The Principle of a Philosopher by Eternal Fool “Asley”

Chapter 9.1, Encounters In Younger Days

Chapter 9.1, Encounters In Younger Days

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“Ah-hem! I am Irene, soon to be one of the Six Archmages!”

The bold declaration echoed through the Magic University classroom as she stood proudly at the podium, her chest swelling with determination and self-assurance.

“Very good, Miss Irene. That’s quite an ambitious goal,” the instructor responded with a calm, measured tone. She clapped her hands softly to send Irene away. “Now, please return to your seat.”

“Grrr!” Irene growled in frustration, her eyes narrowing into a fierce glare aimed directly at the unruffled instructor.

Beside Irene sat a small, sharp-featured man, his expression a mask of boredom and disinterest.

“You seem… familiar. Have we met somewhere?” Irene inquired, tilting her head and resting her chin on her hand.

“Eh, I dunno,” the young man replied with a shrug, his tone indifferent and detached.

Irritated by his lackluster response, Irene leaned closer, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized his face intently.

The man closed his eyes, more interested in listening to the instructor’s ongoing lecture.

Suddenly, Irene felt a slight bump against her elbow.

She rubbed the spot, discovering a curious protrusion beneath her fingertips.

Leaning forward, she realized it was her own nameplate affixed to the desk.

Intrigued, she leaned even further to read the nameplate of the man beside her.

Her curiosity only heightened, Irene leaned even further to read the nameplate of the young man beside her.

“Gas… ton? Gaston! Ah, you’re the one who ranked first this year!” Irene’s voice rang out, cutting through the classroom like a clarion call.

Despite the instructor’s sharp, reproving glance, Irene was undeterred, continuing her one-sided conversation.

“I’m Irene. I missed out on the top spot because of the interview, but I scored perfect marks on both the written and practical exams! Hey! Are you listening?”

Gaston remained silent, his demeanor unchanged, while Irene prattled on.

And so began the tale of the young Irene and Gaston.

??????????

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Are you seriously ignoring me while I’m talking to you? What’s wrong with you!?”

Everyone was making their way towards the Maginasium for their first practical class.

Gaston, clutching his staff and textbook, walked with a steady, unperturbed stride. Beside him, Irene chattered incessantly.

Despite her persistent attempts to engage him, Gaston maintained a stoic silence, as if acknowledging her would be a waste of his precious time.

…And in truth, it might have been.

As they were all in the Maginasium, the echo of the class bell rang out, signaling the commencement of their lesson. The instructor stepped forward and gave a brief greeting.

“Today, we will be delving into the fundamentals of magic, focusing specifically on one of the four core elements: fire. We’ll be learning how to cast, control, and extinguish fire magic,” she announced. Her gaze swept across the students before settling on Gaston. “Mister Gaston, please come forward and demonstrate the basic Fire spell, along with its control and reversal.”

“Yes, ma’am… Fire & Remote Control.”

Gaston stepped confidently to the front of the hall. To his classmates’ amazement, his movements were precise and practiced, and as he invoked the spell, the flame danced smoothly into being. When he extinguished the fire with equal finesse, the instructor began to applaud, her applause quickly joined by the rest of the students.

All, that is, except for Irene and a bespectacled student with a sullen expression.

“Mister Gaston’s spellcasting is truly impressive,” the instructor remarked, prompting Irene’s eyebrow to twitch.

“That’s something I can’t just overlook,” Irene muttered under her breath, folding her arms and fixing Gaston with a steely glare.

Unperturbed by Irene’s obvious discontent, the instructor turned her attention to the next student.

“Moving on… Mister Billy, please.”

The young man who had remained silent and unengaged during Gaston’s demonstration now stepped forward.

Billy, with a tense, anxious expression, took Gaston’s place.

“……Fire & Remote Control.”

Billy’s invocation was noticeably slower than Gaston’s, each motion heavy with concentration. The extinguishing phase was particularly challenging.

With some effort, however, Billy managed to quell the fire, wiping the sweat from his brow as he returned to his place in the formation.

“Heh! Next is me–“

“–Next, Miss Melchi, please.”

Despite her striking a confident pose, Irene was overlooked, and the instructor moved on to the next student in line. Irene’s turn did not come until much later — the very end, in fact.

“And now, last but not least… Miss Irene, please.”

“Hah! Looks like you’ve saved the best for last! Excellent choice!”

Irene struck striking another dramatic pose and pointed triumphantly at the instructor, who responded with a warm, approving smile.

“Hmph, watch this! Fire & Remote Control!”

Her spellcasting was swift, a blur of motion that rivaled Gaston’s speed but carried with it a vibrant, almost reckless intensity.

Flames erupted with a fierce crackle, and when she finished, extinguishing the blaze with a forceful gesture, Irene was enveloped in a wave of applause.

The clapping was more enthusiastic than before, with one extra clap that marked Gaston’s addition — he had joined in while Irene had remained silent during his demonstration.

–Break Time.

As the students began to disperse and make their way back to the classroom, Irene seized the opportunity to approach Gaston once more.

To her surprise, it was he who spoke first.

“So… you’re Irene, right?”

“Huh? Y-Yes, I am the awesome Irene, the one and only!”

“I don’t know which ‘awesome’ Irene you’re claiming to be, but your spellcasting earlier was impressive. It had a raw intensity I lack.”

