Warning: There's a One-in-Three Chance a Draft Notice Is About to Be Issued

Chapter 22

The air in the reception room was so taut it felt ready to burst.

Yet the house's owner, Count Corinth, was utterly relaxed.

He savored the aroma of his tea and began summing up the topic they'd just been discussing.

"So... to sum it up, then."

Clink.

"So, the three great minds of the Empire and the Imperial Academy came all the way to this humble place to fight over my no-good son and each try to take him away. Is that correct?"

"A no-good son? Not at all! Nothing of the sort!"

Professor Wilhelm was the first to leap in.

He thumped his chest with a massive fist.

"Count! Why did you keep your son hidden all this time? The insight he showed in tactics class struck this old man's heart right here!"

"Insight, you say. From that lazy brat?"

"Lazy? That's proof the wildness is still alive in him! He's like an untamed wild horse!"

Wilhelm went on passionately.

"I'll take responsibility and bring him in. Let him serve under me for three years—no, just one—and I'll turn him into an excellent asset for the Empire! A real man only becomes a proper man after sweating and rolling around in the dirt, wouldn't you say?"

Iris caught Corinth's eyebrow twitch.

'Make him into a person.'

What an appealing offer.

Although Iris had never borne a child, if she tried to infer Corinth's feelings by imagining that the heart of a teacher looking at her was probably the heart of a parent...

Count Corinth Del Farne must surely be feeling curious right now.

'No... it looks like the Count likes that offer...!'

The military, of all things.

To think she'd have to lose a kindred spirit she thought she'd never meet in her lifetime to that sweat-soaked military brass.

Then, seizing the opening, Viscountess Müller swooped in.

"Professor Wilhelm, your words are certainly understandable, but what century do you think this is? Why are you coming on so macho?"

"Hah. What's wrong with shaping a man into a man?"

"Student Cassian seems happiest when he's touching soil. Rather than forcing him into soldiering when it doesn't suit him, isn't supporting your child's happiness the real parent thing to do?"

Viscountess Müller said with a confident expression.

"Besides, herbology makes money. You know that, don't you, Count? Our family owns one of the most influential merchant houses in the capital."

"Of course. I've heard plenty about your business acumen."

"If Student Cassian wants it, after graduation I'll take him on as a partner in my merchant house and even list him as a director. Depending on his performance, I'll treat him like a true partner, in an absurdly generous arrangement that includes shares. With your son's talent, he could mine gold out of dirt."

"Oh?"

Corinth's eyes slowly curved.

A future where he could make use of his talents and still amass immense wealth.

That was another sweet offer hard to refuse.

Iris's mental state was starting to get scratched up.

'That's right... the Müller viscount family owns a famous merchant house in the capital.'

The fact that the source of that massive funding was the herb farm Viscountess Müller personally ran struck her painfully anew.

Magic? Honor?

They're all fine. But let's think like a cold, practical parent.

I'll fix your child's character vs. I'll build wealth based on your child's talent.

Compared to that, the offer to 'teach him a bit of magic' was far too flimsy.

There was only one area where she clearly had an edge over the other two.

Overwhelming prestige.

However, in Iris's opinion, Count Farne didn't seem particularly interested in boosting the family's prestige through his son.

Cold sweat ran down Iris's spine.

'...I'm doomed. My card is the weakest.'

She bit her lip, anxious.

'I should've made a scene at the faculty meeting if I had to, just to get Cassian his lab key sooner.'

But assigning a private lab required a faculty council vote, so it took time.

If she'd known this would happen, she should've tossed decorum aside, kicked up a ruckus, and pushed it through so Cassian's formal entry into her faction could've been completed yesterday.

In truth, Iris hadn't been dragging her feet.

It was just that Cassian's unbelievably irresistible charm, enough to ensnare three professors at once, was ridiculous.

No matter how much she blamed herself, the carriage had already left.

She couldn't think of any clever move to turn the tables here and now.

Corinth set down his teacup and came to a decision.

"All three of you make sense. They're all offers too good to throw away."

He paused for a moment, then declared with his trademark leisurely smile.

"You can simply make those offers to my son."

"...Pardon?"

Wilhelm's eyes went round.

"You're saying you'll leave the choice to your son?"

"Yes. He's not yet a child burdened with the duties of an heir, after all—it's his own life. I'd like to hear his own opinion."

Corinth leaned back in his chair.

"If my son can't make up his mind, then I shall judge as the head of the house—and as his father."

"Hmm. Fair enough."

Wilhelm nodded, looking confident.

Viscountess Müller also smiled with ease.

"Reasonable. I believe Student Cassian will make a wise choice."

Iris let out a small sigh of relief.

'Yeah, this is better, at least.'

Let's think about Cassian's personality.

He's lazy. He hates anything troublesome.

'At least I'm better than the military.'

Roll him around in the dirt?

He'd surely panic and run. Professor Wilhelm's offer was out first.

The problem was Viscountess Müller.

The lure of farming and money.

This one was a little dangerous.

Before Professor Wilhelm came over, she'd spent hours in heated discussion with Viscountess Müller over who should be the one to take Cassian, and she'd heard enough to know that his liking for touching soil was probably genuine.

