Make Dark Fantasy Great Again-Chapter 4: Master

“You’re saying I’m your disciple, Pamon?”

<So suddenly?>

The book took the words right from me.

<What’s this about, Pamon? Are you serious?>

“Would I joke about something like this?”

<That’s why I wish it was a joke. Risir probably feels the same way.>

“I suppose so. Which is why I’m sorry, Risir, because you have no choice but to accept.”

Pamon’s expression and tone remained unchanged, as she spoke calmly in her typical lively manner. Her attitude confused me. How was I to take her statement?

Well for starters, I was curious.

The meaning of a master-disciple relationship in this world was by no means light. I wanted to know why this extraordinary woman suddenly wanted to take me as her disciple.

“Er... Is it because of my constitution?”

I’m not usually this kind of bastard, but right now I’m bathing in wishful thinking.

Could the constitution Pamon mentioned be even more remarkable than I imagined? Remarkable enough to make someone as extraordinary as her suddenly put dibs on me?

Am I gonna witness a regret-angst-obsession arc from those Bendel jerks?

“Well, should I call that the reason? Or should I say that’s what makes this conversation possible?”

“Wat’s that supposed to mean...?”

“I’ll explain. You do have the right to know, Risir.”

***Pamon’s story was shocking.

Long ago, Radola, the ancestor of Bendel, made a certain deal with Pamon’s master.

Radola gained power through that deal and promised to repay with the most precious treasure Bendel would possess in its prosperous future.

“...So, you’re saying that’s me?”

“Yup.”

“...Maybe you should reconsider?”

Okay, I admit I’m a pretty cool, sexy guy for a bastard child. But being the most precious treasure of Bendel? This right here is highly debatable. If it were announced to Bendel right now, there’d be a truckload of people ready to draw blades.

Or is this constitution of mine really that special?

“Do you dislike the idea of becoming my disciple that much?”

Pamon retained her cheery expression as she asked this question.

Do I dislike it? For a penniless bastard like me, finding a master ain’t no easy task. Especially an outstanding one like Pamon.

Now normally, I would’ve started slamming low bows before she could change her mind, forcing her to reflect on whether she’d made a hasty judgment.

But you know, there are situations like this. Sometimes things need to escalate to the right scale.

Bendel Radola, she’s pretty much the founder of Bendel. You know, the name engraved on that big statue in the center of the manor.

I’m the price of the contract she signed? Me, the shame of the family? I’m the family’s greatest treasure!?

Do you think the world’s a joke? You think the world’s a light novel?

If things go wrong, I can’t even imagine what consequences it might bring.

I’ll be in trouble, that’s a given, and it might even bring great calamity to the Bendel family.

“What the hell, let’s give it a try.”

I especially liked that part, so I accepted the proposal.

One little slip and I might bring Bendel down with me? For realsies? This isn’t a dream, right?

I’m 18 years old this year, and I’m ‘boutta show you the hatred of a bastard pent up over a lifetime.

In a world that’s set right, someone who cocks around and jizzes a mess should pay the price for it. So we share the same fate now. If I’m fucked, we’re all fucked. Isn’t this what true family is about?

Bendel always felt so distant to me, but not anymore. I’d learned the warmth of blood ties.

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“Really!?”

Pamon clapped loudly in excitement.

“Oh my. I’m so happy, so relieved that I won’t be dragging you away with me.”

Did I hear right? Feels like my new master said something real scary...

“...Was my answer not really that important in the first place?”

“Of course not. I’m this happy, aren’t I? Because you’re becoming my disciple of your own will and not by coercion.”

“Well, by the way, Master. It’s kind of late to say this but I’m a bit worried. Will I be able to live up to your expectations?”

My master was clearly no ordinary individual, and she was a magician to boot.

I might have learned some swordsmanship through observation, but I’m completely ignorant about magic. Can I live up to the expectations of someone like her?

“Oh but of course. Worry not, my disciple Risir. Do you know what your greatest strength is?”

“Well I am pretty smart for a bastard. And brave.”

“How cute.”

“...Sorry?”

Master kneaded my cheeks with both hands.

“You’re doing well enough. Just keep being yourself.”

Am I... actually a pet, not a disciple?

My master seemed to have an unconventional interpretation of the master-disciple relationship. A belated sense of unease swept over me.

***“Say, how about we go out for a walk?”

Master and I left the library and walked the streets. Thanks to her cognitive disruption magic, people didn’t get surprised seeing a talking book and a beautiful dark elf.

Now that looks quite convenient. Wonder if I could learn it too?

“Hm...”

Master had been making sounds to herself for a while, as if deeply pondering something. With her leaning on me, arms linked with mine, I could directly feel the vibration.

“What a pickle... A real pickle...”

“What’s bothering you so much?”

“Risir, my disciple.”

“Yes, Master.”

“This might be a bit disappointing, but I’d like you to hear me out.”

“I’m mentally prepared, Master.”

“Regrettably, I don’t have much expertise in swordsmanship.”

<Not much? A disastrous incapacity, more like. Try giving her a sword. You’ll immediately see the birth of a demonic blade that gains self-awareness and wields its owner.>

The book told the legend of Master’s demonic sword. Truly fascinating.

So, it’s saying my master’s terrible at swordsmanship?

“Duran. How could you say that in front of my disciple? You can’t even hold a sword~”

<Well I’m a book?>

As expected of a talking book, its logic was terrifyingly coherent.

“Master, you’re a magician, right? Is it a problem that you’re not proficient in swordsmanship?”

“Oh but it is. I’m now a master to someone, aren’t I?”

Master tapped the sword hanging at my waist. It was something I wore just because I’m a Bendel.

“As a master, I should be able to teach my disciple who walks the path of the sword. Such a troubling matter, really. It’s why I’m pondering how to integrate my knowledge with swordsmanship.”

