Genius Wizard Conceals His Origins

A squad of Frauvian soldiers in sand-colored raincoats walks in a line down the avenue.

Their pace was quite fast, and after about 20 seconds, they were no longer visible through the small window in the door.

But even when I moved a step away from the entrance, the distinctive color of their coats seemed to ripple like an afterimage.

It was too alien a sight to forget with just a few blinks.

If I were to make a comparison, it was like a heavy snowfall in midsummer.

Just as it’s impossible for snow to fall in the hot summer, there’s no reason for soldiers to be striding through the streets of Frauzen, the center of the Federation and an area without any military bases nearby.

There are two possibilities.

Either the war situation has become so urgent overnight that we need to prepare for an inland advance…

Or, they have business here.

“…Whichever it is, it’s not enough reason to be absent from work.”

A shallow sigh escaped.

Just then, the clouds parted slightly, and the leaking sunlight hit my eyes. Morning.

Since I had already stepped away from the entrance, I quickly finished the task I had momentarily forgotten.

I found a suitable piece of paper and grabbed a pencil.

[ Good morning ]

[ I fried some eggs ]

[ I’ll be back ]

Only after leaving this simple message did I grab the doorknob and step out of the entrance.

It was a bit cold outside.

Instead of resenting the autumn that was about to reveal its true colors, I gently rubbed my bare nape.

Right. I should ask for a scarf as a gift for this year’s end-of-year party.

And.

“You two there. Which laboratory are you visiting?”

Upon arriving at my laboratory in Research Building 2 of the Frauzen Federal University of Magic’s Research Wing, I found two uninvited guests standing in front of my lab door.

Unlike the term ‘uninvited guests’ might suggest, I was familiar with one of them.

Lieutenant Hans Zeller responded in his unique manner. *1

“Oh. It’s been a while, Dr. Oslo.”

“It’s been a few months. So, which professor are you looking for? You’re probably not familiar with the Research Wing’s layout, so I’ll guide you.”

“That won’t be necessary.” [Only on Galaxy Translations! / Axiomatic]

It’s awkward when the number of conversation partners increases midway.

That means someone has joined the conversation.

But the owner of that stern voice seemed to have the right to ignore such conversational etiquette, boldly stepping in front of Lieutenant Zeller.

I’ve never heard of such a right existing in life.

“Who might you be?”

I saw the white-streaked hair of the middle-aged officer.

I saw the wrinkles on his face, the slightly faded uniform.

After confirming he was a smoker from the smell reaching my nose, I finally checked his shoulder boards and collar patches.

“Lieutenant Colonel Odilo Dietrich. Doctor. What I’m looking for is your laboratory, so no guidance is needed. Instead, please use your key to open the door.”

Only then did I recall that such a right partially exists.

He is Lieutenant Zeller’s far superior. He has the implicit right to cut off his subordinate’s words.

However, that right doesn’t apply to those not affiliated with the military.

As I inserted the key into the door and turned it halfway, I casually said:

“Have you brought up an interesting story?”

“Unfortunately, it might be an uninteresting one.”

“That’s a pity.”

Click.

The laboratory door opened.

“Come in.”

I said, hiding my tightly clenched fist with a nonchalant expression.

Among senior scholars, it’s not uncommon to find those who sometimes enjoy breathing smoke rather than air.

On a frantically hot summer day, even for me, who constantly held a pipe, that behavior is hard to understand. That is, unless they’ve grown up unable to break the habit of picky eating, to the point of being picky even about air.

While I might not understand the principle behind their actions, I know the actions themselves very well.

Wherever they go, they first put a pipe in their mouth and take out the matchbox in their front pocket.

Lieutenant Colonel Odilo Dietrich before me also seemed to be a terrible picky eater.

“Excuse me.”

The Lieutenant Colonel asked for my understanding and then took out an ebony pipe.

I predicted his next actions. He would skillfully fill it with tobacco and then take out a matchbox.

It happened exactly as I thought. [Only on Galaxy Translations! / Axiomatic]

Except for the fact that the pocket location was different from a typical jacket due to his military uniform, the Lieutenant Colonel took out the matchbox in a perfectly predictable manner.

Tap, tap.

As he tapped the bottom of the matchbox, the paper case opened with a crack.

Just as the Lieutenant Colonel, holding the bottom of a match, was about to strike it against the side of the matchbox…

Halt. 

That arm stopped in mid-air.

Utterly artificially.

“…”

The Lieutenant Colonel slowly raised his head.

While ordinary people experiencing this strange phenomenon would lie awake at night, unable to find the cause, it seems that’s not the case for a Lieutenant Colonel entering a University of Magic.

Lieutenant Colonel Dietrich moved the pipe he was holding in his mouth to his hand.

He asked:

“Is this silent magic? What’s it called?”

“This is a no-smoking area.”

“That doesn’t seem to be the name. In any case, among the magic scholars I know, you’re the first to handle grimoires like a third hand.”

It was the language of praise, but was not spoken with the tone of praise.

It was a cramped laboratory. With its narrow and long structure, and considering only my convenience, there’s only one chair for guests.

It’s not an environment conducive to giving compliments pleasantly.

