A Modern Compendium of Imaginary Magic Woven with Love, Chapter 2 Section 2: The Silver-Haired Sorcerer Prodigy

Note:
This story was originally written in Japanese and has been translated into English using OpenAI's ChatGPT.

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　Good grief. Day after day, it never ends.

　Today, that girl from the Wizard Department picked another fight with me. Am I really such a detestable person? I can't think of any reason she’d hold a grudge against me...

　As she gazed into the mirror in the changing room, the silver-haired Sorcerer mulled over the matter alone.

　Honestly, if she’s going to pick fights, could she at least mix it up a little? With the same predictable routine, there’s not much I can do. Sure, the basic spell Fire Ball is technically superior to the introductory Ice Balls, but in mock battles, what really matters is speed and frequency of attack, not just raw power.

　Her Fire Balls may pack a punch, but the slow casting time and limited quantity are critical weaknesses.

　Meanwhile, I can fire off Ice Balls one after another. Before she knows it, she’s too flustered to even complete a spell. It’s all about strategy. If she could just figure that out, she might stand a chance. But alas... what a shame.

　Still, this routine is becoming a problem. Hannah and her group’s growing irritation has me worried. They’re not bad kids individually, but when they’re together, they have a tendency to go overboard. Honestly, I’m a bit concerned.

　It’s true that the Wizards interrupting our practice is annoying, but if something as trivial as that is enough to rattle us, then it’s our own fault for lacking the strength and focus we need. We need teamwork and adaptability to handle the senior students in the Intermediate Department. I wish Hannah and the others could see that, but I suppose they have their own perspective. There’s no point in pressing the issue.

　A part of me would love to sit down and talk with that girl, but with the way she charges at me, that’s probably wishful thinking.

　As she thought this over, Hannah and her clique bustled into the changing room, filling the space with chatter.

“Wow, as expected of you, Milady! You totally wiped the floor with that blonde idiot again this morning!”

　Hannah’s blunt remark hit home. Well, it’s true I beat her again.

“We already told her yesterday she’s wasting her time bothering us Sorcerers. But she doesn’t learn! It’s exhausting dealing with idiots.”

　So that’s what happened... I really hope things don’t escalate. A shadow of unease crossed my mind.

　The petty squabbles between her and me aren’t a big deal. It’s just sparring within official mock battle rules, after all. Both of us have our pride as competitors, and she has every right to challenge me, just as I have every right to accept.

　But Hannah’s animosity toward the Wizards sometimes borders on unsettling. Especially her persistent targeting of that girl—probably the blonde Wizard’s closest friend. Hannah’s group harasses her with relentless teasing. For now, it’s just words, and the girl doesn’t seem too bothered, but if it escalates during such an important time, it’ll be a headache I’d rather avoid.

“Hey, Milady. Maybe it’s time we taught them a lesson?”

　Hannah’s suggestion rang with malice.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I have no interest in stirring up trouble. Besides, first-year Wizards are no match for us. You saw it yourself this morning. We need to set our sights higher. If we’re going to take on Wizards, it should be the upperclassmen in the Intermediate Department.”

“As expected of Milady! You’re always thinking ahead. Don’t worry, we won’t let anyone interfere with your rise to glory. This year, the first-year Sorcerer team will show the Guilds what we’re made of and secure those scouts!”

　Cheers of agreement filled the changing room. To be honest, I wasn’t particularly interested in their ambitions. Well, maybe that’s not entirely true, but I certainly didn’t share their grandiose aspirations.

　I also dislike the way they look down on others. Everyone has their struggles, doing their best in their circumstances. I’m no different.

　They call me a “noble daughter,” and it’s true I carry that title. But the reality isn’t as glamorous as it seems—rules, traditions, expectations, endless dos and don’ts. It’s suffocating.

　What I really want is a friend who sees me as just another person, not as a “noble.”

　If my family were to fall from grace tomorrow, all these people would abandon me without hesitation, regardless of my skills as a Sorcerer. I know that all too well.

　Sigh…

“What’s wrong, Milady? You look a little down.”

“Nothing. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s that girl, isn’t it? She’s wearing you out, right? Don’t worry. Leave her to us. We’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you again.”

“It’s fine. That’s not it at all.”

　The bell signaling the morning lecture interrupted their chatter.

“Hurry up, or we’ll be late!”

　As team leader, I urged them to move.

“Anyone who’s late will get extra training sessions!”

“Gosh, Milady, you’re relentless!”

