Chapter 5: Human Nature [2]
After making a quick stop to pick up takeout, the two eventually arrived at Vera’s home.
The trip itself was uneventful, with Vera leading the way through several streets away from the academy until they reached one of the residential districts where many of the academy’s staff and ordinary citizens lived.
Compared to the lavish mansions owned by the Empire’s nobility, the neighborhood was modest, but it was clean and well-maintained.
Vera unlocked the door and stepped inside before casually slipping off her heels.
"Come in," she said, placing the bag of takeout onto the dining table. "It’s small, so try not to judge me too harshly, Young Master."
Her home turned out to be a twelve-pyeong studio apartment, the sort of place an ordinary middle-class citizen could realistically afford.
It consisted of a single open room with a compact kitchen along one wall, a modest dining table, a bed around the corner, and a bookshelf packed so tightly with what seemed to be magical textbooks.
There was nothing luxurious about the space, yet everything was meticulously organized, which left almost no trace of unnecessary clutter.
As Ilya took a seat at the small dining table, Vera finished setting the takeout containers down before glancing at him with an amused expression.
"You really let yourself be lured here that easily, huh?" she asked. "Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to follow strangers home?"
"You’re a respectable adult, though?"
"Hahaha. I wonder."
Before he could react, Vera stepped behind his chair.
She gently hooked two fingers beneath his chin and lifted his face upward until he was looking directly at her.
Then, she lightly pinched both of his cheeks with her free hand as she leaned in just enough for him to see the playful glint in her crimson eyes.
"Let’s say," she began, "I decided to have my way with you. Suppose I ended up carrying your child. Do you have any idea what that would do to your prospects?"
"...."
"You’d lose most of your value in the marriage market. These days, very few respectable ducal houses would be willing to negotiate with a noble heir who had already fathered a child with a commoner."
"That’s certainly an... interesting hypothetical," Ilya responded. "However, I think you’ve overlooked one rather important detail."
"Oh?"
"I’m still a minor, Professor Vera. If that hypothetical ever came to pass, I imagine your position would become far more precarious than mine. You’re an adult, and the one who invited a student into your home, so regardless of the truth, I doubt public opinion would be particularly sympathetic toward you."
Vera stared at him for several seconds before slowly withdrawing her hand from his chin.
"That’s true."
"Mhm."
Without another word, Vera carried the takeout containers over to the dining table and began unpacking them one by one, arranging the plates, utensils, and food.
Once everything had been set out, she pulled out the chair across from Ilya and sat down, resting her chin against one hand as she looked at him.
"Well then. Since you’ve already paid for dinner, it would be a shame to let it get cold."
"It’s not much," Ilya replied. "Please, help yourself."
Vera paused midway through reaching for one of the containers before looking up at him with a puzzled expression.
"What are you doing?" she asked. "Eat with me."
"Ah... right."
Only then did Ilya realize he had unconsciously hesitated.
Ever since moving into the Belozersky residence in the capital three months ago, he had never once shared a meal with another person.
By mutual agreement, he and Anastasiya ate separately, and on the rare occasions their schedules overlapped, he wasn’t even permitted to sit across from her at the same table.
Shaking the thought from his mind, Ilya quietly picked up his utensils.
"My apologies, professor."
Vera looked up from her meal and immediately shook her head.
"And it’s not Professor," she corrected. "It’s Senior. I’m only a graduate teaching assistant, not a professor."
"Understood, senior."
* * *
"Who’s the one taking advantage of whom?"
Left alone in the living area, he casually looked around the apartment while waiting.
The place was quiet, save for the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, and with little else to do, his attention wandered across the organized bookshelves and the stacks of papers scattered across Vera’s desk.
Judging from the handwritten notes and lesson plans, it seemed she had every intention of continuing her work after dinner.
A few minutes later, the sound of the shower ceased.
The bathroom door opened, and Vera stepped out with a towel draped around her shoulders, casually drying her damp black hair.
Having changed out of her academy attire, she now wore nothing more than a loose gray tank top, a pair of comfortable cotton shorts, and simple house slippers.
"You’re very defenseless, Senior."
"Am I?"
"Let’s reverse your earlier hypothetical for a moment. What if I were the one who decided to take advantage of the situation? You’re underestimating how reckless someone my age can be."
Vera stared at him for several seconds before letting out a laugh.
