SMMA 44

Episode 44

For a while, silence lingered from the room next door.

Ihan wondered if he had said something wrong and cautiously asked,
“Did I make some kind of mistake?”

“No, not at all. You only surprised me a little. For a freshman… you’re quite capable.”

“But I was caught.”

If he hadn’t been caught even then, he should be the Headmaster himself… The senior thought bitterly.

Imperial Anti-Magic zealots had appeared—that was no ordinary situation. Professors of great power had certainly gone forth to fight them. For Ihan to participate in that battle and then still expect not to get noticed? That was shameless beyond words.

“What about you, senior? What brought you in here?”

“Don’t call me ‘senior.’ It sounds awkward. Just speak casually. After all, once we graduate, we’re all magicians alike.”

“Alright. So what were you doing that landed you here?”

“……”

The voice hesitated. Suddenly, the man behind the wall found himself very curious about Ihan’s face. What kind of brat is this?

“I failed in one of my experiments.”

“What? You get sent here if an experiment fails??”

Ihan was struck dumb. That sounded too absurd.

But the voice remained calm.
“No need to be shocked. You’ll understand one day.”

The fourth-year began to explain.

He had been conducting magical research requiring rare reagents. Failing to acquire them within the allotted time, he attempted to raid one of the Headmaster’s secret storage rooms to steal what he lacked. But he had been unable to bypass all of the Headmaster’s traps—and thus was caught and thrown in here.

Ihan paused. That sounds less like ‘experiment failed,’ and more like ‘caught stealing’.

But he didn’t point it out. Years in magical academia could warp anyone’s sense of logic. It wasn’t the senior’s fault—it was the academy’s.

“In my view, with ability like yours, many professors will covet you. Be careful in your ‘experiments,’ and don’t fail.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But I don’t think I’ll stay long in this school, anyway.”

“How modest.”

“No, really, I mean to leave—”

“Yes, yes, I understand. So exemplary—ah, perhaps you’re from the Blue Tower? No, that can’t be right.”

“……”

Whatever Ihan said, the man wouldn’t believe him. He gave up. Still, a strange sense of foreboding tugged at him.

“Senior, can I ask something else?”

“Go ahead.”

“It seems the underground passage can’t be used anymore. Are there any other ways out?”

A derisive chuckle came through the wall.
“Of course there are. But really, you’re asking much, aren’t you? Why should I tell you?”

Ihan pulled his head back from the wall, turned toward the door, and raised his voice.
“Guard!”

“!?”

The man next door nearly bolted upright. What the hell are you doing?! Do you mean to die together?

• “What is it?”

“Could you pass something to the student next door for me?”

• “Understood.”

To his surprise, the undead jailor complied readily. He had suspected as much, since gifts from Professor Garcia had been passed through before.

Moments later, a basket filled with cookies, steaming black tea, and sugar was delivered into the next cell room.

Crash!

“???”

“Ah, no—it startled me. How did you get this inside?”

“It was given to me as a present.”

“……”

The senior now really wanted to know who this boy was.

Within a week, Ihan had discovered a path outside, nearly succeeded, and if not for misfortune he would have escaped outright. While imprisoned, he had managed to secure indulgent provisions, and even send gifts to others.

Could this kid be from a criminal guild?

The Black Turtle Tower was known to sometimes admit students who bore a history of crime. Ihan was starting to fit the bill—a figure too resourceful to be explained otherwise.

“A big player…!”

“So, senior—does that suffice?” Ihan asked.

“…Yes. Yes, I suppose it does.”

Having received such an unexpected gift, and wary of making enemies with one who might be guild-born, the fourth-year relented.

“But let me be straight with you. Not even we fourth-years know all the methods of escape. Many never succeed even once.”

Indeed, from second year onward, students were granted occasional leave, and many upperclassmen had still never accomplished an illicit escape. It was notoriously difficult.

“…For a first-year to succeed, though…”

“What I’ll tell you—I only heard from above. I’ve never tried it. No certain chance of success.”

According to him, within one of the main building’s highest spires, there was a special stable.

A stable for flying beasts!

These were the creatures professors rode, and the messenger eagles of officials rested there.
Such beasts bore blessings enabling them to cross the academy’s walls.

“The problem is, of course, they don’t let just anyone ride them.”

