Far from the towns where people gathered lying a tower. It rose as a mighty fortress on the grassy knoll. Under a sky with a little puffed cloud, brilliant white in the sunshine, it was a sense of permanence and perspective on the passage of time.

There was a demoiselle sitting by the window. Long rose-coloured hair extended past her waist, her eyes bearing the same tint, she would be described as a stunning beauty, resembling that of a fairy.

This tower has been her home, protected by a barrier. Standing from afar, people will only see a plain ridge running to the horizon. In other words, you could not see the tower from outside. This was to avoid unnecessary intercourse with trespassers.

Quiet. Peaceful. Harmonious.

The tower did offer a wonderful panorama of the terrain. The owner of this tower could launch her eyes far away and see the huge skeleton of a demon.

The reason why this remote area was chosen to be her home was obvious. 'Duty', she would say. Like Secre, she had to look after the statue of the first Magic Emperor, who defeated the demon.

After all, he was also one of her disciples.

Oh yes, the first Magic Emperor of the Clover Kingdon, Lemiel Silvamillion Clover, was taught by the Royal Preceptor named Freya Sapientia. In other words, her.

The following generations of royalties were born with tremendous magical power, so-called mana. As they were endowed with such capability, it got harder to control it properly. Misusing their power could lead to self-destruction.

To prevent that, the Royal Preceptor ( and later - her successors) was called to continually teach the royalties of Clover. However, not everyone got the honour but only the selected.

As said "selected", they all became prominent individuals of the kingdom - Kings, Magic Emperors, or Grand Magic Knights.

Over the time span of 500 years, there have been 24 Royal Preceptors. They are all the lineal descendants of the first honourable Preceptor. And they inherited the name of their great-grand ancestor.

Or, that was what other people believed.

Only the disciples of her knew that: Every Royal Preceptors in the history referred to just one woman.

The so-called descendants, after all, was just a set-up.

'Freya Sapientia was an immortalist.' Just that information was enough to stir the whole continent.

She could have moved from place to place to hide her identification. Yet, she couldn't live that way. If the Deity saw "magic" as the root of human crimes, then she, the one vouchsafed to human grimoires, would be a criminal.

She could not enlighten every creature, but she could place her faith upon them (*), the ones who had changed, and would change, the world.

Her disciples in the current era have been chosen. She guessed, by then, they should have been informed of the news.

From the cheshire grin came a glorious sense of expectation. She's curious... What would their first impressions of her be?

Fuegoleon Vermillion - the eldest son of Vermillion household.

Nozel Silva - the eldest son of Silva household, also, Acier's child.

oOo

Silva's Residence

The garden

Nozel got called to the garden - the garden that his dear mother really loved.

The garden stood there as if the surrounding nature had embraced it, that the flora flowed within it as much as around it. The lake-side air was pungent with the fragrance of jasmine. This was no natural basin filled with meltwater, but the luxury addition to a formal garden by an earl with both copious leisure time and care.

The sight of his mother sitting on the rocker came into his view. He took steps closer to her and bowed his head.

"Greetings, mother."

Acier was looking pleased. Her eldest child has always been her pride since the moment he was born. Her chile grew up with the burden of royalty. Nozel has been doing a lot to live up to all the expectations.

He did hide a few things from her though. The fact that he was having some troubles controlling his innate magic. He seemed a few down recently. So the news might lift his spirit.

"Nozel, have you heard about my former preceptor?"

The mention of 'preceptor' swung to his mind. Was his mother talking about the Royal Preceptor?

"Her successor will come to the palace soon. And Nozel, you will become her disciple."

He paused for a moment. He was at a loss for words. It took a second or two for the information to sink in.

" I-Is it true, mother?"

Those were the words left from the young Nozel Silva's mouth. He stared blankly at Acier as she nodded. Her silver hair moved in the wind as if it felt the need to add an exclamation point to her grandeur.

"You should prepare and welcome her with utmost gratitude."

"Yes!" Nozel was elated at the news.

Only God knew how grateful he was. His mouth curved up as a small fire formed.

Nozel had heard all the rumours from veteran servants.

