[V16C1] My Rival Is Always Surrounded By Big Guys

One day, the young Count of Ambard, Bernie Jones, attended a conference at the Mage Association. He came dressed in an elegant black robe and brought the staff proving his status as an advanced mage.

Many nobles dabbled in magic, but only a few managed to reach the advanced level.

Bernie was young and relatively inexperienced for a lord, so he preferred to dress like a mage instead. There would always be fewer people willing to look down on an advanced mage.

This was especially true for today’s conference, which was held at the headquarters of the Mage Association and attended by several of the Seven Sages.

(According to rumors, the Silent Witch’s disciple will be here today…)

Bernie entered a small lecture hall within the Association, taking a seat in the back center and fixing his eyes on the podium. In a few moments, Monica Everett, the Silent Witch, would be starting a lecture there.

The subject of this lecture was the magical formula of the spell used to remove the shadows of Gluttonous Zoe, an ancient artifact.

Most of the people left comatose by Gluttonous Zoe had already made a full recovery, but there was always the chance of something similar happening in the future. Her spell still needed to be shared and researched.

Since Bernie’s domain of Ambard used large magical tools in the field of medicine, he wanted to understand this spell… though he had just as much interest in the identity of Monica’s disciple.

In the world of magic, disciples were often viewed poorly. No matter how talented their master might be, a disciple amounted to nothing unless they had achievements to call their own. Until then, they were little more than glorified servants.

That said, Bernie was very surprised to hear that Monica of all people had taken a disciple.

(If her disciple is too pathetic, then it would make me look bad as her rival!)

There were a lot of complicated manners and etiquette when acting formally as a mage. This included how to choose your robe, how to walk in a robe, where to stand, how to bow, how to hold a staff, how to greet people, and so on.

Surely, Monica was the type to be overly soft on her disciple. It fell to Bernie to point out all of these issues and give them a stern scolding.

Because he alone was the eternal rival of the Silent Witch, Monica Everett!

As Bernie kept telling himself this, the door at the front of the hall opened. The murmurs of the audience ceased in an instant.

The first to enter the room was a petite woman with neatly tied light brown hair and tasteful makeup. Her robe was embroidered with luxurious patterns and she carried a staff as tall as she was. It was Monica Everett the Silent Witch, one of the Seven Sages.

Monica had constantly averted her eyes and fiddled with her fingers when in front of crowds, but now, she stared straight ahead with a solemn expression, not even wearing her hood.

She did appear a bit tense, with some stiffness in her shoulders, but she remained composed. Her arms and legs were not trembling in the slightest.

Following behind her was a young man carrying a few rolled-up documents. He was tall, blond, and wore a coat-like robe with an attached cape. The robe was a subdued black, matching the color of his boots. He did not have any flashy accessories.

It was normally proper for mages to keep their hoods up, but he left his down in accordance with his master.

Bernie could find no faults with his outfit. He looked exactly how a disciple accompanying his master should.

(Well, a proper outfit is only natural. What really matters is his behavior and etiquette.)

The disciple promptly distributed the documents and pinned a large sheet to the board at the front. Monica might have had trouble doing that, but her disciple was tall enough to handle the task with ease.

Once these preparations were finished, Monica handed her staff to him.

Most likely, Monica had not thought much about the treatment of her staff. This was just a casual request for her disciple to put it down somewhere.

But a few people in the room noticed.

Her disciple performed a respectful bow before turning the staff sideways and receiving it with both hands. Then, he held the staff upright with his right hand, using his left hand to support it.

You must never let the handle of a staff touch the ground… he followed this etiquette flawlessly.

A few moments later, Monica approached her disciple and spoke to him in a hushed whisper. However, the lecture hall was deathly silent, so everyone could hear her words.

“Ike, Ike, you can just lean my staff against the wall.”

“Please let me hold it like this, Master.”

The disciple understood.

Being entrusted with your master’s staff was a sign of trust, an incredible honor for any disciple.

And yet, Monica didn’t get it at all. She still had the look of, “Why don’t you just put it down somewhere?” Bernie felt like facepalming.

(The staff of a Sage is the highest honor for any mage! No one in their right mind can just prop it up against a wall…!)

