Chapter 7 – A Buried Past (3)

I rose to my feet.

Before the locked door stood a golden-haired young woman, a familiar bird perched upon her shoulder. Her green cape marked her as a first-year student.

While most novice mages wielded staves or orbs, her hands were conspicuously empty. No doubt she relied on her exotic familiar instead. A creature imbued with the essence of the vast Labier Mountains—that great range bordering the demon realm—would serve as more than adequate magical focus.

This must be Erzebet Brunhard, I thought. Her radiant appearance perfectly complements her golden hair.

“I apologize, but we’re closed for the day,” I said.

“I’ve come to see you, not to shop. What’s your name?” she asked.

“Louis.”

“Louis… Curious. Your name isn’t in the staff registry. And your family name?”

“What use has a commoner for such things? Just Louis will do.”

Tap, tap. The tiny bird rapped its beak against the glass.

“Louis, open this door,” she commanded.

“As I said, we’re closed. Perhaps another time.”

“It would be trivial for me to force my way in.”

“By all means, Your Highness, if you think that’s wise.”

Hand on my heart, I felt not a shred of fear towards the royal family. Rather, it was the princess’s brazen attempt to violate my modest sanctuary that deserved censure. I’d paid my taxes faithfully, after all. What more did she want?

Arms crossed, Erzebet pressed on with unwavering conviction. “If you know my station, no further explanation is needed. This shop falls within the ‘Royal Academy of Magic, Farencia.’ Surely you understand whose domain you’re on now?”

Her words made my brow furrow deeply.

While the Crown’s motivations for planting its flag on land already governed by a marquis eluded me, Her Highness had overlooked a crucial detail.

“Begging your pardon, but these premises don’t fall under academy jurisdiction.”

“Excuse me?”

“This land is mine. Bought from the former Viscount of Ruhillen with every coin to my name!”

“Pii! Pii! Pii!” The bird screeched in contrast to the princess’s dumbfounded expression.

The heart of this pentagonal plot was, indeed, not royal property.

Though I’d harbored no ill intent in its acquisition, the fact remained: she had no legal grounds to evict me, through academic rules or royal decree.

“If you doubt me, Your Highness, check the records at the marquis’s keep. This property is mine, in name and deed.”

“How… Why…?”

“The ‘why’ is simple: I didn’t sell. Now, unless you want me to call the guards, I suggest you leave.”

With a dismissive wave, I urged her retreat. At last, Erzebet’s advance halted, though her piercing golden gaze remained anything but friendly.

“People say we’re in an era of peace since the Demon King’s fall, but the rot of that time hasn’t been fully rooted out.”

“…”

“Many dark mages who sided with demonkind during the Great War are still unaccounted for.”

“And based on that flimsy excuse, you suspect me?”

“Pii—!!”

One of these days, I swear I’ll make a meal of that damned bird.

“I’ll withdraw… for now. But remember this.”

“Yes?”

Erzebet took a step back, her words heavy with meaning. “As Terra Ernisten foretold when Merak Tower fell, danger still lurks in our kingdom. As Princess of Pennheim, I won’t stand idle in the face of it.”

***

In the moonlit garden, its silvery radiance veiled by passing clouds, Liv drew a steadying breath. She stood behind the store, amidst fallen leaves and trash left by careless professors.

The princess’s unexpected visit and confrontation with Louis had revealed her motivations.

A threat to the kingdom. Demon remnants. Dark mages.

And burned into Liv’s mind, the image of that blackened Lit-Vice exam paper refused to fade.

Her hand, white-knuckled around her staff, trembled. Her feet moved on their own.

Before she knew it, she stood face-to-face with Louis. He’d turned the lights back on after Erzebet left and was tidying up.

“Baroness Greenwood?”

His puzzled expression showed no hint of malice. On a nearby shelf, about waist-high, sat an array of newly acquired staves.

Identical to her own—crafted from the same metallurgical wood.

Louis’s gaze fell on the implement in her grasp.

“Are you here to exchange your staff? Yours does look a bit short.”

“…”

“We’re closed, but if you need something, I could make an exception… Baroness?”

