Second Semester (2)

Hadekain's lord's castle.

Yeriel picked up the necklace on her desk. It was clearly an artifact, one that seemed to record a specific scene.

"Please, take a look."

Jolang gestured invitingly with his hand. Yeriel still wore a suspicious expression, but she soon channeled mana into the crystal orb on the necklace.

The recording ended there. It was short, but even the date and time were logged. It was from last year.

Jolang smiled brightly.

"I believe Lady Yeriel, as a mage, would know best if this artifact is genuine... but please, see for yourself."

He held out part of a sealed paper.

"Red hair isn't all that common, so after a thorough investigation..."

Jolang had mobilized every connection in the Adventurers' Guild to restore this document. It was the eunuch's power, even piercing the guild that prized integrity above all.

"Do you see this target?"

"You're the target. Whatever the mission is, I wouldn't know. But it's obvi—"

"Idiot."

"...Pardon?"

To Jolang's utter surprise, those words came back at him. Yeriel smirked at him.

"Nah, I just wondered if you only now realized we don't get along."

"...Haha. Is that so?"

"Anyone would think I've been head over heels for Deculein all this time, slaving away at territory affairs because of it. Whatever. If you're done, get out."

Jolang kept his expression neutral, just like Yeriel. He calmly continued.

"Then we should understand each other perfectly."

"Understand my ass. Are you really that stupid? Can't even comprehend 'get out'?"

Even at the insult, he kept smiling brightly—but the next words made his face stiffen.

"Fucking dickless eunuch bastard."

"..."

For a moment, his hidden fist under the desk clenched tight. Humiliation and shame brought veins to his eyes. Jolang trembled all over, while Yeriel just twisted her lips.

"What're you staring at? I said get out."

"...You'll regret this someday."

Leaving those words, Jolang stormed out, accompanied by the palace knight.

Yeriel silently watched him go, then shifted her gaze to the necklace and contract on the desk.

"Milady."

Right on cue, the butler entered. Yeriel wordlessly stared out the window.

Angry stomps echoed from the corridor, but the night soon settled into silence.

Twinkle, twinkle. A sky full of stars.

"Hey."

She murmured wistfully to her butler.

"Yes."

"Looks like Deculein never intended to keep his promise from the start."

She placed her fingers on the contract and necklace.

Yeriel admitted to herself that Deculein had been playing her all along.

He'd talked of oaths to reassure her, while scheming these dirty deeds behind the scenes. Reassuring her over and over, until the moment he discarded her like trash.

"Is that so."

Deculein had only promised with words. She'd believed him and taken nothing in writing. He already knew she'd refuse an oath, clinging to lingering family bonds.

That damned bastard.

"What should I do?"

But of course, she couldn't let Deculein know any of this. Not even a hint.

There was no guarantee Jolang wouldn't blab to him first. The guy had come to her precisely because he hated Deculein gaining too much power.

The butler said,

"...We—no, this territory—have been on Lady Yeriel's side for a long time."

His words reassured her, but Yeriel felt an inexplicable sadness.

Deep in her heart, did she still wish to get close to the man she'd once called brother? To be together?

"Yeah. Thanks. You can go."

"Yes. Rest well."

In the lord's office after the butler left.

Yeriel turned off all the lights. Starlight poured in from the window. In that darkness, she played the necklace recording again.

"..."

Listening to Deculein's cold words, rereading the damning contract, Yeriel quietly wiped away tears.

...Students trickling back with their carriers one by one, the occasional clashes and shouts from knight cadets sparring, dorms and shop streets buzzing with everyday energy.

Thus, the Imperial University Tower's semester start was near, evident from the campus vibe.

"Head Professor!"

Students returning from hometowns or distant lands enjoyed peaceful breaks awaiting classes, but professors were different.

Not just undergrad instructors—magic professors too were busy with lesson plans and prep.

"Here, found it."

I saw Allen approaching, rifling through documents. The one who'd seemed ready to leave at semester's end had decided to stay a bit longer.

"The old proposal you mentioned."

Allen handed over a stack. Lesson plan proposals written by Ifrin's father, still shrouded in mystery.

I planned to reference them for second-semester classes.

"...Hm."

The core was 'handling elements more purely,' but it was obvious why Deculein hadn't accepted it.

It went beyond undergrad level—modern equivalent of grad school theory.

"It'll make for quite an advanced lecture."

"Ahh! Advanced lecture?!"

Allen gaped. I nodded, and he looked amazed.

But I'd tweak the title suitably.

Pure Application of the Four Elements: 'Manipulation' Series, or Pure Application of 'Earth and Fire'—something fitting my aptitudes.

To reiterate, Deculein's talents lay in manipulation, with earth and fire elements.

"Good work. You're dismissed."

"Oh, and this too! Mail arrived in the sponsor box."

