Chapter 1
Monica Everett, a pen clenched in her right hand and a sheaf of papers in her left, had fallen asleep with her head on the desk. She awoke to the morning light streaming in through the window.
Apparently, she had once again fallen asleep without closing the curtains.
Whenever she became absorbed in calculations, she neglected the little details of daily life. The fact that she had forgotten to close the curtains meant that she must have been engrossed in calculations from before sunset yesterday until she finally nodded off.
Monica slowly raised her upper body and rubbed her eyes, only to find a streak of ink trailing along the side of her hand. Just as she suspected, when she touched her cheek, a loud voice rang out from above.
"Hey, Monica, we've got a problem! A suspicious pattern has appeared on your face! It has to be the Dark Dragon's curse. Anyone afflicted by it will have the cursed pattern spread all over their body, then writhe in agony for three days and three nights before dying! I read it in a book the other day!"
Monica moved her still-drowsy eyes to look up at the source of the noisy voice.
Golden eyes glittered down at Monica from a ceiling beam untouched by the sunlight. After she blinked several times, she could just make out the outline of a black cat blending into the darkness.
"Nero, listen, this isn't a curse..."
Monica picked up the paper on which she had been writing equations and held it up to her face.
When she held the paper beside her cheek, the same pattern appeared alongside it like a mirror image.
"I just fell asleep face-down on my half-finished equations, and the ink got on me..."
When Monica gave the paper covered in equations a little flutter, Nero the black cat, who had been looking down at her from the beam, nimbly leaped onto the desk.
Nero was no ordinary black cat. He was Monica's familiar and understood human speech. Apparently, he had recently learned to read as well, and while Monica was absorbed in her calculations, he spent his time devouring novels for entertainment.
Nero looked up at Monica from the desk and said, "What a dumb face."
"By the way, the Dark Dragon's curse can be broken with a fairy prince's kiss. Want me to try it on you?"
"Nero isn't a fairy... Ugh... I'm going to wash my face..."
＊ ＊ ＊
Monica went around behind the house and strained her small body to draw water from the well.
Waterworks technology had recently made remarkable advances, and running water had spread not only through the major cities but also to the nearby villages. But this cottage halfway up a mountain naturally had no running water.
City-bred Monica had found it inconvenient at first, but lately she had grown completely accustomed to life in these remote mountains. More than anything, she liked how quiet and uninhabited it was.
After filling a bucket with drinking water and returning inside, Monica glanced, as though suddenly reminded of it, at the full-length mirror standing in the corner of the room.
Someone had told her to take a little more care with her appearance and had forcibly brought the mirror here. It was a splendid piece, absurdly out of place in this ramshackle cottage.
Unlike a polished bronze mirror, this beautiful glass mirror backed with tin—especially one large enough to be full-length—was quite an expensive item. If a thief ever broke into the cottage, it would be the first thing they took.
Reflected in that fine mirror was a petite girl with messy hair, frail and thin. Her meager body, despite her actual age of seventeen, was deathly pale, almost like a corpse. Her dull, dry light-brown hair was loosely divided into two braids and looked more wretched than a bundle of straw. Dark circles stood out beneath her overgrown bangs. Monica suddenly remembered that she had barely slept the day before yesterday, either.
For now, she wanted some coffee to clear her head.
Monica pulled a tin of coffee beans from the desk buried beneath stacks of paper and poured them into a grinder with a rattling sound.
After confirming that the setting was adjusted for a fine grind, Monica began turning the handle around and around.
Nero leaped onto the desk and watched her with evident amusement.
"I've always wondered, but humans have weak stomachs and still crave the strangest things... Those beans have been roasted until they're pitch-black, right? They must be terribly bitter, right? Are they even good?"
"They're delicious."
Saying that, Monica took out a metal pot.
Taller and more slender than an ordinary teapot, it came apart neatly into two sections at the middle.
First, she poured water into the lower half of the pot, then set a funnel fitted with a metal filter on top. She filled it with coffee beans ground into a fine powder, then firmly fitted the upper half of the pot onto the lower half.