“Sir.” Liv’s voice was tense.

If he truly was a dark mage, a demon’s puppet, or some war criminal who’d fought against humanity in the Great War, Liv knew she could never forgive him.

Her father had fallen to demonic claws in that very conflict.

The staff he’d left her inched skyward.

“Who… what are you, really?”

“What’s this about? Please, lower your staff. It’s dangerous.”

“Like Her Highness said… are you a dark mage?”

Louis sighed. “How quickly you believe baseless accusations. I assure you, I’m nothing of the sort.”

Though the words had come from royal lips, Liv knew her suspicions were a leap. Still, she felt compelled to uncover the truth.

If he really was a dark mage or demon sympathizer, evidence of black Magic would surely appear.

As luck would have it, the basement—usually used for storage—stood open.

“What’s down there?”

“Just a storeroom.”

“Then you won’t mind if I look?”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

In that moment, Liv detected the first hint of genuine suspicion in Louis’s manner.

His efforts to hide something were painfully obvious.

Should I call the guards?

But even the princess couldn’t force her way in. More than that, Liv hated the idea of letting others deal with those responsible for her father’s death.

“Move aside. I need to see what you’re hiding.”

“I’ve made myself clear: you can’t go in.”

“Whatever secrets you’re keeping, reveal them! Or else—”

“Liv.”

Woosh!

Louis’s hand closed around her staff.

In that instant, paralyzing dread enveloped Liv, rooting her to the spot.

A void yawned in her chest, as if her very essence had been hollowed out.

It took only a moment to realize: her Mana had vanished.

“Liv, let me be clear. I have nothing to do with demons. I’d rather die than trade pleasantries with those vile dark mages. Yes, I wielded a sword in my youth—but who didn’t take up arms to survive that hellish war?”

“H-hic…” Liv choked back a sob.

“It’s late. You should rest. This staff… it means a lot to you, doesn’t it? I’ll keep it safe inside.”

His unexpectedly gentle touch left no room for refusal.

Shaking and fighting tears, Liv found herself inexorably guided out of the store.

“Let’s forget tonight ever happened. You’re welcome to come back for bread as always. Goodnight, Baroness.”

And so Liv left, her mission unfulfilled. As she stared at the now-dark storefront, steely resolve took root within her. Fists clenched, she turned and headed for the dormitories.

***

“Gods, finally some peace.”

This semester has taken a decidedly strange turn.

Not only am I dealing with a scatterbrained freshman stealing bread despite her presumably full pockets, but now a princess tries to barge into my humble home like she owns the place.

Even Baroness Liv, once unfailingly polite, saw fit to accuse me of dark Magic and point her staff at me.

And all this in just one month.

Maybe I should push for a ‘store blacklist’ in the academy rules…

While denying access to campus facilities goes against fairness, perhaps I could persuade the headmaster to make an exception.

Adela and Erzebet would definitely top that list. Even Ansen, still unconscious in the infirmary, deserves a spot.

As for Baroness Liv… that needs more thought.

If I’d known what headaches awaited me, I’d have sold this place long ago.

Part of me wanted to liquidate everything and run.

Truth be told, I’d received numerous offers—from parties outside the royal family—to buy this land.

Given how Farencia had exploded from rural backwater to bustling city after the academy’s founding, such offers were far from small.

Yet, a compelling reason kept me here, anchoring me despite the countless troubles.

Click!

After making sure Baroness Liv had left, I went down to the basement—ostensibly to check inventory.

Under the blue glow of magical stones, crates and supplies stood neatly arranged.

And there, down the right passage, a small door—

“Damn. I left it open.”

Crossing the threshold, I found myself before a waist-high, ashen monument.

Carefully, I began cleaning it with a cloth.

As I worked, my mind raced with thoughts of the two women who’d cast such suspicion on me.

Yet as long as this stone stood here, I couldn’t—wouldn’t—abandon the academy. No, my very home.

Kneeling before the monument, I closed my eyes in solemn prayer.

I begged whatever powers might listen that no one would again violate the sanctity of this, my most treasured refuge.