“Hold this.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Lieutenant Colonel handed the pipe to Lieutenant Zeller, who was standing at attention behind the chair.

Soon after, he put the matchbox back and opened his mouth with an exhalation that seemed to emit smoke.

“I’ll take that as an intention to get to the point quickly, Dr. Oslo.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Starting tomorrow, September 27th, an order for Dr. Eugene Oslo’s house arrest has been issued. As of midnight today, the doctor will be restricted from going out and conducting research activities. Eight personnel will constantly monitor your residence, and when going out, you must obtain permission according to strict criteria. If you understand, nod your head.”

I strained my neck to avoid nodding even by mistake.

If you focus too much on hiding your agitation, it becomes even more noticeable.

I asked with wide eyes: [Only on Galaxy Translations! / Axiomatic]

“Whose order is this?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“It’s not an order from the military authorities, is it?”

“Why do you think that?”

Because Major Dorothy, an insider in the Federal Army, hadn’t said a word about this situation.

It was far from logical, so I just looked at the Lieutenant Colonel silently.

Unlike in papers, in conversations, silence often guarantees higher trust than explanations.

The first to sigh was the Lieutenant Colonel.

“It’s an order at the Federal level.”

“What’s the reason? Why a house arrest?”

“It would be better to ask that question to yourself, not me.”

I swallowed a bit of air.

Before I could reflexively respond with something like “What do you mean?”, my brain had already produced an answer to that.

I never thought it would last forever.

But the timing is bad.

My inference soon transformed into fact.

The Lieutenant Colonel emotionlessly listed information about me.

“Administrative registration name Eugene Oslo. Charges of illegal entry, stateless residence. Charges of identity forgery. Multiple other charges. If you have any objections, speak now, Imperial.”

Certainty is embedded in his assertive tone.

“…”

I took a deep breath internally.

It would be a lie to say I was mentally prepared.

But it wasn’t unexpected enough to immediately lose my composure either.

The Lieutenant Colonel, after confirming my indifferent expression, continued speaking.

“If there are no objections, I’ll continue. Following the emergence of the Reactionary Government, the purging of pro-Empire personnel is in full swing according to the higher-ups’ intentions. Especially, forged origins now allow for detention without a warrant.”

“Then, why aren’t you detaining me immediately?”

“Hm?”

I retorted.

“If purging and detention are the higher-ups’ intentions, shouldn’t you proceed with that? I don’t think the reason for kindly explaining internal affairs to an Imperial is simply due to your warm nature.”

“…”

“Please tell me the story you said you brought. Not just notifications.”

At that moment, the Lieutenant Colonel, who had been expressionless all along, showed a faint smile.

I don’t think he found my answer amusing. 

Then…

Did he like it? [Only on Galaxy Translations! / Axiomatic]

Lieutenant Colonel Dietrich, not hiding his smile, quickly scanned my laboratory.

Fully packed bookshelves. A desk seeking order within chaos, and a blackboard that, after enduring thousands of attacks from easily erasable chalk, finally gained indelible scars.

After looking around this quintessentially scholarly scene, the Lieutenant Colonel looked at me.

“Dr. Oslo. You will be given a choice.”

The title returned.

“The purging of pro-Empire personnel is the higher-ups’ intention. And the dislike for listening to superiors’ orders doesn’t change whether you’re a lieutenant or a lieutenant colonel.”

“Are you saying you won’t follow orders, Lieutenant Colonel?”

“For magic scholars, at least. It’s not just me. The entire Federal Military is expressing reluctance towards indiscriminate ideological checks and personnel purges in the magical academic community.”

“Why is that?”

“Because the treatment of excellent magic scholars is the key to resolving the current standoff. Every time we expel one scholar, it’s like retiring a warship, and if an expelled scholar is lured by the Reactionary Government and defects to the Empire, it’s like losing a perfectly good warship.”

I lowered my gaze.

Even though it was a statement highly valuing my worth, I didn’t feel happy at all.

Magic scholars should be evaluated by their magic, not by their tactical value.

And.

“I don’t want to say this to you, Lieutenant Colonel, who is well-versed in military science, but that’s a wrong judgment.”

“Please explain.”

I prepared a common-sense rebuttal.

Unlike warships, magic scholars are completely useless in war.

The combat magic spells [Shoot] and [Barrier] have been transformed into a form of entertainment called mock duels, and even the few intersections between magic scholars and military scholars now bear the title of engineers, don’t they?

I answered, implying that meaning.

“Haven’t magic scholars been half-obsolete in war since the invention of firearms?”

“You’re wrong.” [Only on Galaxy Translations! / Axiomatic]

“Pardon?”

“Magic studies are about to become part of war history once again.”

At that moment.

Something flashed through my mind.

The Lieutenant Colonel pointed at me with his finger.

“Dr. Oslo, it’s based on the research you helped with.”

T/N

I only looked up who Hans Zeller was while I searched if Odilo Deitrich existed in real life. The latter does not exist in real life, but Hans Zeller seems to be a reference to the fictional villain of the same name in The Sound of Music. His position was the Gauleiter of Austria under Nazi Germany, and reported directly to Hitler. Gauleiters were the political rulers of the territory they were assigned to (Source: Shark from the GalaxyTL Discord).