Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired

8 – Stepped Over the Line *Revised*

Mage.

One who twists the truths

of all things using mana, bringing about miracles.

One who makes the struggling commoner yearn

for the existence of talent.

An academy where only students with that talent could gather,

and even among them, a girl considered the most outstanding

when it came to elemental magic.

Disciple of the Magic Tower Lord and daughter

of the Luenhiel Duchy, a family of mages.

Her hair, turned blue due to

a body altered to better accept mana.

A white robe that covered her shoulders and barely

avoided dragging along the floor.

A girl of average height at 167cm, and

a physique that matched her growth.

Isabella von Luenhiel was

currently in a very foul mood.

It was none other than her ex-fiancé,

the academy’s greatest delinquent, and a stain on the Reinhardt family.

No, he had left the family now, so

he wouldn’t be called a stain on the Reinhardt family anymore.

It was because of Jennison.

She, Jennison, Aria, and Allen were

all childhood friends, you could say,

For the sake of the Duke’s lineage and their future alliances,

she knew of the engagement arranged.

Consent between the parties involved,

it was a match entirely without it,

yet Isabella found herself pleased with the arrangement.

She held affections for Allen, after all.

If the four great houses intertwined

through betrothals, the family’s influence would only grow,

and she believed it a chance to continue on, no

need for something embarrassing as a confession.

Yes, if only her betrothed was Allen,

and not his younger brother, Jennison.

‘…A sigh.’

Jennison had displeased her from the very first glance.

Unlike his brother Allen, he was of frail build,

and unlike his sister Aria, he didn’t appear particularly astute.

It was as though they tried to combine the two, but only half,

resulting in naught but a flawed creation.

And wouldn’t you know it, she was betrothed to just such a man.

She was the eldest daughter, burdened

with supporting the four great houses,

a pillar who had to bear the family’s weight.

Therefore, she believed that her husband, of course,

had to possess commensurate strength and gravitas.

But why was it Jennison who was chosen,

and not Allen, the eldest son of the house?

‘…I can’t stand the sight of him, really.’

No matter how much trouble he caused

at the Academy, it always amounted to nothing,

perhaps because he was, after all,

a scion of the Duke’s house.

He managed to evade

punishment time and again,

and she despised his actions so intensely that she continually ignored him.

One who wielded power arbitrarily,

evading all accountability for it,

was, in her estimation, the worst kind of person.

Even if her actions brought

complaints down upon her, it mattered little.

In the end, she was stronger than him.

Using the excuse that she ignored him,

Taking threatening action would have

been easily crushed, just like that.

And so, I continued

to ignore him,

believing our relationship

would change no further from here.

That is, until he stopped

appearing at the Academy altogether.

“Haven’t seen that fellow lately, have we?”

Until now, even if I wished to avoid him,

we were bound to cross paths in class.

Never before had we gone this long

without so much as a glance.

I thought he’d finally left the Academy for good.

Otherwise, surely someone would have

seen him after all this time.

“He finally left, really…!!”

Then, one day, a letter arrived for me.

The contents read as such:

that, because their son, Jenison, had departed from the family,

the engagement with the de Rnuiel ducal house was regrettably terminated.

They asked for understanding in this matter,

and offered to provide a small compensation.

“…Left the family, you say?”

It was something I knew he

would never have done,

and a flicker of curiosity ignited,

leading me to trace his steps as they were.

Soon, I discovered he was still at the Academy,

and asking a professor, I learned he had moved to a regular

dormitory and was, for some reason, refusing to attend classes.

The added information was that continued truancy

could lead to him failing a year.

The fact that I might never see his

face again was welcome news,

yet on the other hand, I wondered

what he was scheming to warrant such refusal.

For aren’t mages, by nature, those who explore the unknown?

“No need to seek him out, not exactly… but if we meet, perhaps I should inquire?”

Thinking thus, I entered the training grounds

to practice my magic once more.

*

Bright and dazzling.

