Second Semester. (1)
A tremendous vibration shook the ground, as if a meteor had crashed down. The impact had landed squarely on the earth aligned vertically with the Training Island.
It was a landing violent enough to crater the soil, yet the perpetrator merely brushed the dirt from her robes with a few casual pats—tap-tap.
"...This is faster."
Allen had leaped straight from the Training Island to the surface below. In other words, a freefall from 3,000 meters up in the sky, with just enough speed control along the way.
─Explain yourself. Why did you do that?
She hadn't taken more than a few steps before the communication came through. Allen pressed a hand to her ear and replied.
"Nee?"
─I heard about yesterday.
"Aha~ That? It was part of the mission."
─We never assigned you such a mission.
Allen beamed.
These people really don't get it.
"Nee~ That's why I said 'part of it.' As in, part of the mission."
─...
There was a brief silence on the other end. Allen checked if her robe was clean now.
Any dirt at all, and the professor would hate it. Somehow, his perfectionism had rubbed off on her.
─There's no need to develop excessive emotions toward the target.
"...Nee?"
An out-of-left-field remark. Allen tilted her head in confusion, then broke into a small smile.
"Aww, come on. You don't know me? I didn't even consider that possibility until you said it."
─...As you say, three months' extension. Clean it up thoroughly in that time, Eli.
She didn't reply. Eli just smiled brightly and cut the connection.
That was when it happened.
"Hey! There! It's the supervisor—!"
Three kids came panting out of the nearby woods. Name tags on their chests read 'Karos,' 'Leo,' and 'Lia.'
"Supervisor? Are you the supervisor?"
The girl named Lia asked. Eli shook her head.
"Nope~ Not me. But looks like you're in the middle of a test?"
"Ah~ We're taking the adventurer exam... Ack! Run!"
The three whipped around and, startled, grabbed Eli's hand and yanked. Eli glanced that way.
Thud!—Boom!—Thud!—Boom!—!
A massive beast was charging toward them.
Part bear, part deer—bigger than a bear, with antlers that could slice steel. A chilling Bearhorn.
"If you're not the supervisor, evacuate now—"
"It's fine. You go first."
"Huh?"
"Go on."
Eli said with a smile. The three hesitated, then scurried off.
Rooooar!—!
The Bearhorn bellowed and lunged.
"Hi. Bye."
Eli smiled as she slashed her hand diagonally through the air.
That was it. Nothing more.
Shrrrip!—!
The Bearhorn's body bisected along her gesture.
Blood sprayed from the severed cross-section, and Eli stepped forward into the crimson mist.
In that instant.
The scenery flipped.
She had been in the thicket—yet her next step landed in the heart of a village marketplace.
"Two fish cakes for 1 elne! 1 elne!"
"Herbs galore~ Come see~"
"Magic ingredients here! Buy 'em cheap and resell on the Floating Island for profit!"
The merchants' cries rang out noisily. Eli pinpointed her location: the village of Rophon.
"An hour to the capital."
Eli nodded in satisfaction. She approached the roadside to rest while her Stride recharged.
"Two fish cakes, please."
"Right away~ Here you go! Hey, what was that magic earlier? You just appeared out of nowhere."
"Aww, good eyes. Nothing special."
Eli.
She wielded Space. Not mere teleportation, but literal manipulation of space itself.
She could transfer her own space elsewhere—or anyone else's, to anywhere. The cost: immense mana.
Eli often used this talent when killing living beings, severing head from body.
Of course, if they resisted with mana or magic, it took a bit more force—but against foes far beneath her league, a single blink could dismantle their limbs.
"...These fish cakes are delicious!"
"Haha, eat up. Cheap at two for 1 elne."
"Nee~! Two more!"
Eli clutched two more skewers.
After the exam ended, on the main street of the Floating Island.
Ifrin trotted after Sylvia, with Maho alongside.
"Ifrin~ Is it really okay for us to tail her like this~?"