They said no one could use magic as sophisticated and dignified as his mother, and it all thanked a certain person - the previous Royal Preceptor.

The servants said even his grandparents, the honourable Knights, were once taught by her predecessor.

Could he become one? A kiddo who even could not manipulate his magic properly.

That was still a secret he kept by his side. Yet one day, people would know of it. Such a thing would sully the good name of the Silva household.

The more he's ashamed of himself, the more he looked up the rumoured Preceptor.

"What is she like?"

"What kind of person she is?"

Those questions kept wandering in his mind. Nozel's cheeks were suddenly kissed pink like a spring rose.

If we think about it... From the start, before they even met, Nozel had already taken a liking to her. Yet, the kind that is respectful and quiet.

Watching all of it, Acier, his mother just smiled lightly. Even she was amazed that Freya would choose her child of all people. Well, she even turned down prince Augustus Kira's proposal to become his teacher.

Acier was looking forward to their meeting as well. Her 'once' teacher now became her son's. Didn't it sound like destiny?

oOo

Vermillion's residence

Training area

Meanwhile, the news had also reached Vermillion. However, unlike Nozel, Fuegoleon's instructor - Theresa Rapual - was the one to deliver it. 

When first heard about the message, she couldn't believe her ears either. She even thought the Preceptor had erred. Theresa assumed that the Preceptor herself would not accept just any proposal. Her disciples must be refined, well-behaved, modest... She could not imagine how the Preceptor would treat him when discovering that he was still a nosy brat.

She then glanced towards Fuegoleon, who was firing his magic around without a particular aim and then laughed like a drain, thinking that it was awesome.

Theresa "..." It's truly worrisome.

What did he even learn during etiquette class? Was it the method that's wrong?

"Hey Fueggy, tomorrow, I won't be here for your class."

"What, I don't have to take the class tomorrow!?" The young Fuegoleon Vermillion exclaimed, he bursting into laughter. 

'Is that how you put my words!?' An angry mark appeared on her forehead as she watched him keep on laughing.

The laugh came from him like a newly spring leak. From deep inside his chest came a great shocking motion. As you might call, this was the feeling of having a day off!

"Miss Theresa!" He turned to his magic instructor, smiling brightly, "Do you go on a mission tomorrow? That's great!- Ah, I mean, I hope everything will go well! Yes, that's it!"

Theresa "-.-!" This brat...!

"Unfortunately..." She let out a weary smile, "I'm not having any mission nor can you just laze around tomorrow. You get the honour to be selected as one of the Royal Preceptor's disciples. She will be in charge of your education from now on."

"That renowned Preceptor, huh? Nah, I'm good. She could have a day off tomorrow then, no need to come all the here." Fuegoleon shrugged his shoulders, having already been tired of studying.

"You bastard! Who are you referring to 'that', huh?" She squawked and pinched his ears hardly, "Listen up! Other than just the General Magic course, you will have to take other classes like Magic Analysis, Ancient Curses, Conjuration, Defense Magic, Magical Potion, Geography, Society, History, Foreign Economy, Political Law, Animal Language and so on."

"..." Fuegoleon stood dumbfounded, "ISN'T THAT TOO MUCH!!?"

"Fueggy. Your manner." Theresa reprimanded him as he kept his way of speech.

"My aim is to become a knight! Not a scholar," He huffed, "By the way? Is there really a person who has mastered all those subjects? Then she must be an Old Hag! Do I have to learn them? From an Old Hag who even came up with Animal Language?"

"... I guess so." Theresa started to feel tired when dealing with this child as she massaged her temples, "So what? Is age the problem, or it was the experience that you do not like the idea?"

"No, that's not it." He mumbled in his mouth and then shouted, "It's not that I hate the subjects...:

'Yes, you are.'

"It is the Preceptor that I hate!!"

"!!!!"

"Since she made me to learn all of them!" He crossed his arm, voicing his disapproval.

Theresa wore a triumphant smirk, "Oh, that's it? I met her once and was just afraid that you will fall head over heel with her at first sight. You know, she's a real beauty."

"No chance!"

Fuegoleon, on the other hand, seemed to not have a good impression on her though. By calling her "Old Hag", he will soon regret it though...