Clearing her throat, Heynya, who had momentarily lost her composure from the impact of the duel, regained her calm.

Returning to her usual, sharp demeanor, she addressed Rishir.

"I'll admit it, Rishir. It seems you were born with a special talent. Perhaps as much as me."

"..."

"Fine! Maybe you're even, slightly, a bit more special! But you know what? You have zero sense of humor."

When she had just lost the duel, Heynya had expected Rishir to scornfully look down on her. After all, she would have.

But Rishir didn’t. He approached her with a respectful handshake, showing genuine respect.

Unconsciously, she found herself captivated by his gesture. For a brief moment, she even considered accepting him as a rival.

But it turned out, it wasn't an honorable handshake from a fellow mage, but a demand from a shameless loan shark.

"Did you really have to make such a terrible joke right now? Honestly, I was just about to be really impressed by you."

Heynya, feeling as if her admiration had been stomped on, crossed her arms and scoffed.

"It's no joke."

"Now? Seriously? So, after rethinking, you don’t want to take it back? You’re telling me that ridiculous comment was sincere?"

"Yes."

"...?"

"Do I look like someone who would joke about such things?"

Rishir spoke with a straight face, his words absurd, yet somehow carrying weight precisely because of his earnest expression.

Heynya, who had been confidently crossing her arms, found herself shrinking under Rishir’s clear gaze.

"What kind of nonsense is this!? You think it’s reasonable to demand everything I own just because you won a single duel!?"

"Didn’t we agree that the winner could ask for anything? I saw endless possibilities in that statement."

"That’s just a figure of speech! Who actually asks for anything they want!"

"It’s the privilege of the winner."

"You—you! I didn’t want to hear that from you!"

"Then, how about we see what you would have asked for if you’d won?"

"At the very least, I wouldn’t have asked for your entire fortune like an idiot!"

"Hold on!"

"...?"

"Could it be that you can only say that because you haven’t been on the winning side?"

This was the very definition of a victor’s privilege. Rishir grinned mischievously, teasing Heynya.

Heynya, too flustered, blushed deeply, unable to form a response beyond a gasp. She was accustomed to being above others, born of noble blood and a prodigious mage, but utterly unprepared for others being above her.

"S-so, what are you saying?"

"What am I saying? I’ve already told you."

"And what if I refuse?"

"That would never happen. You’re too honorable to simply turn your back on a promise as if it were nothing."

"...Ugh..."

It was like quicksand; the more she struggled, the deeper she sank. Heynya tried to wrest control back from Rishir, but when she came to her senses, she realized he was toying with her effortlessly.

Before she knew it, she was anxiously watching his every move.

"...Well, I’m not completely inflexible. Normally, I’d never bend my will, but! I’ll make an exception just this once. For you."

"...What does that mean?"

Heynya, so disoriented, forgot to hide her inner thoughts, waiting on his words almost like an obedient student.

"I’d rather not put someone like you in a difficult position if I can avoid it."

"...And what kind of person am I?"

"Why waste words? You’re a young mage with both charm and talent."

"...Flattery all of a sudden?"

"It’s hardly flattery. If anything, I’m being as restrained as possible."

"..."

Rishir was right. Compared to the praise others around her often showered her with, his words weren’t even in the same league. Yet, strangely, his passing compliment felt more genuine.

"So, what are you really after?"

"Just one thing. I’ll ask you for only one item."

Heynya, normally quick-witted, would have immediately responded with, “Well, that depends on what it is.”

"...Alright?"

But this time, she took his offer without a second thought, even with a hint of eagerness.

"..."

Watching the scene unfold, her teacher Marina was dumbfounded.

Is this ditzy girl really my brilliant disciple?

Unable to take any more, Marina stepped in.

"Rishir, maybe it would be better to continue this conversation later? Heynya’s clearly confused right now."

"No, Master. I appreciate your concern, but this is my own doing. I’ll take care of it."

"...?"

Wait. So this ditzy girl is my clever student? But why is she so different when dealing with Rishir?

Leaving Marina bewildered, Heynya turned back to Rishir.

"So, what is this one item you want?"

"..."

Rishir’s gaze fell toward a corner of the inner courtyard, where the book Heynya had tossed aside lay.

"Oh...!"

Realizing what he meant, Heynya quickly retrieved the book, her expression becoming complicated as she examined it.

