Law and Fist (2)
"Please, have a seat here."
"Excuse me."
Grace settled onto the sofa in Delphoi's research lab. Meanwhile, Delphoi returned to his desk to prepare some light refreshments. During that time, Grace glanced around the room, wondering if anything had changed since her last visit.
His lab was typical of professors focused on theory rather than practice. Places for experimental research were elsewhere, and she'd visited those often enough herself.
This will be my last time here, too.
After today's consultation, she planned to work under Godin instead. Delphoi came from a reputable institution and had solid skills, but there was something off-putting about him. The way he'd sometimes call her in that oily voice, or brush against her subtly. Things she might not have noticed without Sivar's warning.
Each time, she'd shut him down coldly. And each time, he'd laugh awkwardly and back off, never trying it again.
Ability and character are separate things.
She'd learned that lesson deep in her bones from her family. Lions might drop cubs off cliffs to toughen them up, but that was just emphasizing the harshness of the wild. Real lions had strong communal bonds. Her family, House Berche, actually hurled their young off cliffs.
That alone was enough to make her shudder, but they wielded carrot and stick with masterful precision—providing just enough support to climb back up. It was enough to draw a hollow laugh.
And Sivar seems to have bad blood with them, too.
Grace glanced at Delphoi's back as he prepared coffee after the tea. She'd wondered why the professors had restricted Sivar's attack privileges, but recently learned the truth: Delphoi's politicking. He'd pushed for it solely because Sivar was too strong.
Any other student would cry foul at such an absurd condition, but Sivar made it a problem. Raised not in civilization but the wild, lacking morals or common sense—clearly dangerous. That perception ran deep, so many professors sided with Delphoi.
He's not harmful at all.
After teaming up with him several times, she'd realized it. He was utterly harmless—docile, even. Especially if you fed him something tasty; he'd do any favor asked. Take away his food, though, and he'd turn feral.
Still, Sivar was milder and more obedient than most wild beasts. The "dangerous" label probably stemmed from the accidents he'd caused.
Clink—
Lost in thought, Grace heard Delphoi set the tea and coffee on the table. She eyed her cup: greenish liquid with a faint powder settled at the bottom.
"It's green tea. One of the famous varieties from the East. Clears the mind. The powder at the bottom is just more tea leaves."
"I see. I'll enjoy it, then."
Grace smiled faintly and took a sip of the tea Delphoi had brewed. A meaningful smile tugged at his lips as he watched, but unfortunately, she didn't notice.
"It has a unique flavor."
"That's the Eastern touch."
Delphoi took a sip himself as he spoke. Grace popped a snack into her mouth. Eastern sweets to match the green tea—sweet with a subtle bitterness, an oddly perfect harmony. Satisfied, she set her cup down.
"So, after today, you'll be researching under Professor Godin?"
Delphoi spoke right after, wearing a friendly smile. On the surface, it seemed utterly innocent, but to Grace, it felt a touch lecherous. His mushroom-cut hair already gave an uncanny vibe; the smile only amplified it. Still, showing displeasure would be rude, so she responded politely.
"Yes. You're excellent, Professor Delphoi, but I need theory right now. No one else comes close to Professor Godin's lectures on that."
It was partly to escape Delphoi, but Godin's expertise was genuine. From what she'd heard, Godin wasn't great in practice but compensated with encyclopedic theory. His papers were flawless, and they'd spawned countless breakthroughs.
"That's when I realized: theory matters more than practice now. I'll learn from Professor Godin first, then ease into experiments."
"Hmm... I see. I'd wondered why you'd pick someone like Godin..."
Someone like Godin?
Grace's expression shifted at Delphoi's faintly dismissive tone. It sounded like she'd misheard, but no—she'd caught it clear as day. He clearly didn't like Godin. Sipping her tea, she inferred their relationship.
First, a question.
"What do you think of Professor Godin, Professor Delphoi?"
"To be honest... he's not all that great. Theory's fine, but the Academy values real power above all."
Even now, the subtle shade. He really seemed to despise the man. But Delphoi's argument had a glaring flaw—a massive one. Grace kept her smile as she countered.
"That's odd. Aren't you a mage too, Professor?"
"...Yes, but?"
"Magic originates from language itself. Practice matters, sure, but without exceptional linguistic foundation, it's meaningless. By that measure, Professor Godin's skills are outstanding. Wouldn't you say?"
Her words were spot-on. Language was magic's root, stem, and fruit. Dismissing Godin, with his mountain of theories and papers, was absurd.
"...True. But theory alone doesn't win battles."
"Maybe not. I disagree, though. Even flawed theories, rigorously tested and proven wrong, advance us enough..."
Grace trailed off mid-sentence. No—she had to stop. Her tongue felt stiff, frozen. Panicking slightly, she tried to move her mouth.
"Ah... uh...?"
