Chapter 8 – A Buried Past (4)

Professor Glatos Cuchulainn was one of the few mages at Farencia Academy capable of wielding Dark Magic beyond the fifth rank.

His position was tenuous. As a graduate of Alkaid Tower—the magical institution nearest to Heljeb—and a Dark Magician in the post-Great War era, he faced suspicion from both faculty and students alike.

Indeed, without the headmaster’s fervent endorsement, Glatos’s presence at Farencia would have been utterly inconceivable.

A knock sounded at his door. “Professor? It’s Liv Labre, second-year Magic Department student. May I come in?”

Paradoxically, Glatos’s position at the academy served as a testament to his credibility. Despite his affinity for the darker arts, he had been deemed trustworthy enough to shape young minds.

Even Liv, for all her reservations, wasn’t so narrow-minded as to condemn every Dark Magician lacking direct demonic ties.

“Enter,” came a weary voice from within.

Gingerly, Liv pushed open the door. She found herself in a laboratory festooned with taxidermied creatures and an array of animal bones.

Professor Glatos reclined in an armchair, engrossed in a tome. Liv recognized it immediately: “The Great War’s Conclusion and the Dawn of Minor Conflicts”—required reading for every freshman.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your studies, Professor.”

“Think nothing of it. You’re an excellent student, after all. Though I’ve noticed you’ve been distracted in my lectures recently, it’s no matter. I even asked my esteemed colleague Roilen for advice, but truly, I’m not concerned.”

Whether his nonchalance was genuine or a subtle expression of worry remained ambiguous.

Closing his book, Glatos rose—a towering figure easily surpassing two meters, his ebony robes amplifying his already imposing presence.

“It’s curious, isn’t it?” he mused.

“What is, sir?”

“This historical account. Don’t you find it… incomplete?”

Caught off-guard, Liv reflexively recited what she’d learned in lectures. “I’ve heard that when they rebuilt the Royal Library after it burned down, a lot of records were lost. Especially about the ‘Minor Conflicts’ that came after the Great War. The Holy Kingdom even demanded that information about their special forces sent to Heljeb be deleted as part of the peace negotiations.”

“No, no. That’s not what I mean at all. The Inquisitors you mentioned never even reached Heljeb’s heart—the very core of the demon realm. And yet, everything that happened there, especially the Demon King’s final moments, is based solely on Count Wiblett’s testimony.”

“But isn’t Count Wiblett the kingdom’s greatest swordsman? Surely he wouldn’t lie.”

“A person’s capacity for deceit isn’t always reflected in their soul’s color. But let’s get to the point. Why have you come to see me?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Liv produced a thin, paper-wrapped Lit-Vice test sheet from her pocket.

Professor Glatos’s interest was piqued, a soft exclamation escaping his lips. “Where did you get this? From the North, perhaps?”

“I… I can’t say where it’s from. But I want to have this test sheet ‘cleansed.’”

“By yourself?”

“Yes.”

Scrutinizing the blackened parchment against the light, Glatos turned to Liv with a grave expression. “It hasn’t been discolored for long. But I must warn you against looking into a test sheet tainted by demonic energy.”

“I understand the risks. But I need to see for myself.”

“…”

After a brief hesitation, he gestured towards his recently vacated armchair. “Sit down.”

As Liv complied, Glatos busied himself with an assortment of chemicals, combining and heating them as he explained the process.

“You were right to come to me. Looking into another person’s mind can have… unfortunate side effects when your magical wavelengths are too different.”

“You mean like hallucinations or seizures?”

“Exactly. Unless, of course, your Karma is as strong as the owner of this test sheet…”

“…”

“In which case, you wouldn’t have settled for a mere B+ in my class last year.”

“I… I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize. That was the highest grade in the class.”

With a flourish, he presented Liv with the completed concoction—a murky, unsettling brew.

As she accepted it, Glatos offered a final warning: “Normally, when you look into a Lit-Vice test sheet, you observe from a detached perspective within a limited space. But I’ve modified this solution. You’ll find yourself possessed by the person whose magical wavelength is closest to the sheet’s owner.”

“Anything else I should be careful about?”