"Then feel free to try—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Ilya closed the distance between them in a single step.
Slam——!
His palm landed against the wall beside her shoulder with a dull thud, cutting off the rest of her words as he leaned in just enough to occupy her space without actually touching her.
The sudden movement was so quick that even Vera hadn’t anticipated it.
"You really must think I’m a very easy person, Senior."
For the briefest moment, surprise flashed across Vera’s face before disappearing just as quickly.
Her expression settled back into its usual calm as she looked up at him, finally taking the opportunity to properly observe him at such close proximity.
Until now, she had subconsciously grouped him together with the academy’s other students, but standing this close made the differences impossible to ignore.
Ilya was considerably bigger than his age would suggest.
Even if he lacked talent with the sword, he had still been born and raised in the Northern Duchy, a land where frailty was simply another word for death.
Winters there were merciless, and every noble household trained its children under the assumption that one day they would have to survive them.
Years of relentless training had naturally carved that discipline into Ilya’s body.
His build wasn’t that of a seasoned knight, but neither was it the slender physique commonly associated with academy students.
Broad shoulders, calloused hands, and a frame that showcased years of swinging a sword left little room to mistake him for someone physically weak.
Even if his technique failed him, his upbringing had ensured that strength itself never did.
But...
Bang——!
A simple spell from Vera was enough to send him sliding backward.
The impact wasn’t particularly painful, yet it had enough force to effortlessly break his balance, leaving him staring at Vera with widened eyes.
"Excellent physical strength," Vera remarked. "But your Iron Reinforcement is weak."
Iron Reinforcement was the most fundamental technique taught to every aspiring knight.
Rather than serving as an offensive art, it revolved around circulating mana throughout the body to strengthen muscles, bones, tendons, and even the internal organs, allowing a knight to withstand greater impacts while dramatically enhancing their physical capabilities.
It was considered so basic that instructors rarely explained it beyond the introductory years, instead expecting students to improve through constant practice.
Unfortunately, that was another area where Ilya fell short.
"You have the physique expected of someone raised in the North, but your reinforcement is inefficient. Your body is doing most of the work, while your mana struggles to keep up."
"...."
"Against ordinary students, that might not be obvious, but the moment you stand before someone with proper control, the difference becomes painfully apparent."
Vera lightly tapped Ilya’s chest with a finger.
"You’re relying on your body to carry your mana."
She then tapped the center of her own chest.
"A proper knight does the opposite. Their mana carries their body."
Ilya lowered his gaze, reflecting on everything she had told him so far.
"...And yet you told me I had talent for magic," he said. "From everything you’ve explained, though, it seems my mana is what’s holding me back."
"I don’t recall saying that, though?" Vera tilted her head. "I said you were a natural-born talent for becoming a wizard. I never said you were talented at magic."
Ilya frowned. "...Aren’t those the same thing?"
"Not even close."
Vera pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing one leg over the other as she rested her chin on her hand.
"Magic is merely a tool," she explained. "Anyone with sufficient aptitude can study it, refine it, and eventually become proficient enough to cast spells. Wizards, on the other hand, aren’t defined by how much mana they possess or how many spells they know, but by the existence of a Domain."
She pointed toward him.
"You’ve never received a proper magical education, yet you’ve already manifested a Domain. That alone places you outside conventional understanding. Whether your mana is abundant or pitiful is almost beside the point."
"Then... what exactly is a wizard?"
Vera smiled. "A person whose imagination becomes reality."
"...I’m not following."
"I expected as much." Vera leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Tell me instead, what do you currently know about magic? You’ve been reading books for the past few days, haven’t you? Go on."
Ilya thought for a moment before answering.
"Mana exists everywhere. It permeates the atmosphere, the earth, and every living organism. Humans continuously absorb mana through natural bodily functions such as breathing, eating, drinking, and sleeping, before storing it within their bodies."
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"A wizard’s overall capability is determined by several factors. The first is their mana capacity, or how much mana they can store at any given time. The second is the rate at which they naturally recover spent mana. Finally, there’s efficiency, how little mana they waste when casting spells, allowing two wizards with identical reserves to produce vastly different results."
"Not wrong," Vera replied with an approving nod. "That’s the explanation every first-year student in the Magic Department learns. Unfortunately, it’s also incomplete."
She reached over to her desk, picked up a blank sheet of paper, and laid it on the table between them.