Monica went on to begin her lecture on the shadow-removal spell, which lasted over an hour. For the entire duration, her disciple remained silently by the wall without ever letting her staff touch the ground or breaking his posture.

His turquoise eyes remained fixed on his master standing at the podium.

＊　＊　＊

“I had heard that Silent Witch-sama almost never showed herself in public before.”

“What an excellent lecture. To think she could invent such a complex spell all on her own. Simply remarkable for someone so young.”

“Actually, I have a son about her age…”

Following the lecture, the attendees moved to another room for a standing reception.

There, praises for the Silent Witch could be heard from all directions.

And just as often, there came the voices of those plotting to draw her into their families.

Even if Monica was originally a commoner, she was now one of the most celebrated heroes in the nation.

What’s more, this was a gathering of people with knowledge of magic. Many sought a marriage partner with magical talent for their sons.

(Knowing Monica, she probably hasn’t taken any precautions against that kind of thing.)

Bernie glanced toward the entrance of the reception hall.

Monica had yet to arrive, likely because she needed to clean up the materials from her lecture. In which case, once she entered, Bernie had to quickly engage her in conversation to shield her from the rain of marriage proposals.

There were undoubtedly many people looking forward to speaking with her, but if the one and only Bernie Jones was talking to the Silent Witch about work, then no one could dare interrupt them with trivial engagement talk.

As usual, Bernie was forced to do everything for his rival.

(Well, I can admit she’s gotten better at speaking in public. But she still leaves herself wide open, and can barely handle a real conversation, and…)

As Bernie crossed his arms and started mentally criticizing his rival, a stir spread through the room.

He looked up to see Monica entering the reception hall in her Sage robes… with two men following behind her.

＊　＊　＊

Nero tagged along for the food at the reception party, so he scanned the room the moment he entered. His eyes locked onto the buffet tables lined up along the right-hand wall.

“Hey, hey, I can eat all of those, yeah?”

Monica sighed. It seemed Nero could see nothing but the food. He had already forgotten that he was here as the Silent Witch’s attendant.

“I hope you can keep it within moderation,” Isaac said. “Otherwise, it will affect the Silent Witch’s reputation.”

“It’s not overeating as long as it fits on my plate, right? Don’t worry. I’ll show you the stacking skills I perfected through chess.”

As a reminder, Nero’s version of chess was a game of stacking chess pieces on top of each other. Just how much food did he plan to stuff on his plate?

Before anyone could stop him, he was already speed-walking over to the buffet.

“Ah… Nero, honestly…”

Monica let out another sigh of exasperation and looked up at Isaac. Noticing her gaze, Isaac turned to her. The sharpness of his eyes made him look like he was glaring, but it was really a look of concern, as if to say, “What is it?”

“Ike, are you okay not eating anything?”

“As your disciple, I couldn’t possibly eat before you.”

That might be problematic. At social gatherings, Monica got so nervous that she could barely chew her food.

On the other hand, Isaac was someone who always ate heartily. He might go hungry at this rate.

“Ike, Ike.”

“Yes?”

Monica stood on her tiptoes and whispered into his ear.

“Don’t worry about me. You can eat as much as you want. Or maybe we can have them wrap something up for you? Then you can go to the waiting room and eat it there.

“Do you happen to think of me as someone who is always hungry?”

“But you do eat a lot, Ike.”

Isaac covered his mouth with his hand and let out a soft laugh, almost like a sigh. He put on a wry smile.

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine. What about you? Even if you’re not hungry, your throat must be dry, right? Shall I get you something to drink?”

Monica was about to reply, “I’m fine,” when she spotted a familiar figure diagonally ahead.

A tall man wearing Sage robes with slicked-back, golden blond hair. He was the Dragon Slayer Mage, Silas Page.

Silas approached quickly, came to a stop in front of Monica, and bowed at a perfect right angle.

“Sup, Silent-neesan!”

“Um… s-sup, Silas-san!”

At once, Isaac stepped up to Silas with a dead-serious face.

“…Silas-niisan, can you please stop being a bad influence on my esteemed master?”

“Bad influence? Come on, it’s a greeting full of spirit!”

Monica nodded along with Silas in agreement, bobbing her head emphatically.