Monica lifted the pot and looked toward the crude hearth made of nothing more than stacked stones. With that, a thin flame sprang to life inside it.
Unlike a fire started with stacked firewood and an ember, the unnaturally thin, elongated flame showed that it had been created by magic.
Monica set the metal pot over the flame, then took some nuts from the cupboard and crunched on them. The nuts, one of her preserved foods, were already running very low.
It was just about the end of summer, so in another month the forest should be full of nuts and other tree fruits. When that happened, perhaps she could have Nero help her gather them.
As she idly considered this, the metal pot over the fire began to bubble and gurgle. Monica extinguished the flame with a glance and poured the contents of the pot into a tin mug.
In the Kingdom of Ridill, coffee was not a particularly common drink. There were several coffeehouses in the royal capital, but they were generally places for men. Women did not care much for coffee. Tea was far more common.
Monica's fondness for coffee came from her late father. He had commissioned this special metal pot from an artisan and had it made especially for her. Now it was a precious memento of him.
Monica blew gently on the tin mug, then sipped its contents little by little.
Though it was strongly bitter, the coffee, brewed in a short time, had a clean flavor without any unpleasant aftertaste. More than anything, she liked how it banished her drowsiness all at once.
"Monica, I want to try that too."
Nero skittered around on the desk, begging Monica for some coffee.
Monica dripped the small amount of coffee remaining at the bottom of her mug onto a spoon and set it in front of Nero.
She probably shouldn't have given coffee to a cat, but Nero wasn't an ordinary cat, so it would probably be fine... probably.
"Even though you said it was bitter a moment ago."
"A creature that forgets its sense of adventure will grow weak and degenerate."
"That was in a book, wasn't it?"
"Oh, Dustin Günther is the best."
After naming a popular novelist from the royal capital, Nero began licking the coffee from the spoon.
At once, every hair on his body stood on end.
"Hongyarabubbooooo!"
Nero let out a cry that no human or cat could possibly produce, then rolled around and around on the desk. Apparently, it hadn't agreed with his palate.
Nero panted heavily like a warrior returning from the brink of death, then looked up at Monica's face.
"It was a stimulating flavor brimming with adventurous spirit. Your taste buds are the strange ones, drinking this stuff like it's good."
"..."
Adding milk and sugar would make it considerably easier to drink, but both were precious in these remote mountains.
Then Monica suddenly remembered that today was the day her monthly supplies were delivered.
Extremely shy and poor at shopping in stores, Monica had asked people from the village at the foot of the mountain to deliver food and other necessities. There would probably be milk among them.
Sugar too... Refined white sugar was out of the question, but if she asked, they might be willing to share some honey. Beekeeping flourished in this region, so honey was relatively easy to obtain.
Opinions differed on the combination of honey and coffee, but surely that would suit Nero's palate better.
As Monica was thinking this while washing the pot, someone knocked loudly on the cottage door.
"Monica, I've come to deliver your food!"
The lively girl's voice made Monica's shoulders jerk. She threw on the cape she had left draped over the back of her chair and pulled the hood deeply over her head.
In the meantime, Nero lightly leaped onto a shelf.
"A visitor? Then I'll pretend to be a cat. Meow."
"Y-yeah."
Monica nodded at Nero, then opened the door with a nervous, trembling hand.
A handcart stood outside the door, and a girl of about ten stood in front of it.
She was a spirited-looking girl with dark brown hair tied at the nape of her neck. She came from a nearby village and was named Annie.
Delivering supplies to Monica was almost always this girl's job.
Monica peeked her face out just a little from behind the door and timidly called out, "H-hello." Annie was used to Monica's behavior. She unloaded the food from the cart, then pushed past Monica and opened the door wider.
"I'll bring everything inside, so hold the door open, okay?"
"Y-yeah...!"
When Monica gave a small, nervous nod, Annie efficiently carried the supplies inside.
Monica's cottage had little furniture, but stacks of paper and books were strewn across both the table and the floor, leaving scarcely enough room to set foot anywhere. The bed had long since been buried beneath documents, making it impossible to lie down. As a result, Monica had recently made a habit of sleeping in her chair.
