I got my hands on the dragon detector blueprints and analyzed them to the best of my abilities. It works by emitting mana that reacts to the specific mana arrangement of a dragon. That means it can be deceived if we overlay the mana arrangement of another creature on top of the dragon’s. If we can make a magical tool for…”

“Oi, explain it in a way I can understand.”

“…In other words, we need to make a magical tool to ensure no one will find you. The rough draft for that is in the safety deposit box. Monica, I want you to review it.”

Isaac hesitantly turned toward Monica. He wore an awkward smile, as if trying to figure out what kind of expression wouldn’t scare her.

In contrast to his worries, however, Monica seemed incredibly proud.

“Ike, that’s wonderful. You’re amazing.”

“…Are you praising me?”

Isaac leaned forward in his chair, as Monica stood up and stroked his bangs.

Looking right into Isaac’s slightly awkward smile, Monica expressed her gratitude the best way she could think of.

“Ike, thank you for always thinking about Nero and me. I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”

“Oh, so you were working hard for my sake? Alright, I’ll praise you too,” Nero followed.

The gentle head pat from Monica and the crude praise from Nero caused Isaac to lift the corners of his mouth slightly. With that, his intimidating aura loosened a bit.

But then, Isaac had to quickly catch himself as he almost tipped over. His body was practically screaming at him to stop ignoring the mana deficiency and lie down.

“You should really go to sleep for today…” Monica suggested. “But first, I should examine the shadows on your right eye and neck. Oh, and I need to treat your wounds too.”

Upon closer inspection, Isaac had several small abrasions on both hands. They looked fresh, so it was probably from the battle with Samuel Throth.

It would be best to lay Isaac on a bed before examining his wounds.

Monica took out a box containing ointments and bandages from the cupboard.

“Ike, let’s do the treatment in your room. Nero, call me if someone from the Mage Association comes.”

“Sure thing,” Nero replied, sitting again on the cushion connected to the trumpet. Apparently, he had quickly gotten over his failed prank and started playing with it on his own.

The cheerful sounds eased the tension in the room ever so slightly.

＊　＊　＊

Monica’s house had three guest rooms on the second floor, one of which belonged to Isaac.

Unlike the other guest rooms, Isaac’s room had two neatly arranged bookshelves, one for his research, and one for his hobbies.

For reference, the latter bookshelf was almost completely filled with the works of the Silent Witch, Monica Everett.

Monica gently averted her eyes from the rows of her own name, then gestured for Isaac to take a seat.

After patching up the abrasions on both of his hands, she used a candlestick to illuminate Isaac’s right eye.

(…Iris is still fixed in the center. No signs of bleeding.)

The iris of his eye had been stained black, but there was no other discoloration.

Apparently, the shadows of Gluttonous Zoe inflicted minimal physical damage.

“Next, I’ll check the back of your neck… Could you take off your shirt and sit sideways on the chair?”

“Sure.”

Isaac removed his shirt, placing it on the bed, then reseated himself on the chair.

He possessed a lean and well-toned body, which was proof of his regular workout routine.

…However, that was not what caught Monica’s eye.

Monica let out a small gasp once she saw Isaac’s back.

“…Monica?”

Isaac turned around, before finally realizing it. He lowered his eyes into a slight frown.

Her reaction was due to seeing his back covered in old scars.

The scar on his face was inflicted by the claws of a creature, but the ones on his back were different. They were the marks of someone hit forcefully with a whip.

Monica had seen Isaac shirtless when the two headed into town for a night. Back then, his smooth white skin was only blemished by one scar on the side of his stomach.

The implication was obvious. It wouldn’t make sense for the Second Prince’s back to be covered in whip marks, so they had been erased using the same body manipulation magic that changed his face.

“I…”

Monica choked out a sob, unable to continue. Her eyes felt unbearably hot. The inside of her nose stung.

“Back then, you were concerned about the scars on my back…” Monica continued. “I think… I understand your feelings now.”

It was painful. It was depressing.

The fact that her friend had been treated so poorly was frustrating beyond measure.

“…It’s all in the past,” Isaac said, slightly furrowing his brows.

His current face made him look exasperated, but Monica knew the truth. Isaac angled his eyebrows that way when he was sad and troubled.

Wiping away the tears in her eyes with the back of her hand, Monica sniffled and continued.

“Even so, I… I don’t like it that you had to go through such pain.”

“…Right.”

“It’s frustrating.”

Monica bit her lips as Isaac put on a troubled smile.

Despite his intimidating face, the lonely smile suited him somehow.

“Don’t worry, Master. Your words have brought salvation to Isaac Walker.”

Isaac attempted to reach out to Monica, before hesitating and withdrawing his hand. He shook his head slightly and closed his eyes, as if implying he had nothing left to say.

Monica wiped away her tears with her sleeve, then examined the mark on the back of Isaac’s neck.

