University (2)
“Turn around.”
At that single command, Sylvia turned. Deculein stood there with his hands clasped behind his back, glaring at her.
“Debutante Sylvia.”
“Yes.”
“As I recall, this is the executive reading room. Documents bordering on classified are kept here, with entry strictly forbidden to all but the faculty—and severe punishment for any who enter.”
“Ah, I see. I didn’t know. I simply got lost.”
Deculein nodded at Sylvia’s excuse.
“No one noticed you had taken a wrong turn. That falls on you and the librarians of this reading room. All of them—”
“I lied to get out of trouble. I invoked an exception clause.”
“There is no exception clause.”
“I’m sorry. There was a book I wanted.”
Sylvia confessed honestly.
Then, the book in her hand floated up lightly.
“Wha—”
She reached for it but missed her step.
“Oof.”
She lost her balance and fell on her rear. The floor was cold against her skin.
Her insides boiled with rage, but she stood without a word, brushed herself off, and looked at Deculein.
“······.”
Deculein was peering into the book. Sylvia snorted inwardly.
Ridiculous.
It’s an Etinel novel. A man whose only hobby is socializing wouldn’t understand this alien world even if he read it.
Stop wasting time and just give me back my book.
“Last night, I was with him.”
“?”
But then… something bizarre happened.
“Red flowers bloomed along every path leading to him.”
Professor Deculein suddenly recited strange lines.
As if reading from the book itself. In a softness utterly unlike his lecturing tone.
“I tried not to think about where my feelings came from.”
Sylvia couldn’t comprehend his steady, flowing voice.
“As long as I wanted to be with him, that was enough.”
He was reading it.
Or was he really?
Or just making it up as he went?
“I removed her clothes…”
The professor stopped there and closed the book.
“To think a child like you… enjoys romance novels. How unexpected.”
“?”
Sylvia’s eyes shaped question marks. She mumbled wordlessly, then shook her head.
“It’s not a romance novel—”
“Enough. Take it. I’ll forgive you this once.”
“It’s not a romance—”
The book floated up again and settled into Sylvia’s arms.
“But if you enter this reading room on your own again, you will face discipline.”
“I don’t like it for—”
“Did you come to flaunt your family’s prestige? In the future, simply send one of your loyal retainers to borrow it for you.”
He wasn’t even listening.
Sylvia’s lips parted in stunned humiliation—the first she’d ever felt. A flush of anger rose to her usually impassive pale cheeks.
I wasn’t reading a romance novel. I just wanted to learn fairy customs from an Etinel story.
“Besides, learning such things from books won’t help at all. It’s not realistic.”
That was the fatal blow. Sylvia blanked out for a moment. A dizzy shock pulsed at the back of her skull.
“······.”
Dazed, Sylvia closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them with effort.
“······.”
He was already gone.
“······.”
Sylvia looked at the book still in her hands. At least it hadn’t been taken.
“Insolent.”
Reciting such nonsense on his own whim.
It was clearly deliberate sabotage. Deculein was deeply wary of the Illaydes…
Sylvia left the executive reading room.
She returned straight to her mansion and opened the book.
“Milady, you’re home early?”
“Yeah. No need for dinner.”
To verify Deculein’s interpretation. And to study Etinel after so long. She set an Etinel dictionary beside her.
“······.”
The more she read, the more shocked Sylvia was at how eerily accurate Deculein’s translation had been.
He even knew words she didn’t.
Just inferred from context? But the phrasing was too natural, too elegant.
“!”
But such doubts soon vanished from her mind.
She realized it wasn’t a romance novel.
I stripped her clothes and overlaid his body… Her ■■ and my ■■ and his ■■ formed a ■■■■■■…
“How is this—”
…After returning that bizarre novel to Sylvia.
I headed to the mountains with the faculty. A literal mountain.
“Haha. I never expected fifty applicants for voluntary training.”
Relin, the chubby auxiliary professor, laughed heartily. I replied indifferently.
“Indeed.”
The magic tower grounds hold a special mountain. Darkness Mountain—evoking famous forests from magic academies, but far more brutal and perilous.
It sits isolated from the main campus, surrounded by barriers and wards on all sides, so regular students live their school lives unaware of it.
But for the tower mages who manage it and bear responsibility for its safety, it’s a gravely important place.
Without it, we’d have to travel far for real combat experience every time. Plus, the forest yields profitable magic ingredients—earthworms, bushwort, man-eating vines, Gratenridge oil, and more.
“Quite impressive, aren’t they?”