And it seemed to be true.

'I hope he doesn't fall for it...'

Iris fidgeted nervously with her fingers.

That was when it happened.

Knock, knock.

"Head of the house, I've brought young Master Cassian."

Alfred's voice came from outside the door.

A deep smile spread across Corinth's lips.

"Tell him to come in."

* * *

The heat in the reception room.

The tension was so taut it stung the skin, like a lion, a tiger, and a grizzly bear trapped in the same cage and growling at one another.

Of course, one of the three was in full-on panic mode, glancing around nervously.

And in the middle of it all, my father, savoring his tea with the utmost leisure.

Every time this happens, I'm reminded that my father is on a whole other level. Different caliber entirely.

I wiped my face once and shamelessly asked, as if recapping what I'd just been told,

"So, all three of you want to take me on as your disciple?"

I really didn't think it would actually turn out this way.

I offer my sincere apologies to the me from a few minutes ago who slapped my own cheek and thought it was just my overinflated ego.

Sorry, my cheek.

So I'd really become the adults' darling.

Iris, sitting at the end of the sofa, flinched the moment she saw me.

She was desperately trying to keep a poker face, but the fingertips gripping her teacup had gone white.

Her red eyes darted nervously toward me.

'...Honestly, that woman.'

Is she really that bad at self-awareness?

Objectively speaking, Iris was by far the top choice as a teacher.

The sole disciple of the Empire's greatest mage.

Where could you even buy a title like that? Who could you possibly compete with?

'Of course, not to me, though.'

Ah.

Maybe she's acting like that because she instinctively knows it won't work on me at all?

Then I almost feel bad for her. She doesn't seem like the type who should have to endure this kind of treatment.

But I didn't have the luxury of tending to Iris's mental state right now.

"Hmm."

Because my father, Corinth, sitting in the seat of honor, had an ominous look in his eyes.

He kept a poker face while looking at Professor Wilhelm, Viscountess Müller, and Professor Iris, but I can tell.

He was having a very good time.

Beep-beep.

Warning: there's a one-in-three chance a draft notice is about to be issued.

'Damn, we're screwed.'

If I stupidly said, "Why don't we all talk it over?" here, I wouldn't be able to eliminate that one-in-three chance.

Besides.

'If I were my father, I'd probably want to draft me too.'

He's dead serious about making me a functioning human being, after all.

I had to smash the whole setup.

Okay.

Cut the momentum and pick them off one by one.

I made a polite request to my father.

"Father, if this is something I'm allowed to decide, I'd like to meet each of them one-on-one."

"One-on-one?"

"Yes. They're the Empire's greatest minds, after all. Wouldn't it be rude for some nobody student like me to gather the professors together and weigh them up like merchandise?"

The justification was perfect.

Etiquette.

That damned formality nobles live and die by.

Father thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Makes sense."

And with that came a sharp glance that swept over me.

I could see him swallowing the words, 'I didn't know you'd show that kind of attitude in a place like this.'

Ugh.

What a life, being a son people distrust this much.

Father set down his teacup and stood.

"Fine. Then we'll do that. Considering age, how about speaking with Professor Wilhelm first?"

"Good! It's best when real men can speak openly!"

Wilhelm laughed heartily and slapped his knee.

Look at that confidence. He's already appointed me adjutant.

Viscountess Müller also shrugged and agreed, and Iris... well, she had no choice, so she nodded.

"Then the two of you, if you would, come with me to my study for a moment. Let's have another cup of tea."

Father led Iris and Müller out.

Click.

The door closed, and the reception room was left with just Wilhelm and me.

Silence flowed.

Professor Wilhelm looked me up and down, then clicked his tongue in blatant satisfaction.

"Ah, the more I look, the more I want you. Those eyes! Full of rebellion, yet still carrying that weariness of someone who can't be bothered by anything in the world! That's exactly the wildness!"

"...Is that a compliment?"

"It's high praise! These days' dandies have no bite in their eyes, no bite! On the battlefield, the ones with that glazed look like yours are the most dangerous."

I don't think so.

I'm just tired of everything.

This old man had it bad. Really bad.

"Now, no need for long-winded talk. Come serve under me."

Wilhelm pointed at me with a thick finger.

"That insight of yours. That famous 'Who's going to raise the cattle?' line! That strategic vision that spans supply and economics! Isn't it too precious to waste?"

Why the hell is he so hung up on that stale, rotten joke?

...Ah. Because he's old.

Damn. That's on me.

"You're overpraising me. I'm just a country bumpkin who happened to know that."

"And modest too! I truly can't fathom why such absurdly bad rumors are attached to you!"

This is driving me insane.

I let out a long sigh and sank deep into the sofa.

Straight talk wouldn't work on this guy.

'I hate the military!' and he'd say, 'The military will make a man out of you.'

'It's hard!' and he'd say, 'You have to overcome it.'

"You must become a soldier."

Professor Wilhelm's eyes blazed.

Even a general who'd spotted the enemy commander on the battlefield would be less fired up than this.