Ghost Island. (1)
Senior Professor's office.
Sunlight streamed warmly through the glass window, but Deculein's demeanor remained as cold as ever.
There was nothing to fear. He was the same as always.
"...Um."
Step by step.
Ifrin approached Deculein slowly. She hesitated, fumbling for words as she opened her mouth.
"That is..."
She'd barely uttered a cautious word when—
"Hey."
"Get out."
"Huh?"
Bam—!
In the blink of an eye, she was ejected, and the door slammed shut.
It was the work of Telekinesis.
"...What the hell."
Ifrin stared blankly at the firmly locked door. She rattled the handle, but it wouldn't budge.
"What... Open up! Open the door! I have something to—"
"Ah, Ifrin. You're here?"
Then Allen approached from behind. He flashed her a bright smile.
"Ah, I... yeah, I came, but..."
Ifrin fidgeted awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck. Her back suddenly felt hot. She was embarrassed, ashamed.
"That..."
"It's fine~"
Allen shook his head as if he knew everything. He spoke in his usual cheerful voice.
"It happens. Professor Deculein probably thinks it's only natural. I'd do the same."
"..."
"Speaking out about family matters took courage on your part. Just repay it with your research~ None of us mind at all."
Fighting! Allen pumped his fist energetically before hopping off to his lab.
[Assistant Professor Allen's Lab]
Thanks to the new extension Deculein had built him, his steps bounced like a rabbit's.
"..."
As Ifrin watched his retreating figure, a voice suddenly echoed in her mind.
The conversation between Deculein and Ihelm.
—This research is not yet complete. Its completion is Ifrin's role.
What Deculein had left for her.
And what she must do for her father.
Complete the research.
"...Right."
Ifrin nodded and dashed to her own lab.
[Assistant Lab]
She flung the door open with a bang, ignoring the startled Drent, and plopped down amid the stacks of papers.
"I can do this. I can do this..."
Ifrin wasted not a single moment. Her motivation burned fiercer than ever. Her purpose was clearer than at any point in her life.
And so, she dove straight into her studies.
* * *
...After the five-day, four-night hearing concluded.
"You both did great!"
This was the 100th-floor office of Adrienne.
Called here alongside Ihelm, I faced her.
"I praised you guys so much, the paper review should wrap up in a month! But until then! You both have a test!"
Chairwoman Adrienne had sent my paper to the Floating Island.
Probably every addict there had dropped all duties to obsess over it.
"This time, it's to gauge your practical skills!"
"Can't the candidates withdraw?"
Ihelm brushed back his hair and asked. Adrienne replied energetically.
"Of course not! There's still a chance for a comeback!"
"...I don't even want a comeback."
"Done talking! Look at this!"
She pulled out a map and crystal orb. Records related to an island called Goreth.
At that moment, a quest alert triggered.
Altar and Ghosts
◆ Mental Strength +1
Quests were now almost all tagged 'Main' or 'Independent.'
No room anymore for mere 'Sides.'
"Destination: Goreth Island! Also called Ghost Island, and it has a castle inside called Ghost Castle!"
The chairwoman's crystal orb projected footage. The island's stereoscopic landscape looked ordinary enough.
A dock for ships, a massive castle beyond it, overgrown weeds and grass.
Anyone could see it had been abandoned for ages.
"You both probably learned about it in academy textbooks!"
"Yes. I know."
Ihelm clicked his tongue in response.
"Goreth. Sixty years ago, a magical space where 3,000 islanders vanished in an instant."
"Right! It used to produce specialties and draw tourists, but after the incident, it became a dead island. And get this! A mana stone mine was discovered there!"
"...Mana stones?"
"Yup~!"
Mana stone mine. A resource coveted by mages and anyone in this world.
There's even a saying: 'Even hell you'd dig for top-grade mana stones.' Their value goes without saying.
"The buried stones total a whopping 10,000 tons! In elne terms... Oh my!"