Allen handed over the entire sponsor mailbox. Probably just one letter from Ifrin.

"See ya~"

As soon as Allen left, I tore open the letter.

"Blue slug, huh..."

I folded it carefully and tucked it in a drawer. Then, I activated the crystal orb showing the Assistant Lab interior.

Whirr—A hologram-like view of the lab appeared, with Drent researching and Ifrin studying.

"Feels a bit empty."

The assistant lab brimmed with top-grade equipment. Desks, chairs, air purifiers, temperature controls—all premium, spacious enough for dozens.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

But with just two people, it felt lacking.

If Sylvia were there...

Yeah, her absence was noticeable. Perfect in attitude, comprehension, talent.

"...She's doing well on the Floating Island, I suppose."

Yukline and Ilayde were blood enemies anyway—this was proper. Longer together, and who knows what Gilteon might do.

I nodded and stepped out of the office.

Today's duty as Policy Director: inspection. First stop, the current money pit—43rd floor, Ruina's office.

Ding—

"...?"

Stepping off the elevator, I frowned. Mages swarmed the hallway absurdly.

Ruina, leading them, spotted me.

"Ah, Policy Director. You're here."

I twisted my lips for no reason.

"...Quite a few assistants."

"Ah~ It's internship season."

"Internship?"

"Yes."

"How many interns?"

"A hundred. Trimmed it down to just a hundred since there were too many."

Ruina said it casually.

And truly, it was no big deal.

Ten of those hundred couldn't match Drent; all hundred couldn't match Ifrin.

"Like cockroaches swarming."

The words slipped out.

The noisy hallway fell silent. Ruina's hundred interns turned to me in unison, then hurriedly buried themselves in work upon eye contact.

Ruina crossed her arms.

"Even so, cockroaches? Harsh words."

"...Just hand over the report."

"Here. All sorted."

She submitted it like she'd been waiting.

I skimmed it and filed it away.

"By the way, Policy Director. You took in a Luna family kid under your wing?"

"Yes."

"What do you plan with her? She seems talented, sure."

I silently met Ruina's gaze. She looked up at me.

Come to think of it, alumni.

One who might know a bit about Deculein and Ifrin's father.

Ruina blinked and said,

"Well, that's your business. Anyway, here. Conference invite. And Lokralen tickets."

Lokralen Conference. A quest popped over the text.

Lokralen. A main quest spot for mage players.

I gravely accepted the invite.

"You coming too?"

"Huh? Ah, I'm busy. Those Lokralen tickets allow three companions—take whoever."

"Oh, Sylvia's here~"

Sylvia, ascended to the Floating Island, met Roserio.

Today's meeting spot: the island's most famous, vast library—Mejseion 10th floor 'Pentamol.' The 'gathering place of all the world's books' Sylvia had long wanted to enter.

"Here, your day pass."

Entry required Lumiere 5th Class or higher; authorization by Ether rank or above. Sylvia got a day pass from Roserio.

"Thank you."

"Yup. Let's head in~"

Roserio opened the door familiarly.

Mejseion's 10th floor: an entire floor as a library. Its immense space and book scent left Sylvia awestruck.

"It's huge."

"Yup. This library uses an archmage's barrier to expand its space magically. Probably bigger than the capital? Holds nearly every book in the world—not just grimoires, regular ones too."

"Can I borrow anything?"

"Up to three. For copyrighted ones, pay the knowledge copyright fee."

"Knowledge copyright."

"Yeah. Know-ledge copy-right."

Sylvia nodded. Roserio struggled with the pronunciation.

"This here's the info center. Ask that guy for what you want. 'Library Addict'."

At the info desk, Roserio pointed to a robed mage.

Sylvia tilted her head.

"Library Addict."

"Yup. Floating Island's full of addicts, but he's the most useful. Knows where every book is. His brain's a whole library."

Sylvia nodded and approached.

"Do you have Deculein's works?"

"Deculein has ten works total, but two are copyrighted."

Roserio's eyes widened.

"Why seek Deculein's? Most are trash except these three."

Roserio waved in the library center, pulling three papers: Pure Elements Convergence, Composite Four Elements, Element Creation Method.

"After these, he lost his edge. He's back now, sure. But these three got him to head professor. I was mid-teens then."

"Tsk tsk. I still can't believe he wrote them. Even now, many think they were ghostwritten."

Another voice chimed in. Sylvia turned. Longdalp stroked his beard.

Roserio pouted.

"What brings you here, old man? Stealing my explanation."

"Sylvia's nearly our peer. Came to meet her."

Longdalp smiled kindly at Sylvia.

"Sylvia. Good choice coming to the Floating Island. What could you learn at the tower?"

"Oh yeah, Sylvia. Know this? Old man fought Yukline over Ilayde."

"Hahaha. No need to bring that up."

