As soon as classes ended for the day, Oliver made his way to the infirmary. It was his first time here, but it looked exactly as he had expected. Clean white walls, beds with crisp white sheets lined up in rows, and opaque white curtains housing each bed.

Honestly, all this white was a little blinding…

Oliver walked in and looked around. A few of the curtains were closed, and if Cadmus was here, then he was probably behind one of those curtains.

“What do you need kid? You injured somewhere?” A woman asked from behind him.

She stepped in front of him and examined him closely. The first thing Oliver noticed about her was the angry red scar that extended from the top of her forehead and reached all the way down to her neck. Without that mark marring her face, Oliver felt that she would have been a very beautiful woman, having possessed strong bronze-like skin and wavy brown hair. As was the case with almost everything else in this room, she too was wearing a white coat—though at least there was the symbol of the Laurucian Academy of Magic sewn onto her breast pocket in midnight blue.

“Hm… no injuries,” She said, “And you don’t look sick either. A visitor then?”

Oliver nodded, feeling a little frightened. She looked like an ordinary—if a little more focused than usual—doctor or nurse. However, there was a hint of intensity in her eyes that made Oliver want to take a step back.

“I-I’m here to visit Cadmus Guiles. I’m his friend.”

“One second. What’s your name?”

“Oliver Vinari.”

She nodded, and headed to one of the beds, opening the curtains a tiny bit,

“Guiles, you have a visitor: Oliver Vinari. Says he’s your friend. Is that right?”

Though Oliver could not see Cadmus' reaction, he did hear him ask,

“Short brown hair, about as tall as me?”

The woman looked at him, and then turned back to Cadmus,

“Yeah, and he looks super plain.”

“Then yes, he is my friend.”

Oliver wasn’t sure if he was happy with that being his description, but, well, it wasn’t wrong so he couldn’t really contest it either.

The woman gestured for him to enter, then went to visit one of the other beds without another word. Oliver did as instructed, and his brain screeched to a halt.

There Cadmus was, exactly as Will had described him: “covered in bandages from head to toe.”

The bandages were wrapped tightly around his body, and only his face had been given a little leeway, allowing Oliver to recognize his features. Alice was peacefully sleeping on the pillow right beside him.

“It’s a little surprising to see just how many precautions they take with their injured students,” Cadmus said a little curiously, as though nothing was out of the ordinary here, “A girl accidentally walked in here this morning, and she was detained and interrogated for it.”

Some distant corner of Oliver’s mind realized that the girl must have been Will’s sister.

“It’s because nobles go to this school as well, so they don’t want to take any risks…” Oliver explained automatically, as he was usually wont to do. Then his mind finally caught up to him, “No wait! More importantly, what happened!?”

“According to Doctor Valentine, I’ve accidentally managed to severely tear most of my muscles,” Cadmus explained.

“Are you alright?” Oliver asked, idly noting down in the back of his head that the doctor’s name was ‘Valentine’, “And how did you ‘accidentally’ manage to do something like that!?”

Cadmus smiled, “Thankfully, due to the potions Doctor Valentine has administered to me, I should be able to recover in just a few days—well before the tournament begins.”

Oliver had been asking more along the lines of, ‘are you in pain?’ or, ‘is there anything you’re having trouble with?’ However, clearly, ‘are you alright?’ meant something completely different to Cadmus.

“As for what I was doing…” Cadmus continued, unaware of Oliver’s thoughts, “Well, I was trying to find a way that would enable me to defeat my opponents in a one-on-one setting—especially since I have no talent for combat.”

There was that word again: talent.

Cadmus, of all people, had no talent for something? How could he say such a thing when Oliver was standing right here? Did he just not understand what talent meant?

“And… you failed?” Oliver guessed, trying to bury his thoughts by moving the conversation forward.

Cadmus tried shaking his head, but then stopped after wincing in pain. It seemed that the muscles in his neck had been torn as well.

“Not at all,” he said, “In fact, I succeeded by too large of a margin. That’s how I ended up here.”

“Oh? What exactly did you succeed in?”

Oliver’s voice sounded muted to his own ears. This wasn’t the question that he wanted to ask. This wasn’t the topic that he wanted to talk about. There was a bigger question that kept buzzing around his mind like a particularly tenacious fly that refused to leave him alone.

The memory of his unsigned form flashed through his mind.

He thought he had made his peace with it, but apparently not. Still, there was no point in thinking about it. Some people had talent, and some people didn’t. And he was part of the latter. Agonizing over this would only lead to further pain.

“…I think that I’ll keep my efforts a secret for now,” Cadmus said after some thought, “You still have time to turn in your sign-up form for the tournament after all.”

