Love Letter From The Future

That day was strange from the morning. To be precise, it started feeling odd when I finished getting ready to go out.

As usual, I washed my face and put on my clothes. Then, as I was about to grab my belt, I noticed a weapon hanging there that I had never seen before.

It was a small hand axe. Until now, I had only used one sword, so suddenly having an additional weapon felt strange.

I felt puzzled, but despite my confusion, I put on the belt. It seemed like I received it from someone while drunk, and I thought I’d have to return it later.

As I stepped outside wearing the red cloak symbolizing my third year at the Academy, I saw that many people were already milling about on the campus.

From this point on, I had to feel truly perplexed. Of course, it wasn’t just because there were many people walking around.

This place was the ‘Jerip Academy,’ a prestigious educational institution that is undeniably the best on the continent.

It was a place where renowned scholars and talented individuals dispatched from various countries gathered to teach the continent’s finest students. Its history and scale were qualitatively different from other educational institutions.

Given that it was a place that prided itself on being the best in the world, simply being admitted to the Academy wasn’t easy.

Only carefully selected talents from across the continent could step through its doors. The admissions exam, boasting competition rates from hundreds to thousands to one, was equally challenging for everyone.

Whether royal, noble, or commoner, reflecting on the entrance exam usually resulted in some level of swearing.

Submitting a waiver stating that losing your life before the exam was acceptable was a long-held tradition of the Academy. Though it was rare for actual casualties to occur, just having to submit such a waiver proved how perilous the Academy’s entrance exam was.

In such a daunting testing process, one had to surpass hundreds of those known as gifted from various countries to barely scrape by as a new student at the ‘Academy.’

Of course, even if one managed to enter the Academy, that was not the end. During the subsequent four-year curriculum, around 10% of students were still likely to flunk each year.

Flunking at the Academy meant expulsion. Naturally, students who had worked hard to get into the Academy struggled fiercely to avoid failing, intensifying competition even further.

It was a grueling educational process. Only by surviving through four years of fierce competition could one finally emerge into society bearing the label of ‘Academy Graduate.’

However, once graduated, one was almost guaranteed a successful future, so it wasn’t a bad investment.

In fact, many parents were eager to send their children to the Academy for the sake of the reputation of ‘proven talent.’

For instance, my parents were among them.

Having shown little interest in managing territory or even much of anything since childhood, I quickly became a source of worry for them.

The succession line had long been secured by my older brother, and unlike my younger sister, I wasn’t savvy with commerce, leaving my parents unable to avoid worrying about my future.

When I turned eight, my parents finally made a decision. If I showed no interest in any specific field, they would at least secure my means of making a living.

Thus, a rigorous training regimen began from my early childhood. Fortunately, I was not entirely talentless, and I was able to achieve decent results through sheer hard work. With a bit of luck, I managed to gain admission to the Academy.

However, upon entering the Academy, I realized my talent was quite lacking.

It was a place where various prodigies from across the continent congregated. Naturally, there was an insurmountable gap that could not be bridged by mediocre effort and talent.

The only talents I could boast were a bit of agility and horseback riding, which thankfully allowed me to stay clear of flunking.

In other words, I was in the lower-middle tier, but as it stood, I would likely graduate without any issues. That alone was enough for me to feel satisfied.

Understanding one’s place was always important. After all, I had long abandoned the thought of being the protagonist of the world since my mid-teens.

Thus, until now, when asked my name at the Academy, I maintained a presence that elicited responses like ‘Ah, that person!’

To put it negatively, it meant I had no standout features, and positively, it suggested I had adapted reasonably well to life at the Academy.

So, the reactions I received today were understandably unfamiliar.

Every time I took a step, whispers followed me. At first, I thought I had perhaps dressed incorrectly, but that was not the case.

I wanted to dismiss it as a mere misunderstanding, but the glances that peeked at me from the crowd were of a type that was impossible to misinterpret. It was an awkward feeling.

There was nothing as frightening as attention for no apparent reason. I couldn’t even know whether it was goodwill or malice.

The whispers that filled me with discomfort didn’t wane after some time. I was on my way to a lecture, and at this rate, I might end up hearing whispers even during class.

I certainly couldn’t stop an idle passerby to ask why they were whispering about me.

While I was pondering that with a befuddled expression, suddenly a savior came into my view.

A familiar figure walked with a lolling gait. That youthful face bore a pallid light, certainly an indication that he had consumed a considerable amount of alcohol the night before.

With his brown hair and green eyes, he was my old friend. We had interacted frequently since childhood, and he also shared a bond of having entered the Academy together.

‘Reto Ainstone,’ if one were to name the Academy’s greatest layabout, his name would surely come up.

He yawned as if still suffering from last night’s hangover but then stiffened when he spotted me walking toward him. The emotion that flickered in his eyes was unmistakable surprise.

However, I wasn’t so estranged from him that I would pay attention to even a fleeting reaction. I waved my hand to greet him with warm feelings.

Yes, if anyone knew the reason behind why everyone around was whispering about me, it had to be Reto.

“Hey, Reto!”

I walked swiftly toward Reto without hesitation. However, for some reason, Reto seemed unusually anxious.

He fidgeted, glancing at me, and then suddenly seemed to realize something, his eyes widening. I couldn’t tell what the cause was, but he looked very shocked.

His scrutiny of me continued for a while. It wasn’t until I stood before him that Reto suddenly pulled me into a bear hug, nearly tearing up.

“Ian, you’re back…!”

Wait, what nonsense is this?

I was taken aback by the sudden embrace, allowing myself a moment of blankness before quickly regaining my senses. My hands instinctively pushed Reto away.

