Chapter 47 - The First Trial

"Cough, cough!! Ugh..."

"...Young Master Frey, are you alright?"

After coughing for what felt like ages in the bathroom, I snapped irritably at Irina's knock and question.

"...Mind your own business and clean properly."

"It's time to clean the bathroom."

But when Irina pushed back without backing down, I scowled and shot back.

"...Do it later."

There, right in front of me, was the sink splattered with blood.

"I've cleaned everywhere else. Only the bathroom left..."

"...Shut up and wait!!"

As she tried to open the door, I yelled desperately and started wiping away the bloodstains on the sink.

"...What the hell?"

But no matter how much I scrubbed, the blood didn't fade—it just smeared further.

"W-what? Why is this happening?"

Panicking, I even channeled Star Mana to frantically clean the sink, but the blood only spread more.

In the end, I twisted the faucet to wash it away, but...

".....!"

What poured out wasn't water—it was blood.

My mouth hung open in disbelief as I stared at the faucet. The sink filled with blood and overflowed, staining the bathroom floor red.

"...What is this, a hallucination?"

I must be seeing things right now. Come to think of it, it's been ages since the last hallucination. I thought I'd graduated from this crap after previous loops...

Did it start up again after hearing my little sister's voice last time?

"...This is insane."

The pooled blood on the floor climbed the walls and began dripping down onto me. Feeling a vague disgust, I grabbed the doorknob to leave, but for some reason, it wouldn't turn.

After struggling with it for a while, I almost smashed the door ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but held back with a grunt and returned to the sink, sighing deeply.

Then, my reflection in the mirror started grinning in a chilling way.

I covered my image with the info window and muttered quietly at my mental strength stat.

"...At this point, my mind should clear up again soon."

The moment I said it aloud, my head cleared, and the familiar bathroom came back into view.

'No wonder it felt off.'

Only then did I realize this hallucination was from the system. With my current mental strength, normal mental attacks or illusions barely faze me—I don't even fall for them.

So... the only thing that could show me a prolonged hallucination like this is the system—specifically, the "system's trials."

The "system's trials" are grueling ordeals the system imposes on its users, testing their abilities through various stages. And the first stage is exactly the hallucination I just saw.

'This'll be a hassle for about a week.'

The system's "first trial" lasts a week. Starting today, I'll keep seeing hallucinations.

But it's no big deal for me. Thanks to my high mental strength honed over past loops, even if I get hit with auditory or visual hallucinations like just now, my mind clears after a bit, returning to normal.

I learned that last time in the carriage with my sister's crying hallucination. Sure, I panicked a little back then because I was mentally worn out. But now, after three months of unintended rest, my mental state is rock-solid.

And honestly... I've been through way worse than these crude illusions countless times, so it barely registers.

Thus, I can probably breeze through the "first trial" without much trouble.

"Young... Master Frey...?"

"...Hm?"

As I finished thinking and headed out, Irina's voice came from the side. Glancing over, I saw her standing in the open bathroom door, staring blankly at me.

"Uh... what the hell is that?"

"...Ah."

She pointed shakily at the sink. Looking down casually, I saw blood mixed with water overflowing.

"How'd you get in?"

"Y-you opened the door for me, Young Master Frey?"

"I did?"

I hurriedly shut off the faucet and asked coldly. She said I let her in. Guess the door popped open when I yanked the knob earlier.

"Um... are you really okay?"

"Well..."

As I scowled to answer, I caught my reflection and lost my words. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Blood trickled from my lips, and my hands and clothes were stained.

"...Guess my body's not fully recovered yet."

In the end, I rinsed my mouth and hands at the sink, stripped off my clothes, handed them to her, and left while saying,

"Clean it spotless. Wash the clothes thoroughly."

"Wait... what the hell is all this..."

"Answer me."

"...Yes."

I shut the bathroom door, sighed as I lay on the bed, and muttered,

"...Gonna have to bribe the dean for finals after all?"

Pondering how much to slip the dean this time to avoid failing, drowsiness hit me, and I slowly closed my eyes.

Tonight, I just want a pure cat dream—no nightmares, no past-life bullshit.