Longdalp had sided with Ilayde in the past Yukline-Ilayde feud.

Partly from Ilayde patronage, partly disliking Yukline's then-head.

"Thank you."

Sylvia just replied that, then turned back to the addict.

"What's Deculein's most recent work?"

"This. Understanding Pure Elements: Yukline Revised Edition."

The addict reached out; a book floated up. Roserio smiled wryly, shaking his head.

"Ah, Sylvia. Can't borrow that."

"Why?"

"Deculein did limited release—targeted sales. Right?"

"Yes. He gifted it to only 17 people, all rave reviews. I haven't read it, but Lumiere Kreto called it 'the ultimate textbook condensing pure elements from basics to advanced.'"

"Kreto did?"

"Yes. And reviewer addict Astal included it in '100 Must-Keep Theory Books for the Floating Island,' praising Professor Deculein for 'solidifying the vague pure elements concept as an era's possibility.'"

Roserio pouted at that.

"Weird, right? So well-received, yet no sale. No one knows how groundbreaking it is 'cause it's not sold. I wanna read it too."

"Can't borrow it then?"

Sylvia asked again.

"Nah, can't bor—"

"You can. Soda Sylvia."

The addict contradicted Roserio mechanically. Roserio frowned.

"Huh? Why? I can't, why her?"

The addict turned his neck with a click to Roserio.

"Monarch Deculein authorized Soda Sylvia on the list."

"...Her? Sylvia?"

"Yes."

Roserio eyed Sylvia. She looked blank. Longdalp behind stroked his goatee with interest.

"You knew?"

"No."

Sylvia blankly shook her head. The addict asked again.

"Shall I lend it?"

"Y-yes. Please."

Stammering, the book Understanding Pure Elements: Yukline Revised Edition settled into her small hands. Sylvia fiddled with the soft cover, standing still.

Roserio licked his lips.

"Sylvia. Lemme see it too? Or spoil the contents later. Curious—hey! Where you going? Sneaky!"

Tatata—

Sylvia fled without hearing more.

...Late night. Tower 77th floor, Assistant Lab.

"I can't take this anymore! How am I supposed to finish before semester starts?!"

Ifrin yelled.

She'd half-finished her third book, Harmony of the Four Elements.

"You okay?"

Drent, experimenting with mana stones nearby, asked worriedly.

Ifrin sighed deeply.

"Senior. Why'd you apply to be Deculein's assistant? Rumors say he blackmailed you."

Plenty of gossip about promising Drent choosing Deculein. Near-consensus: blackmail.

"Blackmail? Nah."

Drent shook his head like it was absurd.

"He corrected my mistake, so I came. Still sorry to you. Went nuts over achievements back then."

"...Whatever. Means my idea was that appealing."

"Haha. Yeah. Sorry."

"Sigh... but."

Ifrin eyed the stack on her desk.

Thirteen books total, but equivalent to sixty normal ones. Each 700-800 pages.

"This make sense? Thirteen advanced texts."

Knowledge copyright or whatever ate her sponsorship. No more Roahawk for life.

Drent smiled wryly.

"Need help?"

"No... Professor left already?"

"Yeah. Two hours ago?"

"Ah~ Then I'm clocking out. Need rest."

"Okay. Night."

Drent had more work; Ifrin left the lab.

Heading for the elevator, she suddenly glanced at the grand door at the hall's end.

Head Professor Lab.

Gulp.

She swallowed unwittingly.

Her father once said he'd hidden his research records in Deculein's lab.

Under strict surveillance preventing removal, he'd hidden them there—in the darkest place under the lamp.

"Left two hours ago."

Ifrin scanned the 77th floor.

Pitch black.

No one should be here.

Ifrin crept to the head professor's lab.

Creep—creep—

On tiptoes, creep—creep—

Thirty seconds' distance took three minutes.

Sweating coldly, Ifrin gripped the handle. It opened with a gentle push.

"!!"

Ifrin jolted.

Not locked.

Or locked, but opened at her touch.

Had her father arranged even this?

"..."

The lab was pure darkness. Nothing visible anywhere.

Ifrin crawled silently.

Worming along, she groped the tiles. Father said: 'Touch it, and you'll know.'

Where? Which tile?

Here? No.

Where? Where?

No luck, so she gathered mana in her palm. Using it as light, she groped on.

—Then suddenly.

Something hard touched her hand. Found it! Ifrin gripped the pointed part tightly. But it wouldn't budge.

"...?"

Looking closer, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it was a shoe.

What the—

Ifrin curiously looked up.

"Ah..."

Her brain froze.

She stiffened, gripping the tile.

"..."

Ghoul-like blue eyes glared down.

Piercing gaze stabbed straight.

Ifrin realized too late.

No arrangements in this lab.

Just...

"What are you looking for?"

Deculein.

The lab's owner simply hadn't left yet.