Today, the tower’s faculty—including me—brought fifty debutante mages to Darkness Mountain for training. It was called “darkness,” but daytime made it bright.
“All elites, so unflinchingly bold. A testament to the Imperial University’s caliber.”
Relin watched the freshmen conduct magic research amid the noon mountain air and dispatch occasional mana beasts, sighing in admiration.
“And they don’t fear Darkness Mountain…”
Summer was still distant.
Yet Relin sweated profusely for some reason.
“Oh, right. We haven’t decided this week’s on-duty professor. The rotation’s cycled back, so we need a new pick. In cases like this, the chief professor’s input…”
Probably about this duty.
The tower has about fifty full professors. Including associates and assistants, far more—but on-duty for Darkness Mountain rotates among full professors, per tower rules.
From Relin’s reaction, the first slot was clearly dangerous.
“I’ll do it.”
I volunteered.
“Oh! Ah, well. Of course, Chief Professor Deculein. A model of leading by example…”
This wasn’t leading by example. It was a quest.
◆ Shop Currency +1
◆ Additional Achievement Reward
Something lurked inside.
It drew me in… like a siren’s call.
Hence the side quest trigger.
“Then, Chief Professor Deculein, from today until Sunday, please. I’ll take next week…”
Relin beamed, his belly jiggling.
“Understood.”
Setting aside faculty skill, the faint-hearted couldn’t endure a night here.
In fact, Darkness Mountain at night shifted genres entirely. From adventure to a jump-scare horror game crawling with sudden terrors…
…12:05 a.m.
Late night.
April’s chill air seeped through my clothes, but I, Ifrin, felt no cold.
Why, you ask?
The robe’s insulation? Heating magic?
No. Nothing like that.
Then, alcohol coursing through my veins?
A reasonable guess, but no.
Then what—! The reason I’m not cold is my pockets are stuffed!
“Nah, it’s fine, it’s fine. This one’s on me, I bought it~”
Ifrin shouted boldly, devouring ice cream. A pleasant buzz warmed her.
“For real…? You sure you’re not pushing it, Ipi?”
Commoner Perit muttered timidly.
“Psh, what’re you talking about? My wallet’s fat, fat~”
Somehow becoming the commoner group’s leader and even footing the after-party bill, Ifrin sat at an outdoor night stall with Julia and the club members.
Julia grinned slyly.
“Submitted the club founding plan yesterday, so it should go through soon.”
“Oh yeah? Good, good~”
“Yeah. But the commoners are hesitant to join. Probably image issues. So dumb.”
Slurp—Ifrin inhaled her noodle dish in seconds.
“Delicious.”
“Heh. You’re pretty wasted, huh, Ipi?”
“Wasted? Never. What do you take me for?”
She shook her head with feigned sobriety and sternness.
How many shots did I down? Don’t remember, but I’m not drunk…
Kyaaaah—!
“!”
A scream pierced the air. Ifrin and the mages flinched. At first, they thought it a hallucination.
Kyaaaaah—!
“What was that?! You hear it too?”
“Yeah! You too?”
“Let’s go!”
Perit and Ron, Julia and Ifrin.
The elites’ sense of justice—and youthful vigor—propelled the freshmen to their feet and running.
“Where?!”
Save me, please—!
“There! Over there!”
The cries came from the right alley.
Please save me—!
The mages chased the screams down dark paths into a shadowy nook.
Here, here—! Please—!
—But.
As they ran.
Crunch crunch—leaves scattered underfoot.
They’d been on brick pavement. Why leaves like a forest path?
“Guys. Something’s off here…”
Ifrin turned.
“······Right?”
No one. Just desolate trees and grass everywhere.
“Wha…”
The buzz vanished. A chill crawled up her stiff neck.
—Save me!
Another unearthly wail. In that instant, Ifrin’s fear ebbed.
Not justice. An unconscious pull of mana.
“Where are you?!”
Ifrin, ungroomed by academies, had two glaring weaknesses.
Resistance to magic. And mental fortitude as a mage.
Both basics honed from academy days.
“Where?!”
Racing ahead, Ifrin finally spotted her.
“Here, here! Right here! I’m here!”
A ragged-clothed woman reached out. Ifrin moved to support her.
Then.
Bang—!
Something struck Ifrin’s leg.
“—!”
Ifrin tumbled. She tried to rise, but her calf throbbed numbly. No strength. She lifted her head from the dirt.
“Watch out!”
Ifrin yelled urgently at the dazed woman.
Too late.
A flash gleamed from the dark. It pierced the woman’s shoulder.
“Kyaaaaah—!”
“Ah!”
