Chapter 9: Crystallized [1]
Friendships, in the end, were superficial relationships at best.
Once people went their separate ways, distance would gradually erode even the strongest bonds, leaving only memories that would grow faint with each passing year.
People liked to believe they would stay in touch forever, but reality had a habit of proving otherwise.
In the end, those people would leave him. And when that day inevitably came, he would once again find himself alone, just as he always had been.
"...."
Ilya gazed down at the river flowing under the stone bridge, a cigarette between his fingers.
The current never stopped, endlessly carrying everything away without once looking back, and for some reason, it always felt as though the river itself was staring back at him.
This world was no different. It was an abyss that slowly dragged him deeper and deeper until every direction he turned resembled the same frozen hell.
Perhaps... the greatest revenge was to leave first.
To disappear so completely that those who remained would spend the rest of their lives wondering whether they could have done something differently.
Perhaps that regret would become the only proof that he had ever mattered to anyone at all.
"....."
But would they?
Would anyone actually regret it?
Would anyone mourn him?
That question, more than death itself, was what truly terrified Ilya.
"Breaking our promise already?" a familiar voice called out behind him. "Should I kill you right now instead?"
Ilya slowly turned around.
Walking toward him with her hands in the pockets of her coat was Vera. She stopped a few steps away, scrutinizing him for a moment before glancing toward the river below.
From where she had approached, it wasn’t difficult to understand why she had reached the conclusion she did.
"I believe I made myself perfectly clear," Vera said. "I told you that if your Domain ever consumed you, I would be the one to end your life. I don’t recall giving you permission to die on your own."
"...."
Vera’s expression remained as indifferent as ever.
"So if your plan is to throw yourself into the river," she continued, "don’t bother. If you truly intend to jump, then step aside."
"...Why?"
"Because I’d rather be the one to push you."
"Hahaha..." Ilya couldn’t help but laugh. "You know, you’re remarkably consistent, Senior."
Vera looked at him with the same impassive expression she always wore.
"Would you prefer I weren’t?" she asked. "If that’s what you want, I can always play a different role for you."
Ilya quietly looked at her.
This woman, who appeared and disappeared as she pleased, who came and went like the wind without ever seeming tied down by anyone or anything, lived with a kind of freedom he found almost incomprehensible.
She lived according to no one’s expectations, spoke exactly as she pleased, and seemed utterly detached from the opinions of the world.
If Ilya claimed he wasn’t envious, he would be lying.
Strangely enough, he had never once envied Siegfried, the Crown Prince, despite the latter possessing everything a person could ever desire.
Yet standing before Vera, he found himself feeling something he had never felt toward royalty.
"...."
The way she lived, so unconcerned with appearances, obligations, or invisible chains, was so refreshingly free that he found himself wondering what it might feel like to live that way too.
"Nah, it’s fine," Ilya said with a smile. "I’d rather you stay exactly as you are, Senior."
"Very well."
Vera calmly walked over until she was standing beside him at the riverside. She reached into the pocket of her coat, intending to take out her own cigarettes, but paused the moment her eyes fell upon the pack already in Ilya’s hand.
"Oh?" A hint of amusement appeared on her face. "You finally developed some decent taste."
Without another word, she tucked her own cigarette case back into her pocket before casually taking one from the pack Ilya was already holding out toward her.
It was the exact same brand she preferred. Ilya had intentionally chosen it after noticing the cartons stacked in her apartment during his visit the previous night.
Vera accepted it without another comment, lit the cigarette, and took a slow drag.
"I’ll consider this progress," she said. "At least your taste in cigarettes is improving faster than your magic."
"Ah, speaking of progress, I managed to do it. Magic."
Vera’s interest was immediately piqued.
"Show me."
Ilya extended a hand, recalled the image in his head, and produced a simple snowflake of ice. It wasn’t an impressive spell by any means, but it was undoubtedly magic.