Maho asked worriedly. Ifrin scratched her neck.
"It's not tailing. We're just walking together."
"A~ Really~?"
They were literally side by side.
Sylvia could hear the conversation, her ears twitching in disbelief.
Just then, Sylvia stopped. In a residential neighborhood on the Floating Island. Ifrin glanced up absentmindedly—and jolted.
There, in the sky—not sky, but another row of houses.
"Wh-what the hell is that!"
Astounded Ifrin. A mage pulling a newspaper from a mailbox looked up at her. Their eyes met from above and below; the mage smirked and went inside.
"The Floating Island's residential areas use magitech spatial partitioning for efficiency. You're too dumb to know that."
Sylvia's words. She casually inserted a key into the front door. Ifrin and Maho sidled closer.
"This your place?"
"Yes."
Ifrin swallowed enviously.
A house on the Floating Island? She's from another world.
"House prices high here?"
"Ten million elne."
"Whoa. This little place is ten million elne?"
"Isn't that too expensive~?"
Ifrin and Maho gaped. Ten million elne could buy a mansion in the capital, yet Sylvia's home was barely 20 pyeong.
"That's how the Floating Island is."
"Well... yeah, Sylvia. So, you quitting university now?"
"..."
Sylvia didn't answer.
Ifrin felt oddly miffed and pouted.
"Can I still come visit sometimes?"
"..."
Sylvia gave the faintest nod. Ifrin's eyes widened.
"Huh? Did you just—did you just nod?"
"Yes."
Sylvia had pondered Ifrin at length but decided: she'd use her as 'firewood' now.
Better a rival than none.
"I'll be on the Floating Island a lot now anyway. I'll drop by."
"Me too~ Me too~"
"..."
The sudden intruder—Maho or whatever—was annoying, but Sylvia nodded.
"Bye then, Sylvia! See ya!"
"Bye~"
With Maho and Ifrin beaming, thud!
The door shut.
Sylvia surveyed the perfectly unpacked interior. Cramped compared to her capital mansion, but she preferred it.
Too big alone would feel lonely.
Sylvia entered the bedroom first. Her Bear-Panda and Nimble-Rat awaited.
"I'm home."
At her words, flap-flap—Nimble-Rat flew over, wings fluttering. Bear-Panda leaped with cape billowing.
Both were lives she'd created via mana stones.
Sylvia hugged them and sat on the bed.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
"..."
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
An empty room with only the clock moving.
Bored, Sylvia pulled an art notebook from her nightstand. Scribble-scribble—she began sketching a portrait.
A sharp, cold handsome man with striking blue eyes.
Deculein.
Back at Yukline Manor after so long, I immersed myself in training and Understanding.
Much to do.
I needed to complete Mid-tier Telekinesis before slacking further—and practice handling the Frost Stone to some degree.
23.1%
A mere 23.1% Understanding. Far to go, but fortunately, I could control the corresponding 20% corner.
"...Not bad."
The Frost Stone was as mysterious a metal as its fame suggested.
I condensed a corner with Telekinesis, like a ping-pong ball.
Unprocessed, it shifted freely like rubber bands. Unfurling like cloth, balling into a sphere, spiking like thorns...
Its responsiveness to Telekinesis outmatched any metal.
Knock-knock.
A timely knock.
I knew who it was, so suppressing a smile, I opened the door with Telekinesis.
"Professor. A snack."
Julie. After getting lost during the 'Training Island raid,' she'd self-punished by taking over maid duties.
"Enjoy."
She set the tray of coffee and treats on my desk.
I shrugged.
"Julie. No need to be so hard on yourself. Can't help being directionally challenged."
Julie bit her lip slightly.
"How's the training?"
"Just finished."
80% of the Frost Stone stayed in the safe; the rest, balled up in my pocket.
Julie said,
"Opening ceremony soon."
"Indeed. We'll both be busy. You and I."
Julie smiled wryly and handed over documents.
"What's this?"
