Vanishing With the Debt (1)

Early the next morning.

Not a single alarm had gone off, and still Levian sat bolt upright the instant six o'clock arrived.

His condition was, surprisingly, not bad.

For having passed out, the price came cheap.

There was no strength in him, but that was only the blood loss. Eat, and he would be fine soon enough. The trouble was not his body.

More to the point, where is this?

He had never seen the room before. It was not even the infirmary. Bookshelves crowded the walls, a desk held the center, and a broad window looked out past a partition onto a bed done in pastel. A faintly sweet smell hung in the air. Someone clearly lived here.

He shifted his gaze at her answer.

Professor Ivy.

Professor Ivy lay asleep with the blanket clutched around her like a chrysalis, breathing in soft little snores. Her hair was a wreck, and a thin thread of drool had escaped the corner of her mouth. She looked entirely at peace.

I should repay her next time.

There was no sense in waking someone who slept that well. Levian got up at once and made the bed he had been lying in, pulling the rumpled sheet smooth and folding the blanket into a neat square at the head.

This much shouldn't count as a nuisance.

The Administrator might have fainted to hear it, but it was hardly a matter she needed to pick over line by line. She was an aide, nothing more. She knew Levian and Ivy were not yet close, and so she added nothing unnecessary. In any case, Ivy's gaze had left even her faintly unsettled.

Since I woke up away from my own bed, I should start with a jog.

Levian slipped straight back into his routine: an hour of exercise from the crack of dawn.

This time she could not swallow the scolding.

But.

"There's an hour left. Until breakfast."

"Then. Lend me a little money?"

Levian paid her no mind. There had never been a day in his life when he was full, and nothing trained the body more efficiently than exercise on an empty stomach.

The Administrator could only stew. If she still had flesh, she would have beaten that inhuman creature's back black and blue. There was nothing for it. All she could do was hope he finished his task as quickly as possible and found a friend to stand beside him—Professor Ivy, the fairy half-blood; Noxisia, the necromancer whose insides were pitch-black; or some other presence no one had expected.

And while she watched him with that complicated heart, Levian, who moved strictly by the clock, had already changed and finished preparing to leave.

Up at six. Exercise for fifty minutes. A shower in nine, and a change of clothes in one. At this rate even the Administrator was seriously wondering whether a clock had been set inside him.

Today's lecture... ah. Principles of the Circuit again.

Four hours had been assigned from first period, taught by the very professor who had thrown him out without ceremony yesterday. The morning was already going to be unpleasant.

A class on perfectly drawing an incomplete mana circuit. The premise is nonsense.

To Levian, a lecture on mana circuits was no different from learning basic arithmetic—and even that arithmetic was the sort that insisted one plus one equaled three. He did not like it.

He paused a moment before the dormitory door. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠There was a mountain of work waiting if he meant to strengthen Mana Link and Creation, and he had no desire to waste time in a class that worshipped a wrong theory as if it were truth.

I'd rather spend that time finding my own path.

Yesterday's duel had taught him one thing. He still lacked the strength to stand alone. Better to hunt a stroke of fortune, like the ancient hollow, than sit through a useless lecture.

The Administrator had told him as much. This academy, raised by the power of the Creators, still held countless undiscovered Mysteries. With Creation and Clairvoyance, he ought to be able to step into those unknown spaces.

...Everyone skips class now and then. It shouldn't be a problem if I do too.

If anything, given how thoroughly the professor and the students disliked him, they might prefer he stayed away.

Today picks up from yesterday: Basic Defense Magic. Submit the assignment ahead of time, and that should be enough.

The material was not difficult. Levian took out his notebook, roughly set down the mana-circuit structure that had come to mind, tucked his staff away, and tore a single dormitory meal ticket from the stack by the door. He meant to eat, then stop by the lecture hall before the other students gathered.

Then—

Fwoosh—!

An unidentified flame surged up as if to keep him from leaving. Violet fire, burning like a wall, sealed the entrance entire.

"Ah. About time."

Even the Administrator, watching in silence, flinched. Levian's face stayed perfectly flat. This was not the first time he had been blocked like this.

"So. How much is it today?"

As if in answer, the crackling sparks wrote letters on the air.

Nearly a month had passed since he enrolled. Levian, driven out of the orphanage, had no means of paying dorm fees or living expenses, so he had been getting by on the minimum the academy's General Affairs office would lend him.

