You Will Regret This Lecture

The lecture time was drawing near nine o'clock. Assuming anyone who came up to the rooftop at this hour would naturally be one of the professors, I quietly lit a cigarette...

But then Lizzy's familiar voice rang out sharply and clearly, leaving me considerably flustered.

Moreover, though she hadn't mentioned my name directly, it was an unmistakable flood of emotion aimed squarely at me.

'...'

Listening to her, I didn't feel particularly displeased.

I thought it was only natural for Lizzy to act that way.

That said, independently of that, I turned my head and carefully scanned the surroundings to check if anyone else was nearby.

'None...'

There was no one on the rooftop of the opposite B Lecture Hall either.

Of course, knowing that, Lizzy could shout so boldly.

'A bit...'

Regrettable.

Because if a third party had overheard Lizzy's cries, rumors would surely have spread like wildfire through the academy.

'Then...'

I'd have a pretext to declare war on the Claudia family territory.

If a third party could read my mind right now, they'd undoubtedly see me as the lowest scum of the earth.

'No, I am scum, but...'

What could I do?

Of course, I wasn't without guilt.

In a state where the modern, morally upright soul of Lee Seojin was intertwined with mine, it would be abnormal not to feel guilt over breaking the ankle of a 12-year-old girl.

But if a means to control the variable of death was right in front of me, how many people could turn it away?

Even if I advanced to Apollyon rank and made contact with the monstrosities dwelling on the third layer of the Netherworld—capable of healing physical defects or wounds—it was questionable whether this tangled mess of threads would unravel.

It wasn't something that could end with a simple apology.

If it were, I would have done it long ago.

I clearly remembered the cold response when I had tentatively broached the subject ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠last time.

The only misunderstanding in this fateful enmity was the single element of severe OCD... but with eight years having passed, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even if she accepted that it was a mental illness, she wouldn't forgive or understand.

Not unless one side completely submitted or broke.

An inescapable destiny that couldn't end otherwise.

'No wonder...'

I wasn't preparing to intervene in this imperial throne usurpation for nothing.

"Ah..."

The wind suddenly shifted direction.

Seeing the cigarette smoke I'd exhaled veer sharply toward Lizzy, any effort to stay put quietly went out the window. I tossed the cigarette to the ground, crushed it underfoot, and opened my mouth.

"Lizzy."

I didn't show myself.

With only her and me on this rooftop, it would undoubtedly trigger her trauma and reduce her to that state from before.

'Won't she go down...'

But no matter how long I waited, no sound came of Lizzy wheeling her chair away.

I'd called her name precisely to make her descend first, staying put here myself.

"..."

Impatient, I poked my head out slightly, only to see Lizzy rooted to the spot like a petrified statue, steadfastly holding her ground.

At this rate, I wouldn't be able to give my lecture on time, so I forcibly seized control of the corpse holding her wheelchair and slowly pushed it toward the railing.

With countless people still milling about below, if Lizzy took that in, she could escape the prelude to a trauma-induced breakdown.

* * * * *

Screech.

Screech.

"Ah..."

At some point—too suddenly to pinpoint—control of the corpse was wrested away, forcing the wheelchair toward the railing.

Was he planning to throw her off to her death just like this?

With even a moment's thought, she could realize Ferzen wouldn't take such a reckless gamble.

But Lizzy in her current state had no spare capacity for rational thought.

"N-no, d-don't...!"

Thus, in a fit of panic, she unbuckled the belt around her waist and flopped pitifully to the ground, crawling away on her belly toward the opposite side.

'This is maddening...'

Watching this, Ferzen sighed at how he'd unintentionally cornered her further, contrary to his intent, and moved the corpse.

Since things had come to this, it might be better to pick her up and make her look down from the railing.

'...!'

But the instant he tried to lift the fiercely resisting Lizzy using the corpse, the connection severed.

'What?'

This could only mean one thing: the corpse's control had been snatched back.

'...'

Of course, the mana Ferzen had expended to hijack Lizzy's servant corpse was minimal.

In contrast, she had spent a long time dominating that corpse, building proficiency and comprehension, so reclaiming it by brute-forcing mana wasn't impossible—but the problem was...

'I can't regain control.'

Any corpse received a bloodline affinity bonus for those of the same lineage.

Combined with Ferzen's superior qualitative mana as an Euclid rank—higher than hers—pouring in mana raw should have let him wrest control no matter how she struggled.

'Is that how it is...'

A high figure, but this was an ordinary corpse.

Comprehension and proficiency merely improved mana conductivity.

Even if they approached zero, one could still hit the 90% implementation cap.

Just extremely inefficiently.

And Ferzen's mana had more than enough quantity and quality for an ordinary corpse...

Yet hijacking control was impossible.

'Once a certain implementation rate is reached, control can't be stolen by another. Is this your black magic talent, Lizzy...'

Still merely Keter rank, so not much to write home about yet—but as her rank rose...

In battles between black mages of equal standing, at least, this talent would grant overwhelming superiority.

"..."

Until a pretext arose, he'd at least aimed to keep things from worsening, maintaining the status quo.

There was truth to the saying that staying put got you through the middle.

But now, realizing how naive that notion had been, Ferzen stepped out from the corner with heavy footfalls.

'The trauma she holds toward me...'

At the very least, it must not be overcome.

* * * * *

Lizzy trembled violently, struggling to rise from her pathetic sprawl on the ground.

Thud.

But the moment Ferzen halted before her, peering down with his signature red eyes...

"H-hic, ah..."

Lizzy's mind went blank as a sheet of white paper.