　With groans and laughter, the group scattered and left the changing room.

　Time for me to hurry, too.

　＊　＊　＊

　It was during lunch that day.

　By chance, I noticed members of our championship team and Hannah’s clique gathered together in a slightly open area next to the cafeteria. They appeared to be discussing something, planning perhaps, but since no one had called for me, it was likely something I didn’t need to concern myself with. Still, what could they possibly be planning with more than ten people gathered like that?

　Hannah’s parting words from this morning suddenly resurfaced in my mind: “We won’t let her interfere with us anymore.” What could she have meant by that? She had said yesterday that talking to her directly had yielded no results. Surely… no, they wouldn’t. As reckless as they can sometimes be, even they wouldn’t make such a shortsighted move, especially not with the tournament only a month away. If they caused trouble as a group now, it could jeopardize the championship itself. They had to know that.

　I convinced myself with these thoughts and walked away from the scene.

　Little did I know then that my decision to leave would lead to a regret so profound, it would haunt me later. At that moment, I couldn’t possibly have foreseen what was to come...

　＊　＊　＊

　"Hey, you little punk, don’t you dare take me lightly!"

　The furious shout, unmistakably a voice of rage, echoed behind the usually deserted research building. It was just past 5 PM, and the sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm orange light over a crowd of more than ten people gathered in a circle.

　"You get it, don’t you? Because of you, she’s had it rough, and so have we. It’s about time you learned your place."

　Surrounded by the group, a single girl was crouched on the ground. Her face was contorted in pain, tears streaming from her eyes. She had clearly been beaten.

　"Maybe that’s enough," said Hannah, stepping forward. She had been standing a short distance away, observing the scene with detached amusement. "She’s just a lesser being, after all. It’s not like we want her dead."

　It seemed they had lured Liz here after school and attacked her as a group. They’d finally crossed the line.

　Hannah walked over to Liz, grabbed a handful of her hair near the roots, and yanked her head upward.

　"That blonde idiot, honestly. But then, what else can you expect? This is exactly why I can’t stand you lesser beings," she spat, her words dripping with disdain.

　"If only you’d listened to my warning yesterday, you wouldn’t have to suffer like this. But no, you ignored me. So, if you’re going to blame anyone, blame that idiot blonde. This is all her fault."

　With a callous shove, Hannah released Liz, causing her to collapse to the ground again.

　"The nerve of you lesser beings, thinking you can stand against us nobles. It’s revolting. If you’re so upset, why don’t you try and do something about it, you miserable creature?"

　Hannah’s words escalated, her disdain now tinged with a strange fervor that even caused some of her followers to hesitate uneasily.

　"You can’t do anything, can you? Of course not. That’s your fate, isn’t it? No talent, no innate ability, yet you dare call yourselves mages, the same as us? Don’t lump us together with you beggars."

　What had twisted Hannah’s heart so deeply? Her scorn carried not just hatred but a hint of madness.

　"Does it hurt? Oh, I wonder if lesser beings even have the capacity for something as noble as regret."

　Hannah’s laughter rang out, filled with a cold and unhinged glee. Her eyes shone with an unnatural glint, the kind that made onlookers shudder.

　"Tell me, how does it feel to grovel on the ground like that? I’m afraid we nobles will never understand such a perspective. Why don’t you enlighten me? Hahaha!"

　Her insults and mockery showed no signs of stopping.

　"You know, I’ll give you something nice—something to teach you what true power looks like," Hannah said, crouching in front of Liz.

　"This is a Crystal Skull, a forbidden magical artifact that lets you directly draw on the power of the underworld. You empty lesser beings should have plenty of room for it, right? Maybe you’ll even get a little stronger with it. Want to give it a try?"

　Hannah held the artifact out in front of Liz, taunting her.

　"See? This is power—the absolute wall that separates us nobles from you lesser beings. But with this, maybe you can come a little closer to our level," she sneered.

　Liz was too overwhelmed by pain to respond, her body wracked with agony.

　"Nothing to say? Of course not. Lesser beings like you are nothing but garbage." Hannah set the artifact down in front of Liz.

　"Here, I’ll leave this for you. Whether you use it or not is up to you. But remember, our patience has limits. If that blonde idiot causes trouble for her again, it won’t just be you next time—it’ll be her turn. And I can promise you, it won’t end with her half-dead."

　Hearing this, Liz lifted her tear-streaked face to glare at Hannah with a defiant intensity.

