# Ivan Petrovich
Though Ivan doesn't discriminate based on profession, gender, age, or race when forming friendships, he's not friendly with mages. There's a very reasonable and valid explanation for this.
Most mages are born with character defects.
"What... what are you saying?"
"It's the truth."
Ivan calmly explained the facts with a sideways glance to Oswald, who was looking at him with discomfort.
"Mages basically spend their time locked away in rooms, manipulating magical energy or reading books."
"That's... right?"
"Now think about other professions."
For warriors to become stronger, they need a combination of real combat and training.
A warrior who only strikes dummies in the training ground cannot become stronger. Naturally, they need opponents.
Finding skilled sparring partners and sharing sweat and camaraderie naturally improves sociability. Warriors who can't do this end up with their heads cracked.
Thieves need to identify their target's base, hideout, warehouse, or vault. Since this requires inside information, thieves naturally need to build relationships with their targets or "persuade" the target's acquaintances.
Thievery is a profession only highly sociable people can do. In fact, Enrique has many friends despite being a vampire.
Bards don't even need to be mentioned. Musical art is a genre that cannot be attempted unless one is naturally sociable. This can be proven by super-socialite Mozart and Salieri who hated such socialites. (Salieri was also an incredible socialite.)
And there's one more decisive piece of evidence.
"Almost all elves are mages."
"Yes."
"And almost all elves suffer from innate personality disorders."
"...What?"
Having successfully convinced Oswald with perfect syllogism (All elves are lunatics. All elves are mages. Therefore, mages are lunatics), Ivan looked at him with warm eyes and nodded.
Once again, Ivan does not discriminate against people based on race or gender. He is a 21st century modern person.
So, this isn't racial discrimination, just a calm statement of facts.
Sadly, all non-human races in this uncivilized world fundamentally suffer from innate personality disorders.
Dwarves who invented averagism and hate everyone taller than themselves, demons who viewed humans as somewhat creative ingredients, ...and elves.
When something strange appears in history, pointing to elves as the culprits is usually correct.
That's all.
Any further explanation wouldn't be cool. Ivan looked at Oswald.
Oswald, who had been staring at Ivan with blank eyes, smiled sadly.
He seemed to have realized that he himself was both a mage and an elf.
"Why are you telling me this...?"
Oswald looked around uncomfortably.
Many students were passing by, glancing at them. This was the magic department.
About half the students in the magic department were elves. In other words, this place had the densest elf-mage distribution in Pritzenkaya.
To say such things in the middle of such a place.
My school life is ruined. Oswald smiled humbly.
If this were Earth, he might have enlisted in the military for a clean slate, but in this unfortunate world, while enlistment is voluntary, discharge is not... Oswald had no choice.
"I need a mage."
"Ah. So the reason you're discussing the personality deficiencies of mages and elves in front of the first-year undergraduate lecture hall of the magic department is that you want to hire a mage!"
Ivan looked at Oswald with fresh eyes.
Good summary. I didn't need to explain it like that from the beginning.
"...I'm really thankful that Ivan didn't transmigrate into a king or high noble."
Any country ruled by this man would become an empire of evil armed with efficiency and rationalism. Perhaps a Lucky Nazi or Lucky Soviet.
Oswald sighed deeply and said:
"And if you needed a mage, you could have just told me privately. I know magic too."
"Magic Interpretation C, Classical Spell Analysis C-."
"Ah, no! How did you know my grades...?"
"You're useless."
"Wow."
Mind sorcery is war magic. While extremely useful in espionage activities, most of its applications are specialized for war.
Destruction spells have minimal effect compared to their flashy appearance. Throwing a fireball on the front line will only take down three or four people at most.
That level of firepower can be replaced with firearms. If an advanced class of soldiers raised with mana operation only has that level of efficiency, it's just a waste of resources.
On the other hand, mind sorcery can elevate the spirits of an entire allied squad with the same amount of mana. It can eliminate fear, boost courage, and instill terrible hatred for the enemy.
Generally, the turning point of war depends on the morale of soldiers. Front lines with mind sorcery-trained mages could perform combat for overwhelmingly longer periods compared to those without.
In those days, the purpose of the front line was to "endure," which was an extremely powerful effect. This was because the only goal for victory in war was to hold out until the Hero Party could behead the enemy leadership.
Anyway.
Mind sorcery is war magic. And what Ivan needed was a traditional mage skilled in "ancient magic interpretation" and "protective spells."
"So you're looking for a mage who isn't an elf, has learned protective spells, is proficient in ancient magic interpretation, and can maintain confidentiality?"
"Yes."
"I think you'd have better luck finding a dragon or unicorn."
"Is it that difficult?"
"It's not difficult, it's impossible! If you could compromise on the elf and confidentiality parts, it might be doable..."
