Transformation
With a crackling burst of light that illuminated the surroundings, Irina and Frey arrived in a dense forest.
"Hah...!"
Gasping for breath due to the teleportation's aftereffects, Irina quickly scanned the area with sharp eyes.
"W-Where... is this?"
She warily surveyed the strangely familiar yet unfamiliar place for a while before quietly looking down at her chest.
"D-Did he die?"
In her arms, Frey lay motionless, clinging tightly to her. Frowning slightly as she peered at him, Irina carefully laid him on the ground and pressed her ear to his chest.
"...He's alive, at least."
Though he looked no different from a corpse, Frey's heart was indeed beating—faintly, but steadily. Relieved, Irina lifted her ear from his chest with a sigh, then suddenly glanced at his exposed chest, torn open during his capture by the undead.
"Hmm..."
Hesitating as she stared, Irina glanced at his face before cautiously removing his shirt, muttering to herself.
"Something's definitely off."
Aside from the burns from his mana circuits igniting and the fresh wounds from the undead, his body was surprisingly clean. Yet, a dark aura seemed to emanate from every corner of his upper body.
Shoooo...
Observing the phenomenon quietly for a moment, Irina began stroking Frey's bare skin with her hand. Then, in places without visible wounds, a rough texture—just like last time—transmitted to her palm.
Feeling that sensation, she continued caressing his body, her eyes suddenly widening.
"T-This is...?"
The sparkling mana Frey had emitted during the intense battle was mixing with the dark aura on his body and dissipating, gradually revealing his true condition.
"Oh my god..."
Once fully exposed, his state was shocking. His shoulders were bruised purple, his body covered in stab and slash scars, some reopened and bleeding. These wounds were scattered evenly across his body.
Most are from monsters or demonic beasts... and...
As the continent's top battle mage, Irina could tell at a glance they were from monsters and beasts in the Ashen Forest. Upon closer inspection, she confirmed it.
From that moment, memories flooded her: Rian—no, Frey—taking blows meant for her, pushing himself to the limit. Kneeling, she murmured with a troubled expression.
"Why... why the hell did you do that?"
But the unconscious Frey offered no answer.
Finally snapping out of it, Irina sighed deeply, lifted him again, and began walking to explore this unknown space. She paused, staring at the crushed grass where they'd appeared.
What the hell happened here?
The scroll she'd bought was definitely an "offensive scroll." But as a lifelong poor girl, even pooling all her money wasn't enough for a legitimate one, so she'd bought an "illegal scroll" from the Back Alley.
Of course, the Back Alley was notorious for scroll scams, but Irina trusted herself. A genius mage destined to become the Grand Mage, her magical knowledge remained even without mana. Spotting fakes was child's play.
She'd scoured Back Alley magic scroll shops from morning till evening, finally buying one from a shabby street vendor—the only real one left. The owner, an old man with a bandage on his face and a knowing smile, had handed it over. It was definitely a working offensive scroll.
So why had an offensive scroll turned into a teleport scroll? Had she messed up?
Come to think of it... it was like that last time too...
Shaking her head, Irina resumed walking. The suspicious scroll, shady owner, and links to past events mattered, but first, she needed to identify this place.
"Huh?"
Emerging from the dense trees with Frey in her arms, Irina froze at the sight before her.
"This is... no way...?"
In her view stood the dilapidated Secret Base she and Frey had built as kids.
"Haa..."
Staring at Frey groaning on the creaky bed in the Secret Base, Irina frowned at the setting sun.
"This is a pain in the ass."
This was the forest near Starlight Duke's Mansion, filled with childhood memories—and where she'd scarred her face saving Frey from wolves. Realizing it, she'd puzzled over why the scroll sent them here but quickly carried him down the mountain.
Familiar with the woods from childhood, escaping was easy. After descending, she reached the street—but froze at the imperial newspaper littering the ground.
"W-What..."
The paper named the Frey in her arms as the prime suspect in the "Holy Undead Knight Incident," but cleared due to being spotted resting. Frozen, she thought,
Kania or Serena must've covered for him.
Guessing one of them created an alibi, Irina read on.
"Ugh."
Politics she hated followed, so she crumpled it, gazing at Frey thoughtfully.
Can't let him be seen now.
She didn't understand his motives, but he'd saved countless kids and Perloché today. Deciding to hide him, she returned to the familiar Secret Base.
"Ughhh..."
As the sun set, Frey groaned. Approaching cautiously, Irina muttered,
"Gotta treat this..."
Confirming his worsening wounds, she rummaged through her bag.
"Haa."
Only one healing potion. Sighing, she cursed her poverty.
"Ugh..."
"Drink."
Tilting the potion into his mouth, Frey's expression eased—slightly.
Not enough...
Too little for his state. As pain returned, Irina slung her bag and headed out.
"Gotta find herbs."
"Frey, wake up."
"Haa... ha..."
Knowing the mountain well, Irina gathered potent herbs quickly—but hit a snag.
