How to Raise a Dumb Wolf - Chapter 30

The Tower of Magic stood directly across from the hotel, less than a five-minute walk away. Aisha was in high spirits, and her steps unconsciously quickened, bringing her there in no time at all.

She showed her examination permit to the apprentice mage guarding the entrance. He efficiently registered her information, handed her a stack of materials about the tower—including detailed introductions to its mages and a map of the interior—and then allowed her inside.

Although Pal had already shown her around the Tower of Magic the day before, Aisha was still awed by its splendor and elegance when she entered again. The tower had been built during the Age of Great Conflict and was several thousand years old. Yet after repeated renovations and reinforcements, it still retained its original strength and beauty.

The spotless marble floors and walls were covered in flowing decorative patterns. Faintly glowing magical lines lay hidden among them, intersecting and matching the ornamentation to create a fantastical space only magic could achieve. Their glow, together with the sunlight pouring through the arched windows, illuminated every corner of the tower.

The interior was exceptionally spacious, with every floor rising to a great height. Even the first floor of the lower section had a platform suspended between the first and second public floors, supported by wooden stairways and magic. It divided the main hall from the library, though even from the hall, the far end remained out of sight. A white wall covered in reliefs and two large brown doors blocked the view.

Beyond them were meeting rooms, student classrooms and laboratories, lounges for advanced mages, offices for the Tower of Magic’s administrators, and many other facilities—including the public lecture hall where Aisha would soon attend the briefing session. The second and third public floors held a vast library open to mages, with the richest collection of books and the most advanced research theories in the world, as well as public laboratories. Unlike the first floor, which ordinary people could enter, those levels admitted only holders of official mage credentials.

Pal had already explained all of this, so Aisha merely looked upward with longing before striding toward the lecture hall.

A considerable crowd had already gathered inside. Most were young students of sixteen or seventeen, though there were still many children who looked only eleven or twelve. Sitting among the older candidates, they seemed distinctly proud of themselves.

There would be three briefing sessions in total. Even so, the Tower of Magic had hundreds of advanced and intermediate mages authorized to accept students, and the number of candidates was enormous. The lecture hall remained packed, with few empty seats.

Aisha stood on tiptoe and searched for a while before finding a seat in the back row near the aisle. The view looked poor, but there did not seem to be a better choice. She walked over, smoothed her skirt, and sat down.

Not long afterward, however, she felt a piercing gaze fixed on her face.

It was too direct to ignore. After a pause, Aisha turned uncomfortably toward it and asked in confusion, “Um… is something wrong?”

Then she saw the other person’s face and paused in surprise.

The person staring at her was a black-haired, black-eyed boy who looked only fourteen or fifteen. He was not among the youngest children there, but he still appeared noticeably immature beside most of the candidates. He was rather handsome, though despite his youth, he wore an oddly grave expression. His chin was tilted upward, and there was no smile on his face. He did not look easy to approach.

The moment their eyes met, he faltered as though caught completely off guard. But he recovered at once and looked away with a blank expression.

Since he was so young, Aisha softened her manner. She smiled and asked, “Is there something strange about me? Um… are you a candidate too?”

“…”

The boy did not answer immediately. He merely lowered his eyes and glanced casually over the things in Aisha’s hands.

“Name: Aisha Byrd. Region: Helman Federation. First-choice mentor—”

He read slowly, then suddenly frowned deeply at something he saw.

“—Eric Green?”

Aisha blinked. Only then did she realize that, because her hands had been full, she had never put the materials from the entrance attendant into her bag. She was still holding them, and the boy was reading the examination permit lying on top.

She immediately flipped it over to hide it. There was nothing particularly secret on the permit, but being scrutinized still felt strange—especially when the boy’s tone suggested surprise.

Heat crept into Aisha’s cheeks.

She knew that applying to Eric Green was excessively ambitious. She had never held especially high hopes, but hearing someone read it aloud like this was still embarrassing.

The boy did not seem to care about her reflexive response. After a pause, he turned toward the long table at the front of the stage.

“Give up,” he said indifferently. “You won’t get in. He won’t accept anyone this year either.”

