Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

Snowfall Dalheim laughed coldly at Binaeril’s words. 

“What nonsense are you talking about? The idea that I would try to kill my beloved, only brother? People might misunderstand if they heard that.”

Binaeril knew it wasn’t a misunderstanding. His brother, Snowfall Dalheim, had tried to kill him before. Seeing Binaeril’s grim expression, Snowfall lowered himself to meet Binaeril’s eye level, adopting a kindly expression as he played the role of the benevolent older brother.

“My brother, Binaeril. I know what feelings you harbor towards me. There are so many misunderstandings between us. One day, you will understand. I have never hated you.”

“What misunderstanding are you talking about?”

Binaeril knew in his mind that the figure before him was not his real brother. His brother was currently in the Holy Kingdom of Vitory. As the Sword of the Order, he would be too busy to make time for such a journey. More importantly, he was not the type to come running to see his younger brother unless Binaeril was deemed an enemy.

Realizing the person before him was not his real brother filled Binaeril with confidence. He had enough confidence to mock his words, something he had never done to his real brother.

“Was it when you believed in heretical doctrines? Or when the Order’s soldiers came and you hid heretical scriptures under my bed?”

Snowfall Dalheim’s face hardened at the unexpected retort.

“Or maybe it was when Mother had to take the blame for those scriptures and was put on trial? Why don’t you explain that in front of Mother’s pyre back home? Tell me, what exactly is the misunderstanding?”

Snowfall now dropped his smile. The gentle expression from before had vanished.

“My little brother has grown quite a bit, hasn’t he?”

It was Snowfall’s unique way of reprimanding his insolent younger brother. To Binaeril, it sounded like that. Snowfall had never tolerated any rebellion from his brother. Not even once.

Binaeril struggled not to waver under his brother’s gaze. To him, Snowfall’s name had always been synonymous with ‘archenemy.’

“I heard belatedly that you went to Elfenbine.”

Despite Binaeril’s sarcasm, Snowfall changed the subject, showing he didn’t care about Binaeril’s long-standing emotions, which he dismissed as ‘misunderstandings.’

“Elfenbine? The houses of Ruben and Dalheim have long served the Order. But the Magic Tower?”

In his familiar manner, Snowfall touched on a sensitive spot in Binaeril’s heart. His tone was always one of treating Binaeril as an immature child. Whenever he heard such talk, Binaeril felt as though he was gravely out of place.

“Don’t disgrace our family and my name. Grow up quietly and dedicate yourself to the Order, or stay hidden in the family’s mansion. Why choose unnecessary paths?”

Not all mages were always revered everywhere on the continent.

In regions controlled by the Order, where its influence was strong, those who followed magic were often treated as heretics. The Kingdom of Ruben, Binaeril’s homeland, was one such place.

“I achieved everything in the Order. People hesitate to address me without calling me the Knight of Salvation. And what about you? If you reflected on your past, you would at least not obstruct the Order’s path.”

His brother spoke Binaeril’s name as if calling a servant. That was always how his brother had pronounced his name.

“What do I need to reflect on?” Binaeril asked.

“Reflect on? Blaming your mistakes on me. Acting as if you had no part in Mother’s death.”

“Are you saying Mother died because of me?”

“Yes. She took the blame to protect you. If it wasn’t your fault, whose was it?”

“It was your fault. You hid the forbidden book of the Order…”

“Enough! The forbidden book was found under your bed. The heretic was you, not me. Do you have any proof that I put it there?”

Binaeril had witnessed his brother meeting strangers many times during their childhood. He had turned a blind eye to it. It wasn’t his brother who had covered for Binaeril’s mistakes; it was the other way around. 

Snowfall dismissed Binaeril’s rebuttal with a stern gaze and tone.

“Mother died because of you. You need to pay for your sins, not blame me.”

Snowfall accused Binaeril in the same familiar manner, one that Binaeril knew all too well. Binaeril knew clearly—it was his brother’s fault, it was his brother who had killed their mother. But the words never left his throat, instead, guilt strangled his heart.

Sometimes, familiar words hurt more because they are so familiar. In this space, where no one defended him, where it was just him and his brother, Binaeril could never win. As his spirit began to break, he heard a voice from within.

-Interesting, very interesting.

‘Veritas?’

It was the voice of the Book of Truth.

-You foolish boy. Are you really going to succumb to this illusion? That’s not logic; it’s just absurdity.

‘But…’

-No buts. Look up. Look at his smug face.

Binaeril observed his brother’s face. As Veritas said, he wore a twisted smile.

