Who Exactly Are You?
Dark clouds brought evening earlier than usual. It might have been due to the swiftly advancing winter shortening the days. The Hendelbrook Monastery felt more foreboding than ever. Rain-soaked earth and underbrush surrounded the communal graveyard, lending an eerie chill to the air. After the downpour, not even a single gravedigger was in sight.
A single carriage arrived late in the evening. Hearing the wheels rattle over the unpaved road, a monk emerged from the monastery gate, lantern in hand.
"What brings you here?"
"It's young master Theobald. He's come seeking spiritual counsel."
The coachman answered the monk's question. The monk glanced inside the carriage. A boy sat there, exuding a noble air yet looking as if he'd been pulled from a river—drenched and disheveled. The monk nodded silently in greeting.
"Please, come in."
The monk flung open the monastery gate.
The name Theobald was a kind of code. Under the monk's guidance, Isaac descended into the monastery's underground chambers. There were small stone cells prepared for prayer. The layout resembled the monastery where the Apostles of the Old Faith had performed their rituals just a few months prior. The nauseating stench from that time came back to him, wrinkling Isaac's nose.
Fortunately, this place only carried the scent of damp stone, mold, and moss. There was no trace of the foul odor he remembered. Instead, the faint aroma of incense burned for religious rites permeated the underground air.
The chamber Isaac reached was relatively spacious, deep in the bowels of the earth. Unlike the prayer cells, it seemed designed for receiving guests: a round table carved from stone and weathered wooden chairs were arranged within.
"Meeting you here feels strangely fresh."
Marcel Reich occupied the center chair among the decayed wooden seats.
"I didn't expect you'd choose a place like this."
The message pigeon from Hans had contained two items. One was news of Marquis Dietrich's movements, relayed from Mayor Benders. Benders had eyes in every city's stables, inns, crossroads, and carriage rental spots, quickly uncovering the marquis's actions and passing them to Isaac.
The other was an anonymous note from Marcel Reich himself.
"A monastery housing devout monks is perfect for discreet conversations. The more faithful they are, the less they concern themselves with worldly affairs. They're as good as invisible."
"With the monastic knights posted outside?"
To Isaac's sharp ears, muffled footsteps and the clink of weapons against leather were crystal clear.
"Heh, sharp ears you have. I made sure there were no signs of life."
"I'm a bit sensitive that way. Especially lately."
Isaac grinned ferociously. The underground stone chamber of the monastery was indeed ideal for secret meetings—its narrow, labyrinthine passages ensured privacy. On the flip side, it meant no escape if surrounded. Marcel Reich intended to decide here whether to kill or spare him. Even if Isaac died, a properly disposed body would simply mean he had vanished.
"They're merely guardians of the monastery. Former swordsmen from the secular world who became monks."
Reich offered a leisurely smile, which soon faded.
"Since you've called me here, I take it the verification is complete."
"You're right. All three you named were spies, without fail."
Reich let out a groan.
"So you'll trust me now."
"That's precisely why I need to know more."
Shing—
The guiding monk had silently drawn a dagger, aiming it at Isaac.
"No need to hide it now that you know."
Four more monks entered. Dressed like the others, but with sword sheaths at their belts—the monastic knights Isaac had mentioned. They all drew their blades, encircling him.
These are the real deal.
Isaac recalled the mercenaries he'd faced earlier. Amateur skills bolstered by magic swords mimicking aura. Ten of those thugs couldn't take one of these men.
"Surrender your sword."
The dagger-wielding monk commanded. Isaac obediently placed his longsword—seized from a mercenary—on the stone round table.
"Don't try anything foolish. They've all been granted exceptional 'powers.'"
The Old Faith called magic "powers." For knights, that undoubtedly meant aura.
"It's odd hearing that from you, Dean. I thought mages had no religion."
"Age makes one reflective. Emptiness creeps in without it. But I'm a seeker of magic's truths, not a blind believer."
"Whether you have faith or not is your business. What do you want to learn from me?"
"So composed, even now."
Reich's eyebrow twitched. Isaac's reaction was abnormal. Facing drawn weapons in a sealed space, yet utterly calm. Far from a twelve-year-old's demeanor. He acted like someone who'd brushed death countless times.
"Then I'll ask: who exactly are you?"
Reich placed his interlaced hands on the table.
"That's a philosophical question."
Isaac replied.
"The Isaac I knew was a child suffering from his unique constitution just a year ago. How did that boy root out spies even I couldn't detect? How did he connect with the hidden lineage of House Plour, wiped from the map?"
"If you don't know, I'll say it again: I am Isaac von Goethe Vinfelt."
Isaac stated it matter-of-factly.
"Hah. Who knows? Maybe a monster wearing Isaac von Goethe's face. And perhaps that monster is plotting something."
