20 - The Victim of the Academy

Snap! In the empty classroom, Melana was trembling, biting her nails. "I've been caught." Anxiety and fear had stolen Melana's ability to make rational decisions. Being discovered by Johan was purely bad luck. She had crossed paths with him before the emotional upheaval of revealing her deepest secrets during a counseling session had subsided, and she failed to keep her composure. "Surrender? Surrender myself? And they'll show leniency?" Melana knew better. Nothing had happened yet. According to Johan, Lobelia would take her circumstances into account and show understanding. She still had a chance for redemption. "Don't make me laugh." Yet, she wouldn't surrender. If she had been afraid of dying, she wouldn't have started this at all. She might as well have died half a year ago. On that fateful day when she was supposed to die, someone else's help allowed her to live instead. "I'll do whatever it takes to bring Raine back to life." She was repaying a borrowed life. That's why she had joined the organization called Under Chain. The leader of Under Chain, known as the Great Almighty, was a monstrous being capable even of bringing someone back to life. She had to earn his trust, and to do so, she needed to risk her life. Yes, death was nothing. Knowing that one can overcome death meant there was nothing to fear. Snap! Snap! She used faith to block out anxiety and fear. She couldn't be scared of death. "Calm down." She needed to steady her trembling body. Snap! She couldn't attach meaning to death. Snap! That was the rule of Under Chain. A path of trial to transcend even death and connect as one. "Melana!" "Ah..." Melana snapped back to reality at Jeff's shout from the doorway. Her nails had sunk deep into her fingers, drawing blood without her realizing it. That was how anxious she was. "Are you alright?" Jeff held her hand and began to patch her up. A salve and bandages—items he always carried to treat injuries anytime, anywhere. "Jeff." "Huh? Hold on, let's take care of this first." With worry etched on his face, Jeff was carefully treating her hand, and Melana looked at him with disdain. "You're such an idiot." "Yeah, I guess I am an idiot." "And I'm a fool." "That might be true." Jeff replied with a wry smile. "Sigh..." Melana had been using Jeff. She was exploiting him to leak critical information externally. And this fool didn't even realize it. And she despised herself for taking advantage of a friend who trusted and followed her so faithfully. "Life really is tough." "But you have to hold on, Melana. You've done well so far." Had she really done well? Melana hopelessly glanced at the eternally optimistic Jeff and shook her head. * * * "Sir Johan." I was learning magic from Ariel. Why was I learning magic when I was the one who requested her cooperation? It wasn't because I thought I should tackle this crisis by relying solely on my own strength. "Now, this is [Fireball], one of the most basic spells." "I know." "Then why can't you use it? They say you can use [Camouflage], a spell categorized as intermediate." "That's because it's one of the few things I'm good at." I'm skilled at it because it's a forte of mine, not because I'm particularly adept at magic. Learning [Fireball] feels like being taught an uncivilized spell. Is there no hope or dream? "How can I help you if you can't even signal that you need help?" When I became the bait, Ariel wouldn't be nearby. If she were by my side, I couldn't perform the role of bait. That's why I was learning the [Signal Flare] spell to alert her in a crisis. It's an elementary magic spell, by the way. "If you can't even use [Signal Flare] and even fail at the preceding step of [Fireball]... It's the easiest foundational magic." "[Fireball] is, after all, a spell created by history's greatest archmage. It’s not something to be dismissed as simple." "The reason Faust is considered the greatest archmage is that he invented the most elementary magic." The title of archmage isn't bestowed on just any powerful magician. Magic is the systematization of inborn supernatural abilities. Only those who have managed to delineate their supernatural talents into formulas usable by others receive this title. Thus, a great archmage is someone who has simplified these talents to the point where even a monkey could use them. Even something as simple as [Fireball] was once someone's supernatural ability. "Why don't we just use a signal gun?" "What would you do if it gets blocked? As long as there's mana left, magic can be cast again, but a signal gun is useless if it's intercepted before it’s launched." "Then I'll carry several." "If you carry too many signal guns, it will arouse suspicion." True, one might not notice one or two, but more than three would definitely draw attention. And whatever I'm carrying would also be crucial information for the attackers to make their judgments. To effectively become bait, I need to minimize any suspicion as much as possible. “Alright, let's try it again.” “Lady Ariel, let me point out that I'm not a genius like you.” “Don’t want to do it? Fine by me. But without it, Sir Johan, you'll die.” So blunt. “No, that’s not what I meant. Honestly... Do you think I'm complaining just because I don't want to learn [Fireball]?” “...Aren’t you?” The thing with geniuses. What I wanted to say touched on a much more fundamental issue. “How am I supposed to manage if you just show me twice and then tell me to do it myself? I need time to practice too.” “This is basic magic. You just do it like this.” Ariel tilted her head, and magic circles appeared drawn in the air. Her ability to trace magical patterns without even using her hands was unbelievable. As the magic circles completed, [Fireballs] emerged and whirled around her. Is she showing off? Or trying to make me feel inferior? “Besides, Sir Johan, you have registered abilities that are optimized for magic. Why is this so challenging for you?” “Shouldn't you first check if I can even use my abilities?” “Can't you?” “Not everyone is a genius like you, Lady Ariel.” Ariel's power was telekinesis. She wielded it as naturally as moving an arm or a leg. No, it's more than that—it's an extension of her