Chapter 4: “Master”

He turned three.

Recently, I finally learned my parents’ names.

My father is Paul Greyrat.

My mother is Zenith Greyrat.

And I am Rudeus Greyrat.

The eldest son of the Greyrat family.

Although I was named Rudeus,

neither my father nor mother ever calls the other by their full name,

and they always shorten mine to “Rudy,”

so it took me a while to remember the proper names.

—

“My, my, Rudy really likes books, doesn’t he?”

Zenith said that with a smile

when she saw me constantly carrying books around.

They never scolded me for holding books.

I always set them aside during meals,

and I made sure never to read the magic textbook in front of the family.

It wasn’t exactly a case of “a capable hawk hides its talons,”

but I still didn’t know what position magic occupied in this world.

In my previous life, during the Middle Ages there had been witch hunts.

Magic users were branded heretics and burned at the stake.

Surely in a world where practical books on magic exist,

magic itself isn’t considered heretical,

but it might still earn disapproving looks.

There could be a common belief that magic should only be learned as an adult.

After all, overusing it can cause fainting—

it’s dangerous enough that people might think it hinders growth.

With that in mind, I kept my magic use hidden from the family.

That said, I had once fired magic out the window,

so they might already know.

It couldn’t be helped—I wanted to test how fast I could launch projectiles.

The maid (apparently named Lilia) sometimes gives me sharp looks,

but since my parents remain as carefree as ever,

I want to believe everything is fine.

If they try to stop me, that’s fine too,

but if there really is a growth period for this,

I don’t want to miss it.

Talent rusts if you don’t develop it when the opportunity arises.

I have to use as much as I can while I still can.

—

My secret special magic training (lol) came to an abrupt end.

It was one afternoon.

My mana pool had grown considerably by then,

so with lighthearted curiosity I decided to try an intermediate spell—

the Water Cannon technique.

I set size to 1 and velocity to 0.

As usual, I expected only a bucketful of water to accumulate.

Maybe a slight overflow at most.

An enormous volume of water erupted,

blasting a massive hole straight through the wall.

I stared blankly

as water droplets dripped from the jagged edges onto the floor.

Even in my daze, I didn’t think of any way to fix it.

The wall was clearly destroyed—

there was no hiding that magic had been used.

It was inevitable.

I give up quickly.

“What happened?! Whoa—!”

Paul was the first to burst in.

When he saw the gaping hole in the wall,

his mouth fell open in shock.

“Wait, hey, what the hell is this… Rudy, are you okay…?”

Paul really is a good guy.

No matter how you look at it, I’m obviously the culprit,

yet he’s worried about my safety.

Even now he’s muttering things like

“A monster…? No, there shouldn’t be any around here…”

while cautiously scanning the surroundings.

“My, my…”

Zenith entered the room next.

She was far calmer than her husband.

She surveyed the broken wall, the puddle on the floor,

and so on in order.

Then—

“…Oh?”

Her sharp eyes stopped on the open page of the magic textbook in front of me.

She compared me to the book,

then crouched down in front of me

and met my gaze with a gentle expression.

Terrifying.

Her eyes aren’t smiling at all.

I desperately forced my gaze to stay on Zenith

instead of swimming away.

I learned this during my NEET days:

if you do something wrong and then get defensive or sulky,

the situation only gets worse.

So never look away.

What’s needed in moments like this is sincerity.

Simply holding eye contact without averting it

makes you appear sincere on the surface,

no matter what you’re thinking inside.

“Rudy… did you perhaps read this book out loud?”

“I’m sorry.”

I gave a small nod and apologized.

When you’ve done something wrong,

it’s best to admit it cleanly.

No one else could have done it.

Lies that are immediately exposed only destroy trust.

In my previous life I piled up small lies like that and lost all credibility.

I won’t make the same mistake.

“No, wait—you—this is intermediate-level…”

“Kyaa! Did you hear that, dear?! Our child really is a genius after all!”

Zenith cut Paul off with a delighted shriek.

She clenched both fists and bounced up and down happily.

So energetic.

My apology is being ignored?

“No, hold on—you—we haven’t even taught him to read yet—”

“We have to hire a tutor right away! He’s definitely going to become an amazing magician in the future!”