Oswald looked around with complicated eyes and then lowered his voice to whisper:
"You said you're friends with the Hero Party, right?"
"Hmm."
"Then there's someone. A mage who topped all theoretical subjects including ancient magic interpretation and got A+ in non-major magic like protective spells. She's an elf, but since she's the daughter of your friend, confidentiality should be possible."
Among the children of the Hero Party, there's only one mage.
"...Elfihera."
"Yes, Elfihera Grikenkos. She's also kind and modest."
A genius who inherited her father's magical talent. The highest scorer in the history of St. Yansk University entrance exams...
"Hmm..."
He knew her as well.
Twelve years ago, just before the Hero Party set out.
He had seen her for exactly four days.
That little girl was extremely elf-like.
"Ugh, what's this smell? Human, have you forgotten how to wash? Where is your master? I'll personally teach that fellow how to bathe pets."
"...???"
Ivan turned his head as he heard a tiny doll-like child chattering.
He saw a small child who barely reached his chest. Pointed ears poked out sharply between gloriously shining golden hair.
Ah, an elf. I heard there was one in the Hero Party. Indeed.
But... I heard Beolgrin Grikenkos was an elf over 400 years old. Can he look this young?
Long-lived races are amazing.
Ivan quickly organized his thoughts and nodded.
"Are you Lord Grikenkos?"
"Huh? Yes, that's right! I am Grikenkos! You recognize me, what an intelligent human despite your appearance!"
The child exclaimed, proudly puffing out her chest. The magical power emanating from her was unremarkable, is this what a master of anti-aging arts looks like?
Ivan was amazed.
The oldest person he knew was Enrique. Even she couldn't take on such a youthful appearance.
Though such concepts didn't exist in this world, Ivan, who had written a 5,700-character complaint letter to martial arts novels with equal fervor, knew terms like "anti-aging arts," "body transformation," and "reversing aging."
Finding himself face to face with a character straight out of such novels, Ivan couldn't help but feel wonder.
"So human, where is your master? I am very hungry. It seems humans don't know how to treat distinguished guests, so I must find your elf master."
"What do you... Didn't they serve you at the army mess hall? I can talk to the mess officer..."
"No, not that fodder. I need 'food,' not feed."
"...Oh."
Ivan's image of elves began to twist slightly in his mind.
"Lord Grikenkos. I'm sorry, but this is the front line. The portions allocated to your party were luxuries that the soldiers couldn't even dream of."
"Human language is mysterious. The word 'luxury' means 'made by elves.' Which of the feed troughs I received today contained elf-made meals?"
The elves in his mind were no longer mysterious long-lived fairies.
He thought that if someone was a great mage who had lived for 400 years, he could understand if their personality was a bit off, and he struggled to maintain his expression.
Surely not all elves are such lunatics.
Ivan's naive thoughts were shattered by the next man who appeared.
"Elfihera. What kind of language is that?"
"Father!!"
When a tall, handsome young man walking from over there smiled and opened his arms, the little girl who had been chattering at him ran over and fell into his embrace.
The young man smiled warmly and ruffled the child's hair.
"Fodder? That was the finest banquet humans could provide. Humans pitifully call such things 'banquets' and enjoy them, so calling it fodder is a great discourtesy."
"Father, but it wasn't edible!"
"Elfihera. Humans become greatly distressed when their tributes are rejected. Haven't I repeatedly told you how important it is to care for lower species?"
"Yes, Father..."
It was undoubtedly the most surprising parenting scene Ivan had ever witnessed.
Ivan could only gape at the two elves, father and daughter.
"Ah, human. My daughter was rude. I apologize."
He extended his hand with a friendly smile. Is he offering a handshake? The hand position seems a bit strange for that. He's holding his hand palm down, almost like...
"I am Beolgrin Grikenkos, Acting Head of the Privy Council of the Kalion Archipelago. According to human custom, one kisses the back of a noble's hand when meeting them, right? Hehe, a primitive but cute tradition. I gladly permit it."
These people should be extinct for the sake of human... no, world peace and future.
Ivan glared coldly at Beolgrin, seriously considering submitting this proposal to the Great King.
That was twelve years ago.
It was during Ivan's 18th year of transmigration, 8th year of military service, when he had just been assigned to the Royal Guard.
His first impression of elves was the worst. Given that it never improved afterward, elves must simply be that kind of race.
Awakening from his reverie, Ivan looked at the elf before him.
The female elf, who modestly placed her hand on her chest and gently bowed her head, was literally picture-perfect.
After hearing Oswald's explanation, she smiled shyly and spoke:
"Pleased to meet you. I am Elfihera Grikenkos."
"...?"
Ivan was confused.