　"What’s this? You still have some fight left in you? Well, if you think you’re capable of doing anything, go ahead. Use that artifact and try to stop us."

　Standing up, Hannah addressed her group.

　"We’re done here. Let’s go."

　With that, the group departed, leaving the scene behind as the sun finally set. Shadows deepened around the area, and only Liz and the forbidden artifact remained. A faint autumn breeze swept through, carrying with it a chilling sense of desolation.

　Liz lay there for a moment, her lips trembling as she bit down hard enough to draw blood, tears flowing freely down her face.

　As the darkness thickened, Liz slowly reached out, grasping the artifact with her trembling right hand. Fighting through the pain, she forced herself to stand, her battered body a testament to the cruelty she had endured.

　She began to limp toward the dormitory, dragging her injured leg behind her.

　The night sky seemed higher than usual, and stars began to dot the deepening void above, twinkling like scattered tears. Constellations painted the heavens, shining silently over Liz’s determined silhouette.

　＊　＊　＊

　The following morning, in the Wizard Department’s changing room.

　Morning practice was about to begin. A girl burst into the room, breathless and agitated.

　"Hey, did you hear!?"

　"Geez, you’re loud this early. What is it?"

　"Those jerks! They finally went and did it!"

　"Did what?"

　"Are you seriously that dense? Doesn’t it bother you at all that Liz isn’t here right now?"

　"Wait… you don’t mean—!"

　"Yeah, I mean exactly that! Yesterday, they ambushed Liz behind the research building and lynched her!"

　"What?! Damn it, they’re gonna pay for this!"

　Without another word, the Wizard bolted out of the changing room, heading straight for the Wizard practice field. If they have a problem with me, they should’ve come to me! Why Liz?! This is unforgivable! Rage surged through her, blinding her to anything else.

　She sprinted up the stairs, and the Sorcerer Department’s field came into view.

　"Hey, you silver-haired jerk! Get out here!"

　The Sorcerer was warming up in one corner of the field, preparing for morning drills.

　"You again? And so worked up this time," she said, her tone calm and composed.

　"Don’t you dare play innocent, you piece of crap! How could you? Sending that lapdog of yours to go after Liz? That’s low, even for you!"

　Hearing that, the Sorcerer froze. Flashes of yesterday afternoon came rushing back to her mind.

　"It can’t be…"

　"Don’t give me that ‘can’t be’ crap! Liz’s revenge is here—get ready!"

　"Please, wait a moment. Let’s calm down and talk."

　"Calm down? You think I’m joking?!"

　"I’m serious. Just hear me out, please."

　Their shouting drew the attention of the Sorcerer Department’s championship team members, who began gathering. Among them was none other than Hannah, the ringleader.

　"What’s this? Still haven’t learned your lesson after all that?"

　The Wizard snapped her head toward the source of the voice, glaring daggers.

　"You! You’re gonna pay for what you did to Liz! I’ll kill you!"

　"My, my. A lesser being who dares ignore my warnings yet again? Unforgivable. Prepare yourself!"

　"Enough talk! You’re going down!"

　Just as the two were about to clash, a loud voice cut through the tension.

　"STOP THIS IMMEDIATELY!"

　The voice belonged to the silver-haired Sorcerer. The sheer force and clarity of it stunned everyone, silencing the field. No one could believe that such a commanding tone had come from someone so elegant and composed.

　"Hannah," the Sorcerer began, turning to face her, "what’s the meaning of this?"

　"Well… I just wanted to make sure this pest stopped bothering you every day—"

　SMACK!

　The sharp crack of a slap echoed across the field.

　"Milady, what are you—!"

　Hannah staggered, clutching her cheek where the Sorcerer had struck her. Tears welled up in her eyes.

　"Who asked you to do this?" the Sorcerer demanded, her voice cold and firm.

　"But… she keeps—"

　"I said, who asked you to do this!?"

　The force of her voice made Hannah shrink back.

　"I… I’m sorry," Hannah stammered.

　"Sorry isn’t good enough. Do you even understand what you’ve done?"

　Hannah fell silent, her head bowed.

　The Sorcerer then turned to the Wizard and knelt before her.

　"I know that an apology won’t fix this," she said, her voice trembling.

　"But right now, this is all I can do. I had the chance to notice what Hannah and the others were doing. I could have stopped it. But I didn’t. That failure is mine. This is all my fault. I’m so sorry."

