Night had fallen over the Magic City of Äußerst.
Lantern lights glowed softly along the streets, and the towering spires of the Continental Magic Association stood like silent guardians under the moonlight. Most of the city had already settled into quiet. Mages returned to their studies or their rest, and the tall white tower at the center of the city loomed peacefully against the dark sky.
But in one room inside that tower, someone was very much awake.
Shamrock's room was a mess.
Travel rations were spread across his desk. A small pile of dried meat, bread wrapped in cloth, a water flask, a small compass, and a few other necessities had been carefully gathered and laid out.
Shamrock stood in the middle of the room, hands on his hips, inspecting his preparations like a proud general.
"Alright," he muttered to himself.
"Food… water… rope… knife… extra socks…"
He paused.
"Extra socks are important."
Satisfied, he packed everything neatly into a travel bag and pulled the straps tight.
Then his eyes shifted toward the chair in the corner of the room.
Draped over it was his outfit.
Shamrock walked over and picked it up.
It was clearly modeled after the uniform worn by members of the Continental Magic Association. Deep navy fabric trimmed with gold accents. But unlike the formal robes worn by most mages, Shamrock's version was built for movement.
It had reinforced leather sections, fitted sleeves, and most noticeably…
A hood.
Shamrock pulled the outfit on piece by piece.
The jacket settled comfortably over his shoulders. He rolled his arms once, testing the flexibility.
"Perfect."
Next came the sword.
Resting against the wall was a well-maintained blade in a dark sheath. Shamrock picked it up and fastened it to his hip.
The moment the sword clicked into place, a wide grin spread across his face.
He walked over to the mirror hanging beside the door.
A thirteen-year-old boy stared back at him.
Messy green hair.
Bright determined eyes.
A navy jacket with a hood resting behind his neck.
A sword at his hip.
Shamrock placed his hands on his hips dramatically.
Then he gave himself a confident nod.
"I'm indeed a Knight King."
His grin widened.
"That old elf thinks she can keep me here contained."
He turned toward the window where the distant lights of the city could be seen.
"She better think again."
His hand rested on the hilt of his sword.
"I'll slay the Demon General Aura the Guillotine…"
His voice dropped into a dramatic whisper.
"…and put my name in history."
Right at that moment—
Click.
The door behind him opened.
Shamrock froze.
Slowly…
Very slowly…
He turned around.
Standing in the doorway was Sense.
Her long braided hair rested calmly over her shoulder as she stared at the scene in front of her.
Shamrock.
Fully dressed.
Sword on his hip.
Travel bag on the floor.
The silence stretched for several seconds.
Then Sense spoke.
"…What's happening here?"
Shamrock immediately panicked internally.
'Think.'
'Think fast.'
"Oh! Sense!"
He laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head.
"I was just… uh…"
He gestured vaguely toward the bag.
"…organizing my stuff."
Sense stepped into the room slowly.
Her eyes moved from the bag…
…to the sword…
…to the outfit.
"I see."
Shamrock nodded quickly.
"Yep."
"Organizing."
Sense pointed at the bag.
"Why is it packed?"
Shamrock didn't miss a beat.
"Oh, that?"
"Yes."
"I'm preparing."
"For what?"
Shamrock puffed out his chest proudly.
"For the future."
Sense blinked.
"The future."
"Exactly."
She stared at him for a moment.
Then her gaze shifted slightly.
"Then why," she asked calmly, "are you wearing your knight outfit?"
Shamrock paused.
He crossed his arms confidently.
And answered with a smug grin.
"A knight needs no reason to armor up."
Silence.
Sense stared at him.
Then suddenly…
She laughed.
A genuine laugh.
Shamrock blinked.
"What?"
Sense wiped a tear from her eye.
"You're unbelievable."
Shamrock shrugged.
"Really?"
Sense leaned against the wall, smiling faintly.
Her expression softened slightly.
"So," she asked casually, "did you talk to Serie-sama?"
Shamrock's smile faltered for just a moment.