Perhaps it was the strange vote of confidence that Cadmus had given him by treating him as an opponent worthy of wariness, or perhaps it was because he had finally hit the limit of his frustration after this past week… whatever the case, Oliver suddenly found his mouth moving before his brain could catch up,

“Cadmus, were you joking when you said that I would have probably done well in the tournament if I signed up?”

Cadmus looked curious at the sudden change in topic, but instead of asking about it, he answered,

“Of course not. I simply stated what I thought.”

“Why?” Oliver pressed, “Why would you think that I’m good enough to compete when we have so many people with so much more talent in our year?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Cadmus asked, “Even if you don’t have the talent that people such as Ardea posses, you still diligently pay attention during class, and that time you answered all of Professor Mackenzie’s questions correctly during Ardea and Rex’s fight proves that your effort is genuine. That makes you more skilled than most of our class at least—and while I don’t know much about the rest of our year, if they’re like most of the people in our class, then you’ll definitely do well.”

91/100—

Oliver’s quiz score popped into his mind, as though summoned by Cadmus’ words. Professor Mackenzie had said something similar, that the people who had gotten below a ninety were highly advised to not sign up for the tournament, which conversely meant that people who had gotten above a ninety would at least stand a decent chance at surviving the tournament.

But, Professor Mackenzie had said nothing about doing well in it. In fact, she hadn’t said anything explicit about those who had gotten above a ninety at all. The quiz had just been a way to determine the lowest possible cutoff point, and Oliver had barely passed.

“I still think you should participate,” Cadmus said, in complete contrast to Oliver’s thoughts, “Yes, you don’t have an amazing talent for magic, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give it a try. Who knows how far you’ll get?”

Oliver felt a hollow smile spread across his face. That was Cadmus’ modus operandi, wasn’t it?

“It doesn’t hurt to try, huh…?” Oliver murmured.

Cadmus probably lived by these words. How else would he have been able to create a homunculus in a world that told him that creating life with magic was impossible?

However, Cadmus didn’t understand. Maybe it was petty, but it was humiliating for Oliver to show just how pathetic he was to the world—especially since he would be competing against geniuses whose talent would completely overwhelm his meagre skills.

For people who were likelier to fail, it did hurt to try.

Almost as though he was answering Oliver’s thoughts, Cadmus said, frowning,

“I never said that it doesn’t hurt to try.”

Oliver blinked,

“…What?”

“I never said that it doesn’t hurt to try,” Cadmus repeated, “When I was trying to create Alice, I didn’t have an unlimited amount of laurite. If I had failed back then, I would have lost my entire supply of laurite without having anything to show for it. It was a terrifying risk, but I still tried anyway, because I believed that it was worth it to try in order to accomplish my goal.”

Oliver’s eyes widened. Of course… how could he have forgotten?

‘For people who were likelier to fail, it did hurt to try’?

That wasn’t a defense against Cadmus’ beliefs at all! Cadmus had been a child when he had lost his sister, and like any child, he had just wanted his family back.

All alone, possessing only a limited amount of resources, and most importantly—

‘Magic cannot create life.’

With this iron-clad law of magic telling him that accomplishing his goal was futile…

Who in the world was likelier to fail than Cadmus?

And yet, he tried anyway. And he proved that there was a chance to revive his sister by doing so.

Oliver’s finger twitched slightly, the image of his unsigned form popping into his mind again unbidden. What did that say about him…?

…But this was different wasn’t it? He already knew that he didn’t stand a chance against these amazing people. He had already seen the proof of their skill and talent up close.

“Still,” Cadmus said, as though he could hear Oliver’s thoughts, “I believe that people like you, who put in the effort to increase their skills and knowledge can definitely compete with those who have talent.”

Cadmus wasn’t the type to spout motivational words like that, so he probably truly believed in those words. However, Oliver couldn’t find it in himself to agree.

Yes, he had indeed put in effort into his schoolwork, however, he knew that he still wasn’t even on the same level as any of those people who were overflowing with talent.

Compete against them? Oliver felt that he wouldn’t even be able to force them to put in any effort against him.

So why did Cadmus sound so sure that he would be able to do well in the upcoming tournament?

“Cadmus… what does talent mean to you?” Oliver slowly asked.

Cadmus gave it some thought, “I believe it refers to someone’s natural aptitude in a skill or subject.”

“Then why do you believe that effort can contest with someone born with talent?” Oliver asked.

“Because I don’t believe that anyone is born with talent,” Cadmus said, “I agree, there are probably genetic factors involved, however, I believe what we call ‘natural aptitude’ or ‘talent’ simply comes from whatever people take an interest in as children. Those children explore and study that certain skill or subject, so when they grow up, they have a sturdier foundation of knowledge for it. I believe that is all there is to it.”