"Even a monster couldn't mimic my unique constitution. You'd know—the flow of mana in my vessels."
"……."
Reich groaned. Isaac was right.
"Did I mention? I'm the academy dean, but also a royal advisor. In that role, I've seen many with bizarre abilities. Some mimic appearances, voices, even mana patterns. One lived decades behind such a mask before being exposed."
"If such power existed, why choose the heir of a frontier house like Goethe over better options?"
"Then answer: how did you identify the spies?"
"Not satisfied even after I named them?"
"Accurate info means nothing without a trusted source. It could be a trap."
"And if I refuse?"
"I'll kill you."
At Reich's word, the monastic knights leveled their swords at Isaac.
"The heir of Goethe?"
"Not anymore. You're Baron of Vinfelt now. A Goethe vassal."
"So much suspicion."
"Unnecessary doubt ruins everything, but necessary doubt saves lives."
"Wise words."
Isaac had anticipated this. The only way to identify spies thoroughly was to become one—or torture and coerce them into spilling. Reich wanted to know which method Isaac used, and how.
"Then kill me."
Isaac gave a curt response.
"See for yourself if that suspicion saves your life or dooms everything."
"……."
Reich studied those eyes carefully. Piercing blue, unyielding. No flicker of fear or hesitation. Eyes that seemed empty, devoid of any attachment to life. Eerie eyes.
"You're really going to play it this way?"
"I came to negotiate. Not to be threatened."
"Every time I see you... those eyes are pure Helmut."
Reich rubbed his temple, looking pained.
"Brothers. Leave us."
At his command, the monks sheathed their swords in unison and exited the chamber.
"So, what can you prove?"
"As I said before, war is coming soon."
"I've heard that. Your reckless stunts have dragged even Goethe into grave peril."
"I think you see beyond that, Dean. Maybe you already know."
It was an abrupt topic. His voice was slow, almost leisurely, like recounting an old tale. But the content was anything but comforting.
These were truths from Gutrurt, steward of House Botmer and right-hand man to Viscount Botmer.
A fabricated pretext for war. Cadet branches seizing northern hegemony. The council faction strengthening. Deeper imperial interference.
Reich was dumbfounded. From the mouth of a mere twelve-year-old. Tall and clever for his age, no doubt exceptional. But still just twelve. And from him came this implausible tale—one impossible to dismiss.
Isaac's words fit too perfectly.
"Do you even grasp what you're saying?"
Reich's voice trembled slightly. It was a future with nothing pleasant in it.
"My antics bought only a little time. A war between a punk like me and Botmer? It's like kids brawling with knives. Botmer will brush it off quickly. They won't want to be tripped up by a brat, nor waste full effort on an idiot who can't tell night from day."
"……."
Isaac knew his place precisely—not just aware, but leveraging it to his advantage.
"Come winter, Botmer will declare war on Goethe in earnest. It'll be when monsters swarm from beyond the White Snake Mountains—Goethe's weakest moment. Especially now, with little aid from vassals."
"Evidence Botmer plans that?"
"This is a magitech device seized from Botmer's steward's escorts."
Isaac pointed to the longsword on the table.
"Magitech?"
A magic stone was embedded in the pommel, but purely decorative—no magitech vibes.
Isaac picked up the sword. A faint blue shimmer gathered around the blade.
"This... impossible. Aura now? No, does that mean you've overcome your unique constitution? Wait, no—magic and aura are distinct realms. Distinct... "
Reich trailed off, his knowledge clashing with reality. He couldn't hide his shock.
Why mages can't become aura users, and vice versa: vessel qualities. Mages build rings inside their vessels—spiraling, expanding circles. Aura users have no rings; circuits radiate from the heart-vessel throughout the body, granting superhuman prowess.
Aura treats weapons as extensions of the self, imposing artificial mana circuits on inert blades. Those circuits, shaped by the user's imagery, grant sharpness to fell trees.
"You could wield this aura too, Dean."
"What do you mean?"
Reich struggled to process. His worldview shattered before his eyes.
"See for yourself."
Isaac offered the sword.
"Just infuse a bit of mana. Like pulling a lever or pedal on a machine."
Reich took it dubiously, then cautiously channeled mana.
Vmmm—
"……!?"
The blade hummed with mana vibration; the rune stone in the pommel glowed. Even in Reich's grip, aura flowed from the magic sword.
"How is this...?"
"Republic technology. While the kingdom's chosen scholars researched long-range communication, the Republic didn't idle. The emperor's buying them in bulk—to rule their lands and conquer more. The Empire calls these magic swords."
"Magic swords."
"Yes. Botmer will use them in the war against Goethe."
Clang!
The magic stone shattered. It had exhausted all mana within. It sounded like something inside Reich breaking too.