<Chapter 19> Master and Disciple
2023.11.19
Cordelia was confused by the sudden shift in attitude, but quickly realized the truth. This man already knew Leonard was the real one. He was just jealous that Leonard had called someone else first, so he drew his sword out of spite.
Thinking about it, she found it ridiculous. Clearly, Leonard thought the same.
“You’re more upset that Baron found out I was alive before you did than the fact that I’m alive at all?”
“My Lord could never die. Especially not to someone like that.”
Belluche replied with firm conviction, his unwavering faith in Leonard shining through.
“When news spread that I’d died, plenty turned their backs on me for ‘someone like that.’ Who’s to say you wouldn’t have done the same?”
“My Lord! How could you compare me to those traitors? If you told me to die right here and now, I would gladly stab myself with a smile on my face!”
Belluche, looking wronged for having his loyalty questioned, suddenly pulled out a dagger. He brought the blade right up to his neck, ready to plunge it in at a moment’s notice.
Leonard, clearly used to this kind of dramatic display, didn’t even flinch. Instead, he casually waved his arm in a wide arc.
Then something unbelievable happened.
The shattered window was suddenly restored, and the broken, unrecognizable furniture returned to its flawless original state—without a scratch.
“I didn’t call you here to slit your throat. Stop being ridiculous and put that knife down.”
“Just give me the word. The traitorous pigs who betrayed you—I’ll rip them limb from limb and feed them to the dogs in the fields—”
Belluche looked ready to charge out the door, his body twitching with anticipation. Leonard sighed.
“Just do what I tell you. Don’t act on your own.”
“But, My Lord! Lamui and Dmirucel have been sneaking in and out of Maximilian’s room constantly. They must be torn to pieces.”
“I’ll handle it.”
Belluche’s tail immediately went between his legs. It was hard to believe he was the same man from just moments ago. Even Cordelia, who had watched the change from up close, couldn’t believe her eyes.
“What about Gasil? He’s not here too, is he?”
“Sir Gasil is not here, Belluche.”
Baron, having recovered somewhat, straightened up and replied. Belluche’s face noticeably brightened.
“Really? So that bastard still doesn’t know you’re here?”
“Hah. Why is it so important that Gasil isn’t around?”
“Because it means I’m your official right-hand man.”
“That’s right. It was My Lord who said to summon Belluche first.”
Baron’s words appeased Belluche, who beamed like a child bathed in spring sunshine. Such a transparent man.
Their near-deadly fight now seemed like something from the distant past. Baron, who had been split in half, and Belluche, who had bled from his ears and nose, wiped away their blood as if nothing had happened and resumed their conversation.
Cordelia still couldn’t fully grasp the nature of the relationship among these three.
She stood awkwardly at a distance, not part of the conversation. Leonard called her over with a wave.
“What are you doing over there? Come here.”
“Ah, um…”
“Who is that woman? She had the nerve to send me a letter.”
“I sent that letter, Belluche. Using Lady Cordelia’s name.”
“Why’d you use my name…?”
Cordelia turned slightly to look at Baron, but the answer came from Leonard instead.
“Because you’re my disciple. It’s common for a master to send letters using a student’s name.”
“Besides, it was important for the letter to catch Belluche’s attention. If it had come under the name Abrams, he would’ve tossed it into the fireplace without even opening it.”
“Ah… I see.”
Cordelia nodded awkwardly.
“Wait, hold on. Disciple? What do you mean?”
This time Belluche couldn’t follow the conversation. He looked between Cordelia and Leonard with a bewildered expression.
“What part of that is hard to understand? She’s my disciple—Cordelia Vasquez, right here.”
“But why?”
“What do you mean ‘why’?”
“When the Duke of Leviche begged you on his knees, you still refused to take him as a student. Isn’t it nearly impossible to become a wizard’s disciple past the age of ten, no matter how talented they are? So why her? Why take in someone so… plain and unimpressive?”
Cordelia clenched her jaw at the insult but held her tongue.
“Belluche.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“Your arrogance could pierce the heavens.”
Leonard’s voice was icy. The air instantly froze. Belluche realized his mistake and quickly bowed deeply.
“I just didn’t want anyone to tarnish your exalted name, My Lord…”
“Tarnish? If I cared about my name that much, would I have kept a bastard of Ingrion like you by my side?”
“…”
“Are you insulting her existence, or my judgment?”
“…Forgive me, My Lord. I overstepped.”
Belluche lowered himself to the ground like a whipped dog.