“…What?”

Aisha had not expected such a remark and could not immediately understand what he meant.

“Tch.” The boy suddenly raked a hand through his hair in irritation, then tipped his chin toward the stage, telling Aisha to look. With apparent impatience, he said, “Do I really have to explain? That man has no intention of accepting a student. Just watch. He isn’t even planning to attend the briefing session.”

Aisha followed his gaze.

A long rectangular table of solid wood stood on the stage, much longer than an ordinary table. Ten chairs had been placed behind it. Nine were already occupied, leaving only one empty chair just to the right of center. Aisha narrowed her eyes and could just make out the name on the placard before it.

Eric Green.

Her heart tightened.

The boy spoke with faint arrogance. “Those are the seats of the ten mages from the tower’s upper section. By rule, they must all attend and preside over the examination briefing session whether or not they intend to accept students. But Eric Green won’t come today. If you truly want to study here, you’d better place your hopes in the people sitting over there.”

By “the people sitting over there,” the boy meant the mages in the instructors’ section of the lecture hall. Compared with the students, almost all of them were middle-aged. Their clothing was remarkably uniform: robes of black, purple, or dark blue, with badges at their chests proving their status as official mages. Intermediate mages wore purple or cyan badges, while advanced mages wore red or gold.

These too were mages affiliated with the Tower of Magic and authorized to take students. All of them appeared in the admissions handbook, and Aisha had naturally listed several as alternate choices.

Still, the boy’s absolute confidence, as though he understood everything, was difficult to ignore. Aisha blinked and looked at him with surprise and confusion.

“You—”

Click.

Before she could finish her question, the lights in the lecture hall suddenly dimmed, and the formerly bright magical patterns faded to a hazy glow. The briefing session was about to begin. Afraid of becoming distracted and missing something important, Aisha suppressed her questions for the moment and quickly sat upright.

As she put the materials into her bag and took out a pen and notebook, she hesitantly looked toward the stage once more.

The seat meant for Eric was still empty.

…

In truth, that empty chair had also stirred unrest on the stage.

“Eric isn’t coming again?”

Only a few minutes remained before the briefing session officially began. A thin, middle-aged mage seated to the right of Eric’s empty place frowned. He leaned indignantly toward the elderly woman sitting just left of center.

“Claudia! Look at that wonderful nephew of yours! I remember he submitted an application to accept *one* student again this year, didn’t he?! He’s done this for more than ten years! Ever since he rose to the ninth floor three years ago, he hasn’t attended a single briefing session! And as for taking students, hasn’t he already accepted Thorne?! Why can’t he take anyone else? Even if he doesn’t intend to accept a student… is this how a responsible advanced mage should behave?! I never missed a briefing session when I held the ninth floor! Besides, he’s only a ninth-floor mage. Even you—the Great Claudia—arrived on time today!”

Only a mage who occupied the top floor of the Tower of Magic could have the word *Great* placed before their name. The old woman known as the Great Claudia watched the furious Frey in silence and did not answer at once.

It was not that she failed to understand his anger. As the mage whom Eric had forcibly displaced from the ninth floor, and the third-ranked mage in the Tower of Magic, Frey undoubtedly had less tolerance for Eric than anyone else in the tower.

Frey had once been just like Eric: young, arrogant, extraordinarily gifted, and blessed with unbroken success. Until Eric defeated him, Frey’s life had never once taken a downward turn. To be defeated at the height of his pride by someone younger and more gifted had been an unprecedented blow. It was only natural that he despised Eric.

Besides… Eric truly had gone too far.

“He should not be doing this. Once today’s session is over, I’ll have a proper talk with him,” Claudia said steadily. “For an adult, he is indeed far too willful.”

“Exactly! He’s thirty-nine, not a child!” Red-faced with anger, Frey immediately agreed. “Eric is setting a terrible example for every mage! If this continues, won’t everyone think they can skip these sessions whenever they please?! Come to think of it, even when he used to attend the briefing sessions, all he did was scan the crowd! Heaven knows what he was looking for! Heaven knows what that damned—damned Tina Killott did to him back then!”