Sure enough, it was the same as Louis and Rutherford’s. The shadow extended down the length of his neck, until around the height of his shoulder blades. It looked like a tattoo imprinted on his skin.

This mark was responsible for absorbing Isaac’s mana.

(I have to do something about this.)

Isaac had already lost enough, so Monica made a silent promise to herself. She would not let anything else be stolen from him.

She did not know whether or not helping Isaac reclaim Felix’s face was the right thing to do. But she understood that it was undeniably precious to him.

If Isaac wanted to reclaim it, then Monica intended to support him as his master.

“You can put your shirt back on. Just rest for now.”

“…Got it.”

Isaac put on his shirt, but for some reason, he remained seated in the chair instead of going to bed, staring blankly at Monica.

“Ike? You really need to lie down…”

“We haven’t had much chance to talk recently, so I don’t want to go to sleep yet.”

Though his current face looked more mature, he was making a rather childish excuse.

Monica put on her ‘cool master’ face and continued, “Okay, then let’s talk until you fall asleep… I want to know more about you.”

Isaac stared at Monica with his differently colored eyes. Rather than intimidating, he seemed taken aback.

Though feeling a bit awkward, Monica maintained her ‘cool master’ face while fiddling with her fingers.

“I want to know what kind of life you’ve led until now. Because…”

Monica clenched her fists and put on a weak smile.

“You are my disciple, after all.”

With a slightly troubled smile, Isaac murmured, “Thank you, Master.”

＊　＊　＊

The rain was still falling outside the window.

Amidst the clattering of large raindrops hitting the roof and windows, Monica pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down.

Isaac remained motionless on the bed with a pale face.

Perhaps he was suffering from fatigue as well as mana depletion. He had always been a busy man, juggling between being Duke Erin and Monica’s disciple.

With his eyes closed, Isaac began speaking in fragments.

“I was born in eastern Ridill. My family was just my parents and a younger brother. My dad was a doctor, and an admirable man… I respected him a lot.”

Isaac slowly raised his right hand, placing the back of his hand on top of his closed eyes.

“When I was six, our hometown was attacked by earth dragons.”

“Is that when you got the scar on your face?”

“Yeah. My dad went back to help the injured and died to falling rubble. My mom got killed by an earth dragon… right in front me. My brother kept weakening, and… I, I didn’t realize it all…”

Isaac’s voice faltered, then trailed off.

Good thing that it was raining. The sound of rain filled the silence between them.

The dripping of water could be heard intermittently against the backdrop of pattering rain.

Monica waited for Isaac to continue while listening to these sounds.

“After that, I lived in an orphanage… until I got taken in by Duke Crockford… It was there that I met Arc… the real Prince Felix.”

Isaac often referred to Prince Felix with the nickname of “Arc”, an obvious sign of how close they had been.

In addition, his tone of voice turned incredibly gentle whenever he mentioned Arc.

“Howard-sama and Bridget-sama also admired Prince Felix, right?” Monica asked.

“Yeah. He was a crybaby, a weakling, bad at both sports and studies, shy… but also, a master and friend to be proud of.”

Monica had heard a little about the real Prince Felix from Elliott and Bridget.

Their descriptions had been similar. Despite giving Prince Felix a harsh evaluation, they truly admired him from the bottom of their hearts.

The young prince may have been weak, but he was kinder than anyone else.

“Arc was frail, and every time he fell ill, he was afraid that he might die. He often cried, saying that once he was dead, everyone would forget about him…”

Isaac’s voice grew weaker and weaker.

Eventually, the hand that had been covering his eyes slumped onto the bed.

“And that’s why… I… I…”

By the time Monica counted a dozen instances of the rhythmical dripping, Isaac was breathing quietly, fast asleep.

Monica stood up and covered him with a blanket.

“…Good night, Ike.”

Monica whispered softly as she left the room.

But instead of descending the stairs, Monica opened the door to the storage room.

The long staff granted only to the Seven Sages was wrapped in cloth and propped up in the corner of this room.

Monica unwrapped the cloth, placing her fingers on the gem-adorned tip of the staff.

(This is something I have to do.)

Her childish round eyes narrowed in the darkness of the storage room.

Monica invoked her chantless magic to imbue the gem with mana.

Her Sage’s staff was also a magical tool of the highest order. It possessed effects for amplifying and stabilizing mana, and the gem adorning it was designed to easily accept enchantments.

Monica enchanted that gem with the spell she had been researching. This would be a powerful weapon for when the need arose.

(Because I am the Silent Witch and Ike’s master.)

Once she finished enchanting the gem, she heard the footsteps of Nero ascending the staircase.

“Hey, Monica! There’s a human coming. From that Mage Association or whatever.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

Monica rewrapped the staff she had finished enchanting, cradling it against her chest as she left the room.

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