It wasn’t as though Leonard was defending her, but at least he publicly acknowledged her as his disciple, and that made Cordelia secretly happy.
But Leonard, seemingly annoyed by her silent blinking, turned to her.
“You say something too.”
“…Me?”
“You never shut up when it’s just the two of us. Why go silent now?”
“Well… I’m comfortable around you, Master… but he’s…”
“‘He’? Say ‘this guy’ instead.”
“He’s the one who tried to strangle me the moment I mentioned your name. What could I possibly say to him?”
“What did I do?”
Belluche’s head whipped around like a snapping branch, and he glared fiercely at Cordelia. He didn’t say anything, but his expression said plenty.
Cordelia didn’t care. She tilted her head, baring her neck for Leonard to see the mark clearly.
“Oh dear, look at that. Your neck’s all red. Are you okay, Lady Cordelia?”
“He strangled me so hard I couldn’t even breathe… I really thought I was going to die.”
She wasn’t the type to pretend to be a saint with nothing to gain. As Baron played along with exaggerated concern, Cordelia coughed dramatically.
Leonard’s gaze turned cold again. He silently stared at Belluche, then raised a finger to Cordelia’s neck.
A faint light appeared, and a cool sensation washed over her throat. The wound wasn’t visible, but she could tell it had healed. Without looking away from Belluche, Leonard said,
“Baron.”
“Yes?”
“Take Cordelia to her room.”
“Huh? I can go alone, you know?”
Why would she need an escort in her own house? As Cordelia objected, Baron quickly walked ahead and opened the door.
“Come now. My Lord clearly has something urgent to discuss with Belluche.”
“…Ah.”
Realizing his intent, Cordelia obediently followed. Baron, now translucent, perched lightly on the back of her hand.
“Don’t take anything Belluche says to heart. He speaks without thinking.”
“Why would I listen to someone I met just today?”
Cordelia smiled sharply. Baron blinked slowly.
“Then that’s a relief. His swordsmanship is exceptional, but he’s not even close to our Lord in intellect or character. That’s why I suggested calling Sir Gasil instead—”
“…What?”
“Nothing.”
Their conversation paused as a group of servants passed by. Once they were alone again, Baron changed the subject.
“How are your magic studies going?”
“They’re fun. Surprisingly so. Right now, I can barely tell a carrot from a potato, but still.”
“Haha. I’m glad to hear that. Magic is a discipline of endless learning. The joy of study is what helps one endure its long hardships.”
“Is that why Master keeps putting me through so much pain? To teach me patience?”
Baron gave a faint smile at her remark. Before long, they reached her room.
“Thanks to your attentive care, My Lord has recovered significantly.”
“Me? I was just annoying him daily.”
“He didn’t say it, but after being betrayed by Maximilian and losing his body, he was deeply disheartened. Since accepting you as his disciple, he’s stopped brooding so much and even smiles more.”
“But now he has a dumb student who frustrates him daily.”
“Well… life can’t be all good things.”
Since he didn’t deny the “dumb student” part, Cordelia felt a little down.
Unaware of her feelings, Baron gave a slight shrug and bowed before vanishing into thin air.
The next morning…
“Your mouth is far too loose.”
“Ah! You scared me!”
Cordelia nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of Belluche right outside her door. She tried to shut it, but he was faster.
“You told My Lord I put my hand on your neck? That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?”
“Good morning to you too, Belluche.”
“Did I say you could call me that?”
“Well, I can’t exactly go around calling you ‘Ingrion’s bastard.’ Belluche’s a fine name.”
“…Hah.”
The veins on the back of his hand bulged as he gripped the door. He really was the kind of person who wore his emotions on his sleeve.
“Don’t expect to be treated like a real disciple. That’s never going to happen.”
“Really? Because it seems like I already am. You even came running to greet me first thing in the morning.”
“You think this is a greeting? You’re as dumb as you look.”
He sneered openly and looked down on her. His gaze was cold, but Cordelia kept her smile, meeting his eyes boldly.
“You look worse than yesterday. I guess you got chewed out for putting your hands on me, huh?”
“Chewed out? Me?”
Belluche laughed loudly, enough to echo through the corridor. Then he abruptly stopped and lowered his voice into a strange tone—somewhere between formal and informal.
“Baron already told me. The only reason My Lord took you in is because he pitied you. Don’t go thinking you’re something special.”
“Oh? Did he also tell you I can see magic?”
“…What?”
“Master said that kind of talent only shows up once in a thousand years.”