“…It was not Tina’s fault.” Claudia, who knew the truth, paused and slowly shook her head. “Tina was a very good girl. She was simply… oblivious. She knew nothing about it.”

“Hmph. Speaking of which, didn’t the recent public announcement from Helman say that in the end, she married her classmate—that archer, Hock Byrd?”

“Yes. An archer and swordsman, Frey.”

“What difference does that make? Shallow! He’s nothing but a fool who knows no magic! An idiot who can only wave weapons around! A pretty face with an empty head! Nothing in this world is stupider than abandoning a mage in favor of a warrior! Even that bastard Eric would have been a better choice! Oh, and I heard that Hock lost those decent looks of his long ago?”

“…Yes.”

Claudia answered slowly, but looking at Frey’s mocking face, she had no desire to explain.

Hock was indeed no longer handsome. But… the openness of his feelings had finally made Tina fall in love with him.

By comparison, Eric had been a coward from beginning to end.

Claudia slowly swept her gaze across the young faces in the darkness. As she aged, her eyesight had deteriorated, and she could no longer distinguish the dense silhouettes in the back rows. But… within the range she could see, at least, there was still no sign of the person Eric might have been searching for.

The chance that two warriors would have a magically gifted child had always been very small. Eric would be disappointed again this year.

He had clearly begun trying to give up years ago, yet stubbornly submitted another application to accept a student year after year. Eric had always been like this: a stubborn coward, forever lingering, too afraid to move forward and too reluctant to let go.

When he accepted Thorne as his student four years ago, he had probably already surrendered in his heart. He simply continued to clutch the final thread of hope and refused to release it.

Claudia sighed. “That is enough, Frey. It’s time. Let us begin the briefing session.”

…

The moment the elderly woman in the distance rose, an excited commotion swept through the hall.

There could be no doubt. She was Claudia Green, the first-ranked mage who occupied the top floor of the Tower of Magic—the most accomplished mage in the world and the current master of the tower.

As its master, she was effectively also the head of the Tower of Magic. This was a rare opportunity. Apart from elite gatherings ordinary people could never enter and appearances in newspapers, the tower’s admissions briefing session was likely the only place most people could ever see Claudia.

Compared with a second-ranked mage like Eric Green, the distinction of first place was naturally more celebrated. The Great Claudia was a name Aisha had known even in Philray. Like everyone around her, she craned her neck desperately for a clearer look at the legendary mage. Yet even with all her effort, she could make out only the snow-white hair coiled at the back of Claudia’s head and old-fashioned, solemn clothes as conservative as a nun’s.

“Thank you for coming, children.”

The elderly woman spoke slowly in a hoarse voice. She did not seem to use much strength, yet her words traveled clearly to every corner of the hall. Without question, it was magic.

“New mages are the future of the Tower of Magic and of the world. Cultivating outstanding newcomers is even more important than burying ourselves in research. That is precisely why the tower’s founder decreed that every mage from the upper section must attend the annual admissions briefing session. It is a tradition and principle in which the Tower of Magic takes great pride.

“Personally, I am delighted to see so many energetic young people wishing to join our ranks once again. It means magic has not declined with the passing of the ages, but remains as prosperous as ever. Children, perhaps you have not yet realized it, but you are the hope of magic’s future. To protect that flame, we will do everything in our power to ensure that the examinations are fair, equal, and safe. If you discover any conduct during the examinations that violates the historic spirit of the Tower of Magic, you must inform the officials in charge—or tell me directly.”

Claudia paused before continuing.

“However… you may have noticed from the admissions brochure, or upon arriving at the Heart of the World, that this year’s examinations have changed. The age in which magic developed alone has ended. We need to attempt something new…”

Aisha listened intently and began taking notes as quickly as possible. Everyone around her behaved much the same. Although Claudia’s magic ensured they could hear her under any conditions, no one tried to speak. The lecture hall was frighteningly quiet, filled only by Claudia’s old but steady voice and the rustle of pen tips against paper.

The Great Claudia was explaining the changes to this year’s examinations.