Paul looked bewildered,

while Zenith was overjoyed.

Apparently Zenith was so thrilled that I could use magic

that she couldn’t contain herself.

My worry that children weren’t supposed to use magic

turned out to be completely unfounded.

Lilia had already begun cleaning up silently and calmly.

She had probably either known or at least suspected

that I could use magic.

Since it wasn’t anything bad,

she simply hadn’t made a fuss about it.

Or perhaps she wanted to see my parents’ joyful reaction?

“Dear, let’s post a recruitment notice in Roa tomorrow!

We have to nurture his talent!”

Zenith was excitedly chattering on her own

about genius this and talent that.

Just because I suddenly unleashed intermediate magic,

she calls me a genius.

I can’t tell whether this is parental bias

or whether using intermediate magic at this age really is impressive.

No—it’s definitely parental bias.

I had never once shown any sign of using magic in front of Zenith.

Yet she said “after all”—

which means she had already believed I might be a genius for some time.

Without any real basis…

Ah. Wait.

I do have an idea why.

I talk to myself a lot.

Even while reading, I tend to mutter favorite words or phrases under my breath.

Since coming to this world,

I continued muttering to myself while reading books.

At first it was in Japanese,

but after I learned the language here,

I unconsciously switched to the local tongue.

Whenever Zenith overheard me,

she would say things like

“Rudy, that means———”

and teach me the meaning of the words.

Thanks to that, I picked up quite a few proper nouns from this world.

No one ever commented on it,

but I had taught myself to read this world’s writing system.

No one had taught me the language either.

From my parents’ perspective,

their son could read without being taught

and could even speak the contents of books aloud.

Of course they thought I was a genius.

Even I would think my own child was a genius if they did that.

In my previous life, when my little brother was born,

it was the same.

He developed faster than me or my older brother in everything.

Speaking, walking on two legs—everything came earlier.

Parents are so carefree—

every time their child does something,

they happily declare “Isn’t our child a genius?”

no matter how ordinary it actually is.

Well, even though I was a high-school-dropout NEET trash in my previous life,

my mental age was over thirty.

It would be frustrating if they didn’t think at least that highly of me.

Ten times over—ten times!

“Dear, a tutor! In Roa we’re sure to find a wonderful magic teacher!”

And so, the moment they see potential talent,

parents everywhere try to shove elite education onto their children.

My own parents in my previous life did the same with my brother—

showering him with lessons and activities.

Thus Zenith proposed hiring a magic tutor.

But Paul opposed it.

“Wait—didn’t we agree that if it was a boy, he’d become a swordsman?”

If it was a boy, he would wield a sword;

if a girl, she would learn magic.

They had made that arrangement before the birth.

“But he can cast intermediate magic at this age! If we train him, he could become an incredible mage!”

“An agreement is an agreement!”

“What kind of agreement?! You’re always breaking promises yourself!”

“That has nothing to do with this right now!”

Right there, the couple began arguing.

Lilia continued cleaning calmly.

“Why not have him study magic in the morning

and learn the sword in the afternoon?”

The argument continued for a while,

but when Lilia finished cleaning

and proposed that solution with a sigh,

the quarrel subsided.

And so, foolish parents force lessons onto their child without considering his feelings.

Well, I’ve already decided to live seriously,

so it’s fine.

—

And that’s how our household came to employ one tutor.

Apparently the job of tutoring noble children pays quite well.

Since Paul is one of the few knights in this area

and technically counts as a low-ranking noble,

he could apparently offer pay in line with the going rate.

However, this is the remote countryside at the edge of the country—

a true frontier.

Excellent talent is scarce here;

even magicians are almost nonexistent.

Even if they posted requests at the Magic Guild and Adventurers’ Guild,

there was doubt whether anyone would respond…

Or so they worried,

but apparently someone was found immediately

and would begin tomorrow.

Since there’s no inn in the village,

it would be a live-in position.

According to my parents’ prediction,

the tutor was most likely a retired adventurer.

A young person wouldn’t want to come to such a rural place,

and a court magician would have plenty of work in the royal capital.

In this world, only magicians of Advanced rank or higher are qualified to teach magic.