I had no interest in sharing a hot hug with a guy in broad daylight. As far as I knew, Reto felt the same way. He often called himself a ‘lonely wolf hunting for distant women in bars every night.’

So, when he suddenly hugged me, I couldn’t help but feel bewildered, as if welcoming a friend returning from the battlefield.

A chill ran down my spine. Words scolding Reto poured out of my mouth.

“No… hey, are you crazy?! Why are you hugging me so early in the morning? It’s disgusting…!”

However, even as I shouted, trembling with my protests, Reto merely wiped his eyes with his sleeve, sobbing softly.

“Sniff… this is how Ian should be. Yes, this is how Ian should be… welcome back, buddy!”

As if to congratulate me, he repeatedly patted my shoulder. My incredulous glare fixed on him, yet he seemed unfazed, lost in his emotions.

Finally, I began to feel a dull ache from his repeated pats. My expression naturally crumpled, and a bemused voice slipped out of my lips.

“…What are you doing?”

To my perfectly reasonable question, it was Reto who looked taken aback. His eyes widened as he then jumped and asked,

“Hey, don’t you remember? What kind of crazy shit you’ve been doing for the past week?!”

“A week?”

I returned his incredulous expression with a blank one, prompting Reto to pound his chest in desperation.

As a mage, his body was weak, and he seemed equally exasperated.

“Don’t you… remember? Last class, you nearly beat Yuridina’s bastard to death!”

“…Me?”

My index finger pointed at myself. In disbelief, I let out another question, and Reto vigorously nodded, confirming my words.

“Yeah, you crazy bastard! Last class, the third and second years were supposed to pair up and spar, but you beat that Yuridina bastard until he couldn’t even stand up anymore! Do you know how shocked Selin and I were when we heard that? Wow, was that guy choking on his snack last night…?”

As Reto excitedly continued, I could only respond with a blank expression.

This was because I had no memory of the incident whatsoever.

A week? Then did I lose my mind for an entire week?

And as for ‘Yuridina’s bastard,’ that referred to her.

Seria Yuridina.

Though born to commoners, she was the daughter of the Duke Yuridina, a prominent figure in the northern part of the Empire. Her talent in swordsmanship was unrivaled even at the Academy, where the best of the best gathered.

Before entering the Academy, she was already regarded as a strong candidate for the swordsmanship department’s top honors. Though only in her second year, no ordinary fourth-year could match her.

Many were drawn to her allure, skills, and background, but she thoroughly ignored them, earning the nickname ‘Yuridina’s brat.’ By now, an atmosphere that subtly ostracized her had also formed.

Still, one couldn’t openly bully her, as her talent shone too brightly. It was all about skills at the Academy.

She was that skilled. Although she couldn’t reach the caliber of Yuridina’s direct line in the fourth year, she was undoubtedly among the top talents in the second year.

But did I seriously beat Seria Yuridina to the point where she could hardly stand?

It was absurd; I was almost unable to laugh at the prospect. As I stammered a half-hearted laugh, Reto began to wear a serious expression.

“Hey, you really don’t remember? Now that I think about it, you looked a bit off, extremely tired… Could it be some kind of curse?”

It was then that I realized Reto wasn’t joking or kidding; he was genuinely concerned. A hint of worry flitted across his eyes.

If Reto, usually optimistic, was taking this seriously, I should consider that what he had said was mostly true. A throbbing sensation began to pulse in my head.

Had I engaged in such antics for an entire week? Why?

Then a dull ache throbbed in my brain. I felt like I was about to remember something, yet it remained elusive.

Logically, this should be quite a serious matter, but for some reason, I remained unconcerned. A growing dissonance formed within me.

While I was mulling over it, Reto’s concerned expression seemed to deepen. He began mumbling something.

“Wait a minute, which curses relate to memory loss or personality changes? The Wail of the Banshee, the Cries of the Old Ones, or maybe possession by a High Ghost….”

It felt like I was about to become embroiled in something even more troublesome. Would I be dragged into some laboratory of the Magic Department and subjected to all sorts of experiments?

Just imagining it was the worst. I held up my hand to interrupt Reto’s continued musings.

“Enough, don’t worry so much. After all… who would curse the second son of a humble noble family like me?”

At my dismissive words, Reto fell silent and stroked his chin. Though he still looked skeptical, he seemed to consider my words somewhat rational.

And rightly so. What conceivable reason would someone have to cast a curse capable of altering someone’s personality on the second son of a petty noble?

Nonetheless, when Reto’s expression didn’t lighten, I managed a wry smile, attempting to put him at ease.

“I mean, who knows? Maybe a cursed graduate student from the Department of Curses, holed up in his study all day, might have lost it and cast a curse on me.”

“Well, that might make sense. If it’s a graduate student….”

Though I had thrown the comment out as a joke, Reto seemed to take that possibility somewhat seriously.

What kind of place could the graduate school of the Magic Department be?

As I shook my head at the thought, Reto’s hand suddenly rested on my right shoulder.

He wore a smile of relief. It seemed he had relaxed at last.

“I’m glad you’re fine, buddy. To be honest, I thought you might skip the next lecture.”

Next lecture? At those words, I recalled where I was headed.

Though my memories of the past week had been wiped clean, all lectures were scheduled based on days, so I knew the place I needed to go hadn’t changed.

And that place was the swordsmanship training ground.

A weak gasp escaped my lips, one filled with dismay.

“I heard that Yuridina’s brat was discharged yesterday.”

With that, Reto, still wearing a warm smile, patted my shoulder a few more times.

“I heard she’s really furious? But if you don’t have to worry about that, that’s a relief.”

No, that seemed like something I should worry about.

I felt a bit of cold sweat beginning to form as I thought that.

It was all too obvious how a prideful beast would react when its pride was wounded.

---