Monthly interest: 8.8 percent.

The interest, it seemed, had come due. At this rate the debt would pile up like snow. If he could at least earn excellent marks and attract a sponsor, that would have helped.

They say first on the written exams isn't enough for a scholarship, let alone a sponsorship.

Academy enrollment was compulsory, of course, so even without a sponsor there were ways to earn money. Alkanium's fees were never a heavy burden for children who had parents to begin with, and even grades that would not draw a patron could still be turned into commissions and fees. The problem was that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Levian, until now unable to cast a single spell, could not be trusted with so much as an odd job—do the laundry, take the notes.

I can use basic magic now. I'll look for work that won't strain my body.

He walked out without hesitation, passing straight through the flame that barred the way. As he had read from the mana circuit, it was only a warning. It was not hot, and it would do him no harm.

Levian tilted his head. An Administrator shut away in a corner of the ancient hollow could hardly produce modern currency. He could not tell why she was asking. Was she about to offer advice?

Can't I just make it with Creation?

Hearing that innocent voice ask so catastrophically dangerous a question, the Administrator felt the nape of a neck she did not even possess begin to throb.

When that horrified reply came back, Levian nodded, loose and unconcerned.

I wasn't planning to, anyway.

Effort does not betray a person. He had ground away at mana circuits until, at last, he could use magic; he had no intention of taking empty risks for a shortcut the way other people did. It had only been curiosity.

He had reached the dormitory's central hall and was approaching the public Ouija Board when—

"Ah—ah?! L-Levian?!"

The student using it shot to his feet.

"...You planning to pick a fight?"

Another challenge, continuing from yesterday? Levian reached for his staff as a matter of course, and the other student dropped to his knees on the spot.

"Ack! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

He seemed to be a senior, and the reaction was excessive. He had clearly not stood up looking for a fight.

"I'd like to use the Ouija Board."

At Levian's flat question—

"O-of course I'll get out of the way! Please, go ahead and use it!"

Shameless, the student scrambled backward on his knees and vanished.

...Why is he like that?

She broke into stifled laughter. No matter how he turned it over, it sounded like a joke. One fight yesterday, and they acted like this. Did these people have no pride at all?

He glanced across the public hall at the other students. The Administrator did not seem to be wrong.

"Eek! I'll be quiet! Sorry!"

"H-hey, could I maybe ask ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you about this mana circuit..."

"You lunatic! Read the room before you ask!"

He had only moved his eyes, and the noise was immediate. It was not a scene that interested him. He did not have the leisure to care about people who could not cast a single proper spell.

"...Pathetic."

He tossed out the word and turned his attention to the Ouija Board.

There were plenty of commissions besides those, and not one of them was work Levian could do at his present level. Anything that assumed a fight was nearly impossible on the mana he had now.

Hm. Then I'll have to check the anonymous board too.

With no other choice, he opened the anonymous board everyone else avoided.

"Ugh..."

It was revolting. Requests to steal an athletic-club boy's shirt and underwear, or to stalk a girl, were the baseline. Beyond those, the board was packed with commissions so outlandish they made him want to wash out his eyes.

He was on the point of giving up, certain there was nothing he could manage on the narrow mana Mana Link allowed, when he found one that was not bad.

It had gone up the evening before, and luckily it was unpopular enough to still be there. A hundred thousand florins up front, with more by the hour. Simple enough to be worth doing.

Still. Just in case.

Now and then, spies of the Eastern Union—and criminals—crawled onto the anonymous board. With Clairvoyance he pierced the Ouija Board's circuit and began taking the anonymous board's structure apart.

What I need is the client's identity and last location. Roughly... fixing these six should do it.

Tap. Tap.

Levian moved his fingers and revised the circuit. At once the screen crackled, and a name appeared where the anonymity had been.

He did not know who she was, but the name was written in blue. Academy-affiliated, at the least.

I'll take this one.

For Levian, who had already wandered every corner of the place, finding a path underground was simple. He accepted the anonymous commission at once.

Ding!

"At last...!"

Mira, hearing in that same moment that a lifeline had finally been lowered into this horrible maze. A faint smile rose across a face that rarely changed, and then it was gone.

Before that, I should eat.

Levian, for his part, had no idea what the client was feeling.

Ah. I should submit the assignment at the lecture hall on the way.

He looked thoroughly unhurried.