But it wouldn't budge. Numbness spread from her tongue through her whole body.
What the hell?
Grace looked at Delphoi in alarm. He opened his mouth calmly, still smiling affably.
"What's wrong? Paralyzed mouth? Body not responding?"
"Uh... ah..."
"I see. Full-body paralysis, then."
His smile vanished in an instant. Looking down with contempt, he said coolly,
"Guess that means you're helpless now."
"Ugh..."
Thud—
Her body collapsed on its own, fully numb. She thrashed desperately, but couldn't even twitch a finger. Mana was useless too; circulating it did nothing.
"Mana won't help. Special brew— you'll feel everything."
"Why...?"
"Why? You've irked me for ages. That condescending glare, looking down on me. Seeing it change will be satisfaction enough."
Whoosh—
Delphoi smirked sleazily and straightened Grace's slumped form on the sofa. With her eyes closed, she'd look peacefully asleep. But his crime was far from over.
"Everyone—everyone—looks down on me. And now even that damn wildman dares. Unforgivable."
"..."
"Don't worry, I fear your family not a bit. You should fear them. No one's the wiser, it's win-win. Even if caught, you'd vanish anyway."
Across eras, a woman's "purity" was paramount. Defile it, and the consequences were dire—especially for a duke's daughter.
Grace's heart sank. He'd planned this far ahead? She knew exactly how her family would react.
Worse, the scars would linger forever. Family or not, she could never show her face again.
"Just endure a bit. Pain's fleeting; you'll enjoy it soon. Heh heh heh."
"Ah... uh..."
"Let's start with changing that filthy glare."
Delphoi caressed her face, then slid his hand downward slowly. To her blouse buttons. One by one, he undid them, leaving only her inner shirt. A white tee matching the uniform.
Remove that, and only underwear remained.
"Too much hassle to undress. I'll cut it. Let's see what a noble lady wears."
"Ugh...!"
She struggled futilely. But her tear glands worked fine. Panic welled; tears gathered in her eyes.
How did it come to this?
Riiip—
Before she could curse fate, Delphoi sliced her tee in half with a knife. Grace squeezed her eyes shut. Tears streamed, soaking the sofa.
"Ha! Mature underwear, huh? Matches that grown-up figure."
He peeled back the ruined shirt, grinning. Perfect body—pampered nobility. Purple lingerie to boot. Now, just fondle at will.
Delphoi licked his lips, leering.
"Blame bad luck, miss. No one's saving you."
"..."
No. Someone will come. Someone will save me.
Her purity was still intact. Grace prayed desperately—even to gods she'd ignored.
She prayed her life wouldn't end.
Please... anyone...
Did fairy-tale knights not exist? Was her last innocence crumbling?
As despair darkened her mind, Delphoi's filthy hand reached for her chest. Just as he moved to grope the ripe fruit—
Knock knock knock—
Someone knocked, as if answering her prayer. Delphoi scowled and glared at the door.
Terrible timing.
"Tch."
He clicked his tongue and stepped away. Grace felt a ray of hope.
Please notice something's wrong.
But Delphoi wasn't stupid. He cracked the door just enough to block the view.
They might leave unsuspectingly. Grace mumbled with her barely mobile mouth. Futile.
"...You?"
"Grace?"
"Grace?"
"Yeah. She here?"
Sivar.
Grace's eyes widened at his voice. Why was he here? Didn't matter—nothing felt safer.
She screamed desperately. Tongue frozen, but she had to try.
"Ah... uh..."
"She's gone. Something wrong?"
Even that faint sound was drowned out. Hope flickered out; grief surged.
He might leave now. Please notice.
"Gone? Smells like her."
"Smells?"
"Yeah. Grace smell."
"She was here till just now, so yeah. And why're you sniffing women? Pervert."
Rip that mouth off!
The man who'd nearly raped her moments ago. Grief mixed with rage. She wanted to destroy him.
"Now scram. Don't come back."
"Got it."
Click—
But the rage faded fast. Sivar obeyed and shut the door. Grace felt her last hope vanish, closing her eyes.
Her chest burned with resentment.
"Hmph. Sharp nose. Close call."
"..."
"Now, no more interruptions. Let's finish, miss."
Delphoi approached with a vile grin. Grace ground her teeth, then went limp.
Nothing left to do. Tears flowed as she mouthed,
"Hel...p..."
"What? Can't hear."
He mocked her still. In despair, she forced the words. Paralysis easing slightly—she could whisper.
"Hel...p... me..."
"Sure. I'll help you now..."
BAM!!
Delphoi's words cut off. The lab door burst open—literally flying inward, wrecking the room.
Startled, Delphoi whipped toward it. There stood the face from before, bold as ever.
"Heard you."
Grace smiled faintly at the voice. Fresh tears rolled down.
"Your voice."
The fairy-tale knight existed. A bit unconventional, but real.