consciousness itself. Hence, she had the talent to become a grand mage. And because of that, she's being consumed by her own talent. “It's a shame. It seemed like a good ability.” “Is it really a shame? Until you've tried it, no one can definitively say it's a good ability.” “That’s true.” In the end, what matters is how freely one can wield their abilities, even if everyone in this world is born with them. Most people never use them until death. That's because it's a personal ability. No one can teach you how to use it—understanding it is up to you. Because of this, very few people can wield their abilities freely. Either they have phenomenal intuition, or they have the intelligence to truly comprehend their own abilities. Lobelia belongs to the former, and Ariel is the latter. I am neither. "Well, with enough training..." "Let's stop talking about abilities. Just thinking about it gives me a headache. Let's focus on what we can do now." “Oh! Right, of course. We need to handle the magic for sending signals first.” I'm struggling here, unable to manage even a single [Fireball]. There's no time for abilities. “So, how long do you think it'll take? How many minutes should I give you?” "What?" Wow, incredible. Is this what a genius considers a ‘generous’ estimate? I shivered with disbelief. “Let’s just drop this. Isn’t it enough if I do something flashy enough to draw all eyes to me?” “Have a plan in mind?” “How about using illusion magic to create a dazzling light?” “...?” Ariel looked at me as if I had spoken nonsense. I understood. Here I was, unable to cast even a [Fireball], talking about using a far more complex spell. But I had an excuse. “My skill with drawing magic circles is subpar. I’m better with memorizing chants, so this fits my aptitude better.” “Oh, um... I see.” That's how it is with magic; methods vary wildly. Because magic is about unraveling personal abilities, methods are always diverse. Of course... “The difference between someone who can’t use basic magic and an intermediate-level magic user can really come down to aptitude.” It's a bit much to sum up the gap between basics and intermediate as a matter of aptitude alone. Basic and intermediate magic are worlds apart, like grade school and high school. It’s hardly surprising that it sounds like an excuse. “If you don’t want to do it, can you just say so? I want to avoid wasting time.” Wow, really? Ariel's displeasure was evident. Any shred of trust she had for me seemed utterly demolished. “Well, that’s just how it is.” I can’t help being who I am, can I? * * * Since the haven operated predominantly as a dormitory, it had infrastructure accessible even late at night. Training grounds, libraries, dining halls—all of these were part of it. Students could move fairly freely within the grounds, with a consistent presence even at late hours. However, there were differences. Some places that thrived during the day inevitably grew quieter by evening. One such place was the outdoor combat training ground. Unlike the typical training areas, this ground maintained natural elements like mountains and rivers, designed for practical exercises. Due to its environmental authenticity, there were no streetlights, making it an unlikely destination unless necessary. However, this also meant it was an excellent place to conceal one’s movements or hatch a plan without prying eyes. “Damn it...” For the past few days, Melana had secretly been observing Johan. Fortunately, Johan appeared unaware of her surveillance. Or could it be a deception? Perhaps he was luring her into a trap. Johan, in suspicious attire, was heading to a secluded spot. The whole situation felt meticulously staged. But then again... ‘Why would Johan Damus set a trap to catch me?’ If he intended to capture her, all he needed to do was report to the princess from the beginning. Thinking back to her encounter with him, the answer was clear. Johan had been forceful and certain while interrogating her. This meant he already possessed evidence of her betrayal within the F-class. Unfortunately, that's likely the reality. She was in a position where her head could metaphorically roll at any moment. ‘But then...’ Why had Johan Damus come here? Was he meeting someone? According to her information, there was no one frequenting this area. And if he intended to pass information to Lobelia, there were more natural methods. It was difficult to believe he would avoid attention to meet the princess. ‘The princess came to the F-class in person to see Johan anyway. There's no need for such a cumbersome process.’ Despite the tension, Melana was being more cautious than ever. No one was around. No one was watching her. In such a scenario, Johan Damus was acting alone. ‘Is he perhaps a mole for another royal? A double agent...?’ Her mind was a whirlwind of suspicion, each doubt linking to another. Without knowledge of the Cult and Eden, she couldn't comprehend Johan's inefficiencies. And that confusion... “Ah...” Vanished the instant she saw Johan burying something in the ground. Now was the time. If she missed this chance, there would be none left. Whether she acted or not, doom awaited her. Therefore, she must act. ‘Johan Damus must die!’ The thought filled her mind, and she acted before fully processing it, a chain dropping into her hand. A chain of five interconnected links, the Chain of Life bestowed by the leader of Under Chain, turned black. Whoosh! The blackened chain transformed into a monumental scythe that reaped life. Melana swung it lightly, as though it had no weight at all, launching a sudden assault on Johan. It was a perfect ambush, with timing that even a princess couldn’t react to. "What the..." But as she fiercely swung the scythe, Melana realized she hadn’t killed Johan. “How?” He shouldn’t have been able to avoid it. There were gaps everywhere. Yet Johan effortlessly dodged her scythe. It was an impossibility. An impossible speed. There were no afterimages, no pressure from velocity, nor any dust in the air. Not a single sign of movement. Melana was gripped by a chilling fear. Unspeakable terror pressed against her back. Johan evaded her attack. Moreover... “...What did you do?” He moved as if time itself had paused.