Emotions felt only after the longest time.

The feelings I had the moment I flung open

my dormitory door, and

as I turned back, my room was

filled with traces of what I had left behind.

Traces of utilizing numerous magics,

like everyday spells and fundamental enchantments,

circuits of various shapes,

small explosions from failed experiments,

and a multitude of cracked markings.

And the countless beads of sweat shed

while tempering my body had gathered

to create stains that filled the room,

as various scars etched themselves onto me.

Torn and gouged, calluses

covered my entire body,

and hands once so fair

had become riddled with wounds.

‘Well, I *was* rather lax with my training, wasn’t I?’

Blaming my past self who had planned

a life of indolence solely because I was born into a noble house,

I promptly began repacking my belongings,

recalling what I needed to do first

upon venturing outside.

‘Attendance… I need to mark attendance first…

And as for clothes, well, no need to change, really.’

The academy recommends uniforms,

but does not strictly enforce them.

As long as my attire doesn’t offend the students or faculty.

Fortuitously, I was still wearing the clothes

I had travelled in, making a change unnecessary, however,

“Clean.”

Even so, attending while covered in sweat and

various unidentifiable fluids felt somewhat inappropriate,

so I quickly used the everyday life spell ‘Clean’

to purify myself.

Right then and there, all the unpleasant

liquids, dried and clinging

to my clothes, began to lift away.

‘This everyday magic, it’s certainly

convenient now that I’ve learned it…’

Just like that, I was neatened up,

looking presentable again. I glanced at my reflection,

a boy stood there with raven hair and eyes.

‘No matter how I look at it, my face is pretty, but my

body is covered in scars…a mismatch, truly.’

Still, I was lucky enough to have

one of the better faces I’ve had in all my lives.

Was it Sariel’s and the Duke’s superior genes?

‘…Honestly, I didn’t want to resemble the Duke.’

Lost in those idle thoughts,

I shifted the direction of my steps,

and so, after roughly fifty days, I finally set foot outside.

*

“Hey…Isn’t that Jennison??”

“Ugh…Wasn’t that thug expelled…?”

“Half the class is going to be a mess again for a while.”

“No, I heard he was kicked out of his family??”

“What? Does that mean he’s a commoner?”

Sure enough, as expected,

the moment I walked into the classroom, students

began to buzz and whisper amongst themselves,

and I, paying them

no mind, went to sit

in the seat furthest in the corner.

A more shallow reaction than I anticipated.

I thought the rumor that I’d become a commoner

would have spread more widely by now.

I relaxed, relieved that no projectile had been

hurled at me, and slumped onto my desk,

and no one sat beside me,

while the whispers directed at me

only grew louder.

Whether or not it was truly confirmed I’d become a commoner,

whether they no longer needed to worry about the Duke’s retaliation now.

A variety of threatening remarks

It began filtering into my ears, ever so steadily,

but I remained motionless, unwilling to rise from my seat.

The reasons they might resent me…

Well, there were far too many that sprung to mind.

Thud—

Lying prone like that, so still,

a wad of paper struck my head, falling to the floor.

For a moment, I was dumbfounded, struck by the utter *classicism* of the harassment.

Turning, I saw the group giggling,

and among them, I dredged up the name of the tanned, blonde-haired fellow,

the sort who looked like he’d happily steal another man’s woman.

Leon Benil, eldest son of the Benil family.

Not particularly renowned, that family,

but I remembered they were, at least, a Count’s lineage.

“Hee hee hee…”

‘Why does he laugh so… unnervingly?’

I wanted to cave in the grinning

b*stard’s jaw right then and there,

but I was no longer affiliated with my family,

and he was the Count’s heir, which meant

the very idea of me striking him

was utterly preposterous.

‘Rather tame, this bullying.

I can tolerate this much, surely?’

And so, throughout the lessons,

wads of paper flew, tapping my head.

Walking down the halls, shoulders

bumped into mine, or my foot would catch on something, nearly sending me sprawling.

