“My name is Roxy.
Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
She wore a brown magician’s robe, her water-blue hair tied back in a braid.
Petite and neat, that was the first impression she gave.
Skin pale as snow, not a trace of sun on it.
Eyes half-lidded, like she’d been pulled out of bed too soon.
Lips pressed shut in a way that read as cool, even cold.
She wasn’t wearing glasses, but she looked exactly like the type who spent her days buried in a library corner somewhere.
Her only luggage: a leather satchel and a staff that screamed magician.
All three of us came out to greet her.
“….”
Once my parents got a clear look at her, they couldn’t seem to find words.
Understandable, really.
The person standing in front of them was nothing like what they’d pictured.
They’d been hiring a home tutor.
They’d probably imagined someone with a few decades of weathering on them.
What showed up was this.
“Ah…
um…
are you…
the one who’s supposed to be…
the home tutor?”
“Well…
you look rather…”
They were struggling.
So I helped them out.
“Very young.”
“You have no right to call me young.”
She shot back without missing a beat.
…Look, you can’t even match my previous life’s age, can you?
Middle school, tops?
And you’re already qualified to teach?
No, wait.
Don’t be arrogant about it.
Maybe she’s one of those geniuses this world produces.
Magic exists here, after all.
Yeah.
That’s probably it.
At her age, she’d need to be something extraordinary to have any business teaching me.
With that settled in my mind, I found I could actually respect her.
Roxy sighed.
“Hah…
So.
Where is the student I’m supposed to be teaching?”
She glanced around as she asked.
“Ah — it’s this child.”
Zenith pulled me forward by the hand, bringing me right in front of her.
I gave her a casual one-eyed wink in greeting.
“Hello, Teacher.”
I’m never stingy with respect toward genuine talent.
Roxy stiffened.
Then she exhaled.
“Hah…
There’s always a few like this…
foolish parents who decide their child is some kind of prodigy just because they grew a little faster than the other kids…”
She was murmuring.
Probably thought no one was listening.
“I can hear you, Teacher Roxy,” I said pleasantly, keeping my voice low.
“Uh…” Her expression flickered, caught off guard, just slightly.
Oh well.
As long as my parents hadn’t heard.
Zenith stepped up beside me.
“Is there a problem?”
“No, but…
I don’t believe your son will be able to comprehend magical theory.”
“It’s fine!
Our little Rudeus is very talented!”
Classic biased parent response.
Roxy sighed again.
“Hah…
Very well.
I’ll do what I can.”
She’d decided further argument wasn’t worth the breath.
And so my new routine began: Roxy’s lessons in the morning, sword training with Paul in the afternoon.
…
“Alright, let’s start with this magic textbook — actually, before that, let’s see how much magic Rudeus can already use.”
Rudeus.
She uses my name like she knows me.
Though I suppose a girl this petite becoming a teacher at fifteen or sixteen must have something remarkable about her.
In that case, I’d allow the familiarity.
I nodded with a smile.
Roxy led me out to the yard.
Smart.
She clearly knew what happened when magic went off inside a house.
“I’ll demonstrate first.
May the great blessing of water descend upon the place you seek, let the cool shallow stream manifest here — [WaterBall].”
A blue orb of water formed in front of her palm as she finished the chant.
It shot across the yard and slammed into a tree.
SPLAT-CRACK!
The trunk snapped clean through.
Water sprayed the fence behind it.
So she really is a genius.
Or maybe my earlier theory was just wrong.
That low-tier spell she’d just cast hit with far more force than anything I could manage at that level.
Realizing that, my respect for her ticked up another notch.
“What do you think?”
“I think Teacher is very impressive.”
I walked over to the tree as I said it, and began to chant.
“Sacred power, mellow nourishment, grant the strength to rise once more to those who have lost their vigor…”
The trunk was already knitting itself back together before I finished the words.
I turned around to face her.
Roxy was staring.
“Teacher, this tree was carefully tended by my mother.
I don’t think she’d appreciate it being used for a demonstration.”
“Eh?
Really?”
“I believe so.”
“Uh…
right.
On another note, Rudeus, you can use healing magic?” She changed the subject with the smoothness of someone who absolutely did not just accidentally destroy a sentimental tree.
“Yes.
Up to intermediate level.”
“Is that so…
That’s impressive.”
“Not nearly as impressive as you, Teacher.
What you just showed me with the water magic, I couldn’t produce that.”
I wasn’t lying.
With low-tier casting, I genuinely couldn’t match the raw power of what she’d just done.
“With proper training, anyone can reach that level.”
Her tone stayed cool, but the corners of her mouth were already creeping up against her will, and she gave a smug little twitch of her nose.
She was pleased, whatever she wanted her face to say about it.
Right.
Even if she was someone’s teacher, she was still a teenage girl on the inside.
A kid, when it came down to it.
Holding that thought, I fell back into step beside her.
“Are there other spells you’d like to demonstrate, Teacher?”
“No…
Next, I want you to replicate the water bullet from before.
Ah, don’t aim at that tree.” She tugged her hat brim down and said it quietly, like she was hoping I hadn’t noticed her embarrassment.
Replicate Roxy’s water bullet.
No need to show off in front of my own teacher.
I’d match it exactly, nothing more.
“May the great blessing of water…”
I hadn’t bothered memorizing the full chant, so I let it trail off, and fired.
The water bullet that came out was a clean copy of hers, though I was aware on my end that I’d produced it as intermediate magic.
It sailed out past the yard.
Roxy watched the result with an unreadable expression.
“You shortened the incantation?”
“Yes.
Is that a problem?”
I’d always cast without incantations.
It had never felt like anything was wrong.
But had I been making some critical mistake all along without knowing it?
“Do you normally shorten the incantation?”
“No.
Normally I don’t chant at all.”
I hesitated a beat before answering honestly.
This was my home.
If she had a problem with it, it wasn’t like she could run off and report me on the spot.
“Don’t chant at all…?”
Roxy stared down at me, her eyes going wide, skepticism written plainly across her face.
“I see…
you don’t chant as a rule.
Are you tired right now?”
Then she smoothed her expression into something carefully casual.
“No.”
“I see.
The size and power of the water bullet were both impeccable.”
“Thank you.”
That was when Roxy finally smiled.
The corners of her mouth pulled up, and she murmured, almost under her breath:
“Feels like it might actually be worth training you properly.”
She probably assumed I couldn’t hear her.
Same mistake as before.
What a careless girl.
“Then, on to the next spell…”
I spent the rest of that morning running through chantless magic of every kind.
Roxy talked through each one with clear, practiced authority, but the whole time, I had the distinct sense that she was less teaching and more observing, studying me like a rare specimen she hadn’t expected to find.
➤ Next: Well, She Is a Maiden After All?