Dark Fantasy Normalized

3 – The Master

“Are you saying I’m Mr. Pamon’s disciple?”

＜All of a sudden?＞

The book spoke for me.

＜What is it, Pamon. Are you serious?＞

“Would I joke about something like this?”

＜That’s why I hope it’s a joke. Lisir would think the same, right?＞

“Probably. So I apologize to Lisir, who must comply.”

Pamon, talking to the book, neither changed his expression nor the atmosphere.

He spoke calmly in his usual lively tone.

Because of that attitude, I was confused about how to take Pamon’s words.

I was curious.

In this world, the meaning of the master-disciple relationship was never light.

I was curious why this extraordinary woman suddenly wanted to take me as her disciple.

“Is it… perhaps because of my constitution?”

I wasn’t originally this kind of b*stard, but now I was bathing in kimchi soup.

Could it be that my constitution, as Pamon mentioned, is more incredible than I thought?

For such an extraordinary person to suddenly spit and touch my cheek?

Are the Vendel guys ready to back off?

“Well. Should I say it’s because of that? Should I say that the story makes sense because of that?”

“The story makes sense…”

“I’ll explain. Rishir has the right to know.”

*

Pamon’s story was shocking.

Long ago, Radola, the ancestor of Vendel, made a deal with Pamon’s master.

Radola gained power from that deal and promised to repay with the most precious treasure Vendel had in the prosperous future.

“…So, that’s me?”

“Yes.”

“…Would you reconsider?”

I admit it.

Me? I’m a cool and s*xy guy for a b*stard.

But the most precious treasure in Vendel?

This? It’s highly controversial.

If you announce this in Vendel right now, there would be a truckload of guys drawing their swords.

Or, is my constitution that unique?

“Do you hate becoming my disciple that much?”

Pamon asked with her still lively face.

Hate it?

It’s not easy for a b*stard like me, who has nothing, to find a master.

Especially an extraordinary master like Pamon.

Normally, I would have bowed down before she changed her mind, giving her time to reflect on whether she made a hasty decision.

But there’s a thing called propriety, you know.

The scale has to be just right.

Vendel Radola.

That man is the founding figure of Vendel. The name engraved on the large statue in the center of the mansion.

Am I the price of the contract that man promised?

The disgrace of the family, but actually the greatest treasure of the family!?

Is the world a joke? Is the world a light novel?

If things go wrong, I can’t even imagine what consequences it will bring.

It’s only natural that I would be ruined, and it might bring great disaster to the Vendel family.

“Whatever, let’s give it a try.”

I particularly liked that part, so I accepted the proposal.

If things go wrong, not only I but also Vendel could be ruined?

Really? This isn’t a dream, right?

This year, I am 18 years old.

I will show the hatred of an illegitimate child that has been festering for 18 years.

If you swing your dick around recklessly and mess around, you should pay the proper price. That’s the way the world should work.

“Of course, of course. No need to worry. My disciple, Lysir. Do you know what your greatest strength is?”

“Considering I’m an illegitimate child, I’m quite smart. And brave.”

“Adorable.”

“…Pardon?”

Master kneaded my cheeks with both hands.

“Lysir, you’re doing well enough. Just keep it up.”

Am I, perhaps, not a disciple but a pet?

A belated sense of unease crept over me at Master’s unconventional interpretation of the master-disciple relationship.

*

“Shall we. Go for a walk?”

Master and I left the library and walked down the street.

Thanks to the cognitive interference magic, people weren’t surprised to see a talking book and a beautiful dark elf.

It seems like quite a convenient magic.

I wonder if I could learn it too?

“Hmm…”

Master had been pondering something deeply for a while, repeatedly letting out a sigh.

Since he was leaning on my arm with his arms crossed, the vibration was transmitted directly.

“This is troublesome… truly troublesome…”

“What is troubling you so much?”

“Lysir, my disciple.”

“Yes, Master.”

“It might be a somewhat disappointing story, but I hope you’ll listen.”

“I’m prepared, Master.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have much expertise in swordsmanship.”

＜Not just lacking expertise, it’s a disaster. If you hand him a sword, you’ll witness the birth of a cursed sword that wields its master.＞

The book spoke of Master’s legendary cursed sword.

Truly fascinating.

So, our Master is terrible at swordsmanship?

“Duran. Are you saying that in front of my disciple? You can’t even hold a sword yourself~”

＜I am a book, after all.＞

The book was so logically coherent that it was almost terrifying.

“Master, you are a wizard, right? But does it matter that you are not deeply versed in swordsmanship?”

“It does matter. I am now a teacher to someone, after all.”

The master lightly tapped the sword hanging at my waist.

It was something I wore, pretending to be a knight.

“As a teacher, I should rightly guide my disciple who walks the path of the sword. It is truly a difficult situation. So, I am contemplating how to integrate my knowledge with swordsmanship.”

“Master, I do not particularly intend to adhere to the path of the sword. If you teach me, I will obediently follow your guidance.”

“…”

Now. For the first time, I saw it.

The lively master looking troubled.

“Master? Is there a problem?”

“Well, you see.”

“Could it be?”

“Flinch.”

“Could it be that the brain muscles, which have lived their whole life without knowing the ‘M’ of magic, cannot picture themselves reaching the realm of intelligence that is magic!?”