That would place the adventurer at mid-to-high rank or above.

Probably a middle-aged or elderly man

who had honed his magic skills for many years,

with a magnificent beard—the very picture of a magician.

That was the expectation.

“I’m Roxy. Pleased to meet you.”

Contrary to all predictions,

the one who arrived was a young girl.

Probably around middle-school age.

She wore a brown robe typical of magicians.

Her light-blue hair was braided,

and her small stature suited the word “petite” perfectly.

She carried only a single bag

and a staff that screamed “magician.”

The entire family of three came out to greet her.

When my parents saw her,

they were so shocked they couldn’t speak.

Understandable.

She was completely different from what they imagined.

Since this was a tutor they were hiring,

they had pictured someone of considerable age.

Not someone so tiny.

Of course, for someone who has played countless games,

the existence of a loli magician is nothing strange.

Loli, half-lidded eyes, expressionless.

With all three traits揃った, she was perfect.

I want her as my wife.

“U-um, you’re… the tutor?”

“Th-that’s, uh, quite…”

Since my parents were struggling to speak,

I decided to say it bluntly for them.

“You’re small.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you.”

She shot back sharply.

A complex, perhaps?

I wasn’t talking about her chest, though.

Roxy let out a single sigh.

“Well then… which one is the student I’ll be teaching?”

She glanced around and asked.

“Ah, that would be this child.”

Zenith, holding me in her arms, introduced me.

I gave a cute wink.

Roxy’s eyes widened for a moment,

then she sighed again.

“Haa… there are parents like this sometimes,

who see their child develop a little early

and immediately convince themselves the kid’s a genius…”

She muttered under her breath.

I can hear you, Roxy-san!

Well, I actually agree with her pretty strongly.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. However—I doubt your child can understand magical theory?”

“It’s fine! Our little Rudy is incredibly gifted!”

Zenith’s doting-parent remark.

Roxy sighed once more.

“Haa… understood. I’ll do what I can.”

She apparently decided arguing was pointless.

And so, mornings would be Roxy’s lessons,

and afternoons would be sword training with Paul.

—

“Now then… we’ll use this magic textbook… no, first let’s test how much magic Rudy can actually use.”

For the first lesson, Roxy took me out to the garden.

Magic lessons are apparently held mainly outdoors.

She clearly understood what happens when you unleash magic indoors.

Unlike me, she doesn’t blow holes in walls.

“Here’s a demonstration.

May the great blessing of water be upon what thou seekest.

Let the refreshing stream flow here and now—Water Ball!”

Along with Roxy’s chant,

a basketball-sized water orb formed in her palm.

It flew at high speed toward one of the garden trees

and—

Crack!

Snapped the trunk cleanly in two,

then drenched the fence.

Size about 3, velocity about 4, I’d guess.

“How was that?”

“Yes. That tree was one Mother treasured and raised carefully,

so I think Mother will be angry.”

“Eh?! Really?!”

“Without a doubt.”

Once before, when Paul had swung his sword and broken a branch,

Zenith’s fury had been terrifying.

“That’s bad… we have to do something…!”

Roxy hurried to the tree,

hoisted the fallen trunk with an “ungh!”

and, face bright red as she supported it,

“Ughhh…

O divine power, rich and fertile sustenance,

grant renewed strength to this one that has lost it—

Healing!”

Chant.

Slowly the trunk began to mend itself back to its original state.

Whoa, amazing.

For now, I’ll praise her.

“Phew.”

“Sensei can use healing magic too!”

“Eh? Y-yes. I can use it up to intermediate without issue.”

“Amazing! That’s incredible!”

“No, with proper training anyone can do this much.”

Her tone was a bit curt,

but Roxy looked pleased.

Just by saying “amazing, amazing” without any twist,

she reacted like this.

Easy.

“Now then, Rudy. Your turn.”

“Yes.”

I readied my hand…

Crap—I haven’t chanted Water Ball in almost a year. I can’t remember it.

She just said it, right? Um, um…

“Um… what was it again?”

“‘May the great blessing of water be upon what thou seekest.

Let the refreshing stream flow here and now.’”

Roxy said it flatly.

Apparently she had anticipated this.

But even hearing it once isn’t enough to memorize it.