-Didn’t you become a mage to wipe that smug look off his face?

-Watch this.

Veritas manifested in a human form. It was the first time it appeared outside the hallways of the Grand Library.

“Does this still seem real to you?”

He extended his arm and sliced through Snowfall’s face. Veritas’s arm passed through his brother’s face like smoke, leaving no trace.

“You’re not losing to your brother. You’re being persuaded by the memory of him in your mind. How do you expect to defeat him with such a weak mindset?”

Veritas swung his arm, dispersing the image of Snowfall. Although the misty form of Snowfall quickly reassembled, Veritas’s cloak began to flutter. As he summoned his power, the surroundings distorted as if they were in the eye of a storm.

-This boy is my host. Only I can taint his mind. Who dares defy the Book of Truth?

Veritas’s words were imbued with magic. They were directed at the illusion of Snowfall but also at the weak-hearted Binaeril.

-Stand tall, boy. You are the master of the Book of Truth. As long as I allow it, you cannot be broken by anyone.

It was a solemn declaration, acknowledging Binaeril as both his master and partner in Veritas’s unique way.

The Snowfall before him was an insubstantial enemy, unaffected by Veritas’s words. But Binaeril steadied his resolve. It no longer mattered what kind of person Snowfall Dalheim was. What mattered was what kind of person Binaeril Dalheim needed to be.

Binaeril took a deep breath, filling his lungs to the brim, and shouted.

“Be gone, phantom. Wait in your sanctuary. Binaeril Dalheim will come to avenge himself.”

The Sword of the Order, the Knight of Salvation, Snowfall Dalheim, was his enemy.

The third and final trial of Scala tested the candidates’ mental fortitude. The first trial tested their composure as mages, the second tested their raw magical power, and the final trial tested their unyielding will. Through these three stages of tempering, a student of Elfenbine was finally forged into a true mage.

Sylvia and Rike were also confronting their pasts.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, Violet,” Sylvia said, kneeling before a petite girl who came up to her waist. “But I can’t live in mourning forever. I have to protect the princess.”

Sylvia placed her hand over her sister’s. Their hands passed through each other, slicing through the air. She remembered the coldness of her sister’s hand the last time she touched it, a chill that pierced her heart.

With tearful eyes, Sylvia knelt and embraced the empty air where her sister’s body should have been. Though she felt nothing, it was as if the spirit of her past was comforting her. If her sister were alive, she might have said, “Sister, I’m sorry. And thank you.”

Thus, Sylvia passed her final trial.

Friederike Albrecht, the second princess of the Empire, also recognized that everything she saw was a dream or an illusion. The person before her, her sister, would never blame her, no matter what.

“You abandoned all the burdens on me and ran away. I hate you, Rike.”

Rike shook her head slowly.

“Charlotte would never think that way. Even if I hated myself for the same reason, she would still be the one to comfort me.”

As the three overcame, bid farewell to, and denied their pasts, all the trials of Scala came to an end. They opened their eyes to a familiar place. They were standing in Elfenbine.

“This year, only three candidates passed.”

In the auditorium stood Dean Yulio and the supervising professors. Binaeril, Rike, and Sylvia were dazed as the professors’ eyes focused on them. Looking around, they saw other candidates who had entered Scala with them standing around the auditorium’s perimeter. Some were receiving treatment, others held their heads in apparent distress, and some had fainted with foam at their mouths.

“Is it over?”

Binaeril was the first to grasp the situation. Angelo Yulio, the chief examiner, nodded at him.

“Congratulations. The three of you have passed Elfenbine’s Scala.”

An attendant brought out golden badges, symbols of their status as official mages, bearing the emblem of Elfenbine: olive branches and hazelnut fruits.

“From today, you have completed all the courses at Elfenbine and have been certified as official mages by the Magic Tower. After a one-week waiting period, you will be officially dispatched.”

Dean Yulio was the first to start clapping. The other professors joined in to applaud the successful candidates. Angelo Yulio, Pierre Blanchot, Avia Flynn, and even Professor Freud were seated on one side. Seeing Professor Freud reluctantly clapping, though with a begrudging expression, was quite satisfying to Binaeril.

The three of them clasped each other’s hands. Rike and Sylvia sighed with relief, their faces flushed with a sense of accomplishment.

“Well done, newly appointed mages.”

Binaeril gave a playful bow, tipping an imaginary hat with a gentlemanly flair. The two girls matched his gesture with a light bow and met each other’s eyes. 

They laughed together, filled with a shared sense of triumph.