In previous years, the Tower of Magic had used a standard format consisting of a written theory examination and a practical assessment. The first tested the candidates’ foundational knowledge of magic. The second measured their magical reserves, the form of their mana flowers, and various other aptitudes, judging their level according to innate talent.

The system had changed because the Tower of Magic had finally recognized that, over the years, some mages born with limited magical power or less-than-ideal mana flowers had still achieved as much as those considered naturally gifted through their own efforts later in life. The old method of predicting a candidate’s future achievements according to talent might have overlooked many unconventional geniuses and carelessly destroyed the futures of young mages.

And so, this year, the Tower of Magic had joined forces with Wold Warrior School.

They borrowed the admissions methods Wold Warrior School had always used and made students prove themselves through ability.

The Tower of Magic had secured the use of the warrior school’s forest, which had long served for student assessments and entrance examinations. Every mage taking the examination would receive a map, just as warrior candidates had in the past. Each map indicated a route, and students had to follow it alone and reach the endpoint in order to complete the examination.

Naturally, an entrance examination could not be as simple as taking a walk.

Aggressive wild animals—and even magical beasts capable of using magic—were distributed along every route. The closer a student came to the endpoint, the more difficult the creatures would be to handle. Of course, the school would not make things excessively hard for students who had not yet even gained admission. The animals and magical beasts placed on the examination routes would be suited to the level of an ordinary candidate. They were also trained and understood that their task was merely to obstruct the students, not eat them.

Once an animal judged that a candidate’s ability met the required standard, it would deliberately activate a magic array hidden near the testing point, informing the instructors how far that candidate had progressed. Activating all six magic arrays along a route meant passing the examination.

Aisha had taught herself everything she knew about magic over the past few months. Under the old examination system, she had felt reasonably confident about the theory portion. The practical assessment depended largely on innate talent, so there had been little reason to worry—worrying could not change anything anyway.

But aside from the time she had blasted apart an iron lock with magic in Dimska, Aisha had never actually put her magic into practice. Merely listening to the new rules made her uneasy.

Fortunately, no one else had ever taken such an examination either. An entire year of preparation had suddenly become useless, and everyone was anxious.

After explaining the rules, Claudia paused and spoke again.

“Candidates, please bring your examination permits to the officials at the front and collect the corresponding examination materials. To ensure fairness, the materials have been sealed with magic and cannot be opened before the formal examination. Please do not attempt to force them open.”

Aisha’s heart immediately began to race. She hurriedly searched her bag for her examination permit. She had just found it and was about to stand when—

“Hiss—”

Aisha gasped in pain. Her braid had somehow caught on something at the back of the chair. The slightest movement tugged her entire scalp until it went numb.

She tried to free it, but she could not turn her head far enough to see and could only work blindly. At a time like this, half a minute felt like an hour. Everyone else was filing toward the stage, the people in her row had chosen to go around from the opposite end, and the line for the materials was growing shorter and shorter.

Aisha became anxious. After a moment’s thought, she pulled her wand from her bag, intending to create something sharp and simply cut her hair free—

“…Are you an idiot?”

A boyish voice suddenly sounded beside her. Aisha instinctively turned her head, forgetting for an instant that her hair was still tangled around the chair. Another terrible stab of pain followed. She sucked in a breath and curled forward reflexively.

“…Pulling it like that will only make the knot tighter, idiot.”

The boy rose from his seat and felt around in his pocket before producing a slender wand.

“Besides, short hair definitely wouldn’t suit you. Don’t cut it.”

Only then did Aisha seem to notice that the boy beside her had remained seated instead of leaving. She could not see what he was doing, only sense him leaning closer.

A few seconds later, a clear incantation sounded softly beside her ear.

The black-haired boy’s chanting voice was much gentler than his speaking voice. His youthful timbre, poised between maturity and childhood, resembled springwater striking stone—smooth, with an indescribable rhythm. The instant he finished the final syllable, Aisha felt the tension at the back of her head disappear.

Her hair was free.

Aisha instinctively reached up and discovered that her braid had somehow been gathered into a perfectly neat coil.