“……”

That much was obvious. Just as the storeroom had its Keeper, surely the stables would have their own protector.

Still, it’s a solid lead, Ihan thought.

If someone once had succeeded that way, then he could as well.

“Thank you, senior.”

This kid… did he already imagine success just from that? Who is he?

The neighbor’s suspicions only deepened.

• “Release. Ihan of Wadanaz.”

A day later, the undead guard opened the door.

Before leaving, Ihan slid a few chocolates into the next cell. Thanks to the faceless senior, he had learned much.

Although the man had grown increasingly curt and hesitant, Ihan assumed it was just irritation. Anyone would tire of endless questions from a stranger. Still, he was grateful for his answers.

Next time we meet, I’ll thank him properly.

He wound his way back through the labyrinth of stairs and halls until daylight met him at the academy’s surface. Outside, night was fading into dawn.

Feels almost like a pantry.

Back in his Blue Dragon Tower quarters, Ihan was startled anew. His room resembled less a student chamber and more a larder.

Jars and boxes stacked with salt, sugar, teas, canned fruits of apricot, peach, and pineapple. Tins of beans, salmon, corned beef. Truly, he could feed himself for weeks.

I could start a shop with this.

He set it aside for later pondering. For now, he had risen early to attempt Professor Thunderstep’s assignment at the stables.

“Ihan?”

Just then, as he left the lounge, a red-haired girl descended yawning, surprised to see him.

“Where were you all day yesterday?!”

“The punishment chamber. Did the professors not tell you?”

“They said you’d been injured doing something heroic, and were resting.”

“……”

He now understood Garcia’s lie. For scions of noble houses, reputation meant more than they let on. To say “sent to punishment” would shame his family’s name.

Better to frame it as an honorable wound.

“I tried to escape, got caught, thrown in.”

Blunt as always, Ihan confessed. Fortunately, Yonellia cared no more than he.

“Why go alone?”

“The information wasn’t confirmed. I wanted to check first.”

“Next time, we go together. Two heads are better than one.”

“Then shall we bring Nillia as well?”

“Yes. A fine idea.”

Absent though she was, Nillia had just been recruited. Neither of them worried about her consent.

“What exactly happened?” Yonellia asked.

As they walked toward the stables, Ihan slowly recounted everything. His theories about the underground passage, sneaking through, the Keeper that prowled its storeroom.

Yonellia’s eyes widened as she listened, silent in awe.

“And once outside, I found them waiting.”

“The Headmaster?”

“No. Imperial zealots.”

“!?!”

Yonellia gasped. Garcia’s tale had not been jest, after all. The zealots had really come.

“Then what you did was a true service!”

“And yet I was thrown in punishment.”

“…Why?” She could make no sense of it.

At the stables, other students had arrived first, nearly all from the Black Turtle Tower.

On seeing Ihan and Yonellia, they recoiled nervously and backed away.

Yonellia seemed not to care. But Ihan felt a sting in his heart.

“This prejudice—judging only by family or face—must end someday!”

Though in truth, their fear came not just from his lineage, but from the rumors about him. Such nuance Ihan did not realize.

“Um…”

“!”

When one of them called out, Ihan looked up with joy. Maybe Nillia?

But no—it was Ratford, the rat beastkin.

“Good morning, Lord Wadanaz.”

His manner was so formal it shocked Ihan. Anyone might believe he had been forced by threats!

“Hey—treat me normally.”

“This is normal, for me.”

Having grown under the thief guild’s law of the strong, Ratford found casual talk to superiors far more unbearable than submission. True ease lay in obedience and hierarchy.

“……”

The other Tower students’ gazes filled with even more dread. Ihan sighed in resignation.

“Fine. As you wish.”

Half-exasperated, he turned his attention back to Ratford. Truth be told, Ihan himself had wondered what had happened after he’d collapsed last time.

“What became of things after?”

“Yes. As ordered, I hid throughout the battle. When it ended, the Headmaster came with other professors.”

“Well done. Better that than recklessly getting wounded.”

“At that moment, the workers were distracted. I thought it was my chance. So I slipped into the wagons, picked their locks, and retrieved what valuables I could. Since I had to hide them, I chose only what fits small. I brought them as offering.”

Ratford presented a small box. Inside, vials clinked with liquid.

“……”

Ihan fell speechless. Awed.

This… this is what a true professional thief looks like.