“May the great… uh… Water Ball.”

I cut corners since I couldn’t remember.

A little smaller and a little slower than the one Roxy made.

If I made one bigger than hers, she might sulk.

I’m generous toward younger girls.

The basketball-sized water orb launched with force.

Crack crack!

The tree fell over.

Roxy watched with a complicated expression.

“You shortened the chant, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

Was that bad somehow?

Come to think of it, chantless isn’t mentioned in the textbook.

I’d been using it casually,

but maybe it’s actually some kind of taboo…

Or perhaps someone like me skipping the chant is considered presumptuous…

In that case, should I push back with “Who cares about that lame chant anyway”?

“Do you always shorten your chants?”

“Usually… I don’t use them at all.”

I hesitated but answered honestly.

Since I’ll be learning from her from now on,

she’ll find out eventually anyway.

“No chant at all!? …I see. Usually none. I understand. Do you feel fatigued?”

Roxy looked genuinely shocked

but quickly composed herself.

“No, I’m fine.”

“I see. The size and power are both excellent.”

“Thank you.”

Only then did Roxy finally smile.

A sly grin.

And she muttered,

“…This one looks like he’ll be worth training.”

I can hear you.

“Now then, let’s move on to the next spell—”

“Aaaahhh!”

Just as Roxy excitedly opened the textbook,

a scream rang out.

It was Zenith, who had come to check on us.

She dropped the tray of drinks she was carrying,

covered her mouth with both hands,

and stared at the broken tree with a sorrowful expression.

The next instant, anger filled her face.

Ah, this is bad.

Zenith marched over and confronted Roxy.

“Roxy-san! You!

Don’t use our tree as an experiment dummy!”

“Eh?! But this was Rudy who—”

“Even if Rudy did it, you’re the one who let him!”

Roxy looked as though lightning had struck behind her—

you could almost hear the “Gaan” sound effect.

She slumped in dejection.

Well, you can’t just pin the blame on a three-year-old.

“…You’re right.”

“Don’t ever do this again!”

“Yes… I’m very sorry, Madam…”

Afterward, Zenith elegantly restored the garden tree with Healing

and returned inside.

“I failed right on the first day…”

“Sensei…”

“Haha… guess I’ll be fired tomorrow…”

Roxy sat on the ground,

looking ready to start drawing in the dirt with her finger.

She’s surprisingly fragile…

I patted her shoulder gently.

“…”

“…Rudy?”

I patted her,

but after nearly twenty years of barely talking to people,

I couldn’t find comforting words.

Sorry. I don’t know what to say in times like this…

No—calm down.

Think, think. What would an eroge protagonist do in this situation?

Right—something like this.

“Sensei, you didn’t fail just now.”

“R-Rudy…?”

“You gained experience.”

Roxy looked up at me sharply.

“Y-Yes… that’s right. Thank you.”

“Yes. Then please continue the lesson.”

And so, from the very first day,

I managed to get a little closer to Roxy.

—

Afternoons were training with Paul.

Since there was no wooden sword sized for my body,

the focus was mainly on physical conditioning.

Running, push-ups, sit-ups, and so on.

Paul apparently planned to start with simply moving the body.

Even on days when Paul’s work kept him from teaching,

he ordered me to do basic physical training every single day without fail.

That part seems to be the same in every world.

I’ll do my best.

A child’s stamina can’t handle full-afternoon training,

so sword practice ends by mid-afternoon.

Therefore, until dinner time,

I use up my mana to the limit.

Magic consumption changes depending on “altering size.”

If doing nothing special during the chant is 1,

the larger you make it, the exponentially greater the mana cost becomes.

Something like the law of conservation of mass.

However, strangely,

making it smaller also increases mana consumption.

I don’t understand that theory.

Creating a single drop of water consumes far more mana

than creating a fist-sized water ball.

It’s bizarre.

When I asked Roxy about it since I’d wondered for a while,

she simply replied “That’s just how it is.”

Apparently it hasn’t been explained.

I don’t understand the mechanism.

But for training purposes, that specification isn’t bad.

Lately my total mana has increased quite a bit,

so unless I use large-scale magic, I can’t fully deplete it.