　The most noble and respected pureblood Sorcerer of their year was on her knees, bowing deeply to the Wizard. Those watching were stunned into silence, unable to process what they were seeing. Even the Wizard herself was too shocked to respond immediately.

　"Dammit… What the hell," she muttered under her breath, finally finding her voice.

　"Raise your head. I get it now—you didn’t incite that piece of crap over there. I’ll deal with her, but seeing you like this doesn’t sit right with me. Please, just stand up. Maybe I was wrong, too, for being so stubborn. I’m sorry."

　She knelt down in front of the Sorcerer and took her hand, helping her rise.

　"Thank you," the Sorcerer said softly. "I’m truly sorry. I don’t know how I can make it up to your friend…"

　"You’ll find a way. But for now, I understand."

　The Wizard helped her to her feet. Standing tall, the Sorcerer addressed the crowd with a dignified air.

　"I sincerely apologize. As a representative of the Sorcerer Department, I take full responsibility for what happened. I understand your anger, but I ask that you allow us the chance to handle this matter internally first. Please."

　Her voice carried a calm authority, like water carving its way through stone. Even those complicit in the incident looked ashamed, avoiding her gaze.

　In the distance, the warning bell for morning classes rang out.

　"What are you all doing here?! The bell has rung! Get to your classrooms, now!"

　A supervising professor’s voice boomed across the field.

　Reluctantly, the Sorcerer Department members dispersed toward their classrooms, and the Wizard had no choice but to do the same.

　And so, the morning’s confrontation came to an uneasy close… for now.

　＊　＊　＊

　After school, when the Wizard arrived at the training classroom, Liz was already there, surrounded by their teammates.

“You’re late,” Liz said with her usual playful smirk.

“Are you alright?” the Wizard asked, concern etched on her face.

“Of course I am. That was nothing,” Liz replied.

　But despite her words, her appearance told a different story. Bandages covered her bruised and battered body, and the sight of her injuries was nothing short of heartbreaking.

“Liz… I’m so sorry. I really am,” the Wizard said, lowering her gaze.

“Why are you apologizing?” Liz asked, puzzled.

“Because if I hadn’t been so stubborn, this wouldn’t have happened. It’s my fault. I’m sorry,” she said, her voice heavy with guilt.

“Forget it. It’s fine,” Liz said with a gentle smile, as warm and understanding as ever.

“By the way, do you want this?” Liz asked, holding up the crystal skull she’d been given.

“What the hell is that?” the Wizard asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Apparently, it’s some kind of forbidden magic artifact. If you’re willing to trade away your reason and compassion, it’ll grant you incredible power straight from the underworld. At least, that’s what it says on Arcane Cloud. With this, you might even stand a chance against that silver-haired jerk,” Liz said with a teasing grin.

“Not interested,” the Wizard replied flatly.

“Figures. You don’t have much compassion to begin with, but if you trade away even that tiny scrap of reason you’ve got, you’ll just be some fire-slinging monkey,” Liz teased, laughing.

“Shut up! I’ll show you I’m more than just fire magic,” the Wizard shot back.

“Oh? Bold words.”

“Damn right. When I’m serious, I can deliver!”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

　Trading away reason and compassion… This world of magic truly had its share of terrifying forbidden relics. Deep down, the Wizard was relieved Liz hadn’t succumbed to despair and used it. Without thinking, she stepped forward and embraced Liz gently, careful of her injuries.

“Hey, stop it. I don’t swing that way, you know,” Liz said, laughing awkwardly.

“Neither do I. It’s just… I guess it’s like team bonding or something,” the Wizard replied, pulling away.

“Well, thanks.”

　Their teammates, who had been watching, began clapping, the sound filling the room with warmth.

“Alright, everyone,” the Wizard declared. “This tournament is Liz’s revenge match! Let’s make it big!”

“Hey, don’t kill me off just yet!” Liz retorted, rolling her eyes.

　Laughter rippled through the room, enveloping everyone in its warmth.

　It was around the same time as yesterday’s incident. The setting sun cast its golden hues across the sky, and the stars and constellations that had shimmered like teardrops yesterday began to emerge once more. But today, their glow felt different—warmer, kinder, more hopeful.

　Despite the fixed circumstances of birth, environment, and fate, people could still choose their own paths and seize their possibilities. Nature and destiny were merely vessels, containers to be filled. It was not the vessel that defined the contents, but the contents that gave meaning to the vessel.

　The camaraderie and warmth in the classroom lingered late into the night, radiating a quiet, enduring heat that comforted them all.