"Damn, can't feed him herbs like this."
Potions were liquid, but herbs required chewing while conscious. Forcing them risked choking; mincing wouldn't work without mastication. Stuck, she sat on the bed, staring at his sweat-drenched face.
"What the hell are you thinking?"
Months ago, she'd kill to murder him. Now he groaned before her. A tiny mana shot to his heart, a choke—or just leaving him—would end it. No one would blame her. He was the empire's top scumbag, criminal, future destroyer.
But...
"Haven't uncovered the truth yet."
So close to his secret—evil front, good back—she couldn't quit. Resolved, she chewed the herbs herself.
"Hmph..."
Hesitating, she kissed him, pushing the masticated herbs into his mouth.
"Hmph..."
Repeating until all herbs were fed, Irina wiped her mouth and checked. His color improved; bleeding stopped.
This effective?
Turning to fetch more, she heard,
"Cough! Cough!!"
"What?!"
Frey vomited blood, convulsing. Rushing over, Irina checked frantically.
"I-Irina...?"
"...!"
Meeting his narrowed eyes, she froze in panic.
"Where... is this...?"
"Uh, well, you see..."
His fading voice trailed as she stammered. Glancing around, he murmured,
"What... another dream?"
Recognizing the place, he sighed hollowly.
"Lately, after fights... always these dreams. Wonder what memory this time..."
"You... know where this is?"
Wanting him to rest silently, she asked anyway.
"Of course... our Secret Base..."
"You remembered?"
"We caught fish here... dug traps... played in water... all memories now..."
His nostalgic face twisted as he coughed blood again.
"But why... are you grown up? Where's the cat doll?"
"What?"
"And... why so sleepy in a dream..."
Trailing off, he closed his eyes, unconscious again.
"Haa..."
Seeing child Frey—pure, kind, reminiscing—Irina resolved, face set.
"This won't do."
Pausing en route for more herbs, she added,
"Tomorrow, I'll uncover everything."
"Miss Irina, where have you been? Coming back so late?"
"...Sorry."
Late night at Sunrise Academy's gate, Irina bowed to the guard and entered quietly.
Frey... he'll be fine.
The Secret Base had her child-placed intrusion-proof spell; only they could enter. Five more herb doses had him recovering—he'd wake by morning.
Time to seize the chance. Heading to the Noble Dormitory briskly,
"Wait, commoners can't enter the—"
"You know."
"Ah..."
Blocked by a maid, Irina glared coldly. Knowing the rumors, the maid averted eyes and stepped aside.
Doesn't Frey care about rumors?
Heading to his room, she pondered.
His power could've squashed them.
Scandals were common, but Frey was public enemy. Despite clearance, many still suspected him.
Deliberately acting villainous to spread rumors? But why?
At his door, she knocked softly.
"It's Irina. Here for service."
Silence.
"Please open. You said death curse if no service by tonight."
Still nothing. Sighing, she slumped in the hall, sobbing loudly.
"What... what's wrong?"
The head maid rushed over, scolding.
"Wake a noble and we're both dead!"
"B-But...! No service for Frey by tonight and I'm dead!"
Terrified, Irina clung to her legs, pleading.
"P-Please! Head maid...! I don't wanna die! Survived this hell... can't die over service... unfair!"
"Haa..."
Knowing academy gossip—and Irina's heroism in past invasions—the maid wavered.
Irina begged harder, knowing her savior status.
"H-Help... please... wanna live. Not like this..."
"I'll check."
"Y-Yes?"
Frisking her, the maid nodded.
"No weapons."
"O-Obviously! If I did—"
"Go in. Special for mana exhaustion."
Handing a key, she whispered,
"Don't ruin your life killing a dead woman walking."
Vanishing into shadows, Irina swallowed hard, unlocked, and entered.
"Hey, wake up."
Cold to the bed's occupant, she shook him when no response.
"Don't care who, wake up. I want the truth now."
"Mm..."
"Wake up! Now!!"
No reaction.
"Damn, what? A doll?"
Planning to trade info for truth, Irina panicked at the stillness.
Poke poke
"Weird, feels like real skin... even heartbeat."
Poking the fake Frey, pressing his stomach accidentally—
"Nyaaah!"
"What?! Cat doll?"
Startled back, she grabbed the bedside cat doll, tilting her head.
"Nyaa...!"
"Poking fake Frey makes this scream?"
Pressing more elicited cries. Noticing the doll's puffed mouth,
"Aha... got it..."
Prying it open, she smirked.
"...This could work."
"Ugh..."
Morning came; unconscious Frey stirred, opening his eyes.
"Young master, awake?"
"K-Kania?"
Kania bowed before him. Staring blankly, Frey grinned.
"You saved me?"
"Yes, young master."
"Haa... thank god... thought I was done for."
Relieved, he thanked her profusely. Kania watched silently, thinking,
...Perfect, he bought it.
In her pocket: an empty vial.