Thump!

The corpse, which had naturally regained control, collapsed like a puppet with cut strings as the link severed.

Swish.

Ferzen extended both hands toward her, effortlessly scooping up her slight frame.

Resistance? Rebellion? The instant her trauma flared, Lizzy's body forgot such ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠things entirely, submitting before Ferzen.

The ugly, horrific scars he'd etched into her past held that much mental dominance.

"I-I'm s-sorry... I w-was wrong..."

"..."

"F-forgive me... I'm s-sorry..."

"..."

Gripping Ferzen's clothes as he silently walked toward the rooftop railing, Lizzy repeated her apologies like a parrot—though she had done nothing wrong.

"Lizzy Paul Liana Claudia."

Arriving at the railing—the fence meant to prevent falls—Ferzen set her down, gripped her slender waist firmly, and turned her body forward.

"Hic...!"

"Do you see the countless people milling about below? There's only you and me here, but no need to fear that fact."

With a large hand, he seized her lowered chin, forcing her head up to gaze down at the rooftop below.

But Lizzy's trembling wouldn't subside.

Drip.

Instead, frigid teardrops trailed endlessly over the back of Ferzen's hand holding her jaw.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

In response, Ferzen clumsily wiped the tears from her eyes, whispering in a low voice.

"...Calm down and open your eyes to look below. Or do you intend to piss yourself in front of me again, like that time?"

His hot breath tickled her ear up close, and only then did Lizzy slowly open her eyes, etching the throng of people below into her pupils.

"What a high-maintenance child."

The process had been arduous, but the result was as Ferzen intended.

Lizzy gradually regained her composure.

And judging solely by this outcome, anyone inferring his intent would unanimously call it kindness...

But in truth, it was vicious torment—donning the mask of consideration to deliberately induce a trauma flare-up, ensuring she never forgot.

Kindness in abuse, plain and simple.

"P-please... l-let go..."

"Very well."

Regaining her senses, Lizzy gripped Ferzen's thick forearm around her waist, murmuring softly in a feeble voice.

Ferzen complied without resistance, supporting her to the wheelchair halted midway and seating her.

"Your subjectless condemnation was a clever judgment in its own right."

"..."

"You narrowly escaped disciplinary action."

Finishing his piece, Ferzen straightened from his inclined posture, even kindly adjusting her disheveled clothes.

"Five minutes to nine... Shall we head down?"

Checking the remaining time, Ferzen turned and walked ahead indifferently.

Lizzy stared at his back, clenching her delicate fist tightly, barely parting her lips to utter one sentence.

"This lecture..."

"..."

"You'll regret it."

"Regret, you say..."

Mulling her words, Ferzen halted, approached, and bowed his head before her.

He gently stroked her cheek and throat, then gripped the nape of her neck, pulling her close.

Flinch!

Startled, Lizzy thrust out both hands to push him away, but her meager strength couldn't create distance.

"Do the ranch owners or shepherds fear their livestock every time it fattens?"

"..."

"Your brother has only just barely escaped that pen. As for you, still inside, you're merely plump prey ripe for devouring."

Arrogant musing, to the extreme...

Yet Lizzy could offer no retort.

"So cease your pointless thoughts... and stay meekly in the pen. Weren't the sheep always devoured by wolves precisely those fools who wandered out on their own?"

"..."

"Escaping the pen isn't pleasant. Even children who throw tantrums to grow up end up yearning for their youth once they do."

With that, Ferzen withdrew his hand from her nape and descended the rooftop first.

Left alone, Lizzy commanded her corpse to slowly push the wheelchair, biting her lip hard.

* * * * *

'No... when is he coming?'

Alphonse, the administrative assistant, stamped his feet anxiously, sighing deeply.

To keep such dignitaries waiting so casually—now he truly understood the Brutein bloodline.

Bang!

And just as impatience burned within—precisely at nine o'clock—the auditorium doors swung open.

A tall man in a impeccably tailored black suit strode in steadily.

The same style of attire as always...

Yet it felt like a standard unto itself, so no one raised objection.

Clack.

Ferzen ascended the podium, tapped his shoe heels twice on the floor, rousing the frozen Alphonse to receive the attendance roster.

"Everyone's here except one..."

"Yes. I've marked the young lady of House Rosenberg as absent due to illness."

"Good. Then, as discussed, handle the empty seat accordingly."

"Really?"

"Don't make me repeat myself. I dislike it."

"Understood..."

Bowing, Alphonse retreated with the doll from behind the podium, placing one on each empty seat in turn.

Each time laughter erupted from onlookers at the sight, Alphonse flushed crimson—but with Ferzen's orders, he had no choice.

Glancing at him briefly, Ferzen surveyed the external guests seated at the rear.

Positions, houses, personal renown—all varied, but the common thread: all were mages.

Naturally, since this lecture strictly imparted magical knowledge, no civilians or Aura Knights could attend.

Not even royalty was exempt.

The reason? Solely the mana-bound oath.

Mages walking the path of magic could swear three oaths in their lifetime—a provision ripe for abuse, as is known.

Thus, at age four, by national law, they enacted these three clauses:

Fail to do so, and a mage who bungled their oaths might live worse than a dog.

Thanks to this, even in lecture format, the knowledge wouldn't leak absurdly.

'She's here...'

As Alphonse finished placing the dolls and exited the auditorium, Lizzy entered behind him. Ferzen slowly raised his right hand.

"Silence..."

He began, addressing the front-row students first...

"...please."

Then shifting his gaze to the dignitaries at the back.

"..."

"Then, let the lecture begin."