If I just want to use mana,

I could blast at maximum output until I collapse.

But it’s about time to build practical application.

So I decided to practice the finest, most detailed work possible.

Using magic to perform small, intricate, complex tasks.

For example, sculpting statues out of ice,

lighting a flame on my fingertip to write letters on a board,

bringing soil from the garden and sorting its components…

I even tried locking and unlocking padlocks.

Earth magic apparently has some effect on metals and minerals too.

However, the harder the metal,

the greater the mana consumption.

Changing hard materials really is difficult.

The smaller the target I’m manipulating becomes,

and the more finely, complexly, accurately, and quickly I try to move it,

the more enormous the mana cost grows.

Throwing a baseball with full power

consumes roughly the same mana

as slowly threading a needle through the eye.

I also tried using different elements simultaneously.

Compared to using the same element at once,

it consumes more than three times the mana.

In other words,

by activating two different elements at the same time

and controlling them small, fine, fast, and precise,

I could easily exhaust my mana completely.

I continued that routine every day.

Eventually, even after using such magic for more than half a day,

I could no longer see the bottom of my pool.

I started feeling like “this is probably enough.”

My lazy side began whispering “Isn’t this good enough already?”

Each time, I scolded myself.

Even with muscle training,

if you slack off even a little, your body dulls.

Mana might be the same.

Just because it increased temporarily doesn’t mean I can neglect training.

And so on.

—

One night while I was using magic,

a creaking, moaning, lascivious sound began drifting from somewhere.

There’s no question where it came from—Paul and Zenith’s bedroom.

They sure are passionate.

It won’t be long before I have a little brother or sister.

I’d prefer a sister.

Yeah. No brothers.

In my mind remains the image of my little brother taking a full swing with a bat at my beloved PC.

I don’t want a brother.

I want a cute little sister.

“Yare yare daze…”

In my previous life, whenever I heard such lewd noises,

I would immediately wall-bang or floor-bang to shut them up.

Thanks to that, my sister stopped bringing men home.

Nostalgic.

Back then, people doing that kind of thing

felt like arch-villains blackening my world.

It felt as though the bullies who tormented me

were sneering down at me from a realm I could never reach,

and helpless rage would surge.

The very ones who had plunged me into darkness and misery

were looking down saying “You’re still in a place like that?”

Nothing could be more frustrating.

But lately it’s different.

Perhaps because my body is a child’s,

because it’s my parents doing it,

or because I’m finally working toward my future.

Whatever the reason,

I now listen to their lovemaking with a warm, fond feeling.

Heh. I’ve grown up too, huh…

Listening to the sounds alone,

I can somehow guess what’s happening.

Apparently Paul is quite skilled.

Zenith is already gasping and on the verge of knockout,

yet Paul keeps saying “We’re just getting started~”

and continues his assault.

He’s like the protagonist of a rape-themed eroge.

Bottomless stamina…

Wait—could it be that I, as Paul’s son,

have inherited that same power in my lower half!?

Awaken already.

Heroines, come quickly!

Give me some pink developments too!

At first I was excited,

but lately I’ve grown accustomed to it.

I now walk calmly through the creaking hallway to the toilet.

By the way, whenever I pass their door,

the creaking stops abruptly—so it’s actually kind of funny.

That day too, I headed to the toilet

to remind them that their son who can now walk exists.

Let’s see—maybe I’ll say something today.

“Dad, Mom, what are you doing naked?” or something.

I’m looking forward to their excuses. Hehehe…

Thinking such things, I quietly left my room.

There was already someone there.

A blue-haired girl was sitting in the dark hallway,

peeking through the gap in the door into the bedroom.

Her cheeks were flushed,

her breathing slightly ragged as she tried to suppress it,

yet her gaze was glued to the depths of the room.

Her hand had slipped beneath her robe and was moving in small, quick motions.

I quietly returned to my room.

Roxy is a girl at that age, after all.

I still have enough decency to pretend I saw nothing.

…Just kidding.

Man, what a sight.

—

About four months passed.

I became able to use magic up to intermediate level.

So nighttime study sessions with Roxy began.

Wait—no, “nighttime” doesn’t mean anything erotic.

We mostly studied trivia and general knowledge.