.

.

.

"What... the hell?"

Around the time Frey drifted off on the bed, Irina stared blankly at the sink, frowning.

"...He definitely doesn't have any chronic illness."

No matter how she racked her brain, she'd never heard or read of Frey having a condition that caused vomiting blood. Even if he did, the Starlight family's vast wealth and power would've cured it ages ago.

So why was Frey Raon Starlight puking up so much blood?

'Come to think of it, that time felt off too.'

Irina, well-versed in mana flow, had roughly gauged his state when he first collapsed. Forcing mana into his body had burned and severed circuits everywhere, dealing serious damage.

But human mana circuits, evolved over millennia to handle mana, recover in a week with proper treatment.

Yet he'd slept for over three months—until today. She didn't know why, but one clue stuck out: when he collapsed, blood poured from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.

Sure, it could be aftereffects from the commoner dorm incident, as he said. But burned mana circuits and vomiting blood aren't related.

Irina knew this well—she'd ruptured and scorched her own circuits endlessly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through training in past loops.

'And I heard he had a bad bleed in the sickroom two months ago...'

Someone with unrelated symptoms repeatedly vomiting blood was highly suspicious. So what was the cause? Hidden illness? Poison? Or... Clana's constant "variable"?

Either way, his condition looked dire even to her, no medical expert. And at the center was the mysterious vomiting blood.

'Liana used to cough up blood sometimes protecting me. Which makes me think...'

As she wiped up the blood Frey had spewed, Irina recalled a past incident amid her swirling thoughts.

'Liana really was...'

The mysterious woman Liana who helped her shared too many traits with Frey: that sparkling mana she'd felt before, frail build, vomiting blood...

Her conclusion two months ago? High chance they were the same person.

But why? She wanted to grab his collar and demand answers, but cold reason held her back.

The cruel, horrific side of Frey she'd witnessed in past loops—worse than the Demon King in some ways—lingered as trauma, unerasable.

Plus, his true goal was unknown. Pretending to know rashly wasn't smart.

"...Sigh."

Sorting her thoughts, Irina wiped sweat from her brow and left the bathroom.

"Mmm..."

Her eyes fell on Frey, sleeping soundly on the bed. Staring intently, she quietly locked the dorm door and approached him.

"Young Master Frey."

Perching lightly on the bed's edge, she whispered in his ear.

"Frey."

Even her ticklish voice got no response.

"...What the hell are you thinking?"

Listening to his soft breathing filling the room, she stared piercingly at his face.

His features were purely innocent, like their first meeting. Of course, that pure white face had lost its light as his equally pure heart twisted into ugliness and filth...

But if some light remained... or if it never faded...

"...Ah."

Lost in thought, Irina realized she was stroking his hair. Panicking he'd wake, she yanked her hand back—but he stayed deep asleep. She pondered.

'Earlier, it felt familiar.'

When he hugged her before, feeling him up discreetly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gave the same scars and feel as Liana. He pulled away too quick for certainty.

But now, asleep...

"...Gulp."

No matter how hard she dug, as a mana-exhausted commoner nobody, Irina hit limits. She'd bridged gaps by legwork till now, but info was getting harder without risks.

Even with his bad rep, Starlight was one of the empire's three dukedoms—most powerful. Investigating its heir and acting head was tough.

So, a slight risk to probe him directly? Worth it. Magic was out—mana exhaustion.

'Just a little, very little...'

Steeling herself, Irina cautiously placed her hand on his body.

"Mm..."

Frey groaned softly and shifted. Frozen, she watched till he settled deep again, sighed quietly, and moved her hand.

Swish

Irina's hand glided softly over Frey's body.

"...Hm."

Tilting her head, she glanced at his face, then traced again.

Ssswish

After thoroughly feeling every inch while watching him, she pulled back and muttered inwardly.

'Clothes are too thick...'

The outfit he changed into after handing her his was bulky. Grumbling why wear that to bed, she deep-breathed and carefully undid his clothes.

"...Ngh."

His pale skin emerged. Hesitating at the sight, she checked his face again and lifted the fabric gingerly.