"You... do you even know what this is?"

"I don’t know exactly."

"Then why?"

"I felt an odd pull toward it."

Rishir could sense an unusual aura from the book. It wasn’t an evil, dark magic, but neither was it a purely benevolent force.

Instinctively, he felt it was better to keep this book away from Heynya.

"Maybe if I keep it, I’ll get lucky and my magic power might increase."

After a brief hesitation, Heynya spoke.

"This is... a book I discovered deep in my family’s archives. An ancient grimoire."

"Oh."

Of course, it was a special book. Rishir only felt a mild intrigue, but the expressions of the three masters showed shock.

"Heynya, you just said an ancient grimoire—"

"Yes, Master. After some lengthy research of my own, I found that this book deals with lost ancient magic. It’s also written in an extinct language."

The three masters’ expressions turned solemn.

A grimoire with powers so strong that it influences the reader. Such books were inherently dangerous and mysterious objects. And with its contents in a lost ancient language, it was not something an ordinary mage could handle.

Marina cautiously asked.

"Heynya? You said it’s written in a lost language. How did you know it was an ancient grimoire if you couldn’t read it? Do you know anything about that language?"

"No."

"Then how?"

"...Sometimes, it talks to me."

"The book talks to you?"

"A grimoire with a will of its own...! The power and knowledge contained within must be unimaginable!"

The other two masters echoed Meltas’s reaction. Sometimes, grimoires that held power and knowledge beyond ordinary limits could develop a will and consciousness.

In Heynya’s case, this grimoire evidently fit that description.

"Marina, are you sure it’s safe for your student to be carrying such a dangerous object?"

"...Isn’t that something you should be asking yourself?"

"Pardon?"

"After all, it’s your student who’s asking for that grimoire from Heynya."

"...Ahem. My student Rishir—"

"Please, let’s not play games."

"Tsk. Rishir, I don’t think it’s wise to show too much interest in that grimoire."

Marina and Meltas found themselves in rare agreement. They both concluded that the grimoire was beyond what these young mages could safely handle.

"For now—"

It was then that Master Ladros chimed in.

"Perhaps we should consult an expert on the subject of grimoires."

"..."

"..."

An expert.

The mention of that word immediately brought a face to mind for both Marina and Meltas, and they simultaneously grimaced.

Eventually, Ladros, having fulfilled his role as referee, left, leaving them to the decision.

"Heynya?"

"Yes, Master."

"What will you do with that grimoire?"

"..."

Heynya glanced between the grimoire and Rishir before speaking.

"You. You heard the conversation between the masters just now, didn’t you?"

"I did."

"And you still want this grimoire?"

"It seems dangerous. So maybe it’s safer with me than with you—"

"...Are you worried about me?"

"Well, that’s one of the reasons, yes."

Rishir’s tone was light, as if he didn’t think it was a big deal.

Heynya, however, didn’t take it so lightly. With a firm movement, she held out the grimoire to him.

"Fine. If it’s because you’re worried about me, I’ll let you have it."

"...Thank you?"

Rishir accepted the grimoire, still looking a bit bewildered.

Who on earth is this clumsy girl?

Marina sighed, observing her disciple.

"So, what now, Meltas? Now that your student owns that grimoire."

"...Ahem. We have no choice but to go and meet that person."

Meltas looked visibly uncomfortable. Just what kind of person were they about to meet?

Unable to contain his curiosity, Rishir asked about the expert.

"As Master Ladros mentioned, he’s the best expert on grimoires in this city. And also—"

Meltas trailed off, and Marina finished his sentence.

"The biggest bigot in the city."

"A bigot?"

"Best prepare yourself. He’s going to hate you at first sight."

Rishir’s group exited the mage tower and ventured deep into the magical district, eventually reaching a neatly maintained wooden structure with an open yard.

The door was wide open, and as they entered, a rather unfriendly greeting welcomed them.

“Leave.”

A figure with an androgynous appearance, hair neatly pulled back, leaned against a bookshelf. The chilly voice matched the cold look on their face.

And then—

“An elf?”

It was immediately apparent, even from a distance, as the long ears stood out. The elf kept their gaze on the book they were holding, barely acknowledging the group.

“My laboratory only accepts those invited. All others are unwelcome,” the elf stated coolly.

“Gardena. Do you even invite people at all?”

