Dark Fantasy Normalized
Select the paragraph where you stopped reading
Chapter 4 Table of contents

“You’re saying I’m your disciple now, Pamun?”

Out of nowhere?

"Out of nowhere?"  

I found myself agreeing with the insane talking book.

“What’s this, Pamun? Are you serious?”  
“Do you think I’d joke about something like this?”  
“I was hoping it was a joke, honestly. I bet Lisir feels the same way.”  
“Probably. I do feel a little bad for Lisir, since he has no choice but to accept.”

Pamun, who was still chatting with the book, didn’t seem to change her tone or expression. She spoke with the same lively energy, and that casualness made it hard for me to know how to take her words.

I was curious, though.

In this world, the relationship between master and disciple wasn’t something to be taken lightly. Why would this extraordinary woman suddenly decide to take me as her disciple?

“Is this because of my constitution?”

I wasn’t always just a bastard, but right now, it seemed like I was jumping to conclusions too fast.

Was the “constitution” Pamun mentioned really something that amazing? Was it so unique that someone like her would suddenly want to take me under her wing?

Was I about to get back at those Vendel jerks?

“Well, you could say it’s because of that. Or you could say it’s the reason everything is falling into place.”

“Everything’s falling into place…?”

“I’ll explain. You have the right to know, Lisir.”

Pamun’s story was shocking.

Long ago, Radola, the ancestor of the Vendel family, made a deal with Pamun’s master. Radola gained power from that deal, and in exchange, he promised to repay them with the most precious treasure the Vendel family would have in the future.

“…So, you’re saying I’m that treasure?”  
“Yup.”  
“…You might want to rethink that.”

I admit it.  
Me? I’ve got plenty of self-esteem.  
Me? I’m cool and sexy, especially for a bastard.

But the Vendel family’s most valuable treasure?  
That’s definitely up for debate.

If this was publicly announced to the Vendel family, I bet there’d be a whole truckload of people pulling out their swords immediately.

Or… maybe my constitution really is that special?

“Do you dislike the idea of being my disciple?”

Pamun asked with the same cheerful expression.

It’s not that I dislike it.

For someone like me, a bastard with nothing, finding a master is no easy feat.

And finding someone as extraordinary as Pamun? Even harder.

Normally, I’d have immediately thrown myself at her feet, begging to be her disciple before she could change her mind and reconsider.

But, you know… there’s a certain line of logic we need to follow here.

Radola Vendel. He’s the founding figure of the Vendel family, the name engraved on that giant statue in the center of the mansion.

And now you’re telling me I’m the reward promised in that ancient deal?

The disgrace of the family, somehow the greatest treasure of the family?  
Is this world a joke? Is this some kind of light novel?

If this goes wrong, I can’t even begin to imagine the consequences.

It wouldn’t just be me who’d suffer. The Vendel family could face disaster too.

“Screw it, let’s do it.”

That part was especially appealing to me, so I accepted the offer.

Could I really destroy not only myself but also the entire Vendel family?  
For real? This isn’t a dream, right?

This year, I’m 18 years old.  
It’s time to show the world the grudge that an 18-year-old bastard has been holding onto.

If someone swings their “sword” recklessly, they should pay the price for it. That’s how the world works.

A shared fate—if I’m screwed, we’re all screwed. Isn’t that the true essence of family?  
For the first time, the Vendel family feels close to me. So this is what family warmth feels like.

“Really?!”

Pamun clapped her hands excitedly.

“Oh my, I’m so happy! I’m glad this didn’t turn into a situation where I had to drag you into it by force.”

Was it just my imagination?

It sounded like something quite unsettling had just come out of my new master’s mouth.

“…So, does that mean my opinion didn’t matter much in this?”  
“Of course not~ I’m overjoyed that you’ve chosen to become my disciple willingly, without any coercion.”  
“Master, I have to admit, I’m a little worried. What if I don’t live up to your expectations?”

I mean, look at her.  
She’s clearly not an ordinary person.  
And she’s a mage.

