Astur paced the length of his study. Night had closed in, but the perfectly calibrated Light Stones gave the room a warm cream-colored light. His astronomy instruments had collected a layer of dust as he had spent more time away from his research. He kept telling himself that life would return to normal, but as the days went by, the situation deteriorated. 

He paused and looked through the window. The walls. The gardens. The Egg. After hearing the news about the anti-nobility rally, he knew his personal kingdom was in peril. Not only had the rogue Runeweaver Robert Clarke survived, but the presence of Red Corruption made him doubt Byrne’s goals.

Astur had done everything in his power to assist Byrne, and yet things had taken a strange turn. He shook his head. Byrne had never stated that Robert Clarke was meant to die, but Astur was certain that was the true purpose behind his invitation to the anti-nobility rally. What else could it be? A rogue Runeweaver was a threat. There was no reason for the System to have two of them.

Astur shuddered. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw almost all the East Ward covered in a layer of frost. Hundreds of meters of underground tunnels damaged. Summer turned into winter. It was difficult to accept that a single man was responsible for such a feat of power. But that wasn’t the worst part. If the records of the event were accurate, all activities took place while the System was gone.

The mere idea of the System going down sent him into a spiral.

Who was he if not a Lv.55 Radiant Paladin?

Astur didn’t dare to search for an answer.

“Robert Clarke survived,” he said, looking at the shadow in the corner.

“Robert Clarke was meant to survive,” Byrne replied, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Not so long ago, Astur feared no man. A Lv.55 Radiant Paladin could easily deal with any sort of opponent, even those with a similar level to him. There were only a handful of higher levels in the kingdom, half of them old men and women whose fighting days were long gone. Still, the list of men he feared had grown twofold in such a short time. Samuel Byrne and Robert Clarke were both monsters. 

In his nightmares, Astur saw the hellhole that created them: Connecticut.

“Robert Clarke was meant to survive… live on… pull through, capisce?” Byrne said, moving his hand in a strange way.

Astur found himself at a loss for words. If it meant Robert Clarke’s demise, he could overlook the anti-nobility rally and even the Red Crystal Shrine. Playing with Corruption, however, crossed the line. Until now, Astur had turned a blind eye to Byrne’s movements, but his goodwill was running dangerously low.

“I hope the System has a good reason to have its Zealots running around creating Corruption,” Astur said, his commanding voice surfacing through the cracks of his once obedient demeanor.

Byrne raised an eyebrow.

“Inquisitive today, aren’t you?”

“Would you prefer someone who obeyed without complaint?”

Byrne laughed, and for a moment, he seemed younger than he really was.

“Well, yes. I would prefer you not question me. It would certainly make things easier.”

Gwan Astur was a prideful man. Reaching such heights at such a young age was only natural for someone with his talent and drive. However, talent and drive weren’t enough among talented and driven people. Astur attributed his success to his absolute lack of fear. Early in his life, he realized that fear only served to slow him down. But things had changed, and after a long time, Astur finally found something to fear.

The only reasonable solution to kill two monstrous beasts was to sic them on one another, wait for the moment they were wounded, and finish the job. The only problem was that the bigger beast seemed interested in nurturing the smaller one. Assuming that Robert Clarke caused most of the casualties during the rally, he should’ve gotten a few levels that night.

“You will tell me what you are planning,” Astur said.

“I don’t appreciate you giving me orders,” Byrne replied.

Gwan Astur was a prideful man, and now that he knew the taste of fear, he refused to be put in a situation where his powers could be stripped from him.

“Tread carefully, Samuel Byrne. You have too much to lose,” Astur grunted, as mana surged through his body. “If I say one word, the whole kingdom will know that you are behind the anti-nobility movement. Do you think my knights fear the Church? We will unearth every single speck of evidence about your relation to the Red Corruption, and you will be left with nothing.”

Byrne was amused. During his days as a gold smuggler, he had crossed paths with men whose cruelty had no limits. Next to them, Gwan was a little more than a pup with an oversized sense of importance.

“In hindsight, it was obvious that we would end this way. Let me tell you something. You don’t know how long I searched for this world, and I will save it with or without you,” Byrne calmly said, extending his authority beyond his body. With a simple command, he severed the connection between Astur and the System.

Astur paled as the mana died inside him. Of course, he still theoretically had access to natural magic, but no inhabitant of Ebros was proficient with it. Humans weren’t made to wield magic; they just stumbled upon it, or rather, magic stumbled upon them. 

Ebrosians lacked the trigger to kickstart their powers, but luckily for earthlings, the Fountain seemed genuinely interested in them.

“You were a helpful tool,” Byrne said. “But I have nicer ones.”

A hole opened under Astur’s feet, and for a moment he could see a bright white sun floating in the middle of darkness. He felt weightless and fell through. Then, the hole disappeared, as if nothing had happened.

Without a sound, Byrne also disappeared, leaving no trace.

The study was left in silence.

Astur found himself elsewhere. Darkness above, the bright white sun underneath. He felt no fear as he fell. He just hoped the two monsters would kill each other.

* * *

“We are going to tell the truth, but you have to promise you won’t hurt us,” Genivra said, her words coming out slurred and choppy.

“Let us in,” Cedrinor added in a tiny voice, trying to get through the doorway.

Wolf, however, blocked most of it.

It took a full five seconds for the words to sink in, and even then, their meaning slipped right past me. [Foresight] tried to fill the blanks with little success. Before I could respond, Wolf, Zaon, Ilya, and Firana surrounded the two cadets, preventing them from advancing or retreating. Wolf set a heavy hand on the back of Cedrinor’s neck while Firana grabbed Genivra’s shoulders. Both cadets froze.