“The Karma is very strong. Expect a lot of distortion and a lack of realism in what you see. When the cleansing is done, the experience will fade like a dream. I suggest keeping something to write with nearby.”

“I understand.”

Liv stared at the vial in her hand.

Drinking this would reveal the secrets of Louis, the mysterious shop owner.

If he turned out to be a demon… she knew, without a doubt, that she could never forgive him.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, then.”

Steeling herself, Liv brought the vial to her lips and drained its contents. As consciousness slipped away, she heard Professor Glatos’s parting words: “Pleasant dreams.”

***

When does a person’s affection for another start to fade?

Is it when they see something physically disgusting?

Or when they discover someone’s hypocrisy?

I imagine it’s similar to how readers feel when an author who disappeared for half a year to write a supposed side story finally returns.

“Welcome, one and all! Step right up to Farencia Academy’s premier establishment!”

I found myself constantly trying to figure out how to get rid of Adela, who seemed to have taken up permanent residence in my shop.

The irony wasn’t lost on me; a student herself, yet here she was, hawking wares to her fellow pupils like a seasoned merchant.

Since I’d steadfastly refused to teach her magic, she’d taken to selling staves similar to the ones I’d given to Professor Roilen.

“Check out this amazing magical staff! Want to buy one? My skills have improved so much since I got mine!”

“You, Adela? Really?”

“Of course!”

A gullible freshman, doubt etched across their features, tentatively bought a staff.

If such a tool could actually improve Adela’s abilities—she who could accidentally blow up an entire spell while trying to cast a simple Fireball—it would certainly be worth the hype.

I couldn’t deny the uptick in sales.

A vivacious beauty like her, flitting about the store with boundless energy, was bound to draw customers.

As classes resumed and the crowds dispersed, she’d invariably slink over, casting furtive glances around.

Whether it was naivety or cunning, she was as sly as a fox.

“Oh, wise teacher~” she cooed. “Please teach me magic.”

“As I’ve said countless times, I don’t know how.”

“Oh, come on. That thing you did—the big boom, then the whoosh, ending with a massive kaboom! That’s what I want to learn!”

“Even if I taught you, you couldn’t do it.”

“But Professor Vincent, who teaches elemental magic basics, says all magic follows one rule. He says if you master the ultimate magic, you can use any kind!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. This “ultimate magic” she spoke of was something only someone like Terra Ernisten could legitimately claim to know.

No doubt Vincent was trying to inspire ambition in these young mages.

My goal, however, remained the same: to discourage Adela’s persistent attention.

When does a person’s affection for another really start to wane? From my own youthful experiences, two scenarios stood out clearly.

The first: dealing with a drunk person. The second: listening to someone drone on about a past you can’t relate to.

I poured myself a generous measure of ale from a nearby barrel. Then, I launched into a mind-numbingly boring tale.

“Back in my day, we couldn’t even dream of being taught magic.”

“And when exactly was this ancient time of yours?”

“During the Great War, of course. There were no academies like this. Mages fresh from their towers, barely knowing the basics, were thrown onto bloody battlefields. You either learned fast or died.”

“Wow! And you, teacher? Did you go through that?”

Adela’s eyes sparkled with fascination, her knees drawn up as she hung on my every word.

Why is she finding this so interesting? Is this actually working? I wondered, but continued nonetheless.

The alcohol had loosened my tongue a bit. Besides, given the sheer number of mercenaries and knights who’d fought in the Great War, she was unlikely to doubt me unless I got into specifics about the hero’s party.

“Indeed I did. But in my case, I didn’t really learn magic. My comrades just… enabled me to use it.”

“What do you mean?”

In response to her question, I pulled out a nearby magic scroll.

It was a first-rank electric magic scroll—Shock—that I’d gotten from Kano’s workshop.

“See this scroll? It activates its magic when you channel Mana into it. My body works kind of like this paper.”

“I’ve never heard of anything like that in class.”

“You wouldn’t learn about it here.”

In all likelihood, such techniques weren’t taught in any magic school.

What I was describing was closer to shamanism than traditional magic.

A hero’s body went far beyond normal human limits.

In the demon realm, raw power alone wasn’t enough. So Terra had twelve magic formulas tattooed all over my body, with Nova’s help.