A faint smile appeared on Vera’s lips before she reached over and lightly patted Ilya on the head.
"Just as I told you," she said. "You’re a natural-born talent for becoming a wizard. Now, look closely at your spell."
Ilya did as instructed.
At first, he saw nothing unusual. Then, as he examined it more carefully, he finally noticed what Vera had been referring to.
"...There’s no mana."
"Indeed," Vera replied. "Someone who has never received a proper magical education shouldn’t be capable of casting even the simplest spell. By all accounts, what you just did should have been impossible."
"Then this is..."
"A manifestation of your Domain."
Vera looked at the tiny snowflake slowly dissolving into the river.
"What you just did is merely a slight manipulation of your Domain. It’s still faint and incredibly weak, but it was enough to project a fragment of your inner realm into reality."
It wasn’t quite a spell. Rather than constructing one through mana, Ilya had overlapped his Domain with the real world if only for a moment.
The snowflake wasn’t created through conventional spellcasting but through the manifestation of the realm, his Domain, that existed within him.
The two remained by the riverside for a while longer, idly talking as they smoked.
Once the conversation naturally drifted away from magic, Ilya recalled another matter that had been weighing on his mind.
"By the way, Senior, do you happen to know anywhere that rents rooms cheaply? I recently got into a bit of an argument with my sister, so... I don’t think I’ll be going home for a while."
"Huh. No wonder Anastasiya looked so gloomy throughout class today. Seems you really managed to break her heart."
"My sister?" Ilya immediately shook his head. "No. That’s ridiculous."
He took another drag from his cigarette before looking back at her.
"But anyway, do you know anywhere?"
Vera scrutinized him for a few seconds before the corners of her lips curved upward.
"You’re awfully roundabout about this, Ilya."
"...Hm?"
"You want to stay at my place, don’t you?"
"...I never said that."
"How cunning. Now what am I supposed to do with you?"
"...."
* * *
Another night passed at Vera’s apartment.
Although she had been the one to offer him a place to stay, Ilya gradually found himself wondering whether he was becoming an inconvenience.
The thought crossed his mind more than once, yet he ultimately kept it to himself. If Vera considered him a burden, she would have said so already.
That evening, the two once again shared dinner together.
Ilya insisted on paying for the meal. When she asked whether he simply didn’t trust her cooking, he answered with complete sincerity that he didn’t want to impose on her by making her cook after already letting him stay the night.
It definitely wasn’t because Vera was an astonishingly terrible cook.
"Anyway," Vera said after the meal, "you’re lucky. I actually have some free time tonight."
"Really?"
"Mhm."
She stood up and beckoned him over.
"Come here."
Without offering any further explanation, Vera led him by the hand before pushing open the bathroom door.
"...?"
The moment Ilya stepped through the doorway, the scenery changed completely.
Instead of a cramped apartment bathroom, an endless grassy plain stretched out before him under the moonlight.
The sudden transition barely startled him. He had witnessed similar spatial magic before within the academy, so it wasn’t difficult to conclude that they had been transported elsewhere.
Vera casually walked over to a nearby boulder before sitting on it as though they had merely entered a different room.
"Go on," she said, motioning toward him. "Unsheathe your sword."
"Got it."
When Ilya had come to Vera’s apartment, the only personal belonging he had brought with him was his sword.
He withdrew the blade from its scabbard before settling into a stance, awaiting her next instruction.
"Iron Reinforcement. Now."
At her instruction, Ilya circulated his mana through his body, executing the Iron Reinforcement technique exactly as he had been taught since childhood.
The veins along his forearms gradually surfaced. His muscles constricted, and the familiar sensation of physical enhancement spread throughout his body as he pushed the technique to the greatest extent he currently could.
"Now. Remember everything you know about the sword."
"Yes."
"And forget everything about it."
"...?"
Before Ilya had the chance to question her meaning, something suddenly shot toward him from the side.
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