Axion—the academy city.
The magical capital said to produce every mage on the continent.
Before its enormous gates, a long line of freshmen in splendid robes stretched out before the checkpoint.
“Next.”
A guard holding a spear beckoned.
When Aion Iskar stepped forward, the guard’s gaze lingered on his worn leather coat. It was a rough outfit that did not suit the refined scenery of the city.
No, it was the fact that he was wearing clothes far too thick for the weather here that stood out.
“...Well, well.”
The guard stared at Aion’s face, then muttered to himself.
“Lots of northerners coming down today. Those big fellows who passed by earlier too—aren’t they a bit far removed from being mages?”
It was not a question that expected an answer. Just a complaint to ease his boredom. It was a fairly rude monologue, but Aion did not bother responding.
Instead, he carefully handed over the acceptance letter he had kept uncreased inside his coat.
“Hmm, let’s see.”
The guard took the letter and checked its contents.
“Aion Iskar... Iskar?”
The guard looked up at Aion once more. It was not contempt or a challenge. Just surprise.
“The great Iskar family of the North? I think this is the first time I’ve seen that family name here. The Iskars haven’t produced a single mage until now, have they?”
The rudeness had gone too far.
When Aion met his eyes, the guard realized his mistake and cleared his throat.
“Ahem... My apologies.”
Thud!
The guard stamped the entry confirmation and returned the letter.
“Pass. Don’t get lost. This place is rather complicated.”
“...Thank you for your service.”
Aion gave a brief greeting and tucked away the letter. As he stepped through the gate, he heard the guard call for the next person behind him.
“Next!”
Aion hesitated for a moment, then pulled his collar closed and began walking.
So this is Axion...
There was no city this lavish or noisy in the North. Aion thought that perhaps the splendor was not so bad.
Of course, finding one’s way around was quite difficult once the commercial district and central quarter were included.
The elves who have lived only in forests would be dizzy if they saw Axion.
Demihumans such as elves had yet to fully integrate into society.
Though it was not his place to worry about others. Aion, too, was an alien presence amid the overwhelming grandeur of Axion.
“...It’s hot.”
Aion Iskar stopped just inside the gate.
Floating-stone streetlamps hung in the air.
“Ha ha ha!”
“Careful! Slow down!”
“Hurry up!”
Students in Axion uniforms ran through the streets.
Before that dazzling sight, Aion unconsciously looked down at his hand.
“...”
He clenched and unclenched it.
Thick calluses covered his large hand.
The hand of one who had trained with a sword.
“Whew...”
But whatever his past had been, Aion had come here with the same goal as every other new student: to become a mage.
“Is it that way?”
Step. Step.
“What? A leather coat in this weather?”
“A country bumpkin? Though he doesn’t look like a commoner.”
He heard passing students whispering in the distance. Aion did not respond.
Perhaps it was fortunate that people judged him by his appearance alone.
If they had discovered just how abysmal his magical talent was, their assessments would have been even harsher.
Aion was accustomed to receiving poor evaluations from others, but that did not make them easier to bear.
Even so, he had come here. Because he wanted to learn. Because, though he knew the limits of his talent, he did not want to give up.
—Aion, won’t you become a mage?
...Even now, it was an absurd proposal.
A meeting with someone had brought him all the way here. Someone who had suggested he become a mage despite his scant magical talent.
And in the end, Aion had walked the path of a mage, just as that person had said.
For an untalented person like him to be accepted into Axion—the continent’s greatest and only orthodox academy of magic—was a miracle in itself.
Aion did not want to let that miracle slip away.
And so, he quietly made his way toward the academy admissions office.
***
“Hmm... A child of the Iskar family at Axion? How unusual.”
“...”
“Unusual... Truly unusual.... It has never happened before....”
By the time Aion began wondering how many more times the person in front of him intended to say unusual—
Thud!
—the admissions mage finally handed him a stamped sheet of parchment.
“Go to Hazel Hall of Lumenia Dormitory. That will be your home for the next four years.”
“...Thank you.”
“You’re quieter than you look. I heard Northerners were hot-tempered.”
“...”
When Aion looked at the mage, the man clutched his chest and said,“D-Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“...?”