The chairwoman flapped dramatically. Ihelm crossed his arms with a sour face.
"So a purification op is being prepped! Your test is that! Who contributes more to the op—"
"So, volunteer work, you mean."
"No! Of course not!"
She shook her head immediately at Ihelm's question.
"We'll judge performance and distribute rewards by contribution. Say Ihelm contributes 3%—that's 0.3% of 10,000 tons! Minus half for the imperial share, you get 15 tons of mine equity!"
15 tons. Depending on quality, equivalent to a mid-to-small territory's annual budget.
Adrienne continued.
"Ihelm's an auxiliary magic master, and Deculein of Yukline for any demons or ghosts that might appear! Perfect combo!"
Then Ihelm glanced at me. His eyes asked if I'd join the test.
With the quest up, I had no reason to refuse.
"Yes. I will."
"...Fine. Then me too. Chairwoman's gone, but mine equity tempts."
Ihelm shrugged.
* * *
Freiheim Knights' captain's office. A wooden room utterly spartan—no decorations or luxuries, boring to the point of tedium.
"Hmm..."
Captain Julie was reviewing the knights' ledger. Lately, all black ink.
"...Heh."
She smiled involuntarily. Her health worsened, but these profits made for a healthy order.
Knock knock—
A knock. She stowed the ledger, composed herself, and bade entry.
"...Captain."
Vice-captain RockfellVeron. Armored, black cloak draped. At his grim sight, Julie stood.
"What is it, Rockfell."
"We recovered Veron's remains."
"What?"
Julie's eyes widened. She rushed to him, demanding.
"Veron's remains?!"
The Freiheim Knights had tried too, but failed despite astronomical costs.
That cliff was that hopeless.
"Yes. With Lady Yuseffin's help."
"Ah... I see."
Julie nodded, stepping back with a sigh of relief. For once, she was truly, deeply grateful to her sister.
"...He's back. That guy."
A small weight lifted from her heart.
She looked at Rockfell. His eyes glistened with tears.
"Captain. What now?"
"We'll hold the funeral again."
"Yes. I'll inform the knights."
Rockfell bowed and left.
"...Haa."
Julie exhaled deeply, gazing out the knights' window.
The sky was clear. Sunlight brilliant, not a cloud.
"Really... glad."
She smiled through tears.
* * *
Meanwhile, Soda-rank Ifrin sipped coffee at a café.
"..."
But she felt nauseous. Everyone inside kept glancing her way.
"Ugh, stomach hurts."
These days, stares followed her everywhere on campus. For boldly speaking out as Deculein's assistant.
Some cheered, some worried, nobles cursed—but none sided with Deculein.
That part stung a bit...
"Hmm~ A celebrity's here?"
Someone sat beside her. Ifrin's eyes went wide.
"...Professor Ruina?"
Ruina swept her green hair back and smiled brightly.
"Yes. Nice to meet you. Still look confused?"
"Ah... yes. Hello."
Ifrin gave a wry smile and bowed. Ruina sipped her coffee.
"So? Professor Deculein changed a lot, huh?"
"Ah, well, I don't know the old him well..."
Only from letters, never experienced. Ifrin decided to trust only what she saw now.
Ruina sighed softly.
"Sigh, yeah. He's changed a ton. Back then, he was awfully, unspeakably awful... And people change for reasons."
Her tone turned bitter. Ifrin blinked at her.
"Something happen? With the professor?"
"Hmm... Who knows. Can't say, right? Maybe terminal illness?"
"...Pardon?"
In that instant.
From the depths of Ifrin's hazy memory.
A faint voice bubbled up from her subconscious.
—But... there's no professor in my world.
A mirage-like tone, lingering briefly in her ear before fading. Ifrin pondered blankly.
Who said that? Where?
How did I hear it?
"Soda Ifrin? What's wrong?"
Ruina asked. Ifrin startled, shaking her head.
"Ah, nothing."
"Something ring a bell?"
"Ah... no, not really."
