Step towards the Dream

"Don't throw it carelessly. If it's damaged, I'll die."

"I don't like that either. How can a book be more important than a person's life? Even if someone were to burn the library down, I'd protect you, so don't worry."

"As long as you stay still, that will never happen, so please be careful."

Shirone had never spoken such sentimental words before.

But that was just who Shirone was.

Firm and strict in all matters, yet never cold.

Rian liked that about Shirone.

"I enjoy being with you, but staying cooped up in the library all the time is suffocating."

"Why are you holed up in here anyway? What about your training?"

"Just the basic drills. I wanted to study in the library for a bit."

Shirone trembled slightly.

"Then study quickly. What are you doing right now?"

"I'm bored! Bored! Bored!"

Lying flat on his back, Rian flailed his arms and legs in protest.

Ignoring him, Shirone turned toward the desk.

He wasn't particularly worried about Rian's laziness.

If Shirone was like water, Rian was fire—once ignited, an uncontrollable blaze.

'He just needs a spark.'

Shirone returned to Rian with a history book in hand.

"Get up and bring your book. We're studying."

"Ugh, training has been so intense lately."

Practically pushing Rian out of the study, Shirone sat down and opened his history book.

Lately, fieldwork had been finishing faster than paperwork, giving him more free time.

Once he focused on the book, the pages turned rapidly.

Most of the content was already familiar, and he could even predict what came next.

It meant his knowledge had surpassed the book's scope.

After mastering 650 history books, the remaining 200 were easy to absorb.

"Hey, Shirone. I found an interesting book."

Rian, who had just picked a book to read, marveled at the speed at which Shirone flipped through pages.

There were times Rian had spent over ten hours just getting through a single page.

He had started reading only to wake up and realize it was already morning.

Trying not to interrupt, he quietly sat beside Shirone and opened his book.

'Swordsman vs. Mage.'

That was the title.

"Foreword: You must have asked yourself this question at least once—who would win in a duel between a swordsman and a mage?"

As Rian read aloud, Shirone's hand paused.

Even for a mage apprentice, it was an intriguing topic.

"I traveled the world in search of this answer. Even now, when I close my eyes, I can still see it. The Artusna Mountains, standing 6,000 meters tall. There, carnivorous trees devour mountain birds…"

Rian slammed the book shut.

"Boring as hell."

"What? I think it's interesting!"

At Shirone's sudden outburst, Rian flinched.

He had acted indifferent but had clearly been listening attentively.

"What's interesting about it? There aren't even any illustrations or swordsmanship scenes."

"You didn't even read a single page!"

"A writer should consider their readers. The beginning should be exciting, the ending emotional."

"This isn't a novel. Give me that book. So, who wins?"

"Who cares? Would a mage and a swordsman really be stupid enough to duel to the death? If the odds favor them, they'll fight; if not, they'll flee."

Shirone flipped through the middle section of 'Swordsman vs. Mage', scanning the pages.

"There might be cases where they have no choice but to fight. If that happens, who would win?"

"Hmm… If I had to guess…"

A sharp voice cut through the air from beyond the bookshelf.

"The swordsman, of course."

A man with a cold demeanor appeared.

Unlike Rian, he was not bulky but much taller, with long, lean limbs.

This was Rai Ozant, the second son of the Ozant family.

Despite being brothers, Rai and Rian were quite different in both aura and appearance.

For one, Rai's hair was pitch-black.

The Ozant family had two distinct bloodlines. The patriarch, Bishop, along with the eldest and second sons, had inherited black hair. The eldest daughter and the youngest, Rian, had inherited pale blue hair.

Additionally, Rian's grandfather, a state-certified third-tier swordsman, had also possessed blue hair.

Though the family was tightly bonded, they sometimes formed factions based on their bloodlines.

Which lineage took prominence varied with each generation. This time, the black-haired line of Bishop and Rai was in the lead.

"Ah! Hello," Shirone quickly bowed.

No one knew he was friends with Rian, and if their conversation had been overheard, he could be in serious trouble.

"A swordsman wins? How can you be so sure? Just because you're a swordsman?" Rian asked, using a mocking tone to keep Rai's attention.

"No need for lofty words like 'certainty.' Just look at the status of mages and swordsmen across the continents. The answer is obvious."

Though Rai seemed indifferent to his younger brother's association with a commoner, Shirone remained on guard.

Each time Rai visited the library, he proved to be a difficult person to read.

"Rank aside, this is about a duel. Are you saying the same thing on a battlefield? 'I outrank you, so step aside'?"

Rian smirked triumphantly.

But Rai didn't react, simply turning his indifferent gaze to Shirone.

"What do you think, kid?"

"Hmm… If we assume the highest level of skill, magic is overwhelmingly powerful and could critically injure a swordsman. But swordsmen have superior physical abilities, so if they close the distance before magic is cast…"

"No. You're wrong. A mage cannot defeat a swordsman."

Shirone clenched his fists. He was just an apprentice, but he was still a mage-in-training.

Rian, angered on behalf of his friend, also grew heated.

"And who are you to say that? You think you speak for all swordsmen?"

Rai smirked—one of the smirks Rian absolutely loathed.

"The pride of a swordsman isn't something just anyone can attain. But the knowledge of a mage? That can be bought with money."

His words had weight.

In truth, there were ways for swordsmen to counter magic, including artifacts known as 'Anti-Magic' devices.

These artifacts interfered with a mage's Spirit Zone, disrupting their concentration.

While not completely nullifying magic, they significantly weakened its effectiveness.

Rai's underlying message was clear: Mages were ultimately dependent on wealth and resources, while swordsmen relied on their own training and discipline.

Shirone took a deep breath.

"That is exactly what makes a mage."

Rai's eyebrow twitched.

Mages were scholars of the world's mysteries. Winning or losing a battle wasn't the point—it was about knowledge, understanding, and progress.

Rai's lips pressed together as he failed to find a counterargument.

Rian smirked.

'Heh, look at that. My friend's sharp tongue is unbeatable.'

For the first time, Rai looked visibly disturbed.

Then, without another word, he turned and left the library.

Shirone watched him go, deep in thought.

Swordsman vs. Mage.

Maybe, just maybe… reality wasn't so simple.