“Master. I don’t particularly intend to stick to the path of the sword. If you’re willing, I’ll obediently follow your teachings.”

“...”

Just now, I saw my bubbly master looking seriously troubled for the first time.

“Master? Is there some problem?”

“Well, you see...”

“Don’t tell me?”

“Flinch.”

“Are you in a situation where you can’t imagine how a muscle-brain who’s never known a single letter of magic in their life could reach the realm of intelligence called magic!?”

“N-no. Probably not.”

Master couldn’t bring herself to meet my eyes.

I shook off her arm, and she fell to the ground wailing.

“Risir~”

“Cognitive disruption magic... How powerful. I can no longer hear her voice.”

“My disciple~”

It would be a lie to say I wasn’t disappointed at all, but the feeling wasn’t big.

A bastard child from a swordsmanship family who’s actually a magic genius?

I wasn’t naive enough to expect such a development.

<Hey, Risir.>

“Yes, Mr. Duran.”

<Do you know how long it usually takes magicians to master the basics?>

“I’m not sure.”

<Three years.>

“What?”

<This is for ordinary people, mind you. It’s the average time it takes to see mana, feel mana, and control mana. Only after three years are you finally ready to start learning magic in earnest. That’s just the starting line. Of course, depending on the case, it could be two years, or one year, or six months, or even a month.>

“How long do you think it’ll take me?”

<Sword or magic, it’s all the same. In the end, what’s most decisive is the environment and bloodline you’re born into.>

“I may not look it, but I am a Bendel.”

<Yeah. That’s the problem. Aren’t you a Bendel? The blood flowing in your body has shunned magic and embraced the sword for centuries.>

“What a bloody accursed starting line.”

<Listen to you talk. Oh, and by the way...>

Duran wasn’t finished yet.

<Pamon here, despite appearances, is a busy body. She only stopped by Hayeren briefly for—you know what we talked about earlier. Once that’s resolved, she was planning to leave right away.>

“... How about a one-week miracle? If I study magic for 20 hours a day from now, can I pass the academy entrance exam?”

<What nonsense are you on?>

While we conversed, Master was still on the ground, gazing at me like a puppy who’d been hit on the nose.

“...Master? Is it true? That we don’t have much time left together?”

“I’m sorry, Risir. To be honest, I was only focused on solving the homework my master left behind. I didn’t really think about what would happen after that.”

“Don’t tell me my Master is such a messed-up person that she’s not cut out to have a disciple?”

<You’ve seen right through her. That one’s not cut out to look after others.>

“Risir, I’m sorry. Are you disappointed?”

“Cognitive disruption magic... How powerful. I can no longer hear her voice.”

“No~”

The book and the dark elf were under cognitive disruption magic.

A crowd of onlookers gathered in the street, as the one-man show of one grief-stricken bastard continued for a while.

***The disillusioned illegitimate child trudged back to the Bendel manor. Back to the annex again.

A daily schedule of only going to the library, manor, and annex. Isn’t this the life of a star?

“So, what do you think about this? During our remaining time, I’ll give him experience focused on practical skills rather than theory.”

<That’s probably the way to go. You only have about a week at most? There’s no point in cramming theory during that time. But why are you telling me this?>

“My disciple won’t listen to me.”

<Would you want to talk to someone like you?>

The talking book and dark elf followed along.

Go away. Didn’t you say you were busy? Isn’t it a big deal?

Before returning to my room, I stopped by the small training ground set up in the backyard.

It’s my usual routine.

After returning from the library, I’d carry out training combined with exercise. Since Bendel didn’t teach me swordsmanship or spar with me, this was all I could do.

But as I was about to draw the sword at my belt and start with a casual swing...

“Wait.”

Pamon called out urgently.

“Please, Risir. Let me help.”

“...Hah. Well. So what’s your plan, Miss Pamon?”

“Miss Pamon? But you were calling me Master until just now.”

<That’s before he found out you were a good-for-nothing. But at least he’s using honorifics. You had a good disciple.>

“Why is it past tense~”

Pamon said she’d be my sparring partner. That’s how she’d give me practical experience.

“Didn’t you say earlier? That holding a sword turns you into a foxtail swaying in the wind.”

“Ah, don’t worry about that. I won’t be fighting. This little one will be your opponent.”

Pamon clapped her hands lightly as if summoning a servant. The dirt of the training ground split and vines sprouted up, forming a human shape.

“...Pamon, is this right? It looks a bit too dangerous.”

It was a plant zombie.

Now, the name sounds all eco-friendly and nice, but its appearance was no joke. It resembled a human who died tangled in vines and had their body taken over by mushrooms.

“Oh my, but isn’t it cute?”

“...”

Cute? Didn’t you call me cute too?

So does that mean I belong in the same category as that thing?

Regardless, I did grab my sword and take a stance. But only a stance. I had no idea what to do.

I’d swung the sword countless times, but never had I aimed it at something moving. Literally.

No one in Bendel would cross swords with a bastard. And no one would allow a bastard to cross swords with anyone.

I wasn’t allowed to learn swordsmanship. Though, if I wanted to join the military, maybe they would’ve deigned to teach me the basics.

“This is my first time sparring, so please watch with a kind eye.”

“You can do it, Risir.”

<How can this be your first time? A Bendel? At that age?>

“You’d understand if you were born a Bendel, Mr. Duran.”

<But I’m a book.>

“Ah.”

Scary appearance aside, the zombie didn’t seem to have what you’d call presence or spirit. I had a feeling I could beat it.

Entrusting myself to such baseless confidence, I took a step forward.

<Oh boy, your posture is—>

Even the book let out a sigh at the unsightly strike that reached the plant zombie.

My sword landed weakly.

And the zombie exploded.