Though Silas was her junior in the Seven Sages, Monica believed in learning anything she could, even from her juniors. The ‘spirit’ mentioned by Silas was one such thing.

A little while back, Silas visited Sazandol with some documents for his research project with Isaac. There, Isaac had told him, “I’d like you to verify the mana leakage during spell connection. I’ve already finished the calculations on my side.”

This wasn’t an impossible task, but it was a fairly heavy one.

Silas had flinched at the thickness of the documents, but when Isaac added, “I’m counting on you, Leader,” Silas promptly thumped his chest and responded, “Alright, bring it on!”

Bring it on. To Monica, this phrase sounded so reliable and wonderful to hear. She wanted to be able to say it herself the next time someone relied on her.

Thus, she was very happy when she managed to say it to Raul.

After a brief pause to savor that moment, Monica stepped in to rescue Silas from Isaac’s chiding.

“Um, Silas-san’s way of speaking is very… dependable.”

This rendered Isaac silent with a strangely conflicted expression, while Silas lifted his chin in triumph and huffed with satisfaction.

“You hear that, Ike? She said I’m dependable! As usual, Silent-neesan has an eye for good men!”

“Master, there is no need for you to copy Silas-niisan. You are dependable enough already.”

“Come on, dude. You do nothing but complain. Can’t you say something good about me for once?”

＊　＊　＊

Bernie Jones watched this from a distance, completely speechless.

(They’re so… big…)

Monica was followed by her attendant, a black-haired man with an old-fashioned black robe, as well as her blonde disciple. Both of them were quite tall.

The black-haired man stepped away soon after, but then the Dragon Slayer Mage arrived in his place. He was tall too.

(I mean, it’s not like being tall matters much. Height has no correlation with talent in magecraft.)

Meanwhile, the black-haired man who had gone to get food returned to Monica.

“Oi, Monica! This stuff is great! Junior, make this for next time, but twice as big!”

Now she was surrounded by three giants. It was practically a wall hiding the petite Monica from view. She was barely visible.

As Bernie bit his lip in frustration, yet another giant approached them. A towering man with a black hair and beard—the Artillery Mage, Bradford Firestone.

“Yo, Silent Witch! Dragon Slayer! You youngsters seem to be having a good time.”

“Ah, Artillery Mage-sama! About yesterday, I… Ahh…! Never mind!”

“Hmm? I don’t remember seeing you yesterday.”

“It’s nothing! Nothing at all! I was just contemplating the durability a defensive barrier would need to block a sixfold reinforced spell, that’s all…!”

The Silent Witch was having a conversation with the four giants.

Her blond disciple, her black-haired attendant, the Dragon Slayer Mage, the Artillery Mage… The four were not doing anything in particular, yet their presence somehow made Bernie feel as though he could hear a ‘Bang!’ sound effect each time one of them showed up. Of course, this was just Bernie’s hallucination.

“Hmm-mmm-mmm~…”

And now he was even hallucinating about that dreaded man… but right as the thought entered Bernie’s head, he felt a hand on his shoulder. All the blood drained from his body, and he let out a trembling gasp.

Moving only his eyes, Bernie glanced behind him to see the source of the humming.

There, he saw yet another tall man with red hair and a broad grin. He was Hubert Dee, Bernie’s senior from the Minerva days.

“Hey, long time no see. Right, Count Ambard~?”

“Gyah…!?”

Throwing away all of his pride, Bernie tried to scream. However, Hubert quickly clamped a hand down on his mouth.

“You’re wondering why I’m here, yeah? Well, I learned the shadow-removal spell and saved some lives at Minerva. That got my ban lifted. The Mage Association was so grateful that they sent me an invitation to this party.”

That made sense. As much of a nightmare as this man was personality-wise, he was undeniably a mage with exceptional talent.

On top of that, Hubert was also the nephew of the Artillery Mage. There were surely a decent amount of people in the Mage Association trying to earn his favor.

“You know the large Ambard-brand medical device you delivered to the Royal Institute? That was a pretty cool magical tool. I got to be there when it was activated. Hey, you can show me more of those, right? Count Ambard.”

Since Monica was still surrounded by the wall of giants, she couldn’t even see poor Bernie being dragged away.

Now, Bernie wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in bed.

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