And so—
Spica, who had barged into teatime, started chattering away cheerfully.
“After all, a revolution must be splendid and authoritative.”
She began rambling on about her theory of revolution.
Of course, every time she did, I felt like I was about to die.
Am I dizzy from listening to Spica’s revolutionary speeches?
No.
It’s because the place where she’s chattering is on my lap.
“Spica. That’s not proper etiquette. Get down now.”
“No, sister. I like it here.”
Immediately after, Spica leaned her back against my body.
Four years apart from Ayla—meaning thirteen years old this year—Spica was full of youthful energy.
The problem is that she’s directing that energy at me. …Please save me.
There’s an old torture method called *apsul*—where you place a stone on someone’s lap and have a person step on it…
“Spica.”
“…Ugh. Fine. I understand.”
At Ayla’s next warning, Spica reluctantly got up, and only then was I freed from the 30kg torture machine, Byeonse Death.
With a *pop*, Spica hopped down and elegantly slid away. There was no walking, yet distance was created.
A concept similar to the black crystals under Ayla’s feet when she moved me before.
And Spica was using it lightly, as if it were nothing.
“Hm.”
As expected of Spica Triasta.
I can already sense the promise of a reliable top-tier war mage.
Hmm. She’s definitely worth putting in the party.
“Spica, you understand, right? Wolfram is busy—he doesn’t have time to play with a little kid.”
“I’m not a little kid! Once I enroll, I’ll be a proper young lady! I’ll grow at a revolutionary speed!”
Sorry, but that dream won’t come true.
Even when Spica becomes Kelter’s junior next year, she’ll still be short.
But she’s the very child who proves that physical strength isn’t the essence of a person’s strength.
“Spica.”
“Yes, orabeo-ni.”
“When you enroll next year, come to this convenience store, not any other department. Also—are you interested in expeditions?”
“O-of course! It’s an honor! The great revolutionary cause that orabeo-ni seeks to achieve—its right arm shall be occupied by this Spica Triasta!”
“Wolfram!?”
Well, whatever.
Since an opportunity for tampering has come, it’d be a waste to throw it away.
Spica Triasta is that much of a talent.
A true war mage worthy of the top-tier evaluation.
Honestly, I’d like to raise her, but I don’t have the confidence to do it myself.
So…
“Spica. Soon Eve will teach you magic. You have lessons, don’t you?”
“Y-yes! Orab-eo-ni.”
“When that happens, pit your magic operations against Eve’s mana control. Just that alone will be good study.”
“…Ah, I see. Never forget to learn in any situation—truly revolutionary!”
“And if Eve shows interest in you, say this.”
At my following words, the eyes of the Triasta sisters went wide.
—
Eve von Lohengrin is excessively greedy for talent.
She tried to throw away the prejudice that “all talents must have good stats,” and succeeded to a large extent—but that’s entirely separate from her greed disappearing.
That’s why the Sprout System was an incredibly anticipated school event for Eve von Lohengrin.
Because she could see the seeds of talent in children whose enrollment was confirmed—those who would become the top and runner-up of the next cohort.
“Using mana is a kind of territorial struggle. You compare your mana stat with your opponent’s, and the higher one can move more high-density mana simultaneously, pressing down on the opponent.”
Eve lectured on mana usage while spreading her own mana around her.
The sprouts panicked as they felt their mana being suppressed in an instant.
All except for one.
“I see. As expected, high mana is power. Truly amazing! My Revolution Triasta No. 3 is creaking from the drive system itself! It’s revolutionary, President Eve!”
There was a sprout there who was using magic while somewhat ignoring Eve’s mana control.
“Spica Triasta, was it?”
“Yes! President!”
“…If you don’t mind, could you step out for a moment and show me some magic?”
“It’s an honor! Then may I also dare to make a request!”
“Oh my, I’ll allow it.”
“If I’m going to show it, I’d like to compete with President Eve in a magical contest!”
“Pardon?”
“I want to receive guidance from you, President, who possesses the mana stat called humanity’s strongest—and confirm where I currently stand!”
A straight line that knows no lies, clear eyes.