I returned from the lavatory to find

my texts and books gone from my desk,

and my desktop covered in vile insults and curses.

Still, I voiced no complaint,

and those tormenting me,

perhaps disappointed by the lack of

reaction, were down to a mere handful by the end of the day’s lectures.

‘Finally… one day down…’

And so, after the last lecture,

Having finished up and taken a trip to the restroom, I went to gather my things, but my eyes met those of the blokes already occupying my spot.

“Uh? Heh heh, oh no, we’ve been spotted.”

“See? I told you we should’ve just used it quickly and bolted.”

“Ah, just a little bit more and I could have filled it all…”

It was those same guys from earlier.

Leon Benil and what appeared to be his cronies.

Leon Benil himself, however, remained seated calmly in my place,

While the others seemed to be vying for position

to scribble all over my desk.

‘When am I ever going to clean all this up…’

Thinking that to myself, I heaved a great sigh and

started toward the back door, intending to retrieve a rag.

“Hold it right there, you.”

The voice calling out to me made me turn reflexively,

and in that instant, a fist, having closed the distance to my nose,

slammed into my face.

Thwack—

Thumpathumpa—

I’m only saying this now, but the class I was in was, in its own way,

a collection of families who were doing quite well, and

most of them would support their child to the greatest extent possible.

Because no parent likes their child to get beaten up.

Hmm? What am I getting at?

I’m referring to the reason why, thanks to that fist just now,

my body is currently suspended in the air,

rolling across the floor for what feels like the third time.

“A commoner like you… Got a problem with that?”

I wanted to immediately snap back at that voice,

a voice that grated on my nerves to even hear,

‘Of course I bloody do!’ But

before I could utter those words, I had to remind myself of my station.

He was an aristocrat, a scion of the third-highest rank,

and I was, quite literally, just a commoner.

The price a commoner paid for talking back to an aristocrat

was unimaginably cruel, so knowing that fact, I suppressed my anger

He answered with a ripened smile, one that held something back.

“Whatever do you mean?

I harbor no grievances.”

“…Then what was the meaning of that sigh just now?”

“Simply a gasp of awe,

at the diligent artistry

your fine selves have bestowed upon my desk, no?”

Leon’s eyes widened,

his face contorting in a display of utter disbelief.

“You…are you truly that arrogant Jennison?”

“….”

“Keuh…so you are just another fool, waving your family name around.”

“….”

“I loathe your kind the most.

Unable to do anything yourself,

yet throwing your weight around like thugs, thanks to your lineage.”

“….”

“Where is that conceited attitude of yours gone?”

I wanted to ask if he, too, was tormenting

me solely because of that family name,

but I knew better than to think

such words would reach him.

So, forcing down the boiling within,

I conjured another

of my most agreeable smiles.

“Forgive me. It seems I was going through

a phase of utter callowness… If it hasn’t

too greatly displeased you, I would like to offer my apologies.”

To defuse this situation,

I once more adopted a subservient stance,

and a mirthless smile began to spread

across his face as he observed me.

“Displeased me, you say…”

“….”

“Indeed, you displeased me greatly.

You were the loudest despite being a talentless simpleton.”

“….”

“I have always, without exception,

found you utterly repulsive.”

…What is this, in the end he just had to personally…

No real harm was done, true.

But did they mean to torment me

simply because they loathed the sight of me?

‘…Such hypocrisy.’

Deciding he was not worth

any further engagement, I bowed

my head to him once, then turned

to retrieve my towel once more.

But then, a sound reached my ears I could not ignore.

“You really think we’ll excuse everything

you’ve done, just because you were ‘too young’?”

“..Haha, how could I possibly─”

“Is that how your late mother

raised you? Figures, coming from

common stock, the upbringing would be low-born too?”

It must have been at that instant.

That I, without warning, surged

towards him and seized his collar in my grip.

“What? You son of a b*tch?”

The curse words spilled from my lips, unburdened.