Brother, I’m getting married...

By Sibins’s bald head! This was as shocking as the Mechanical Director growing long hair overnight.

Rorschach’s first reaction was to go over the trio’s ages: Rorschach was the youngest at seventeen, Richard was the oldest, an eighteen-year-old "old man," and the groom-to-be, Bart, was somewhere in between.

In his past life, forget eighteen—Rorschach and his peers were still innocent schoolboys well into their twenties, with no thoughts of marriage whatsoever.

Plenty of Mages never married; in fact, that was the norm. The lineage of many a Great Mage could be traced back to illegitimate children they’d had with lovers or personal maids. Female Mages had lovers too, of course, but they generally avoided bearing children. As for how they managed that, Rorschach had no idea.

’Maybe there’s some kind of special Magic?’

But Bart’s ambition wasn’t to become an unrivaled master on the path of Magic, so this was likely a politically motivated marriage. Having made his assessment, Rorschach read on as Bart recounted the sappy, cliché story of how he met, got to know, and fell in love with his "girl of destiny."

"The moment I first saw her in the rear garden of His Majesty’s palace, I knew. I had to marry this elf bathed in moonlight and dedicate my life to her... You may laugh at my impulsiveness, but go right ahead! When you’re struck by the one destined for you, you’ll be just like me!..."

Wait a minute. ’The rear garden of His Majesty’s palace.’ Rorschach seized on the key phrase and read on. Sure enough, this "elf in the moonlight" had another, not-so-insignificant identity: the youngest daughter of His Majesty the King of the Bayern Kingdom, the Third Princess, who was only fifteen.

Hiss... Even though early marriage and childbirth were common on the continent, especially in the Empire, it didn’t stop Rorschach from cursing his old classmate from afar. ’That animal!’

The engagement ceremony had taken place in the winter, right when Rorschach was fighting for his life in the Black Forest. The letter didn’t explain how a minor Town Mage from a merchant family in Wertzburg had managed to snag a prize from the Royal Family. Rorschach simply didn’t believe that the Great Nobility of this age would go in for something as frivolous as marrying for love.

Anyway... He sighed, setting down the scented letter. Bart had also mentioned that he would personally oversee the partnership between the merchant guild and the "Hercules" beverage factory. The site could be in Wertzburg or another riverside city in Bayern, and all the minor details would be left entirely to his partner, Hasse... Finally, he invited Rorschach to travel to Bayern in May for the wedding.

According to the folk traditions of the Empire, particularly in the south, May was the season of "new life and fertility." May 1st was practically this world’s "Valentine’s Day," and the queues for weddings would be incredibly long. It seemed Bart and his future in-laws were following tradition.

’This works out well. I can scout out a location for a Magic Tower.’ Rorschach didn’t know much about Bayern, having only ever been to the Imperial Capital and the outskirts of the Black Forest. He decided to use this opportunity to do some proper research.

What an exhausting day... From a stressful experiment class to an even more stressful inquiry, followed by his fruitless research, and now topped off with this bombshell of a letter. Utterly drained in body and mind, Rorschach finally washed up and crawled into bed.

’I wonder if Rick got an invitation, and what his reaction will be.’

...

Richard, the one on Rorschach’s mind, was still awake.

On a vast coastline, several heads suddenly broke the surface of the churning waves.

"Move, move, move! Last one out does extra drills for me!" The instructor was already on shore, timing the squad of trainees with his Pocket Watch.

The seawater enveloped the young man, relentlessly stripping away his body heat and stamina. His golden hair was plastered to his chiseled face. Though his demeanor had changed, he was still the same silent Richard.

He was already a qualified elite. He was the first to reach the shore, emerging from among the reefs. During the swimming drill, he hadn’t overtly used Magic, but he had mastered the technique of circulating Endogenous Ether through his body to stimulate his muscles and blood flow.

Other Professionals who possessed Endogenous Ether but lacked the amount needed for Casting—like Samurai or Rangers—used this technique to unleash brief bursts of superhuman strength or speed. But Richard was a Mage, and he used the struggle against the sea to continuously stimulate his own body. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

"Sir, Richard requests permission to be dismissed."

"It’s 22:31. Go." The instructor knew why Richard was leaving and curtly dismissed the man who’d finished first.

"Master." Late at night, lights still burned within the military fortress. Richard arrived at his master’s office. The room had no windows. A Magic Lamp illuminated an old man hunched over a desk, a massive bookshelf looming behind him. To one side stood a human skeleton and a writing board.

There were specimens, too; various human organs and tissues filled the other shelves lining the walls. He was no traditional, stereotypical Necromancer. The Magic he’d mastered was rich and diverse, spanning Shaping Power, Curses, and the Transformation System... Regardless of their scale, the spells he researched and developed generally shared a single purpose: the annihilation of his enemies. They were all a form of Magic that belonged to Killing Techniques.

The newest addition was a model, its main feature a sphere of some unknown material. This was an exception. The technology it represented wouldn’t kill anyone directly, but it was a sufficient threat to Extraordinary Power.

When Richard entered, the Chief Mage didn’t look up, his hand still busy with his writing. "Is today’s training finished?"

"Yes, sir." Richard had changed into a fresh uniform. His posture was now ramrod straight, his bearing sharp and decisive.

"You have two letters. Per regulations, we’ve already screened them. I trust you understand." The Chief Mage’s words were merely a statement of fact. Simultaneously, two letters floated into the air and settled gently into Richard’s hands.

Normal mail couldn’t reach this fortress. Bart had mailed his letter to Richard’s family estate, and it had been forwarded here along with a letter from Richard’s father. That it could be delivered at all was a privilege of his family’s status, but no one was exempt from the inspection. Perhaps the Chief Mage’s delivery method was an exception, but that was a privilege reserved for him alone.

Before his student could respond, the Chief Mage spoke in his aged voice, "Your father wishes for you to attend the royal hunt next month. And your classmate, a Town Mage named Bart, is getting married in May."

The last sentence took Richard by surprise. He opened Bart’s letter; it was identical to the one Rorschach had received, though the perfume scent had long since faded.

"Are you accepting your father’s invitation?"

"No, I’d rather stay and continue my studies with you, Master..." Richard’s plan was to decline the tiresome hunt, hoping instead to see his friend in May. By conceding one point, he hoped to gain approval for the other.

"Fine. Then you won’t be attending that wedding, either." The Chief Mage’s tone was final. "A Town Mage, appointed by His Majesty the Emperor and the council, dares to form a marriage alliance with the royalty of Bayern. A reckless fool. I hear he’s from the south, too. You are to have no further contact with that idiotic provincial faction."

Richard’s mouth opened, but no words came out. After a long moment, he finally said, "...I’ll write back and decline."

"Did you not understand me?" the Chief Mage’s voice turned sharp. "No further contact! What is there to write back about?" Before he had even finished speaking, Bart’s flamboyant letter erupted in a blazing Fire. Richard seemed to feel no pain, letting it and his father’s letter burn away completely.

Richard stared blankly at his own hands. His palms were completely unscathed. In the center of one lay a small pile of ash.

The old mage seemed to sense Richard’s state and offered a word of encouragement. "Train and study diligently. At this rate, I expect you’ll be promoted to a Middle Level Mage within two years."

"...Yes, sir."