A pure heart wanting to challenge someone stronger than herself.
Eve smiled with genuine delight.
There were still children with such eyes, huh.
“Alright. Spica Triasta, step forward.”
“Yes!”
—
“Wolfram. Is it true that you want to go on expeditions together with Spica once she enrolls?”
“Hm. Spica is a fine talent. If she agrees, there’s no reason not to.”
“…Ugh.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I highly value Wolfram’s eye for talent, but… Spica is still a child, and her body is weak.”
“Hm. So that’s how you see it.”
“…Pardon?”
Spica Triasta.
Let me just mention her important stats.
First, her Magic is 18. A genius who barely surpassed human limits.
On the other hand, her Stamina and Strength are quite low. Stamina 11, Strength 9.
Looking this far, she’s an ordinary mage.
In a way, she’s a lower-tier version of Eve—but she has an incredible advantage that other mages don’t.
“Spica has a rather unique stat distribution.”
“Dexterity.”
“Yes. Her Dexterity stat is 19.”
That’s right.
Spica Triasta’s Dexterity is 19.
Looking this far, she’s a dexterity-type magician—so in a way, she’s a lower-tier version of Ayla.
“But a mage’s dexterity ultimately needs physical strength and stamina to support it, doesn’t it?”
“Hm. Not necessarily.”
“…Pardon?”
That’s because you, Ayla, were born with it.
Strength. Stamina. Magic. Dexterity.
Having all specs, Ayla Triasta, when cornered, wraps black crystals around her fists and transforms into a battle mage.
But Spica isn’t like that.
For a pure mage, she’s too much of a lower-tier Eve.
For a battle mage, she has no room to compete with Ayla.
But what makes Spica amazing is that she chose a completely different path from the two of them.
If she successfully challenged Eve to a spar, I hope she learned well from this opportunity.
—
The battle was overwhelmingly in Eve’s favor throughout.
Naturally—even at this very moment, if she fired a Seven-Phrase Light Cannon, that child would be knocked out.
But competing with magic and giving guidance also means watching over all of the opponent’s possibilities.
That’s why Eve had no intention of ending the fight easily.
Triasta.
Though not a founding merit family of the Empire, they are the lords of the West.
Pushed to the West because they weren’t included among the original Ten Elders, they became a prestigious family holding hegemony over the West.
They always had to survive in the West, which was like facing nature itself, and they stood against nature believing in their own convictions.
That’s why they are strong. Talented. Possessing a pioneering spirit that shines brighter than anyone else.
When she first heard those words—and after seeing Ayla Triasta, Wolfram’s fiancée, she somewhat agreed—but seeing this child, she became certain.
Triasta is indeed a prestigious family.
“Go! Revolution Triasta Minimum!”
“**[Light Cannon: Single Shot]**”
Truly, truly enjoyable.
Spica Triasta.
She is what is extremely rare in this era—a **[War Mage]**.
She shows weakness in close combat, but if you call a mage who is strongest in pure magic—like Eve herself—a **[Pure Mage]**, then Ayla Triasta, who is also proficient in physical arts and doesn’t lose in close combat, is called a **[Battle Mage]**.
But she summons countless golems and commands them, capable of executing concepts at the strategic level rather than tactical, alone on the battlefield—that is a **[War Mage]**.
Not bad mana. The family magic of black crystals. And an abnormally high dexterity.
She invests all that dexterity into **[Golem Crafting]**, staying in the rear to grasp the battlefield situation and issue orders, while the golems faithfully carry them out.
“Triasta Minimum! Fall back! Triasta No. 3! Charge!”
“**[Light Cannon: Rapid Fire]**”
What’s most astonishing is that Spica probably arrived at the answer of “war mage” on her own.
You can tell from her too-familiar magic control and battle flow.
Talent far lower than her own. Versatility lacking even compared to her sister.
Overcoming the meager talent that can’t help but be compared to the peak of an era—that child carved her own path.
“Come back! Triasta No. 3! The preparations are complete!”
“Oh my. Are you finally coming?”
“Yes! This is my trump card!”
Of course, Eve also knew that Spica was preparing some kind of trump card.