I could only use three at once, but they were pretty effective. And importantly, they left no visible marks.

“Your friends must have been amazing,” Adela said, her eyes wide.

Amazing friends? That was an understatement.

Though we’re scattered now, we were once an unstoppable force on the battlefield.

Our overwhelming power crushed hordes of demons that filled the sky.

Even as we cleaned the blood from our swords, the grateful thanks of those we’d saved gave us moments of bittersweet relief.

“They were beyond compare,” I said, lost in memory. “Necromancers of Baragal? The Four Great Evils? They were nothing to us. I won’t say we single-handedly led humanity to victory, but we certainly played our part.”

“But my family says the northern territories are still really dangerous…”

“Ah, well, they downplay the demons’ strength to keep you on your toes. Once you’ve fought some real battles during your field training, you’ll understand what I mean.”

Watching Adela’s naive reactions, I found myself sympathizing, just a little, with the challenges Professor Vincent must face.

I continued regaling her with tales of wartime exploits and minor adventures, sounding more like a veteran giving a lecture than a shopkeeper.

Though this impromptu storytelling session was far from my original plan, my alcohol-muddled mind couldn’t seem to get back on track.

Whether she chose to come back tomorrow or never return didn’t really matter at this point.

As I drained the last drops from my cup, I found myself awash in a sea of bittersweet memories.

***

The world shimmered, as though obscured by a gossamer veil.

Deafened and nearly blind, nothing pierced the haze with clarity.

My palms pressed against sodden earth, each labored breath a struggle in the stifling air.

Through distorted vision, I beheld a landscape of cracked, crimson soil beneath a sky of impenetrable darkness.

A voice cut through the fog: “Karma erosion has started. I’m okay because of my unique magic, but without Eris’s healing, we’re finished.”

Another voice, tense with worry: “Damn it, if there’s enough magical contamination to affect our bodies, we must be near the Demon King’s castle. How long have they been leading us on?”

“Three days, I’d guess. They must have put trackers on us when we escaped from Melac.”

“We need to decide quickly. If we run west now, we might break through their encirclement.”

Several hushed whispers followed, barely audible. After a moment of tense silence, Liv heard a familiar voice:

“No. We keep going.”

“What?”

“If we stop now, more people will die. The Katsen River Valley is already a sea of blood after the Holy Knights were wiped out. Pushing forward is our best option.”

“But with all this Karma build-up, we can’t use White Magic properly. We should have brought more holy water.”

“I have a solution for that. I’ll take on all of your Karma.”

“Are you insane!?”

Liv realized she was experiencing Louis’s memories. What on earth was he suggesting?

“You’ll die at this rate! You’re already using three unique magic artifacts!”

“You can make another one right now, can’t you? Terra, you’re the kingdom’s greatest magician.”

“Louis!!!”

After a brief scuffle, silence fell.

The sound of a heavy sword being dragged across stone echoed ominously.

“This is going to hurt.”

“When doesn’t it? Just get on with it. This damn body of mine can barely handle drawing new lines as it is.”

“Tell me when you’re ready… and we’ll start.”

“I’m all set, but wait a second.”

Suddenly, Liv sensed someone approaching her.

As something warm brushed against her eyes, the scene before her snapped into focus with startling clarity.

“Why are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“H-hic… sob!”

“Who made our saint cry? Confess now, or else.”

“That would be you, Louis. Look at yourself.”

The setting resolved into a dark, cavernous space.

Dirty bandages, rotting flesh, and an impossible amount of blood mixed with the dirt floor.

It seemed unbelievable that all this damage could be inflicted on one person.

“L-Louis… sob! Damn it…”

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t worry, this won’t kill me. But I’ve got to say, those Demon Kings pack quite a punch. I haven’t been able to see for days. The bleeding just won’t stop.”

What flowed from his eye sockets wasn’t tears, but a steady stream of blood.

Though she called him by the same name as the shop owner, the blood-soaked figure before her bore no resemblance to the man she knew.

Amidst all the confusion, one thing became absolutely clear.

“But you’re not hurt, are you, Eris?”

The hand that moved to wipe away her tears belonged not to a hardened warrior, but to a boy barely into his teens.