"Analysis of foot traffic near Yukline Manor. Captured several who patrol irregularly at regular intervals. Identities of those showing 'suspicious movements beyond ordinary folk.'"
I read it. About 33 names—expected surveillance.
Not just the Altar: the imperial family, eunuchs, other nobles all eyed Yukline.
"Julie."
"Yes."
"Thank you."
Flustered by my words, Julie scratched her neck and eyed the shelves. Neatly lined with herbology tomes.
Guessing my intent, a faint smile graced her lips.
"No. Thank you."
Lately, I'd studied ways to heal Julie.
No—the best method, I already knew.
But my selfish desire to stay with her rebelled against it.
"Off you go."
"Yes. Rest well."
Julie bowed and left.
Alone again in the quiet annex.
I sipped Julie's coffee, gazing at the night sky.
Stars twinkled in the dark; the brew was bitterly strong.
"...You made it yourself."
Maids could handle coffee. Who drinks it this bitter?
I shook my head and drank.
Not a drop left. All of it.
Ring-ring-ring— Ring-ring-ring—
Mid-August sun poured through half-open curtains into the Imperial University dorm.
Ring-ring-ring— Ring-ring-ring—
Room 201's alarm blared.
Ring-ring-ring— Ring-ring-ring—
Obnoxiously loud.
"Ughhh... Stop..."
Ring-ring-ring— Click.
Ifrin groaned awake.
"Ah..."
Hangover crushed her skull. Too many recent celebration parties.
Not just Flat Plains Exploration crew including Julie—even folks from home visited.
"Gonna die..."
She shuffled to the sink. Splashed water while eyeing the mirror.
"...Interview day's today."
Deculein's assistant interview.
Tension aside, unsolved questions surfaced first.
"Pendant."
Mumbled through cotton mouth: pendant.
Ifrin couldn't fathom it.
Why Deculein valued her 'preciously.' Why carry a pendant with her photo.
Maybe some incident tied to her father's death she didn't know.
"Or..."
Ifrin eyed her reflection.
"I'm pretty popular, huh."
Even reeking of booze, she didn't look bad anywhere.
Dressed up? She'd outshine anyone. This mug was killer; curves glamorous enough for Julie's awe.
Grandparents called it civil service gold.
"Nah, professor doesn't like me. Pfft."
Laughing at her own absurdity, Ifrin warmed the water.
Stripped pajamas, cleaned nooks with Fluid Manipulation.
"Ah~ Semester starting soon. Good times over~"
Grabbed baggy tee, pants, robe, backpack from closet; left dorm.
Cicada-chirp! Cicada-chirp!
Crossed sunlit campus to the tower.
"Soda Ifrin reporting."
No longer debutante, she entered the elevator, hit 77.
Ding!
77th floor hallway.
Interview day, yet empty. Ruina's floor buzzed.
"Ack! Soda Ifrin! Here!"
Allen waved from the interview desk.
Heh. Soda Ifrin. Not debutante... Ifrin snickered, approaching.
"Go in?"
"Yes! You're last, Ifrin."
"..."
Obviously.
Ahem. Clearing throat, Ifrin knocked.
─Enter.
Door opened to Deculein, impeccably groomed as ever.
Ifrin strode over, sat before him.
"Ifrin."
"Yes."
Deculein asked coldly.
"Applying for assistant, correct."
Allen handled both assistant and sub-professor roles, but no need under Deculein specifically.
Regular Soda mage life in tower, then post-thesis under him—better for career maybe.
"Yes. Correct."
But Ifrin hated wasting time. Wanted truth on Deculein and her father ASAP.
Then.
"Very well. I respect that resolve. Accepted."
Thud!
Deculein stamped the form instantly. Sudden decision spooked Ifrin.
"Just like that?"
"Only two applicants."
"..."
Deculein delivered the bleak fact in icy tones.
Recalling hundreds flocked to Ruina, Ifrin nearly laughed. Then spotted the slip.