"Imagine this is a Domain."
Next, she picked up a small bottle of ink.
"This is mana."
Finally, she raised a fountain pen.
"And this," she said, twirling it between her fingers, "is the caster."
Ilya silently watched her demonstration.
"A Domain is nothing more than a blank canvas," Vera continued. "Mana is the paint that fills it, while the wizard’s knowledge, imagination, and technical skill determine how that paint is applied. The quality of the painting has very little to do with how much paint you own and everything to do with how you use it."
She set the pen back down before tapping the sheet of paper.
"When a spell is cast, a wizard isn’t creating something from nothing. They’re taking a fragment of the world they’ve painted inside their Domain and projecting it onto reality. In other words, magic is simply the act of allowing your imagination to overwrite the world."
Vera looked up and met Ilya’s eyes.
"That’s why I said a wizard is someone whose imagination has become real."
She paused, allowing the explanation to settle before continuing.
"Most wizards spend years constructing that canvas. But you... You somehow did the impossible. You began with a completed canvas before anyone had even handed you the paint."
Silence filled the apartment.
Ilya lowered his eyes, turning her words over in his mind before arriving at the conclusion he had already expected.
"...I’ve already Fallen, right?"
"You have."
"So I’m going to die soon."
"Most likely within a year. Perhaps even sooner."
There wasn’t a trace of sympathy in her voice.
"That’s why I intend to observe you until the very end. Whether you become the first exception in history or die like every Fallen Wizard before you, your case is too valuable for me to ignore. I want to witness just how much you can resist and see with my own eyes how your story concludes."
Ilya listened in silence.
"But in exchange for my guidance," Vera said. "If the day comes when your Domain finally consumes you, I want the right to kill you myself."
Ilya looked at her for several long moments before responding.
"Very well—no, waiting until that day would be meaningless."
Vera raised an eyebrow at his words.
"As a Fallen Wizard, I don’t even know whether I’ll still wake up tomorrow as myself. If every day, there’s a possibility that I may already be too late, then there’s no reason to postpone the decision."
He met her gaze.
"So, as of this very moment, I’ll offer my life to you."
"A terrible decision. You place far too much faith in the words of an adult you’ve only known for a handful of days. Still... what are you planning to do now? Go home?"
"If there’s nothing else for me to do today," Ilya replied, "then I suppose I might as well."
"Is that so? Then strip."
"...."
Ilya blinked once, thinking he had misheard her.
"...Come again?"
"You reek of tobacco. Strip and go take a bath."
"I can just do that when I get home."
"No. You’re not going home tonight."
"...."
"You’re transferring to the Magic Department, aren’t you? Do you honestly believe you’ll catch up to students who’ve spent their entire childhood studying magical theory by going home and sleeping?"
"...I guess not."
"The semester is already halfway over, so transferring immediately isn’t an option. You’ll have to wait until the term ends, retake the entrance examination, and complete the department transfer procedures before the academy will even consider your application."
She crossed her arms.
"That gives you roughly three months."
"...."
"In three months, I’ll reshape you from the ground up. I’ll use every method available to me until you’ve made up for the years you’ve lost."
"...Okay?"
Something about her words didn’t sound very reassuring at all.
With nothing more to say, Ilya followed Vera’s instructions and made his way toward the bathroom.
The moment he slid the door open, however, an intense chill washed over him.
It was so cold that even someone already accustomed to the frost of his own Domain could immediately tell the difference.
His eyes drifted toward the bathtub. It was completely filled with ice.
"...An ice bath?"
Vera appeared behind him, crossing her arms as she looked past his shoulder.
"You’ll be spending the entire night in it," she said. "From the moment you get in until it’s time to leave for the academy tomorrow morning, you are not to step out."
Ilya looked back at the frozen bath.
"The ice won’t melt," Vera continued. "It’s maintained by magic, and its temperature is lower than anything you’ll naturally encounter in the Northern Duchy. Even so, the cold produced by your Domain once it reaches its full potential should be far harsher than this."
She walked over and placed a hand against one of the solid blocks of ice.
"If your body cannot endure an imitation, then there’s little reason to believe it will withstand the original. Consider this your first lesson. From tonight onward, you’ll become accustomed to the cold before the cold becomes accustomed to you."
"Understood."
Without another word, he began unbuttoning his shirt just as Vera left off with a few simple words.
"Survive until morning."
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