-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: The Little Mage
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"This is the communal dining hall."
"The communal dining hall, huh."
"Normally, meals are served at 7 a.m., noon, and 6 p.m., but if you request at other times, we can provide food then as well."
"Who usually eats here?"
"Pretty much all the vassals residing in the Lord's Manor eat here. Those who are married and live outside eat out there. The servants have their own separate dining hall."
"Can squires eat here too?"
"Yes. Most people serving as squires live in the Lord's Manor, so they usually eat here. But if you'd prefer to eat separately, just let us know, and we'll bring your meals to you."
"Like the breakfast I had this morning."
Arsen nodded nonchalantly, committing the location of the communal dining hall to memory.
After meeting the Estate Lord, he'd slept through from early evening until the next day to recover his weary body. Then, after settling breakfast via room service, he'd been following the maid around to learn the layout of the Lord's Manor.
The Lord's Manor was so enormous that calling it "learning the layout" didn't feel out of place at all.
It stood six stories tall, with all sorts of facilities on every floor.
Even this dining hall they were in now looked like it could seat dozens at a single long table.
"Then, next I'll guide you to the training grounds..."
The maid was about to lead Arsen to the next spot when she looked ahead, let out a gasp, and took a step back.
Standing in front of the maid was a girl with black bobbed hair. She looked about the same age as Arsen, maybe fourteen or so?
Her face was slathered with what looked like red and blue paint, making it hard to make out her features.
In her left hand, she held a wooden stick of unknown purpose.
"L-Lady...?"
"Ursula Armatia Takaraba."
The girl swung the stick around whoosh-whoosh, muttering incomprehensible words as she slowly approached.
What kind of childish prank was this?
Arsen stared in dumbfounded amusement, but the maid beside him started trembling like she'd seen a ghost.
"What the..."
"Rawr!"
"Eeeeek!"
Just as he was about to ask what was going on, the girl opened her mouth wide, let out a yell, and thrust the stick forward. The maid screamed and fled.
Leaving Arsen standing there, utterly baffled by the farce.
Having chased off the maid with her yell, the girl noticed Arsen still standing there and awkwardly stepped back herself.
"Why didn't you run?"
'Why would I run?'
About to retort like that, Arsen recalled the maid calling her "Lady" moments ago.
In this territory, the only one who'd be called that was probably the Estate Lord's daughter.
"Are you perhaps the Estate Lord's daughter?"
He'd never learned what relations knights or squires had with the lord's daughter, but from his army days and social experience, when relations weren't clear, it was best to err on the side of respect.
If they deserved it, you broke even; if not, no big loss. But the opposite? Screw up and you lost big.
Unfortunately, this world's language had strict formal/informal distinctions like Korean, so he had to mind that.
"Yeah. But why didn't you run!? Who are you!?"
She yelled what was meant to be a fierce outburst, but a kid with paint smeared on her face just looked ridiculous.
Still, she was the lord's daughter, so respect was due. Thinking that, Arsen placed his right hand between his collarbones and bowed as he'd been taught.
"I'm Arsen, the knight newly assigned to serve as squire under Sir Palato."
"Uh... a knight... serving as squire? So are you a squire or a knight?"
"Hmm, honestly, I'm curious about that myself, Lady."
Seeing her puzzled expression, Arsen smiled awkwardly too.
This ambiguous status stemmed from his current situation.
Normally, knights constantly trained their bodies and built mana adaptation until awakening. But Arsen had awakened as a knight without any such training, for some reason.
Awakening mana was the requirement for knighthood, so he was a knight—but his abilities were woefully inadequate for knightly duties.
Thus, he'd been placed under Sir Palato to build experience as a squire, but he couldn't exactly call himself one either.
Squires were basically 'knight candidates' who might or might not become knights with luck. Arsen, having already awakened mana, was a knight by that metric—and with age and steady training, he'd surely be formally instated.
Hence this bizarre 'knight-squire' status.
The girl stared at him wide-eyed, her expression like she'd never seen a person smile before.
"So, could you tell me why I should have run?"
"I-I'm a mage! A mage! Don't you know what a mage is!?"
"Ah... You're a mage, got it."
Even so, he couldn't connect her being a mage with the painted face, stick-waving rampage terrorizing maids.
She didn't seem like a real mage to begin with.
Arsen's idea of a mage was a dignified old man like Gandalf, or at least someone sinister in robes—not some wild brat painting her face and scaring servants.
No way this childish nonsense was some magical ritual.
Probably just playing pretend. Deciding to humor her, Arsen smiled as gently as he could.
"Sorry, I didn't realize. Do it once more, and I'll run with you."