“That was a Fur-Tangle Grooming Spell. It can arrange anything similar to hair… Any teacher will teach it to you once you reach your second year. It’s nothing impressive.”

The boy silently returned his wand to his pocket and tucked both hands in after it.

He glanced at Aisha, then shifted his gaze to the side. She had no idea what he was looking at, only that it was not her. His voice grew a little softer.

“…You might look better with your hair down. But this way… it won’t get caught.”

“…Thank you.”

Aisha finally recovered and hurried to thank him, though she could not help feeling faintly ashamed that she had needed help from a boy so much younger than herself.

“Um, I’m sorry… I caused you trouble.”

At that moment, the hand she still held against her hair touched the ribbon she had used to tie it—and beside that…

Aisha blinked and removed something that had not been there before.

A tiny white flower, perfectly fresh, with five distinct petals.

She looked at the boy.

“…I picked it up on the way.” Perhaps it was only her imagination, but he seemed to speak faster than before, with an edge of anxiety, and there appeared to be red in his cheeks. “If you don’t want it, just throw it away. Weren’t you going to collect your examination materials?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you!”

Aisha thanked him again. She knew she ought to collect the materials, but now that her hair was free, she did not feel quite so rushed. The line was still fairly long.

After hesitating for several seconds, she looked at him and asked in a friendly tone, “Would you like to go together?”

“…No. I’m not taking the examination.”

Before Aisha could understand the logic behind that answer, the boy’s nose twitched. He frowned.

“Do you have a beastfolk lover?”

Aisha froze. “No.”

“Then you keep an animal? A very large one?”

“What? Um… I suppose?”

The subject had changed so quickly that Aisha could no longer follow the situation. She tried to explain. “I wouldn’t say I’m the one keeping him, but we do live together…”

When Pal explained how to look after the giant wolf, he had repeatedly emphasized that she should avoid feeding him raw meat and similar things. He had also said that the giant wolf did not much enjoy food given to him by others. He could eat ordinary human food, but it would never fill him and amounted to little more than a snack.

In truth, Aisha did not feel as though she were feeding or raising Les at all. Besides, during this unfamiliar period in Wold, she had received enormous comfort from him. Their relationship was one of mutual dependence.

Aisha pressed her lips together. “How did you—”

“There’s a strong animal scent on you.”

The boy understood what she meant and calmly answered before she could finish.

Aisha was a girl and considered herself quite clean. Hearing that she smelled immediately made her lift an arm and sniff it.

“…That’s useless,” the boy interrupted. “Humans can’t smell it.”

Seeing her expression change, he fell silent for a moment before adding awkwardly, “…Don’t look at me like that. I’m not beastfolk. I’m human. I know because of magic… Tch. Once you learn it, you’ll understand. That animal of yours… it likes you very much.”

Aisha still did not understand everything, but at least she could tell the boy meant no harm. She smiled at him.

“I understand… Thank you.”

“…It’s nothing. Hurry and collect your materials.”

The remaining line truly was not long. The examination official was already counting the final few candidates, and the advanced mages had all left. Aisha quickly joined the end of the line.

Then she remembered that she could ask the boy’s name. But when she looked back, he was already gone.

…

Meanwhile, on the ninth floor of the Tower of Magic’s upper section, the black-haired boy pushed open a door.

“Thorne?”

The curtains were tightly closed, leaving what should have been a bright chamber inside the tower poorly lit.

The boy looked toward the voice and saw a thin figure in black robes sitting motionless on a sofa with his back turned, apparently reading a book.

Thorne was somewhat surprised that Eric was not in the laboratory. He paused for several seconds before speaking.

“Teacher.”

“…Where did you go?”

“To the briefing session… to test the spell that imitates a beastfolk sense of smell,” Thorne answered honestly.

He hesitated before continuing. “Teacher, I met a candidate who wants to study under you. Um…”

“Is her surname Killott?”

“…No.”

Eric Green did not even turn around. He interrupted casually.

“Then there’s no need to tell me. Go prepare your report for this week.”

Thorne paused and lowered his gaze.

“…I understand, Teacher.”