Chapter: 296
A bizarre situation where the Duke, having reached the pinnacle of magic, began to sprint toward the pinnacle of baking. I worried that I might have led a perfectly fine person, a great magician who made his mark on the continent’s history, down this strange path.
“Isn’t it okay? You’ve lived all your life without hobbies, and now, even if late, you’ve found something you want to do,” said Marghetta.
Her words seemed very plausible. Normally, the Duke’s private matters are sensitive issues that even the Information Department can’t meddle with. But since Dukes are social beings, involved in aristocratic society, it’s only natural that some of their hobbies and preferences get circulated among people.
However, despite having ruled as a Duke for over a century, there’s very little known about Marcilio. In his youth, he lay low due to being half-elf, and after becoming a Duke, he devoted his life to magic, leaving little room for personal relationships. And the few relationships he did have often ended abruptly due to the fleeting nature of life.
“You must have been so bored! With close aides passing away and fellow magicians from the same era leaving, you probably concentrated solely on magic,” Marghetta’s voice dripped with sympathy.
Her words struck a chord in my heart.
It’s true. The Duke had an extremely limited circle of relationships, hemmed in by the inability of his kind to form attachments. As a result, he threw himself into the Magic Tower, dedicating his life only to magic. That choice earned him the name ‘Duke of Magic,’ but he’s gone through life without any meaningful hobbies. He lived a life devoid of fun, despite all the honors.
“I didn’t think of that.”
I felt a flash of shame for my past jokes about him being a pastry chef or a skilled baker. Shouldn’t I be congratulating the future wife who’s discovered a new hobby? Instead, rather than a celebration, I initially viewed it as something peculiar.
Despite calling him by his name and using informal speech, I thought I had shed my biases against Marcilio. But perhaps, it turns out I was just as biased myself. After all, who could expect a nobleman of such high stature and grace to take an interest in pastry-making?
“Ha-ha, don’t think too much about it. You wouldn’t want to see Karl feeling remorse, would you?”
In a brief silence, Marghetta offered comforting words. I almost laughed at the sight of her awkwardly trying to act like an older sister, but I held it back. If I laughed, it seemed like I would undo the progress made and revert to calling him simply ‘Duke.’
“Is that so?”
“Yes. So, cheer him on from the sidelines, and eat what he makes. Saying it’s delicious will make it even better.”
“That’s only natural.”
No one would dare say bad things about food crafted with earnest effort. Honestly, my palate is rather inexpensive, so unless someone deliberately uses bizarre ingredients, I’ll enjoy it—
‘…Bizarre ingredients?’
Speaking of which, the one teaching the Duke pastry-making is Louise. If anyone’s known for using bizarre ingredients, it would be her. In her love-smitten phase 77 seasons ago, even the club members had some miraculous ingredients they couldn’t even touch. And I was at a stage where my taste buds had gone haywire enough to handle those results.
No, of course, considering the club members have learned true pastry-making, the Duke would surely learn normally too, but there’s always the possibility of him going wild with special techniques while being taught by his magical master.
‘It’ll be fine, I guess.’
Yeah, it’ll be fine. If it tastes strange, I’ll just hold my breath and chew it. Starting a new hobby requires encouragement and support, not criticism and correction.
– Knock, knock.
“Marghetta, can I come in?”
While I gathered my thoughts, Amelia’s voice cut in.
“Yeah, come in.”
Once given the green light, the door opened cautiously. In one hand, she held a plate piled high with cookies, seemingly prepared hastily just as I arrived.
To be honest, we often munch on snacks in the clubroom anyway, but it would be rude to decline treats from a guest. Also, given that Amelia is the kind of person whose commoner mentality can explode with just a little poke, I must be extra careful in handling her.
“Hello, Executive Manager.”
“Hey. It’s been a while.”
At least this time was better than last year. Back then, she trembled in front of me like a Duke receiving a royal decree.
“Is it true you’re the Treasurer now? Congratulations! To join the student council in your second year—quite the achievement.”
“Thank you! It’s all thanks to you, Executive Manager.”
Amelia bent down in a deep bow at my customary compliment.
The compliment was genuine though. Typically, a member in charge is someone who started working in the student council from the first year, but Amelia joined in her second year and confidently landed one of the executive positions. It’s a classic case of a newcomer booting out the veteran. It must be her talent that allowed her to rise above the others who entered the academy as commoners.
Moreover, the absence of any negative gossip indicates she has proven herself right.
“You’ll perform well no matter where you’re recommended.”
“Yes! I can do my best!”
The moment I hinted about her recommendation, she perked up considerably with a vibrant response.
In fact, part of why Amelia has calmed down compared to last year is because she witnessed the other student council executives walking on a path paved with my recommendations. Her eyes sparkled with hope and ambition, knowing that as a commoner, she wanted to reach for the stars. To her, I’m probably akin to a walking treasure goblin.