Meltas's voice sounded exasperated, as if he’d dealt with this before.

“Rarely. Ideally, no one would ever step foot in here. Especially if they’re foul-smelling humans.”

Even as Rishir suppressed an urge to retort, Marina stepped in.

“Well, how about making an exception this time? We’ve brought something you might find interesting.”

“...”

Gardena finally lifted their eyes from the book and looked at Rishir and the group.

“Get to the point.”

Following Marina's signal, Rishir held out the grimoire to Gardena.

“It’s a grimoire.”

“I can see that. What kind of grimoire?”

“It’s an ancient grimoire containing lost magic.”

“...”

With a single snap, Gardena closed the book they’d been reading, setting it back on the shelf, and approached Rishir, taking the grimoire from his hands.

The moment the ancient book opened in the elf's grasp—

Elf.

A monotonous voice emerged from the grimoire.

I ask you this. When the coldest flame and the hottest ice meet, what would you do? Answer me, and I shall grant you my knowledge.

"..."

Gardena's expression shifted to one of surprise and discomfort.

The fact that the grimoire spoke.
The unfamiliar script inside.
And lastly, the impossibly complex question.

“The coldest flame and the hottest ice... Since it’s an ancient grimoire, I should probably consider it from an ancient magical perspective.”

After a long pause and much consideration, Gardena hesitantly offered an answer.

That’s a poor answer.

The grimoire’s tone was blunt.

But not the worst. Elf, I’ll grant you a single passage.

As it promised, a section of text transformed into readable characters for Gardena. Heynya offered an explanation.

“Whenever the book opens, it asks a question like that.”

"...What kind of questions has it asked you?"

“They’re mostly like that.”

“What do you get as a reward for answering?”

“Sometimes a single character. At most, a single page.”

“...”

Gardena nodded, about to return the grimoire to Rishir, when—

Hey, friend!

Another voice came from the book, this time cheerful and lively, so much so that it was hard to believe it was the same grimoire.

I’ve got a riddle for you! Think you can solve it?

“A riddle?”

Rishir responded instinctively.

Yes! From afar, how many legs does a horse have?>

“...Five?”

Five!? My goodness, friend! How could you give such an absurd answer to such an easy question? Alright, let’s hear it! Why do you think it’s five?

“...Well, you see, there’s, uh… that thing on the horse… it might look like a fifth leg from a distance…”

Hahahahaha!!! You’re a funny one! Alright, I’ll reward my amusing friend with seven pages!

The elf, who had been watching their exchange, scowled in disbelief.

I gave a serious answer and got only a single passage, yet that ridiculous joke earned seven pages?

──────────

*[Title: Guys, is this the “Asking Tome” everyone talks about?]*  
*Content*: Is this the infamous grimoire that’s caused geniuses to lose their minds?

: Yeah, it’s the one.
: I’m trying to find it too; where did you locate it?
*[Author]**: Contivora  
: It’s on the opposite side of the continent, somehow.
: How did a book with no legs travel all the way from Bondales to there?
: Maybe it flapped its pages like wings?
: Is it some kind of cursed migratory bird?
: That thing’s genuinely out to ruin lives...
: I’ll find and end whoever turned me into this damn book.

*[Author]*: Seriously, it’s already found a new owner and is steadily building up a magical storm again.

: So, it’s not called the “Asking Tome” because it asks questions, but because it “buries” (destroys) people?

──────────

──────────

*[Title: Damn it, Asking Tome, are you serious? LOL]* 
*Content*: I prepared all this stuff to answer its questions, but it hasn’t asked me a single one yet. Ugh!

: What’s your level?
*[Author]*: I’m level 52 right now.
: That’s decent. What’s your highest-ranked magic trait?
*[Author]*: Just normal.
: Then don’t expect anything, just leave. LOL
**[Author]**: Why the heck, man?

: That book really is picky about its owners.
: It doesn’t just “ask” questions—it selects its victims carefully.
: You probably need at least a rare-grade magic trait before it’ll “bite.”
*[Author]*: Rare-grade magic trait? Okay, I’ll check.

: Even if it’s rare, it might only nibble but won’t actually latch on.
: It usually asks a riddle, and if you solve it, it reveals its secrets bit by bit.
   The difficulty of the questions and the rewards depend on your trait grade.

──────────