"Wait, two?"
"...'Two'?"
Deculein furrowed his brow. Ifrin shook head frantically.
"No, I mean—who's the other?"
"Drent."
"Drent..."
"The one who plagiarized your thesis. Apologized already, I heard."
"Yes. Right."
Ifrin got Drent's sincere apology. Even stopped him kneeling.
Why apply under Deculein? Whose paper-burning he endured.
Deculein said,
"Ifrin."
"Yes."
"You'll attend tower classes while acting as research assistant. Salary provided. Pre-semester tasks assigned to Allen—collect them."
"Sa-salary! Yes! Got it!"
"Dismissed."
Rising, Ifrin peeked at Deculein. Already buried in papers.
Or pretending.
All focus on her maybe.
"Bye."
Unnerved, Ifrin fled.
Allen greeted her.
"Soda Ifrin! Congrats on assistant!"
"Huh? Ah, haha. Yeah, thanks."
"Follow me. To the lab."
Allen grinned, leading to [Assistant Lab].
77th floor lab dwarfed dorms—clean, spacious.
Could nap on floor... Admiring, Allen said,
"Your spot, Ifrin."
Deculein-style: luxury chair, desk. Ifrin hung backpack behind.
"Now, research tasks."
"Yes. Hand 'em over."
Thud!
Thick tome landed. Familiar; Ifrin nodded calmly.
"Essence of Earth Attributes... Tough, but research-worthy."
"Nee~ Right~ And this."
Then.
Thud!
Another.
Ifrin blinked.
"Two? Rupalens' Chronicles—high-level grimoire, right?"
"Nee~ Right~ And this."
Thud!
Third.
"Uh, wait."
"This too. This, this."
"W-wait!"
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Grimoires piled.
"This too."
"St-stop!"
"This too."
"Please stop! No!"
Not four. Not five. Not six.
Understanding of Flames,
Sea Exploration Logs,
Comprehensive Attribute Immersion,
Harmony of Four Elements,
Pillars of Four Elements,
Wind Calculations...
Thirteen total.
"..."
"All research tasks! Professor's order: master before semester starts!"
Deculein aimed to raise Ifrin as four-elements specimen for 'carbon research.' Ifrin gaped blankly.
"...He's insane."
"No! Don't say that! Bad words might bar you from sub-professor forever. Oh, take this."
Allen handed a slip. Ifrin, half-spaced, mumbled.
"What's... this...?"
"Ah. Professor covers book costs fully, but some copyrights unexpired. Unlike books, mages pay copying fees themselves, right?"
In short: receipt.
Ifrin staggered, eyed the price.
"...Ah."
"Seems pricey now, but these are priceless grimoires! ...I-Ifrin? Ifrin? Ah, ack! Ifrin—!"
Five seconds later, she fainted.
...Dim Hadekan lord's castle.
"Here again?"
Yeriel scowled at ledgers: imperial aid for [Rohalak Detention Camp], [Underground Passage] income.
"Yes. Said he has something to give... Can't chase off imperial, so gave him a guest room."
Jolang the uninvited eunuch. Yeriel sighed.
"Give it and send him off."
"You know he won't listen."
"Tch..."
Then.
Knock-knock.
Butler glared at door, shaking head.
"Open it."
"Yes."
Butler opened. Jolang outside.
"Greetings, Yeriel."
He grinned brazenly, sat before her. Told butler,
"Step out, please."
"..."
Butler checked Yeriel's face, left. Jolang beamed, placed an artifact necklace on desk.
"Take a look."
"So shameless. How'll you handle the fallout?"
"See it, and you'll change your mind."
Jolang brimmed with odd confidence. Yeriel eyed him and necklace alternately.
This eunuch barging in. Rat-faced sneak— what scheme?
"Hurry. See it, and I'll go."
Tch.
Whatever— to boot him. Curious his futile ploy.
Yeriel clicked tongue, picked up necklace.