Even though I’ve picked up some sword skills by watching others, I know next to nothing about magic. Can I really live up to someone like her?

“Of course you can. Do you know what your greatest strength is, my dear disciple Lisir?”  
“I guess I’m a bit clever for a bastard, and I’m pretty tough.”  
“You’re cute.”  
“…Excuse me?”

Pamun pinched my cheeks with both hands.

“Lisir, you’re doing great just the way you are. Keep it up.”

Am I really her disciple, or… a pet?  
I couldn’t shake off the late realization that Pamun’s interpretation of the master-disciple relationship was far from traditional.

---

“Shall we go for a walk?”

Master and I left the library and walked through the streets. Thanks to her cognitive-reduction magic, no one was surprised to see a talking book and a beautiful dark elf.

Now that I think about it, Master… when did you cast that cognitive-reduction spell? Was it from the moment you entered Hayerren’s gates?

Did she just waltz into the city unnoticed, past the elite guards?

Excuse me, but what exactly are you?

I was curious about my master’s true identity, but I decided it was better for my mental health not to dwell on it.

“Hmm…”

My master had been sighing thoughtfully for a while now. She was resting her arm on mine as we walked, so the vibrations of her pondering were palpable.

“This is tricky… quite tricky…”  
“What’s troubling you, Master?”  
“Lisir, my dear disciple.”  
“Yes, Master?”  
“This might be a bit disappointing to hear, but I’d like you to listen.”  
“I’m ready for anything, Master.”  
“Unfortunately, I’m not very skilled with the sword.”

“…Not skilled? As in, you’d create a cursed sword that controls its wielder the moment you touch it?”

The talking book, Duran, chimed in with an amusing tale about Master’s legendary cursed swords. So, basically, she’s terrible with a sword?

“Duran, don’t tease me in front of my disciple! Besides, you can’t wield a sword either~”  
“I’m a book.”

Well, I have to give the book credit for being scarily logical.

Which is worse? Competing against water in a swimming match or debating logic with a book?

I stepped in quickly to save Master from further embarrassment.

“Master, you’re a mage, aren’t you? Does it really matter that you’re not skilled with a sword?”  
“It matters. Now that I’m a master, I should be able to teach my disciple who walks the path of the sword. But it’s a real dilemma. That’s why I’ve been pondering how to combine my knowledge with swordsmanship.”

“Master, I’m not set on being a swordsman. If you guide me, I’ll follow your teachings wholeheartedly.”

“…”

For the first time, I saw my energetic, cheerful master looking troubled.

“Master? Is there something wrong?”  
“Well…”  
“No way…”  
“Huh?”  
“Is it because you can’t picture a musclehead like me grasping the intellectual realm of magic?”  
“No, no, that’s not it at all.”

Master averted her gaze, clearly uncomfortable.  
When I shook her off, she fell to the ground and cried out in despair.

“Lisir~”  
“This cognitive-reduction spell… it’s strong. I can’t even hear her voice anymore.”  
“My dear disciple~”

If I said I wasn’t a little disappointed, I’d be lying. But it wasn’t a huge disappointment.

The idea of a bastard from a sword-wielding family suddenly being a magic prodigy?  
That kind of plot twist doesn’t suit this bastard’s life.

---

“Hey, Lisir.”  
“Yes, Duran?”  
“Do you know how long it takes most people to learn the basics of magic?”  
“Not sure.”  
“Three years.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“For the average person, it takes three years to see, feel, and control mana. Only after that are they ready to start seriously learning magic. That’s the starting line. Of course, it could take two years, one year, six months, or even a month, depending on the person.”  
“How long will it take me?”  
“Whether it’s swordsmanship or magic, the most important factors are your environment and lineage.”  
“For what it’s worth, I’m from the Vendel family.”  
“Exactly. That’s the problem. You’re a Vendel. The blood in your veins has distanced itself from magic for hundreds of years, favoring the sword.”  
“Well, that’s a cursed birthright.”

Just as Duran finished speaking, Pamun chimed in.