"What a terrible house, as usual! Hey, are these stacks of paper important? Or can I throw them away?"
"A-all of it is important!"
Annie gave the stacks of paper occupying the floor a skeptical look.
"Hey, these are equations, right? What are you calculating?"
Annie could read, and as an artisan's daughter she was good with numbers. She was only a little over ten years old, but she was a clever girl, especially compared to other children her age.
Even to Annie, however, what was written here looked like nothing more than an incomprehensible string of numbers.
Monica lowered her head and answered without meeting Annie's gaze.
"Um, that one is... c-calculations for the orbits of the stars..."
"Then what about this? It's got a bunch of plant names written on it."
"...Th-that is... a chart compiling calculations for the proper mixture of plant fertilizer..."
"Then what about this? It has some kind of magic writing on it."
"...Th-that is... a trial calculation for a new composite spell formula proposed by a professor at Minerva..."
As Monica answered in a small voice while fidgeting with the sleeves of her oversized robe, Annie's catlike eyes opened wide.
"A spell formula? You can use magic, Monica?"
"...Uh, um, well... I... um..."
Monica faltered, her gaze wandering from side to side.
Nero, pretending to sleep on the shelf, gave a drawn-out meow as if to say, "Are you going to be okay?"
When Monica continued to fidget and knead her fingers, Annie gave a light shrug and laughed.
"No way you can use magic. If you could, you'd be making a name for yourself in the royal capital instead of living in seclusion out here in the mountains."
Magic was the art of using magical power to create miracles.
It had once been a secret art monopolized by the nobility, but in recent years, commoners had also been given opportunities to study it.
Even so, entering an institution where one could study magic required considerable wealth or talent. It was not something just anyone could learn with ease.
If anyone from a commoner background became a mage, it would be fair to call it a remarkable rise in status.
For example, an advanced mage could find employment in the Magic Corps, the most prestigious branch of the mage profession.
Or even without reaching the advanced level, any mage who attained at least the intermediate level could secure a livelihood for life, whether at a specialized magic research institute or in the household of a noble.
Even if one chose to live as a researcher, it was only natural to conduct research in the royal capital, somewhere with splendid facilities, rather than in a ramshackle cottage deep in the mountains.
Annie's conclusion that Monica couldn't possibly be a mage while living in such a remote cottage was perfectly reasonable.
"Hey, Monica, did you know? Apparently, three months ago, the eastern border suffered a dragon attack."
Beneath her cape, Monica's shoulders twitched. Nero, who had been pretending to sleep on the shelf, opened one eye as well.
Nero's tail, hanging limply over the edge of the shelf, swayed back and forth like a pendulum clock.
"A flock of huge Winged Dragons appeared near human settlements! There were more than ten of them!"
Winged Dragons were, as their name suggested, dragons with wings. They were a lower species with little intelligence, but they were extremely formidable in a group. They usually targeted livestock, though it had not been unusual in recent years for hungry Winged Dragons to attack humans.
"And then! And then! The one leading that flock of Winged Dragons was, get this, a legendary Black Dragon! The infamous Black Dragon of Worgan!"
Among dragons, those that bore the name of a color were called higher species and were considered particularly dangerous. The most dangerous of them all was said to be the Black Dragon.
The Black Dragon's special fire, black flame, was a forbidden fire that mercilessly burned through even the defensive barriers of advanced mages. If a Black Dragon went on a rampage, it would not be strange for an entire country to be reduced to a wasteland. It was truly a legendary-class dangerous creature.
"And then! When the Dragon Knights went to subjugate the Black Dragon, apparently one of the Seven Sages went with them! Oh, do you know who the Seven Sages are? They're the seven top mages in this country. They're all incredibly powerful mages."
"Uh, wow..."
"The youngest of the Seven Sages, the Silent Witch! Apparently, she shot down every single Winged Dragon all by herself, and even defeated the Black Dragon of Worgan!"
In a rural village, rumors of this sort were a valuable form of entertainment.
Annie's eyes were sparkling brightly... but Monica couldn't spare any attention for that. To be honest, she felt like she was going to throw up.