Aion recalled being told that his gaze could often seem frightening, and understood the mage’s reaction.
“Anyway, enjoy academy life.”
“Yes.”
Aion turned and headed toward the campus.
After passing through another simple checkpoint leading into the academy district, an enormous arched structure known as Axion Academy’s main gate came into view.
“...So this is the Gate of Truth.”
The Gate of Truth.
A legendary gateway said to have been built thousands of years ago by the progenitor of magic, who first brought magic to the continent.
An oft-quoted inscription, familiar to any mage, had been carved into the weathered stone.
—I saw the sea.
Passing freshmen giggled as they read the short sentence.
“Lady Mirse supposedly said it when the first mage encountered mana. How beautiful—I saw the sea, she said.”
“I know. They say mana really feels like an ocean once you become a great mage.”
“Haha... Someday, I too....”
Soon, Aion stood before the gate. He raised his head and stared at the rough lettering.
I saw the sea...
Aion gave a bitter smile.
What sea? His body was a parched desert, incapable of producing even a drop of water.
The flow of mana, which others supposedly sensed as naturally as breathing, was a mirage that refused to come into focus for him.
Beyond the gate lay the area where freshmen were registered.
Crystal orbs and bizarre magical devices had been set up at the entrance to the grounds.
The procedure was simple. Place a hand on the crystal orb and register one’s mana signature.
Like a fingerprint, every person’s mana signature was unique, serving as proof of identity.
A simple procedure that any new student admitted to Axion could complete with ease.
Whuum—
“Confirmed. Next!”
The person ahead of him passed with a bright sound. It was Aion’s turn.
He placed his rough hand atop the crystal orb.
Silence.
“...”
Nothing happened.
The crystal, which had shone brilliantly moments earlier, remained silent as a dead stone. The mage frowned and tapped the orb.
“Hey. Don’t just put your hand on it—send mana into it.”
“I am.”
“You are?”
The registration mage checked the crystal’s readings in disbelief. The needle on the device beside it did not move at all.
...No. Looking more closely, it was trembling slightly.
“Try concentrating a little harder. This thing has never malfunctioned before....”
“...”
His responsiveness to mana was atrociously low. His magic power was only barely above that of an ordinary person.
The assistant’s expression changed in an instant—from bewilderment, to contempt, to disgust.
“What is going on? Why can’t someone get through that line?”
“Is someone unable to pass? Something like this at illustrious Axion?”
“Perhaps the magic device is broken.”
Murmurs rose from the line behind him. It was not mere curiosity.
It was unmistakable displeasure.
Some impatient nobles raised their voices.
“Hah. Does Axion accept just anyone these days? This is such a pitiful level.”
“Every dog and cow wants to become a mage these days. Lesser nobles will shove even their talentless children into Axion if given the chance.”
“He does not know his place. Was he admitted through fraud?”
“Looks like he’s from the North. As expected, they say no mages come from there.”
Blatant mockery.
Scornful looks that regarded him as worthless trash contaminating a sacred hall of learning.
“Quiet! Stop causing a disturbance!”
After barking out an order, the mage sighed deeply and rummaged through a drawer at the back of his desk.
Clatter.
He took out an old parchment covered in dust, along with an ink pen.
“Do it by hand. Fill in this, this, and the entire back page. We’ll postpone your measurement.”
The mage held out the pen.
“...”
Aion took it.
Where everyone else passed easily, he had to lower his head and move his pen in haste.
Scratch, scratch.
His handwriting did not shake, but he felt humiliated.
...This is the worst.
The ordinary sounds of a magical city.
Whenever the incongruous scratching of his pen was heard, the whispers behind him became thorns lodged in his back.
“Look at that. He’s using a pen here.”
“He’s registering by hand? A mage? What is he, a caveman?”
Snickering laughter.
Aion pressed his lips firmly together and silently finished the final signature. Black ink dirtied his fingertips.
Just like the emotion he felt now.
...Quite a spectacle for my first day.
Aion hurried away from the registration area as though being driven out. Rubbing at the ink stains on his hands, he swallowed down his bitterness and headed for the dormitory.
In the distance, he spotted an enclosure raising beasts he had never seen before.
Is this because it’s a magic academy...? They keep even dangerous-looking creatures with barely any safety measures.
