Clairvoyance
Clairvoyance. Just as the name suggests, it's the ability to see incredibly far away, even miles into the distance.
I taught myself this skill back when I was at the temple. The reason? Pure boredom during those endless prayer sessions. I wanted a sneaky way to goof off without anyone noticing, and peeking at what was happening outside the temple sounded fun.
"Let's see..."
Back in the infirmary, I fine-tuned my Clairvoyance viewpoint. There are all sorts of Clairvoyance out there, and mine lets me look down on a specific spot from high above, like a third-person game camera. Others can glimpse the past or future, but sadly, that's not me. Apparently, those are innate gifts—nothing a late bloomer like me could ever pick up.
"First up, let's check on Student Serpia."
Anyway, I slowly shifted the observation point. Part of me wanted to scan the whole Arcanum Academy from above, but Clairvoyance is still just "looking" with my eyes. Sure, it can reach hundreds of kilometers, but the identifiable range at once is about human eyesight. Even saints can't know everything like some all-seeing god.
"Hmm, not around here?"
I scanned the academy high and low for Student Serpia. But even after combing likely spots during one full class period, no dice—especially not in the nearby classrooms. Break time hit, and I slumped over my desk, brain in overdrive.
Thinking about it, no wonder this was tough. I didn't even know her department or class schedule. And with Arcanum Academy's massive scale—not to mention I barely knew the layout—finding her this way was basically impossible. It'd take ages.
"...Should I ask Lucille when I see her?"
In the end, I switched targets. Pinpointing someone else with Clairvoyance and locking on is tricky without a link. But if they have something infused with my mana or Holy Power, that's a different story.
"Time to find Student Trius."
Conveniently, Student Trius had one such item: the handkerchief I gave him with the ointment. Handmade by a saintess, it doubled as a holy relic—perfect for anchoring my Clairvoyance.
"Not that I gave it to him for this purpose..."
I synced my Clairvoyance to the handkerchief.
"Ah, there he is."
Unlike elusive Student Serpia, Trius popped up instantly.
"...Looks like it worked."
He must've applied the ointment; the bruises were still vivid, but his split lip had stopped bleeding and started healing. Probably barely hurt anymore. Seeing that eased my worries—and stabbed a bit less at my conscience.
"Huh, this place looks familiar..."
For some reason, the background around Trius felt oddly recognizable. The hallway paintings, furniture layout—it was one of the few spots in this unfamiliar academy that rang a bell.
Creak.
Sure enough, the infirmary door swung open, and in walked Student Trius. Caught off-guard mid-Clairvoyance, I startled but played it cool, peeking over my desk like I'd just noticed.
"Oh, hey. What hurts this time?"
I asked casually, like a nurse greeting any walk-in—like nothing weird had happened.
"Ah, it's you. Trius, right? How's the spot that got hit? Did you try the ointment I gave you?"
I stood, flashing a light smile, acting like I'd only just recognized him.
"...Yes, thanks to you, it's much better."
"Oh? What's this...?"
Trius—the brown-haired boy—widened his eyes in slight surprise, then bowed his head and handed me something.
"My handkerchief? You already washed and dried it? In less than two hours?"
Amazingly, it was spotless, better than any academy laundry service. He must've done it himself—probably with magic, since hand-washing seemed unlikely.
"Yes, thank you so much."
"No need to thank me that much. I'm just doing my job."
I took it back, but now I'd lose my Clairvoyance anchor on him.
"You didn't have to return it right away, though. Just recharge it with some mana, and it'll disinfect any wound clean as new."
I smiled and handed it back. It sounded offhand, but it was the real power of the holy relic woven in. No exaggeration. I felt a little guilty anyway, so why not? Plus other motives, of course.
"......No, thank you. The ointment was more than enough. I can't take the handkerchief too. Besides..."
Trius eyed me with faint concern, no further explanation. It was the look of someone warning that if word got out I'd given him the handkerchief and ointment, I'd face a world of hassle.
I mulled it over—Serpia instantly came to mind. If she found out, things wouldn't end well for me. Collateral damage, basically.
"Got it. No need to push, then."
He'd returned it out of worry for me, it seemed. Sighing inwardly, I pocketed it and returned to my seat with a natural smile.
"Anyway, how's the bruised spot? I can heal it fully right now if you want."
But as I'd told Lucille before, in cases like this, it's often best to leave minor wounds be—unless it's life-or-death.
"I'm fine. The pain's almost gone."
As expected, Trius shook his head. That half-healed state—scar visible but painless—seemed ideal.
"Good to hear. Still, take care of it? Don't want any scars."
"Yes, I will. Thank you."
Trius bowed politely again and turned to leave.
...Hmm.
Part of me wanted to grill him right then about what was up with Serpia. Lucille said they'd been closer than family once—practically lovers. So why was she treating him like an enemy now? Curiosity burned.
But I couldn't bring myself to ask. Not with our near-stranger status.
"Hey, Student Trius."
"Yes? Did you call me?"
Regret won out; I stopped him.
"Next time, knock lightly before coming in. You startled me."
"Ah... I forgot. Sorry."
"It's fine. I'm just a bit jumpy."
"Yes, I'll knock next time."
With that, Student Trius left. Alone now, I fiddled with the returned handkerchief, kicking myself.
Should've just asked outright? Nah—Arcanum had unwritten rules about not meddling in other families' business. Even if I snooped secretly, better keep the parties clueless.
"Gone again already..."
When I checked with Clairvoyance again, he'd vanished into the student crowds.
"At least he's in the magic department, probably. Focus there, and I'll find him."
From context, Serpia bullied him over his magic talent—something she lacked. So magic department made sense.
I pulled out a campus map to locate the magic classrooms.
That's when—
"......That guy's not in the magic department."
"?"
A voice from the infirmary—unfamiliar. I whipped around, scanning with Clairvoyance.
A small black-haired boy lounged on a bed, staring right at me with crimson-golden eyes sparkling.
"The guy who just left? Swordsmanship department. Same classes as me."
Who the heck was this kid?
'Class time's about here.'
Leaving the infirmary, Trius changed into his swordsmanship uniform in the familiar locker room. His face still bore marks from hours ago.
A noble lady's slender hand had struck him—but amplified by magic tools, it hit like a club. Thankfully, the nurse's ointment worked wonders; the wound was healing fast, pain nearly gone.
Zing!
"Ugh."
Still, moving his face or neck muscles brought a wince-worthy sting. Not severe, but annoying enough in his routine.
Nothing bugged him more than nagging pain in the daily grind.
"Anyway, how's the bruised spot? I can heal it fully right now if you want."
If he'd taken the nurse up on it, no lingering ache.
"......"
But Trius couldn't ask. Guilt, plain and simple.
This scratch would heal with time. But he'd already inflicted a lifelong scar on her heart.
"...Why? Why swordsmanship over magic? You've never even held a sword."
Closing his eyes summoned her face vividly.
That night after freshman orientation, when majors were revealed.
"I assumed you'd go magic and prepped a staff for you."
Serpia's expression upon learning he'd chosen swordsmanship.
"You're talented enough to be an Archmage, unlike me..."
A face he'd never seen in their five years together.
"So why—?!"
More devastated than when she'd learned she couldn't use magic. Like her last desperate grip shattering to pieces.
And then Serpia said:
"......Don't tell me you're pitying me?"
As if betrayed cruelly by the one person she'd trusted and loved most in the world.