Roxy is a good teacher.

She never clings rigidly to a curriculum.

She escalates the lesson content according to my level of understanding.

Her adaptability to the student is excellent.

She asks questions from the prepared textbooks,

and if I can answer, we move on.

If I can’t, she explains carefully.

That’s all it is,

yet I felt the world expanding.

In my previous life, when my older brother was preparing for entrance exams,

we hired a tutor for a while.

Once, out of curiosity, I asked about the lessons.

But they weren’t much different from regular school classes.

In comparison, Roxy’s lessons are clear and interesting.

Every strike hits the mark.

Also—being taught by a middle-school-aged teacher

who’s just beginning to awaken to sexuality—

the situation itself is the best.

In my previous life, that fantasy alone would have been good for three rounds.

—

“Sensei, why is all magic combat-oriented?”

“It’s not that only combat magic exists, but…”

Roxy answers even my sudden questions properly.

“Let’s see… where should I start…

First, it’s said that magic was created by the ancient long-eared race, the High Elves.”

Ooh, elves!

They really exist!

Blonde, wearing greenish clothes, carrying bows, getting wrapped in tentacles!

Whoa, calm down.

My preconceptions might be wrong.

Judging by the name, their ears are long, at least…

“What are long-eared elves?”

“Yes. The long-eared elves are a race that now lives in the northern part of the Millis Continent.

Long ago—before the Human-Demon War even began,

when the world was still chaotic and full of constant fighting—

the ancient High Elves are said to have communicated with the forest spirits

and manipulated wind and earth to fight external enemies.

That is considered the oldest magic in history.”

“Wow, it actually has a proper history.”

“Of course it does.”

Roxy nodded as though to say “Don’t make light of it.”

“The magic we use today is what the human race imitated and systematized

from the long-eared elves’ magic during the wars.

Humans are good at that sort of thing.”

“Humans are good at that?”

“Yes. Creating new things is always the work of humans.”

Humans are apparently a race that loves invention.

“The reason it seems combat-only is partly because it was mainly used in battle…

but also because, for most everyday needs,

nearby tools can achieve the same result more easily.”

“Nearby tools?”

“For example, if you need light, you can just use a candle or lantern, right?”

I see—so it’s that common trope.

Using tools is simpler than magic.

Makes sense.

Though with chantless, magic is easier than tools.

“Besides, not all magic is for combat.

With summoning magic, you can call forth magical beasts or spirits with the power you need.”

“Summoning magic! Will I learn that eventually?”

“No—I can’t use it myself.

And speaking of tools—there are also magical tools.”

Magical tools, huh.

I can roughly guess from the name.

“What are magical tools?”

“Tools crafted using mana-containing materials.

Magic circles are engraved inside them,

so even non-magicians can use them.

Of course, they need periodic mana refills.”

“I see.”

Pretty much what I imagined.

Still, it’s a shame Roxy can’t use summoning magic.

I can vaguely grasp the principles of attack and healing magic,

but summoning magic—I have no idea how it works.

A bunch of new terms just came up.

Human-Demon War. Magical beasts. Spirits…

I get the gist, but let’s ask anyway.

“Sensei, what’s the difference between magical beasts and monsters?”

“Magical beasts and monsters aren’t greatly different.

Basically, monsters are born from sudden mutations in ordinary animals.

If they’re lucky enough to increase in number,

establish themselves as a species,

and gain intelligence over generations, they become magical beasts.

That said, even if they gain intelligence,

if they attack people they’re often still called monsters.

Conversely, magical beasts can sometimes turn ferocious again over generations and revert to being called monsters.

There’s no strict dividing line.”

So—monsters attack people.

Magical beasts do not.

That’s the general understanding, right?

“Then are demons evolved magical beasts?”

“Not at all.

The term ‘demon race’ is a name that came about during the ancient war between humans and demons.”

“You mean the Human-Demon War you mentioned earlier?”

“Yes. The first war began eight thousand years ago.”

“That’s… an awfully long time ago.”

This world has quite a long history.

“It’s not actually that old.

Just four hundred years ago there was another war between humans and demons.

Ever since it began eight thousand years ago,

humans and demons have been fighting on and off the whole time.”