The first thing that child did was set up golems to protect herself—in other words, the “general” position of issuing orders from the safest zone.
If she’s issuing a retreat order, naturally something big is coming.
With all golems recalled, Spica’s body rose into the air.
Not a levitation spell, but a massive black crystal golem—of a size never seen before.
At least three stories tall, it seemed. That alone was truly interesting, but what was even more interesting—
This golem only has an upper body and a right arm.
“Oh my. Is it still incomplete?”
“Yes! There’s room for even more revolutionary development! Here I come, President!”
“I’m really looking forward to it.”
Saying that, the golem’s right arm was raised and swung down toward Eve.
Seeing that attack, Eve made an expression that said “I have no choice.”
This is completely like a mischievous little sister, isn’t it?
This had surpassed a magical spar. That attack would hurt a bit if it landed properly.
But perhaps with a bit of heat in her head, that child unhesitatingly pulled out her final card.
And astonishingly, it was an attack that warranted Eve breaking her own self-imposed rules.
“I was trying not to use more than two phrases, but—**[Light Cannon: Light Barrier: Physical Resistance Enhancement]**”
A child with overwhelmingly lower stats than herself.
In sparring with that child, she had to break the rules she’d set for herself.
Eve von Lohengrin.
A rigid girl still carrying remnants of the habit of prejudging and judging others—to her, this brought a once-in-a-lifetime thrill and vitality.
The world is too vast to judge with just my own eyes!
And what shattered this narrow perspective was none other than a girl three years younger than herself!
Eve kept her smile until the end, lightly blocking Spica’s attack.
The golem couldn’t break through the light barrier that stood as if protecting Eve.
“Fufu. I win.”
“Aww. I lost.”
Climbing onto the golem and patting Spica’s head, she started making “aww aww” sounds, and Eve enjoyed the pleasant sensation in her hand for a while before dispelling the golem.
Come to think of it, the reason she could resist Eve’s mana control was also due to Spica’s magical nature.
Spica’s magic isn’t directed outward but toward completing her own world—the golem—so external mana levels don’t affect her much.
This too was an eye-opener.
“Wonderful magic, Spica Triasta.”
“Thank you…”
Truly, she wanted to build a good relationship with this child.
Wolfram von Lohengrin’s fiancée, Ayla Triasta—for various reasons, Eve didn’t quite get along with her, but she didn’t hold any particular ill will either.
And if the two were to marry, wouldn’t this Spica become something like her little sister?
As the youngest among the Imperial descendants, the concept of a “little sister” held a mysterious resonance for Eve.
She was several times better than “that brat” from the line above. No, comparison itself was impossible.
“Spica Triasta.”
“Y-yes! President!”
“Oh my… you can call me ‘unnie,’ you know.”
“Th-that would be too presumptuous… How about a compromise—’senpai’!”
“Fufu. Yes. Alright. Anyway, your enrollment is confirmed for next year, right? And you’re planning to join the Magic Department.”
“Yes!”
“Then… would you like to join the Student Council?”
“…Pardon?”
Yes. First, get her into the Student Council.
Then get closer, and hear her call me “unnie.”
That was Eve’s dream—and Spica, looking at Eve like that, beamed.
“Sorry! I already have a prior engagement!”
“…Pardon?”
“Wolfram orabeo-ni told me to come to his convenience store! I have to keep my promise!”
“…Who? Wolfram…?”
“I’m sorry! I want to keep the promise I made with my beloved orabeo-ni! A revolutionary keeps their promises!”
“…………”
Saying that, Spica bowed her head.
It was a perfect rejection.
—
One day.
From afar, a golden flash flew toward the convenience store yard.
Anyone could tell it was Eve von Lohengrin, and with teary, shaky eyes, she pointed at me accusingly.
“Y-you’re always like that! Always taking everything for yourself! And, and that greed again…!”
“…?”
“Just you wait! I, I will someday, someday definitely…!”
“What?”
“Y-you greedy thing!”
Arriving like a flash, Eve vanished like lightning.
“…This pattern is a first.”
Suddenly showing up, cursing at me, and running off—does that even happen?