Then he waved his hand dismissively.
"Ah… about that."
"Yes?"
"She was busy."
Sense tilted her head.
"Busy."
"Very busy."
"Too busy to speak with you."
"Exactly."
Sense studied his face carefully.
"And when will you talk to her?"
Shamrock grinned.
"Tomorrow."
Sense raised an eyebrow.
"Tomorrow."
"Yep."
"Definitely tomorrow."
She stared at him for a moment longer.
Then she sighed.
"…Alright."
Shamrock blinked in surprise.
"Really?"
"Yes."
Sense walked toward the door.
"Just make sure you do it."
Shamrock nodded quickly.
"I will!"
She stopped at the doorway and looked back at him.
"And Shamrock?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't do anything stupid tonight."
Shamrock gave her a confident thumbs up.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Sense shook her head slightly.
"…Good night."
"Good night!"
The door closed behind her.
Silence returned to the room.
Shamrock stood completely still for five seconds.
Ten seconds.
Twenty seconds.
Then—
"…That was close."
He wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead.
"Way too close."
He grabbed his travel bag.
Adjusted the strap across his shoulder.
Checked his sword.
Then walked toward the window.
He pushed it open quietly.
Cool night air rushed into the room.
Shamrock stepped onto the windowsill.
Below him, the lights of the Magic City stretched endlessly.
He took a deep breath.
Then grinned.
"Alright."
And jumped.
Shamrock landed on a lower balcony with a soft thud.
He immediately crouched and looked around.
No one.
"Good."
He moved quickly along the outer walkways of the tower, navigating the complex structure like someone who had done this before.
Which he had.
More than once.
Eventually he reached one of the lower courtyards.
Just as he stepped around a corner—
"Ah!"
Shamrock froze.
Two guards stood there.
Both wore the uniform of the Continental Magic Association's security division.
One of them blinked in surprise.
"…Shamrock-sama?"
Shamrock internally groaned.
Not the 'sama' again.
The guard looked at the bag.
"Shamrock-sama, what are you doing out so late?"
Shamrock smiled casually.
"Oh, this?"
He lifted the bag slightly.
"Sense asked me to deliver some supplies to a mage staying outside the city."
The guards exchanged a glance.
"That late at night?"
"It is urgent research stuff."
The second guard nodded knowingly.
"Ah, mage business."
"Exactly."
The first guard smiled.
"Well then, Shamrock-sama, please stay safe."
Shamrock sighed.
"How many times do I have to tell you guys…"
He pointed at himself.
"…stop calling me -sama."
The guards shook their heads immediately.
"We can't."
"Why not?"
"Orders."
"From who?!"
They both answered at the same time.
"Serie-sama."
Shamrock stared at them in disbelief.
"…That old elf."
The guards pretended not to hear that.
"Good luck, Shamrock-sama."
He sighed.
"Yeah yeah."
Shamrock waved lazily and continued toward the city gates.
A few minutes later…
He stepped beyond them.
For the first time that night, Shamrock stood outside the Magic City.
Open road stretched ahead.
The distant horizon glowed faintly under the moonlight.
His grin slowly returned.
He adjusted the strap of his bag.
His hand rested confidently on the hilt of his sword.
"Alright, Aura…"
He began walking.
"…let's see who's stronger."
---
High above the city…
At the very top of the central tower…
Someone was watching.
Serie stood quietly at the balcony.
Her grey hair moved gently in the night wind as her eyes followed the small figure running along the distant road.
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
"Do you really think," she murmured softly,
"…that you can lie to me, Shamrock?"
She had known.
Of course she had known.
She had watched him pack.
Watched him leave.
Watched him sneak through the city.
Her gaze followed him until he disappeared beyond the outer road.
"At least…"
Her voice softened slightly.
"…you're not heading for the Northern Lands."
The wind brushed gently against her cloak.
"The Central Lands should be manageable for you."
For a moment she remained silent.
Then she turned back toward the tower.
---
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