Four hundred years is still plenty ancient,

but to think they’ve been at war, off and on, for over seven thousand years.

They really don’t get along.

“Haa, I see. So in the end, what are demons?”

“The definition of ‘demon race’ is rather difficult,

but the easiest way to understand it is probably

‘the races that sided with the demon side in the most recent war.’

There are exceptions, but…

Ah, by the way—I’m a demon too.”

“Oh, really?”

A demon is working here as a tutor.

Which means there’s no war right now, I suppose?

Peace is best.

“Yes. Officially, I’m of the Migurd tribe from the Biegoya region of the Demon Continent.

Your parents were surprised when they saw me, right?”

“I thought it was because Sensei is small.”

“I’m not small.

They were surprised because of my hair.”

“Your hair?”

It’s beautiful light blue.

“Demons are generally said to be more ferocious and dangerous

the closer their hair color is to green.

Especially mine—depending on the light, it can look somewhat greenish…”

Green.

So that’s this world’s warning color?

Roxy’s hair is a striking, refreshing light blue.

Roxy twirled her bangs as she explained.

Her gestures are cute.

In my previous life in Japan,

light-blue hair usually meant either punk style or middle-aged ladies.

Seeing people like that only gave me a sense of unnaturalness and disgust.

But Roxy’s blue hair feels completely natural

and inspires no revulsion.

In fact, it suits her slightly sleepy eyes perfectly.

If she were an eroge heroine,

she’d be the first one I’d pursue.

“Sensei’s hair is beautiful.”

“…Thank you.

But save words like that for when you have a girl you like in the future.”

“I like you, Sensei.”

I said it without hesitation.

I don’t hesitate.

I cast my net toward every cute girl.

“I see. Then if your feelings haven’t changed in another ten or so years,

say it again.”

“Yes, Sensei.”

She brushed it off lightly,

but I didn’t miss the slightly happy expression on Roxy’s face.

I don’t know how well my eroge-honed “nice guy” skills will work in another world.

But they’re apparently not completely useless.

Lines that sound embarrassingly cheesy and clichéd in Japan

can become passionate, unique sparks of romance here.

Yeah, I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.

Roxy is cute and sexy, so I want to plant some flags.

But there’s quite an age gap.

Who knows what will happen in the future…

“Anyway, returning to the topic—

the idea that brighter colors mean more danger is completely a superstition.”

“Oh, it’s just a superstition?”

I wasted brainpower seriously thinking it was a warning color.

“Yes. There was a demon tribe in the Babinos region called the Superd,

who had green hair.

Because they went on a rampage during the war four hundred years ago,

people started saying things like that.

So hair color has nothing to do with it.”

“They went on a rampage?”

“Yes. In just a decade or so of war,

they made themselves feared and hated by every race on both sides.

After the war ended, they were persecuted so badly they were driven out of the Demon Continent.

They were considered that dangerous.”

Driven out by their own allies after the war ended, huh.

That’s intense.

“They’re hated that much…?”

“That much.”

“What did they do?”

“I don’t know the details myself…

But I heard stories as a child about them attacking allied demon villages and slaughtering women and children,

or annihilating the enemy on the battlefield and then wiping out their own allies too.

Things like that.

If you stayed up late, they said the Superd would come and eat you.”

Like the boogeyman who’ll gobble you up.

“The Migurd tribe is close to the Superd,

so we used to face strong prejudice too, I’ve heard.

Your parents might mention it to you someday…”

Roxy prefaced seriously.

“Please listen.

If you ever see a race with emerald-green hair

and a red jewel-like stone on their forehead,

never approach them under any circumstances.

Even if you have no choice but to speak with them,

do not anger them no matter what.”

Emerald-green hair, red jewel on the forehead.

Those are the characteristics of the Superd tribe.

“What happens if you anger them?”

“They might massacre your entire family.”

“Emerald-green hair and a red jewel on the forehead, right?”

“Yes. They use the one on their forehead to see the flow of mana. A third eye.”

“Are the Superd actually all female or something?”

“Eh? No? They have males too, normally.”

“Does the jewel on their forehead turn blue or something when they do stuff?”

“Eh? No, it doesn’t? At least not as far as I know.”