The girl gaped at him in shock, staring blankly.
"Lady?"
"No need!"
She suddenly shrieked and bolted down the hall.
'No need to chase her, right?'
Maybe he'd overdone the humoring and offended her. Thinking that much, Arsen set off to find the fleeing maid.
He'd already arranged to meet Sir Palato at the training grounds, so at least he needed to know where those were.
* * *
"Lady Eloise really is a mage."
"Pardon?"
In the end, Arsen had to wander alone to find the training grounds. To explain his tardiness to the grilling Palato, he recounted the earlier incident.
And Palato's response was this.
No way that brat was a real mage.
Arsen felt his fantasies of mages shatter.
"So why does the mage Lady go around tormenting innocent maids?"
"Well, that's complicated. First, what do you think a mage is?"
Answering a question with a question wasn't great rhetoric. Keeping that thought to himself, Arsen recalled his impressions of mages.
Mages.
Beings who built the territories and fortresses that let humanity survive in this world, who created and repaired the mechanical beasts that knights rode.
The Lord's Manor was full of magical items said to be made by ancient mages.
Pipes that produced water, toilets, lights without fire—simple, practical things.
Seeing them in his assigned room had shocked him just yesterday, reminding him of his past-life Earth.
On the flip side, there were negative impressions too.
Everyone knew mages had made the world unlivable outside territories and fortresses. Stories abounded of mages eating children or digging brains from graves at night.
He half-dismissed the latter as bogeyman tales to scare kids.
"Impressive beings, but potentially dangerous."
It was a textbook answer, and Arsen wasn't sure if it'd pass muster. Surprisingly, Palato nodded approvingly, looking pleased.
"If that's your take even after seeing one up close, you're remarkably open-minded."
"Really?"
"Most folks meet a mage once and think they're hellspawn bastards from devils rutting with women."
Arsen was briefly stunned by the barbaric medieval vibe, but caught the nuance that Palato didn't buy it. Suddenly, the knight seemed different.
Partly because he'd judged knightly intellect by the utterly unlearned Sir Lenoc.
"Not everyone buys the exaggerated superstitions, but Lady Eloise does have... issues. She became a mage at such a young age that she can't control her magic properly and has harmed those around her a few times."
"Harmed how?"
"Physical shocks to surroundings, blinding flashes of light, even making people's hair fall out."
"The others sound bad, but that last one's terrifying."
"Agreed."
Palato stroked his hair as he spoke, his forehead looking especially expansive today.
Surely he wasn't a victim.
Arsen shelved the flashing thought and pressed on.
"I still don't get why she pulls those weird pranks."
"Sir Luden—our territory's advisor and mage—says she's lashing out because people fear and avoid her."
"Everyone?"
"Didn't you feel it? Normal people sense an inexplicable dread and repulsion just from a mage's evil mana. Knights or well-trained folk feel it less, but still somewhat."
Recalling the encounter as he ran a hand through his hair, Arsen noted the maid's reaction was exaggerated, but he'd felt no such power himself.
At most, a mischievous tomboy vibe.
"Same for me. I know it's not her fault she can't control it, and most magic can't harm knights anyway... but physiologically, I just feel repulsed. Can't bring myself to be kind to her."
Palato's face matched his usual dour impression—thoroughly gloomy.
"I... felt nothing at all."
Palato eyed him curiously for a moment, then grinned like it was good news.
"Then after morning training, shall we visit Sir Luden? He's an oddball, but knows a ton. Might learn something useful. And if things go well, maybe you could befriend the Lady. Poor kid, after all."
"Understood."
Arsen agreed without hesitation.
Whether he was special and immune to mage mana, or some other reason, gaining knowledge wouldn't hurt.
Especially on magic, where he was a total novice—his curiosity burned.
"Anyway, let's start with stamina training. First up: laps around the training grounds. From that pillar over there, circle the grounds. Full speed until I say stop."
The training grounds were huge—maybe 300 meters per lap.
"I trust you can manage at least three hundred laps."
"Three... hundred?"
Roughly 90 kilometers.
And this was morning training, with the ten o'clock bell just rung—so two hours to finish.
45 km/h average for two hours. Even with mana, per Arsen's experience, full sprints weren't sustainable hourly.
Was this medieval barbarism ignoring overwork, or a veteran knight's refined training method? Unclear.
But really, no choice. As his trainee squire, he had to suck it up.
"You're short on time because you were late. Gotta deal."
Seeing Palato's smiling face, Arsen itched to slap on that 'hellspawn devil bastard' label from earlier.
Damn it, go bald already.
Cursing Palato's hair futilely, Arsen began warm-up stretches.