And for me, well, Amelia is basically a duck carrying a hoe, begging to be taken into a government position. Naturally, if she pleads this much, it’s only right to oblige.
‘Sisters sure are amazing talents.’
Not only that, but Olivia is also the Senior Manager of the student body. Next year, she’ll probably evolve into the head of the body, and I’ll be writing her a recommendation for the military division.
My heart is already racing at the thought. The academy truly is a gold mine.
*
The debate club. A makeshift detention center for students hoping to join the pastry club.
Though it was framed as a place for those who couldn’t bake to come practice, any student with a hint of awareness would recognize this place as a detention center. After all, since the royal Tannian is leading the charge, everyone kept quiet and merely followed the handful of actual members from the pastry club due to their skills.
Fortunately, for me, I didn’t join to be trained by the Duke of Magic; I enrolled to serve Lather, which made the disappointment less severe.
“The Duke of Magic will visit the debate club. It may not happen every day, but it seems he’ll be going once a week.”
Besides, thanks to Lord Lather’s important information, there was no need for disappointment.
In fact, when I missed out on joining the pastry club, I had felt slightly let down. I had come all this way to attend academy just for him, not knowing each other that well, just past acquaintances from childhood. I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of annoyance being lumped in with other students.
However, it was clear the Duke held a special regard for me. If he didn’t, there’s no way he would have shared direct information about Marcilio with me.
“Is this the debate club?”
Thanks to that, when the Duke made his appearance at the debate club for the first time, I managed to maintain some dignity amidst the keenness of all the members. Keeping my composure during that moment unexpectedly led to him noticing me.
“A magician must always be rational and dignified, no matter where they are. You seem prepared.”
Hearing those words felt like I had conquered the world. Hearing praise from the Duke of Magic himself—what an unparalleled compliment.
“What’s your name?”
“Rachel Sorta, from the United Kingdom of Yuben.”
“Oh, you are the one the Prince Lather mentioned, aren’t you?”
When I found out that Lord Lather had even mentioned my name to the Duke, I felt like I was going to tear up. Indeed, he must have cared for me.
In any case, after that day, the Duke began showing up once a week at the debate club. Even though I could only receive teachings for half the time of the club sessions, members expressed immense gratitude and bowed deeply. Outside the academy, magicians would envy even receiving a minute of instruction.
“You must be getting bored with just lectures. Go ahead and eat.”
And just like that, on the last day of the week, the Duke arrived at the club to place a basket full of cookies upon the desk.
These cookies were specially made for easy consumption. While it’s a treat of honor from a magician’s perspective, shouldn’t we perhaps use the time to learn an additional sentence or two instead—
“I made these. I’m not sure if they suit your taste.”
If he made them, then we must eat them.
The suddenly transformed attitude of the members had them rushing toward the desk in a frenzy to grab as many cookies as they could. Amidst the chaos, those who took only one were the last remaining stragglers holding onto their sanity.
‘So the Duke bakes too.’
Surprisingly so. It’s hard to imagine a person who wouldn’t even glance at anything that isn’t related to magic would take interest in baking and do it themselves.
In fact, there had been some subtle complaints from the members since the founding of the debate club until now. The debate is not disliked by these intellectual symbols in magic, but do they really need to learn baking? However, seeing the Duke take an interest in baking himself will put an end to any complaints from now on.
‘Hmm?’
While I nibbled gratefully on the cookies, a sense of unease washed over me.
‘…Has the mana circulation sped up?’
This wasn’t just a feeling. The speed of mana circulation within me increased. It felt as if some blockage had been removed, allowing the mana to flow more smoothly.
What brought this sudden change? It was definitely the same as before just a moment ago.
‘Oh.’
When I swallowed the cookie in my mouth, I figured out the cause.
It had to be from this cookie. It was the only differing factor in this situation, and as soon as I swallowed it, the effects appeared.
Looking around quickly, I noticed everyone was either rapidly devouring cookies or staring at the Duke in awe. Who would have thought such a simple treat could interfere with one’s mana? That’s a concept beyond our imagination.
‘Is this what it means to be in the pastry club?’
In that moment, I even had the thought. Looking at the Duke of Magic with a faint smile on his face, feeling the mana circulating vigorously in my body, made normal reasoning go out the window.
*
I’m relieved to see everyone enjoying them. That must mean there’s no issue with the flavor.
‘Oh, I could give some to the baby.’
A soft smile formed on my face. Finally, I could give my made cookies to the baby! How could I not be thrilled?
Although I still lack enough experience to tackle breads, macarons, or cakes, I mustn’t get too greedy and falter my beginners’ foundation. For now, I’ll be satisfied with cookies.
‘Will they like it?’
Imagining the baby happily munching on the cookies, patting my head and praising me, made my ears perk up with joy.
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