A coachman’s voice drifted from afar as he dismounted from a black horse and tried to calm it.
“Easy now....”
Snort...
“Easy. Calm down, now. Easy....”
Snort... snort....
Something appeared to be going wrong, and the coachman kept trying to settle the horse.
It has a horn. Is that... a bicorn?
The monster that stood opposite to a unicorn.
Aion had long heard that black horses like that were extraordinarily vicious. This was the first time he had seen one in person.
“Easy now....”
Snort...
“E-Easy... eaasy—Aaaagh!”
Neighhhhh!
Thud!
The coachman, who had been standing before the horse only moments ago, was struck by its head and sent flying helplessly, blood spraying from his body.
“Eeeek!”
“A-Aaaah!”
It all happened in an instant.
“Someone stop it!”
“Uh... th-that thing...!”
Clang!
With the sound of chains snapping, the bicorn’s jet-black mane flew in the wind as it broke free of its restraints.
“A bicorn has escaped!”
“Damn it... Watch out!”
The peaceful campus was instantly filled with screams.
The released bicorn fixed its murderous red eyes ahead and charged.
Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud!
The problem was that an silver-haired girl stood far ahead of Aion, directly in its path.
“Eeeek!”
A bicorn’s horn could pierce stone.
Boom!
The bicorn leapt as if compressing space itself, aiming for the girl.
...She’ll die.
If an untrained person were struck head-on by the horn of a two-horned beast, they would not escape fatal injury.
At that moment, someone’s voice drove into Aion’s mind like a thorn.
—I think Aion will definitely become a kind mage.
Aion bit his lip.
Of all times, why did he have to remember those words now?
...Damn it!
Aion’s body shot toward the girl at terrifying speed.
Tap!
Just before the collision, he shoved her away.
“...Damn.”
But having pulled the girl from danger, he collided with the bicorn in her place.
Neighhh!
Thud!
“Ghk!”
Riiing—
Amid the ringing in his ears caused by the violent impact, several voices blended together.
【...He’s being swallowed!】
【M-Maybe this is better!】
【Ah, whatever!】
Aion had no room to concern himself with the voices.
Boom!
His body, which had been sent soaring, crashed to the ground.
Dust rose once before settling over the path where the bicorn had rampaged.
The surrounding students stood frozen, mouths agape, while some shut their eyes at the gruesome sight of blood sprayed across the ground.
Ssssss—
Aion groaned in pain amid the rising dust.
Pheeeew!
As guards ran across the campus, the situation began to come under control.
At least... I’m... alive?
【Whew... We somehow managed to make contact with this one.】
【Could this count as a success?】
【Hee hee hee hee! Success, my ass. We’re all doomed!】
Ugh... It hurts... And now I’m hearing things....
The scene from moments ago flashed through the fallen Aion’s mind: the bicorn charging straight at him, furious breath spilling from its nostrils.
I wish I could at least pass out.
As if the agony crushing his entire body was not enough, the hallucinated voices grew sharper.
【Hee hee hee! You can hear us now, can’t you?】
A mad, laughing voice.
【Idiot... You nearly lost your life trying to save a woman whose face you did not even know.】
A cold, biting rebuke.
【He has lost too much blood. It would be difficult to judge him to be in a sound condition.】
A mechanical analysis.
【Oh dear, nothing seems broken, but he is in such pain. What are we to do?】
And even the voice of an old woman, filled with pity.
Am I dreaming...? Why are there voices....
The voices did not disappear.
For some reason, they grew clearer by the second.
Aion forced his eyelids open.
【He opened his eyes!】
“...Who are you?”
【Huh? What did he say?】
【Could he be talking about us?】
“...Yes.”
Aion forced himself to finish the sentence.
“...Who are you people?”
The voices he had been hearing were briefly thrown into confusion by Aion’s reply.
Then one of them answered his question.
【We are you, fifty years in the future.】
An unbelievable answer followed.
“...”
【We are all mages who have reached the end of reason....】
The voice grew hazy.
【And just now, you swallowed us.】
Even as his consciousness faded, Aion left behind one final thing that needed to be said.
“...Bullshit.”
Aion lost consciousness, his body going limp.