"The Silent Witch is apparently the only living mage who can use 'silent magic'! Magic normally requires an incantation, absolutely every time, but the Silent Witch doesn't need one! Apparently, she can fire off powerful spells one after another without uttering a single word!"
Monica silently clutched her stomach. It hurt as though her stomach were being wrung out.
Although it was a pleasant summer morning, Monica was drenched in sweat from head to toe.
"Ahh, I'd love to see a real member of the Seven Sages, just once."
In a countryside like this, one rarely saw even a mage below the intermediate level, let alone one of the Seven Sages. That was probably why Annie harbored something close to admiration for mages.
Still clutching her sharply aching stomach, Monica pulled a leather pouch from the shelf and took out several silver coins. They were payment for the food delivered to her, as well as Annie's tip.
"Th-this... th-thank you, as always."
Mumbling her thanks, Monica pressed the silver coins into Annie's hand.
Annie counted the coins and tilted her head.
"Is it really okay for me to receive this much? This is nearly twice as much as all the food here is worth."
"S-since you're delivering it... you can keep whatever's left as spending money, Annie."
If Annie had been an ordinary child, she would have stuffed the money into her pocket with a delighted cry. But Annie was a clever girl.
Faced with such an excessive reward, Annie looked up at Monica suspiciously.
"What kind of work do you do, Monica?"
"C-calculations?"
"Are you a doctor of mathematics?"
"Something like that... I think... yes..."
The stacks of documents brought into the cottage were all completely unrelated to one another.
Besides the orbits of stars and mixtures of fertilizer, the cottage held documents on population statistics, tax revenues, sales trends, and every conceivable kind of numerical data, all arranged in seemingly disorderly fashion—or according to a system only Monica understood.
Annie seemed reasonably satisfied with the explanation that Monica was "a doctor of mathematics."
"Huh. Then the person who's been in our village since yesterday is a doctor of mathematics too."
"Huh?"
"Someone who said they were your colleague came to our village. They said they wanted to come to Monica's cottage, so I showed them the way. They should be here soon."
──A colleague.
At those words, Monica's face rapidly turned pale.
Monica's body shook violently beneath her oversized robe as she asked Annie in a voice made strange by chattering teeth.
"Wh-wh-who is th-th-that person...?"
"I am."
The clear voice rang out behind Monica.
Monica's throat gave a tiny squeak.
When she turned around, she saw a handsome gentleman with lustrous chestnut hair braided into a plait, leaning against the door and smiling. A beautiful blonde woman in a maid's uniform stood beside him.
The man wore a splendid frock coat, carried a cane, and had a monocle. He was a refined, elegant gentleman in every respect. Above all, his delicate, almost feminine features were so perfectly formed that most women would have gazed at him in rapture.
But Monica opened her eyes wide as though she had encountered an evil dragon and desperately swallowed the scream rising in her throat.
"L-l-lou... Loui... L-Louis-san...!"
"Could you please refrain from arbitrarily turning my name into a delightfully amusing one such as 'Lulululu-Louilouis'?"
"Eek! S-sorry, I'm s-sorry..."
Ignoring the tearful Monica, the man smiled warmly at Annie. He took the girl's hand and placed a piece of candy in it.
"Thank you for showing us the way. You have been a great help, young lady."
"You're welcome."
Annie gave the handsome young man a polite, ladylike bow, then slipped the candy into her pocket.
"Well then, I shouldn't get in the way of your work talk, so I'll be going now. Bye-bye, Monica. See you in another month!"
With that, Annie left the cottage with a more demure step than usual.
Listening despairingly as the rattling cart faded into the distance, Monica looked up at the man before her with tear-filled eyes.
Though he was disguised in a frock coat and carried a cane, he was actually a mage dressed in a long robe and cloak, clutching a magnificent staff. The beautiful woman in the maid's uniform standing behind him was his contracted spirit.
"I-it's been a long time, Louis-san..."
When Monica greeted him in a trembling voice, Louis placed his right hand over his chest and bowed gracefully.
"Indeed, it has been a long time, Lady Monica Everett, one of the Seven Sages—the Silent Witch."