She didn't know why he changed. Couldn't. She knew nothing of his past.
Just...
"Headache. Probably this."
Ifrin pulled a paper from her pocket. Ruina glanced and gasped.
"Ah~ Goreth Island. Ghost Castle? Professor Deculein's heading there?"
"Yes."
"Assistants required? It's dangerous—no need for everyone."
"Not required, but..."
Ifrin scratched her cheek.
"I'm his assistant, so I plan to go. Can research there too. Unless he doesn't want—"
* * *
"...Ugh!"
She awoke inside the ship. Heading to Goreth Island's Ghost Castle.
Ifrin peered out the window. Sun blazed, sea calm. The cruise-like interior peaceful.
Yaaawn— She stretched languidly.
"Ifrin, awake?"
Allen beside her smiled. She wiped yawn-tears.
"Yeah. First ship ride—fell asleep suddenly. Seasick?"
"Ah~ First time? Makes sense. But classes okay to skip?"
(Drent sat this out—lectures and assignments.)
"Yeah, anyway... They're easy for me."
"As expected~"
He admired, gazing out.
"Our spot's ghost central! Tons to research~"
"Yeah. Kinda excited. Ghosts are magical, right?"
"..."
Allen didn't reply. Instead, he turned abruptly. Neck snapping unnaturally.
"Ah, Assistant Professor Allen. Your neck..."
His body faced the window, head twisted sideways, staring at her.
"Ifrin."
"Yes?"
"Do I still look like Allen to you?"
"What do you..."
Then blood poured from Allen's eyes.
Gush gush gush— Red like faucet water, splattering her.
Shocked stiff, Ifrin froze.
Meanwhile, Allen's mouth gaped shark-wide.
Grrrrraaahhh...!
She tried casting, but her body wouldn't move. No strength. Like punching in a dream...
Dream?
"...Dream! It's a dream!"
Ifrin forced her eyes open. Trembling, but the horror vanished.
Allen gazed innocently at the sea.
"Whew..."
She sighed. Weak mind and body lately? Or low mental strength?
"... Ifrin? Something wrong?"
Allen asked worriedly. She smiled bitterly, shaking head.
"Ah, just a dream..."
"What dream?"
"Nothing. Don't worry."
"This kind?"
"...Yes?"
Grip—
Allen seized her hand, face inches away. Blood-tears exploded—kwakwakwa!
Exact same scene.
Allen spat blood.
"This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream? This dream?"
"Aaaahhh!"
Screaming, thrashing, then—
"Ugh!"
Awake again. She scanned frantically.
Still ship, but night now.
Allen appeared.
"Ifrin! What happened? You okay?"
"Again, again! Stay back!"
"...Pardon?"
She blocked approaching Allen. He froze, hurt. A voice drifted.
"This is not a dream."
"...?"
Ifrin looked.
Senior Professor Deculein, reading a book.
"Ifrin. Heard of the Siren legend?"
"Ah, yes."
"Sea magic draws people in. Via dreams and illusions. Ghosts have more substance. Our island amplifies it. Closer we get, worse it gets."
"..."
"You were caught and released by a ghost."
Ifrin swallowed. Checked her wrist—clear handprint.
"Holy... this..."
"No need to worry. I am proof of reality."
"...Pardon?"
She stared at Deculein. Eyes still on book.
"They can't mimic me. No me in your world? It's a dream. Where I exist is real."
"Oho~ Impressive, Professor Deculein!"
Ihelm clapped from a nearby sofa, wine in hand. Deculein ignored.
"Y-yes. Got it."
Embarrassed, Ifrin looked out.
Dark sea, storm raging, waves battering.
Krarung—!
Lightning screamed. Skull flashed within. She jumped—not just thunder.
A memory surged.
—But... there's no professor in my world.
Faint subconscious whisper.
—So don't hate him too much.
Her future self to present.
Ifrin whipped to Deculein.
—And if possible... ask him to stay in your world long.
Not far off, Deculein dies.