What are you talking about? Roxy tilted her head.

I’m satisfied having asked what I wanted to ask.

“But if they’re that conspicuous, it’s easy to spot them.”

“Yes. The moment you see one, make up some excuse and leave casually.

If you suddenly run, you might provoke them.”

Like when you see a delinquent’s face and bolt,

only to get chased and messed with anyway.

I’ve experienced it.

“Even if you talk to them, as long as you speak respectfully there’s no problem, right?”

“As long as you don’t blatantly insult them, it should be fine.

However, human common sense and demon common sense differ in many ways,

so you never know what words might set them off.

Even indirect sarcasm is better avoided.”

Hmm.

They must have an extremely short temper.

But from what she says, rather than being persecuted,

they’re more feared.

The feeling is “Don’t get near them because if you anger them it’s dangerous.”

Scary, scary.

I don’t think I can restart life after being killed two or three times.

I’ll avoid them as much as possible.

Superd tribe—dangerous.

I etched that firmly in my heart.

—

About a year passed.

Magic lessons are going smoothly.

Lately I’ve become able to handle advanced magic in every element.

Of course, chantless.

Compared to my usual training,

advanced magic feels like picking my nose.

Actually, advanced magic tends to be wide-area attacks

and doesn’t feel very practical.

Like making it rain over a huge area—what’s that even for?

…Or so I thought,

but apparently on a day of continued drought,

Roxy cast rain over the wheat fields

and received tremendous praise from the villagers.

I was at home, so I heard it from Paul.

Apparently Roxy also takes requests from villagers

and solves their problems with magic.

“While tilling the soil we found a huge rock buried there—help us, Roxy-mon!”

“Leave it to me! Don-Don-Rakō!”

“What kind of magic is that?”

“This is a hybrid spell—I wet the soil around the rock with water magic,

then turn it into mud with earth magic.”

“Wow, amazing—the rock is sinking deeper and deeper underground!”

“Ufufu~”

Something like that! (Probably)

“As expected of Sensei. You never miss a chance to help people.”

“Help people? No, this is just pocket money.”

“You charged them?”

“Of course.”

What a money-grubber.

…Or so I thought,

but apparently the villagers are fine with it.

Since no one else in the village could do such things,

Roxy is greatly admired.

Give and take, I suppose.

My sense of things was wrong.

Helping troubled people for free is natural.

That’s a Japanese sensibility.

Normally you charge money.

That’s normal. That’s common sense.

Well, in my previous life I was a shut-in,

so rather than helping troubled people,

I was the troubled one treated as a nuisance by my whole family.

Hahaha.

—

One day, I casually asked.

“Shouldn’t I call you Shishou instead of Sensei?”

Roxy immediately made a clearly displeased face.

“No. You’ll probably surpass me easily,

so it’s better not to.”

Apparently I’m talented enough to surpass Roxy.

Being evaluated like that makes me embarrassed.

“You don’t want to call someone weaker than you ‘Shishou,’ right?”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“I mind. Being called ‘Shishou’ by someone more talented than me

would be a disgrace to my life.”

Is that how it works?

“Are you saying that because you became stronger than your own Shishou?”

“Listen, Rudy.

A ‘Shishou’ is someone who says ‘I have nothing left to teach you’

while constantly sticking their nose into everything you do anyway.

An annoying existence.”

“But you wouldn’t do that, right?”

“I might.”

“Even if you did, I would respect you.”

Roxy gave me a smug, lecturing look with a proud face.

I couldn’t help smiling.

“No. If I ever become jealous of my disciple’s talent,

I don’t know what I might say.”

“For example?”

“Things like ‘filthy demon scum’

or ‘mere country bumpkin.’”

She must have been told that.

Poor thing.

Discrimination is wrong.

But hierarchical relationships are often like that.

“It’s fine if you act arrogant.”

“You can’t act arrogant just because you’re older!

A master-disciple relationship without real ability behind it is just unpleasant!”

She declared it firmly.

Her relationship with her own master must have been terrible.

And so I decided not to call Roxy “Shishou” out loud.

But in my heart,

I resolved to continue calling her Shishou forever.

Because this girl who still retains traces of childishness

teaches me things I could never understand from books alone.