Clark was the kingdom's most beloved hero. Impervious to most damage, powerful, kind, and loyal, he'd been serving for years, with multiple accolades for his bravery and valor. His gentle disposition and willingness to help had earned him the admiration of all.

Well, almost all. There was one exception.

Everywhere Clark went, his rival followed. They'd both been Academy students; he'd been unable to use magic but needed to learn to counter it—his only weakness—and his rival had been valedictorian. Clark had been relentlessly mocked for his lack of talent. Then, after graduation, they'd both risen through the ranks and eventually become generals: Clark with the Knight Corps and his rival, the Magic Corps. They'd had to work together often, and every single time his rival would drop hints about what a shame it was that he couldn't use magic. Then in their forties they'd both retired from the army and gone into teaching at the same Academy where they'd once studied; he taught Magic Theory, which earned him further ridicule from his rival for being a "talentless brute" who had to teach theory because he couldn't teach real magic.

"Enough!" he snapped one day, finally reaching his limit. "I'm trying to be civil, but you're impossible! Yes, I'm a talentless brute! You've only said that about five thousand times in the past three decades! Do you have nothing better to do?!"