“Really? I just like casting spells with a ‘shpeen!’ sound.”

“Oh-ho… Did you have an exceptional teacher, then? I’ve heard that mages often mimic the style of their mentors.”

Irene tilted her head, carefully considering the question. 

“Of course! I aspire to be like the War Demon Emperor, Master Sagan!” Irene proclaimed. “…Well, I mean, that’s a work in progress…” she then admitted, her voice trailing off as her confidence faltered upon remembering Sagan’s larger-than-life demonstrations.

Sagan’s spellcasting was renowned for its finesse and subtlety — to which Gaston’s resembled — qualities that stood in stark contrast to Irene’s more bombastic flair.

“Hmm? I remember Master Sagan’s spells being much more refined…” Gaston mused, tilting his head.

Irene’s memories of spellcasting were not solely shaped by Sagan. The first spell to truly captivate her had been performed by Asley, though the exact details eluded her now, blurred by God’s partial suppression of her memories.

“Huh… that doesn’t sound right… Oh well, I guess I still have a lot to learn!”

“Heh, you’re a funny girl,” Gaston chuckled, his laughter a deep, rumbling sound that contrasted with Irene’s high, clear giggles.

Their laughter filled the hall, the sound mingling and echoing off the walls.

This moment marked the beginning of the camaraderie between Irene, who would later earn the title of the Invincible Sprout, and Gaston, the future Great Mage of Flame.

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A week had slipped by since their enrollment at the Magic University, and already Irene and Gaston had become nearly inseparable. Their shared talents and competitive spirits made them perfect rivals.

During a break between classes, the two sat together, their conversation turning towards an adventurous topic.

“Monster hunting? Are you serious, Irene?” Gaston asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“Absolutely! School is off tomorrow, so we can sneak out of the dorms and head to the Adventurers’ Guild!”

“If Professor Tangalán catches us, we’ll be in for it. Just last week, a sophomore got hit with this nasty spell…”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it! What’s the matter, Gaston? Are you scared of monsters?”

With a challenging grin, Irene placed her hands on her hips.

“It’s not the monsters I’m afraid of, but the strict instructors. But fine. I do have a spell I want to test. When do we go?”

“Tonight, of course!”

Irene crossed her arms and smirked.

Gaston snorted.

“But two mages might not be enough to react if things go south.”

“Not confident?”

“It’s about survival.”

“…Fine. Who should we invite? Most freshmen wouldn’t be able to keep up… Maybe Billy or Melchi will do.”

Gaston smirked.

“So you do pay attention. I was thinking of Billy.”

“…Why not Melchi?”

Gaston’s gaze shifted to the side.

“Maybe you should be asking ‘why Billy?'”

“Ugh, you’re impossible. Well, let’s hear it, then — Why Billy?”

“Because of the healing magic class on the second day. You noticed, didn’t you?”

“I guess.”

“Melchi’s invocations are still unstable. She’ll get better eventually, but for now, we need someone with reliable magic.”

“So, Billy it is.”

Gaston’s expression softened into one of approval, and Irene promptly left her seat to approach Billy, who was engrossed in his textbook and preparing for the next class.

“Billy, wanna hang out?”

“…Sorry, but I’d prefer someone taller and bigger.”

“What!? No, that’s not it! We need to talk to you!”

Billy sighed at her outburst but stopped short when he saw Gaston standing behind her.

“……I see. This might be fun,” Billy finally said, a trace of intrigue in his voice.

Gaston and Irene, the stars of the class, had approached Billy with a proposition. The mere fact of their attention was enough to sway him — How could young Billy resist?

Once in the hallway, away from prying eyes, the trio huddled together, their voices dropping to hushed, conspiratorial tones.

“Gaston and I are planning to regularly visit the Adventurers’ Guild starting tonight.”

“Oh? And you’re inviting me as well? Why?”

“Because you’re good at that swish-swish-woosh-woosh!”

“……”

Billy stared at her, utterly speechless, his mouth hanging slightly open.

“You don’t actually think that’s a persuasive argument, do you?” Gaston interjected, his tone dry and precise.

Irene looked genuinely bewildered by the criticism.

Gaston and Billy exchanged a glance.

And then…

“”HAHAHAHAHAHA!!””

They burst into laughter, the sound echoing down the corridor and spilling back into the classroom.

Irene, still confused, demanded,

Irene, still perplexed by their reaction, demanded,

“Hey, what are you laughing at? Explain it to me!”

“Hahaha! Tell her, Gaston!”

“…Heh! Sish-swish-woosh-woosh!” Gaston managed through his laughter.

The two young men, somewhere in the transition between boyhood and adulthood, continued to laugh heartily.

Irene’s expression shifted from confusion to realization.

Now she was in the prestigious Magic University, where ‘swish-swish-woosh-woosh’ was not a real magical phrase.

“……!”

Blushing furiously, Irene stomped her foot in frustration, her embarrassment only fueling Gaston and Billy’s amusement.

They laughed even harder, as if she were a small, adorable creature throwing a tantrum.

“C’mon, stop it already! Gaston, explain to Billy! And you — stop laughing!”

Eventually, a teary-eyed Gaston explained the plan to an equally teary-eyed Billy. Meanwhile, Irene stood fuming, her arms crossed and her face still burning red.

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