“Ah, no. Maybe.”

The master couldn’t meet my eyes.

When I shook off my arm, he fell to the ground and wailed.

“Rishir~”

“Cognitive inhibition magic… It’s powerful. I can no longer hear her voice.”

“My disciple~”

It would be a lie to say I wasn’t disappointed at all, but the disappointment wasn’t great.

A b*stard child of a swordsmanship family is actually a magic genius?

This b*stard is not soft enough to expect such a development.

＜Hey, Rishir.＞

“Yes, Duran.”

＜Do you know how long it takes for ordinary wizards to learn the basics?＞

“I don’t know.”

＜Three years.＞

“What?”

＜It’s a common story. The average time it takes to see mana, feel mana, and handle mana. It takes three years to be ready to learn magic in earnest. That’s the starting line. Of course, depending on the case, it could be two years, one year, six months, or even a month.＞

“How long will it take for me?”

＜It’s the same for swords and magic. Ultimately, the most decisive factors are the environment and bloodline you’re born with.＞

“I may not look like it, but I’m from Vendel.”

＜Yes. That’s the problem. You. You’re from Vendel, aren’t you? The blood flowing in your veins has kept magic at a distance and embraced the sword for hundreds of years.＞

“Look at this cursed lineage.”

＜Listen to you talk.＞

For reference.

Duran began to speak.

＜Parmon. This guy may look like this, but he’s a busy man. He only stopped by Hyern for a brief visit due to a matter of courtesy. Once that’s resolved, he’ll leave immediately.＞

“…A miracle in a week? If I study magic for 20 hours a day from now on, can I pass the academy?”

＜What nonsense is that?＞

While talking to the book, my master, who was lying down, looked at me like a puppy hit on the nose.

“…Master? Is it true? That the time I have left with you is short?”

“I’m sorry, Lishir. In fact, I was only focused on solving the tasks left by my master. I didn’t think much about what comes after.”

“Could it be that our master is a hopeless man who can’t even keep a disciple?”

＜You saw it correctly. He can’t take care of anyone else.＞

“Lishir. I’m sorry. Are you disappointed?”

“Cognitive interference magic… It’s powerful. I can no longer hear her voice.”

“No~”

The book and the dark elf were under cognitive interference magic.

Spectators gathered in the street.

The one-man show of the grief-stricken b*stard continued for a while.

*

The dejected b*stard trudged back to the Vendel mansion.

It’s the annex again.

A life of only going to the library and the mansion’s annex.

Isn’t this the life of a star?

“So, what do you think? For the remaining period, I’ll focus on practical experience rather than theory.”

＜That’s right. At most, it’s about a week, right? Even if you solidify the theory during that time, it won’t be of any use. But why are you telling me this?＞

“My disciple doesn’t listen to me.”

＜Would you want to talk to someone like that?＞

The talking book and the dark elf followed.

Go away.

They said everything was ruined.

It’s a big deal.

Before returning to my room, I stopped by the small training ground in the backyard.

It’s part of my daily routine.

After coming back from the library, I train while exercising.

Since Vendel neither teaches me swordsmanship nor spars with me, this is all I can do.

I was about to draw the sword hanging at my waist and swing it roughly when it happened.

“Wait.”

Pamon shouted urgently.

“Please, Rashir. Let me help you.”

“…Ha. Well. What do you plan to do, Mr. Pamon?”

“Mr. Pamon, huh. Just a moment ago, you called me Master.”

＜That was before I found out you were a hopeless person. Still, it’s nice that you use honorifics. You had a good disciple.＞

“In the past tense~”

Pamon said he would be my sparring partner.

He said he would help me gain real combat experience.

“Didn’t you say earlier? That when you hold a sword, you become like a dogtail swaying in the wind.”

“Oh. Don’t worry about that. It’s not me fighting, it’s this guy.”

Pamon clapped his hands lightly as if commanding a servant.

Then the ground of the training ground split open, and vines rose up.

They formed the shape of a human.

“…Mr. Pamon, is this right? It looks quite gruesome.”

It’s a plant zombie.

Saying it like this makes it sound eco-friendly and nice, but its appearance is no joke.

It looks like a human who died tangled in vines and had their body taken over by mushrooms.

“Oh my. Isn’t it cute?”

“Cute?”

You said I was cute too.

So, does that mean I’m in the same category as that?

I grabbed the sword and took a stance.

I did, but it feels overwhelming.

I’ve swung the sword countless times.

But I’ve never swung it at something moving. Literally.

No one in Vendel ever crossed swords with a b*stard.

Moreover, no one allowed a b*stard to cross swords.

I wasn’t allowed to learn swordsmanship.

If I said I was joining the army, they might have shown me the basics out of courtesy.

“This is my first duel, so please watch with kind eyes.”

“Good luck, Rishir.”

＜How is this your first duel? In Vendel. At your age.＞

“If Mr. Duran were born in Vendel, you’d understand.”

＜I’m a book.＞

“Well.”

Even though it looked quite menacing, it didn’t exude any aura or spirit.

I felt like I could win if I fought.

I entrusted myself to that baseless confidence and took a step forward.

＜Oh, your stance is-＞

Even the book sighed at my pathetic strike that touched the plant zombie.

A weak hitting sound.

The plant zombie burst.