At the agonized scream, Ifrin forced herself up, channeling mana into her bracelet. She aimed to fire at the attack’s source… but froze at the sight.
In the brush’s shadow stood Chief Professor Deculein.
His overwhelming bloodlust terrified her.
“P-Professor! What are you—?!”
“Debutante Ifrin.”
Deculein called her name. Meanwhile, the woman crawled toward them; another projectile from Deculein pierced her ankle.
Kyuuuugh—!
“No, Professor! What—”
“Open your eyes wide and look. That’s no person.”
“What?!”
“You’re drunk. Stay put.”
“But still.”
“Don’t move—!”
Deculein barked.
“······.”
His roar shook the mountainside. Branches quivered; echoes rang hollowly.
Overwhelmed, Ifrin collapsed rigid, staring at him.
His face taut, eyes fierce as a raptor’s. Far more terrifying than usual.
Cold wind clawed her cheek.
Only now did her muddled mind clear.
“······An illusion. The demons’ specialty.”
Deculein said, yanking Ifrin up by the nape.
He just stood; she dangled in midair alone.
“W-Wait. My feet aren’t touching…”
“I embedded metal in your robe.”
“······?”
Ifrin flailed in the air, gazing at Deculein.
Then.
Her heart sank heavily.
His gaze… utterly dismissive, as if scorning her very existence. Pure contempt for the lowly.
Deculein stared at her that way.
“Human bodies are tricky, but metal is simple.”
Incomprehensible words.
Was he even the professor? Or a demonic illusion?
“What do you—”
“I said don’t interfere and get lost, you half-wit pest.”
“······.”
His venomous words stabbed like daggers. Colder, more fearsome than ever.
Utterly unlike his usual self.
…No.
This was the Deculein she’d always expected.
Deculein snapped harshly and yanked Ifrin.
Not just a tug.
“Uwaaaaa—!”
Zzoooooooong—
Ifrin was sucked like vacuumed dust, flung beyond the mountain, and blacked out.
Grrrrr…
The woman morphed into a grotesque creature. Hair and clothes melted; horns sprouted from her temples. Eyes huge but lidless, skin blood-red, gleaming unnaturally.
“Cunning beast.”
A gem-like core in its brow suggested illusion as its main trait—but illusions failed against this flesh.
One of Deculein’s rare strengths: near-perfect immunity to illusion magic.
It should be so.
Yet his emotions boiled strangely. Deculein’s innate “personality” reacted violently.
…Bloodline.
Like “personality” or “traits,” but the Yukline house’s inherent mark.
Yuklines bore “enmity toward demons” in their blood.
Thus, sensing a demon twisted his reason with primal loathing. The fame of ancient Yukline demon-hunters manifested thus.
A fate designed by the game’s author.
No matter the player’s alignment—demonic villain or heroic knight-mage-adventurer—Deculein could never be an ally…
“You belong buried underground.”
Rare fury gripped him. He couldn’t stay calm.
“Krarrarara—!”
The demon roared in response, emitting waves to assail the mind.
Ziiing— the buzz rang in his ears, but nothing more.
Unfazed, he targeted it with five cherished blades hovering in the air.
Excitement surged. Testing blood-honed blades’ performance—and Deculein’s nature boiled fiercely.
Whirr—
Four shurikens split two each, streaking left and right.
The demon ground its teeth, glancing between them.
“Kyaaa!”
It backflipped to dodge their paths, but the fifth stabbed straight for its airborne heart.
Crack—
Its joints twisted grotesquely, deforming to evade.
But my assault was endless. The four that looped behind now charged again.
Five blades in ceaseless barrage.
It seemed to dodge, but couldn’t truly. Time would corner and kill it slowly.
One choice left.
Charge.
It kicked off the ground, hurtling against the blades.
Swift, slipping gaps—but anticipated.
Shraaa—!
Claws extended.
But its tip missed by a hair.
The sixth shuriken—that had expelled Ifrin—returned, piercing its brow.
“…Filthy thing. Spewing filth even in death.”
Blood splattered his face.
Indescribable revulsion surged like nausea. Bewildering scorn, contempt, hatred, bloodlust.
He couldn’t contain it. Couldn’t hide it.
◆ Shop Currency +1
◆ Shop Currency +1
◆ Trait Yukline Awakened
The reward alerts flashed in sequence, but brought no joy.
A demon’s appearance.
It signaled the game’s true start—without a player.
“······”
He simply stood, gazing skyward.
Deep, pitch-black predawn. The ruined ceiling held no stars; the cloud-eaten moon gleamed pale…