“You know, Lisir’s a busy guy. He only came to Hayerren for some business and was planning to leave soon after.”  
“…So there’s no way

 I could become a magic prodigy in a week, huh?”  
“Who’s spouting nonsense now?”

Even as I was talking to the book, Master looked at me with eyes full of disappointment, like a puppy who just got scolded.

“…Master? Is it true? Are we really short on time together?”

“I’m sorry, Lisir~ I’ve been so focused on solving the task my master left behind, I didn’t really think about what would come after that~”  
“So, my master isn’t someone who was meant to take on disciples?”  
“You’ve nailed it. She’s not cut out for it.”  
“Lisir~ I’m sorry~ Are you disappointed?”  
“This cognitive-reduction spell… it’s strong. I can’t even hear her voice anymore.”  
“Noooo~”

As we walked through the streets, the cognitive-reduction magic kept people from noticing the spectacle of a sad bastard talking to a dark elf and a talking book.

My one-man tragedy went on for quite some time.

---

Dejected, I returned to the Vendel estate, once again heading for the annex.

A life spent only visiting the annex in the library and the estate.  
This really is the life of a star, isn’t it?

“So, how about this? In the time we have left, I’ll focus on practical experience instead of theory.”

“That makes sense. We only have about a week, so even if we crammed theory, it wouldn’t amount to much. But why are you telling me this?”

“My disciple doesn’t listen to me~”  
“Would you want to listen to yourself?”

Both the talking book and the dark elf followed me.

Why?  
Don’t you have other important things to do?  
Isn’t this a big deal?

Before heading to my room, I stopped by the small training yard in the backyard. It was part of my usual routine.

Whenever I returned from the library, I would practice to combine exercise with training.

The Vendel family never taught me swordsmanship, so this was all I could do.

As I was about to draw my sword and swing it lazily—

“Wait!”

Pamun called out urgently.

“Please, Lisir~ Let me help you~”  
“…Sigh. What exactly do you want to do, Pamun?”

“You’re calling me Pamun now? Just a moment ago, I was Master~”  
“That was before I realized you weren’t cut out to be one. Be thankful I still use honorifics at all.”  
“Oh no, you’re speaking in the past tense already~”

Pamun offered to be my sparring partner, saying she would help me gain practical experience.

“But didn’t you say earlier that if you picked up a sword, you’d end up like a windswept weed?”  
“Oh, don’t worry about that. It won’t be me fighting.”

Pamun clapped her hands softly, as if commanding a servant. The ground of the training yard split open, and vines shot up from the earth.

They formed the shape of a human.

“…Pamun, are you sure about this? That thing looks pretty grotesque.”  

A plant zombie.

When I say it like that, it sounds environmentally friendly, but the appearance is anything but. It looked like a human who had died tangled in vines and had its body taken over by mushrooms or something.

“Isn’t it cute?”  
“…”

Cute?

You called me cute too.  
Does that mean I’m in the same category as *that*?

I grabbed my sword and got into position.

I had swung the sword countless times.  
But I’d never swung it against something that moved. Literally.

No one in the Vendel family ever crossed swords with a bastard.  
No one ever allowed it.

I was never permitted to learn swordsmanship.  
Maybe if I had joined the military, they would’ve at least taught me the basics.

“This is my first time sparring, so please be kind.”

“Good luck, Lisir~”

“How can this be your first time? You’re from Vendel, and at your age…”  
“You’d understand if you were born a bastard in Vendel.”  
“I’m a book.”

“Oh, right.”

Even though the plant zombie looked quite grotesque, it didn’t give off any intimidating aura or presence.

I felt like I could win.

Relying on that baseless confidence, I took a step forward.

“Oh no, your stance—”

The book groaned as my pathetic strike hit the plant zombie.

A weak thud.  
The plant zombie exploded.

“?”  
“?”  
“?”  

Write comment...
Settings
Themes
Font Size
18
Line Height
1.3
Indent between paragraphs
19
Chapters
Loading...