Chapter 2: The Betrothal Crest

Altmegia Academy, a school for training sorcerers in the Alirium Kingdom’s capital of Artemisia, is also known as the “Sanctum of Sorcery” for its magnificent appearance.

The school building, constructed of brilliant white marble, looks as if a great temple has descended upon the earth.

Countless spires pierce the heavens, and its stained-glass windows, shimmering as they reflect the sunlight, cast a fantastical glow.

Across the vast grounds are carved magical sigils, said to have been left by the sages of old, and one can feel the entire academy suffused with a solemn magical power.

Here, an environment has been prepared where one can learn everything related to magic and sorcery, and even delve into their deepest mysteries.

Passing through the gates, a beautifully manicured garden spreads across the center of the vast grounds, with the school building towering beyond it.

Having been enrolled for a month, it was now a familiar sight that spread out before me. Outside the school building, several students were already hard at work practicing their sorcery.

One student was generating crimson fireballs from their palm, burning down one distant target after another.

Elsewhere, another was swirling currents of blue water to draw geometric arrays in the air.

Further on, a student unleashing jade-green blades of wind was slicing through a sorcery training dummy, kicking up clouds of dust. This is a typical scene at Altmegia Academy.

Once inside the building, the hallways were enveloped in the morning clamor. We made our way to our first-floor classroom with familiar steps.

Upon reaching my seat, I spoke to Jibril, who sat next to me.

“Morning, Jibril.”

She replied dispassionately, her blonde hair swaying.

“Morning, Michel.”

Jibril is a top student, enough to be at the head of our year. But she’s actually a commoner, not a noble. Outside of the academy, she works at a small café, and ever since I happened to visit and meet her there, we’ve fallen into conversation whenever we see each other.

Shortly after we exchanged greetings and took our seats, the chime signaling the start of class rang out.

The door opened quietly, and a petite woman stepped inside, the hem of her white coat swaying. It was Lafumiere-sensei—our homeroom teacher and an authority on sorcery theory.

Her jade-colored hair swayed lustrously, and a red rose brooch blooming on her left temple caught the eye. From behind a chained monocle dangling from a pointed elven ear, ash-silver eyes pierced through us.

In her hand, she held a staff of a peculiar design, with thorns encircling a purple magic stone. She wore her white coat over a black sweater, further accentuating her cool impression.

“Good morning. Let’s begin today’s lesson.”

At the crisp tap of her staff against the floor, the students’ gazes naturally turned to the front. Lafumiere-sensei smiled faintly, surveying the class through her monocle.

“Now, where did we leave off last time?”

As the teacher mumbled while flipping through the textbook, Jibril in the next seat smoothly raised her hand.

“Last time, we covered the types of sorcery and their activation.”

At the sound of Jibril’s voice, the teacher responded with a nod.

“That’s right. Thank you, Jibril.”

“Well then, today we’ll be talking about the origin of sorcery.”

Lafumiere-sensei wrote “The Origin of Sorcery” on the blackboard.

“Sorcery is a practical art, systemized by magic users from a foreign land long ago, based on their own ‘Magic.’ Its defining feature is that, with few exceptions, anyone with magical power can replicate it. In other words, anyone can attain this power through effort.”

Sensei looked at each student’s face, speaking gently.

“Now, a question. Can anyone explain the difference between ‘Magic’ and Sorcery?”

After a moment of silence, Jibril in the seat next to me smoothly raised her hand. Lafumiere-sensei nodded in satisfaction and gestured for her to speak.

“Go ahead, Jibril.”

“Yes, Sensei.”

Jibril stood up smoothly and began to spin her words in a clear voice.

“‘Magic’ is an ‘aptitude’ inherent to individuals born with magical power; it is a force directly connected to the very ‘shape’ of one’s soul. The Magic that manifests differs from person to person and is classified from the First Tier to the Fourth Tier. While it is possible to improve one’s control and output through training, it is impossible to learn the exact same Magic as another person later in life.”

As a hush fell over the classroom, Jibril paused for a beat before continuing. Her voice was as smooth and clear as flowing water.

“You’ve studied well, Jibril.”

Lafumiere-sensei nodded in satisfaction at Jibril’s explanation, then continued with a supplementary point.

“In addition, what is indispensable for the use of Magic or Sorcery is ‘magical power.’ Magical power is stored in an organ within the body called the ‘Magical Core,’ and its nature is closely tied to the user’s soul.”

Lafumiere-sensei looked out at the students as if posing a question.

“The location of the Magical Core differs by gender. For men, it exists in the lower abdomen; for women, it’s in the womb. It is an extremely important organ.”

As she explained this, Lafumiere-sensei slowly caressed her own stomach.

Lafumiere-sensei walked slowly across the podium, gathering the students’ gazes. The entire class was hanging on her every word.

“The Magical Core does not just store magical power; it is also related to the stability of the soul, emotions, and even one’s ‘connection’ with others. That is precisely why this Magical Core is so deeply ingrained in our lives, and especially in the marital system of the nobility.”

At Lafumiere-sensei’s words, the students all held their breath and listened intently.

“To be recognized as an officially married couple, you must pour your magical power into each other’s Magical Cores and manifest the ‘Betrothal Crest.’ The crest only appears when it has been suffused with a partner’s magical power, and it will surface in about two weeks. Only when the Betrothal Crest appears does the state recognize the pair as a married couple.”

A deep hush fell over the classroom. Amidst the silence, Lafumiere-sensei continued to walk slowly among the students.

“But I’ve gotten sidetracked.”

With that, Sensei slowly raised her right hand.

A faint vortex of magical power appeared above her palm and began to glow eerily. It squirmed as if it were alive, sending a faint vibration through the classroom air.

“For those of us living in the Alirium Kingdom, it is no exaggeration to say that magical power is life itself. That magical power determines an individual’s worth, builds the social order, and nurtures love. Magical power is the very foundation of this country.”

Sensei gave a small smile and returned to the podium. Her words seemed to seep into the very air of the room, resounding quietly but powerfully.

“All of you, too, here at Altmegia Academy, must polish your own magical power and strive daily to become the splendid sorcerers who will bear the future of this country on your shoulders.”

A scattered, sparse applause broke out.

“Next…”

The lesson proceeded in a calm atmosphere. All the students were taking notes with serious expressions. The sorcery class often involved practical content and discussions on crafting magical tools, and I, too, listened to the teacher’s words with a focused look.