Shhlick

What met her eyes: his upper body, scarred here and there from burned mana circuits.

".....?"

Staring blankly, about to cover him, she sensed something off and tilted her head.

'Why are the mana circuit scars so irregular?'

Like organs, mana circuits are uniform across humans—that's why mana techniques and breathing methods standardized.

But his scars were odd. Like parts deliberately obscured by some effect. This bizarre sight stirred her curiosity and thirst for knowledge—the drive that made her a grand mage.

'Not sure, but it feels like he hid parts on purpose.'

Tracing his bare skin intently, she concluded some special medium cloaked body sections.

'So, what'd he hide...?'

Reaching that thought, Irina caressed his skin with trembling hands to uncover it.

Swish

Her hand on his smooth skin felt oddly rough. Frowning at the texture—

"...What are you doing right now?"

Kania's icy voice cut from behind.

"Eep!!"

Nearly screaming, Irina clamped her mouth, barely silencing herself, and glanced slyly at Frey.

"Umm..."

He shifted a lot but stayed asleep.

"Miss Irina?"

"Uh, well..."

Relieved, as Kania frowned questioningly, Irina stammered.

"Um... just checking if he has Demon Army marks or something... investigating..."

"I've already checked every inch. No need for further inspection."

"Oh, right. Then..."

Mumbling an excuse, Irina bolted from the bed and fled the room.

"...Young master, Miss Irina's gone."

Watching quietly, Kania spoke softly to Frey.

"I know you're awake. So get up and tell me what she did."

Frey never slept without Kania nearby, fearing "main heroines" might kill him in his sleep. She pulled out her notebook, ready to jot.

"...Young master?"

But no response.

"Ugh..."

"Young master, are you alright?"

As he groaned faintly, Kania approached worriedly, cast a waking spell, and asked.

"Nightmare? Seems like they're more frequent lately."

"......."

Still silent.

"...A trial, then."

Gazing seriously, Kania realized it was the "trial" he'd warned about. She approached quietly.

"Why is the world so desperate to devour you..."

With a stiff expression, she caressed his sleeping face, slipping her hand into his disheveled clothes.

Shaa...

Countless scars hidden by her black magic appeared. Gazing at them, she pulled ointment from her bosom and added softly.

"...When you're such a good person."

Finishing, she tenderly applied it to his wounds.

Frey woke as she nearly emptied the tin.

.

.

.

"S-scary..."

"But... I gotta do something..."

Meanwhile, Perloché had sneaked into the Sun God Church basement, where an ominous vibe lingered for three months.

"...Saintess, what are you doing there?"

"Eek!"

Of course, "sneaked" by her standards—she got caught by the Pope right before entering.

"Uh, well..."

"I told you—this is where we store and examine confiscated ominous items."

"I-I'm fine, though..."

As the Pope spoke sternly, Perloché mumbled timidly.

"...Even if you're fine, the items aren't. Your divine power's too strong—they could get damaged."

"Mmm..."

She eyed him distrustfully. Sighing, he unlocked the basement door.

"...This?"

"All confiscated items."

Assorted jewelry filled her view.

"If you're that curious, I can show you, but..."

"Yes, please..."

As she radiated divine power to enter, he warned.

"But if your power breaks anything... you'll take responsibility."

"Eep."

"...A grave responsibility."

His slightly angry tone made Perloché hang her head and trudge back to the church building.

"Tch, she's gotten more suspicious lately."

Glancing coldly, the Pope scanned around, entered muttering.

"Kids in the market have dwindled lately—what to do?"

A chilling voice echoed from the empty basement—save jewelry.

...Investigate their whereabouts.

"Yes, understood."

Bowing, he asked cautiously.

"Um... shouldn't we relocate?"

...What?

"This is the Sun God Cathedral—rituals could go wrong, and the saintess keeps sniffing around..."

Rumble!!

"H-heek!!"

As the basement shook violently mid-sentence, he prostrated, hands clasped in plea.

"S-sorry...! Mercy, please...!"

...Proceed as planned.

"Y-yes! I'll do my best!"

Grinning obsequiously, before him: filthy children, bound tightly with ropes, trembling—replacing the jewelry.