Oliver considered Cadmus’ words. At the very least, it was a nice thought—and, it explained why Cadmus believed that effort could match up to talent. To Cadmus, talent was just effort people had put in when they were children, with a light sprinkling of genetic factors on top of it.

But that was just it. To Oliver it was just a nice thought. Couldn’t Cadmus see the clear difference between those with talent and those without? Couldn’t he see just how vast that gap was? How could he possibly say that such an enormous gap could be covered with just effort?

“And you think that’s where your talent comes from as well?” Oliver asked Cadmus, “Because you studied magic when you were a child?”

Cadmus nodded, “I was interested in magic even before I could use it, and even though I lost my interest in it after my sister died, I still continued to study it. I sincerely believe that all that time that I spent with magic is where my talent comes from.”

Oliver smirked in amusement, wondering how Cadmus could utter his arrogant words so easily. He gave a reason for it, yes, but in the end, he never once denied that he had talent.

Then Oliver’s mouth curled into a frown. Still… he simply couldn’t agree with Cadmus’ view. It… didn’t seem wrong per se, but it definitely felt like something crucial was missing from it. Something told Oliver that if he had started studying magic at the same time as Cadmus, he still wouldn’t have been able to reach the same heights that Cadmus had.

“Is that so…?” He said half-heartedly.

Cadmus tried to shrug, but then winced in pain. Wow, he really had torn most of his muscles, hadn’t he?

“Of course, the choice on whether you will join the tournament remains yours,” Cadmus said almost uncaringly, “I was simply explaining my view as to why you would do well in it because you asked.”

Oliver felt a headache began brewing in his forehead. Of course, Cadmus had simply said that he believed that Oliver would have probably done well in the tournament, and then left it at that. It was Oliver himself who had continued pursuing this topic for some reason.

Why was he continuing to dig when he already knew the answer?

‘Oliver Vinari should not join the tournament because he will easily lose to the exceptional people who will take part as well.’

This was the answer he had come to when he had first received the sign-up form. This was the answer that he knew to be true beyond anything else.

So what was the point of struggling so hard to find an alternate answer? What was the point of exploring Cadmus’ out-of-touch statement?

Because Oliver wanted to win? Because he wanted to be exceptional as well?

He already knew that such things couldn’t be. It was best to just keep his head down, lest he end up embarrassing himself by trying to be something he was not.

“I… I’ll be going now,” Oliver finally said, looking through the window at the madder-stained sky, “Get well soon.”

“Very well,” Cadmus said, “Goodbye.”

As Oliver turned to leave, an unrelated question struck his mind. He turned back to face Cadmus,

“Wait, you said that you lost interest in magic? I thought you loved magic.”

Cadmus smiled, though it felt hollow to the core to Oliver.

“Indeed, I loved magic when I was a child. But now, I simply see it as the most effective method for achieving my goal.”

After leaving the infirmary, Oliver simply wandered around the campus, watching as the setting sun turned the world red. It was almost dinner time, and so going to the dorms to drop off his bag and coming back to the canteen in the campus building just seemed like a waste of effort. This Academy was ridiculously large after all—it could easily be mistaken for a small city.

With about twenty minutes left till dinner, and nothing really interesting to do, he made his way to the canteen. Some people were already there, waiting for the serving stations to open. Oliver glanced at the table he had sat at during lunch today, and the unpleasant memory of Jack and his friends played out in his mind again.

Oliver couldn’t see them here right now, but he hoped that they wouldn’t come to his table again. The way they had boasted about how well they had done with minimal effort, and the way they had almost ridiculed those who were trying their best—

A shock of realization ran through his body. He had been unable to figure out what was missing from Cadmus’ viewpoint, he had been unable to understand why he couldn’t just agree with it. But, in their own twisted way, perhaps Jack and his friends had held the answer the entire time!

Excitement pumped throughout his veins as his legs took off without his input. This feeling coursing through his body was akin to being one step away from solving a near-unsolvable equation.

He ran through the near-empty halls, and, panting, he opened the door to a particular classroom. Although now, it had been repurposed into a guild room.

Oliver entered and saw that there were only five people here—three of which he had met personally: Arthur, Lancelot, and Gawain. The other two, Gwen Eviere and Morgana Le Fay, he knew were in another class, but still the same year.

They all had been sitting at a table, talking amongst each other when Oliver had entered. His sudden entrance had caused them all to turn as one and look at him curiously. If this had been even a few minutes ago, Oliver would have been scared speechless. He was terrible at dealing with powerful and famous people, but right now, adrenaline was suppressing his fright.

“Your Highness, I want to ask you a question!” Oliver said more boldly than ever before.

Lancelot, tall and rugged, took a step forward, “How dare you just barge in here and—”

Arthur held up a hand, his piercing blue eyes sparkling with curiosity,

“Lancelot, it’s fine. Let him speak.”

Lancelot’s mouth closed with a click, and Oliver nodded to show his gratefulness, “Thank you, Your Highness. As for my question: do you intend to join the Twin Peaks Magical Tournament?”

Arthur nodded, “Yes. We received our forms earlier since Avalon is so far North, so we’ve already sent our forms to be signed. It should arrive in a few more days.”

“And do you intend to win the tournament?”

Arthur nodded again without a beat of hesitation, “Of course.”

“Even though you know you’ll be going up against people who are known to be more powerful than you, such as the Dragon Princess, and…”

His eyes flicked toward Lancelot. It was well-known that Lancelot was considered to be more powerful and skilled than Arthur. However, saying that here…

For better or worse, both of them seemed to understand what he was hinting at, and Lancelot’s face twisted in outrage,

“You dare—!?”

Arthur held up his hand again and gave Lancelot a gentle smile, “Lancelot, it’s fine.” Then he turned back to Oliver, and all Oliver could see in them was genuine resolution, “Yes, I know there are people stronger than me participating in this tournament. Nevertheless, I will win. I am the Golden Prince of Victory, after all.”

Oliver unconsciously took a step back. The certainty with which Arthur had declared that…

That was what was missing from Cadmus’ belief. He had never mentioned the most important factor for success at all.

Effort was important, yes, and genetic aptitude helped as well. But there was another thing that all these talented people—all these people who stood above the rest had, that others didn’t:

Ambition.

They had all set their sights above themselves. They weren’t afraid of being embarrassed or losing… or perhaps they were, but they were still aiming for heights they had not yet reached. Those who stood below them were content with what they could do, and found comfort in the surety of staying in one place.

But not these people. Not Arthur, not Lancelot, not Gawain, not Ardea, not Cadmus…

And that was what made these people truly great.

“Ever forward, ever upward!”

That was the Laurucian Academy of Magic’s motto. Oliver had simply considered them to be pretty words, but perhaps there was something to them after all.

The image of his unsigned form flashed through his mind again.

Something negative welled up in his heart. Was it annoyance? Or disgust? Or maybe frustration? Oliver didn’t know what, but he couldn’t help but think,

I… what the hell have I been doing…?

Two days passed, and the sun dawned without cover, brightening up the new Saturday. Weekends were holidays, so he was surprised to hear sounds coming from within the classroom as he approached it.

“…there’s a good store in the twilight district where you can buy one,” Professor Mackenzie said, sounding a little lost, “But you already know how to create one with magic, don’t you? Mages don’t need something like that since we can even apply elemental effects to it if we create it ourselves. The formula is ridiculously simple as well…”

“Thank you, but it is something I need,” Oliver’s ears twitched. Was that… Cadmus…? “I shall be going now, thank you once again for your information.”

Oliver opened the door, and spotted Professor Mackenzie, who had a pile of papers on her desk, and Cadmus, who looked ready to leave. There were still a few bandages visible on Cadmus’ neck and arms, but he looked far better than two days ago for the most part.

They both spotted him at the same time.

“Hello, Oliver,” Cadmus said, as though it was completely normal to see him here at this time.

Alice gave him a silent wave and a smile, and Oliver waved back at them both.

“Is there something you need, Mr. Vinari?” Professor Mackenzie asked, “If it’s a private matter, then I can send the brat away. He was just leaving anyway.”

Oliver shook his head, “No, I just came to turn in this.”

He pulled out his sign-up form from his bag and handed it to Professor Mackenzie.

“…Are you sure?” She asked as she looked over his completely signed form.

Oliver nodded with a smile, “Yes.”

Professor Mackenzie grinned back as she opened a drawer and placed his form inside, “That’s a good look in your eye.”

“Thank you.”

“Run along now, brats,” Professor Mackenzie, making shooing motions with her hands, “I’ve still a lot of work to do.”

Oliver and Cadmus complied. As they exited the classroom, Cadmus gave Oliver a mildly curious look.

Oliver explained, “My family is in Anguis for the tournament as well, so I just got them to sign it yesterday.”

That was probably not what Cadmus wanted to know, but the whole explanation as to why he had changed his mind would take way too long. So, Oliver figured, this worked.

Maybe Cadmus understood, because he merely said,

“I see.”

Oliver shot Cadmus a smirk, "Also, don't expect me to just serve as a stepping stone. I know that I probably won't be able to win first place, but that doesn't mean I won't try my best to do so anyway."

A faint smile tugged at Cadmus' lips, and he said again,

"I see."