“You two sound hella suspicious,” Firana said. “Why won’t we talk inside?”

Genivra and Cedrinor were forcefully dragged inside my bedroom by the four orphans, and strangely, they looked relieved to be let in. I didn’t need [Foresight] to read it on their faces—they were terrified. 

“Speak,” Wolf said.

Genivra nervously looked at me, waiting for confirmation.

I mindlessly nodded, my brain fighting to keep up with the events.

“You have to promise you’ll protect us,” she said.

“From whom?!” I asked, alarmed.

The cadets exchanged a nervous glance.

“W-we don’t know, but Lord Astur is missing. We were supposed to meet him today, but when we arrived, the waiting room was crowded. He always vacates the place to meet us. Sir Rhovan was making a scene because he had been waiting an hour, and the aides said they hadn’t seen Lord Astur since yesterday. When Sir Rhovan barged into his chambers, there was no one inside. Even his personal aide hadn’t seen him.” Genivra said, stumbling upon her own words.

I couldn't help but tilt my head, trying to understand.

“So, Astur has been missing for what… twelve hours? That’s it?”

“He’s probably visiting a brothel or something,” Ilya pointed out. “What? That’s what Imperial Knights do.”

Genivra shook her head vehemently.

“They took him, and they will take us!”

“And who exactly are these ‘they’?” Wolf asked.

Genivra and Cedrinor exchanged yet another look.

“W-we don’t know.”

I clapped my hands as loudly as I could to put a stop to the barrage of information.

“From the top. Slowly,” I said, casting my Silence Dome around the room. Something awful must’ve happened if they believed I was going to hurt them.

Cedrinor cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

I tried to piece together what might have happened, but my brain drew blanks.

“Astur entrusted us to spy on you,” he said, picking his words carefully. “It all started after the first selection exam. He ordered us to map your skillset and look for anything out of the ordinary. We… it wasn’t ideal, but we thought it would be best for our position in the Academy to have contacts in the high spheres once you were gone.”

My brain suddenly came back online, and [Foresight] sent me down a new line of thought. Cedrinor’s missing enchanted shirt after the midterms. Genivra’s invitation to the anti-nobility rally. Their childish efforts to convince me to stay in Cadria to help Prince Adrien. 

I closed my eyes as [Foresight] bombarded me with tiny snippets of conversation that made a lot more sense now. Astur and the Church stubbornly pushing for a resurgence of the most traditional ways of evaluation at the Academy. The purple potions magically appearing in the camping supplies. Zealots casually asking Byrne for a teleportation method into the exam grounds.

Cedrinor opened his mouth to continue talking, but I stopped him.

Firana must’ve taken the signal the wrong way. She stepped in without hesitation and slammed her fist into the boy’s gut hard enough to knock the air out of him. Cedrinor folded, his knees hitting the floor and his arms wrapped around his stomach, fighting for a breath.  Before I could say anything, Firana turned on Genivra. Her fist hit with the crack of thunder, lifting her off her feet and sending her crashing against the edge of the desk. 

“Firana!”

“What?! I thought you wanted me to tenderize them!”

I rubbed my temples and told Wolf to check them for broken ribs or punctured organs.

“In Firana’s defense, it looked like you were asking her to tenderize them,” Ilya said, watching as Wolf used his hand to control green mana lights that hovered over the cadets’ bodies.

“We are sorry,” Cedrinor muttered, saliva dropping from his mouth.

“Are you now, you little rat?” Firana grabbed his hair and pulled his face up.

Ebrosian Robert put his metaphorical hand over my shoulder and whispered in my ear.

Let kids be kids.

Genivra seemed to be about to cry.

“R-rats, we are rats… we did it because we thought it was the easiest way to survive at the Academy. But please, we failed at doing whatever they wanted. You survived the rally. Astur is gone, and they might come for us,” she said in a pleading voice. “We’ll do anything, so please protect us.”

I clapped again, this time not because I wanted to say anything but because I needed silence. The realization hit me. I didn’t sneak into the anti-nobility rally like I had thought. They baited me to attend. They wanted me there. Byrne wanted me there. But why?

“W-we’ll tell you anything!” Genivra said again. “There is no anti-nobility rally. Astur gets his orders from someone above, we are sure. There are only a few individuals above him. The royal family has to be behind everything. M-maybe the factions that oppose Prince Adrien.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Genivra was keen, but she was partly mistaken. There was no real anti-nobility movement, yes, but the royal family had nothing to do with it. The anti-nobility movement was just a bunch of System-controlled Zealots, and someone who could control the Quest subroutine.

Why Byrne would want me in that warehouse was difficult to tell.

“Robert, you are a pig!” Ilya suddenly said.

“I think we already clarified that Faun Robert isn’t my child—”

Ilya silenced me with a look.

“Byrne is feeding you. He has been feeding you since he met you. He knows you are secretly a Runeweaver, and yet he taught you more runeweaving. He forced you into a position where you had to kill to survive, and you became stronger, and he must’ve also had a reason to expose you to that strange interdimensional being.”

I froze. Pushing against the eerie presence at the rally had helped me become aware of my authority. Natural magic wasn’t something that could be explained with words. Experience was the only way to understand it, and runeweaving alone wasn’t a particularly efficient way of doing so.

Ilya had a point.

“There’s only one reason he wants you big and strong. Byrne is preparing you for a fight… and he wants you to know about the dangers of natural magic…” Ilya continued, frowning so hard her eyebrows almost met in the middle. Suddenly, she paled. “The teleportation machine and the Red Crystals are linked! There’s a reason why the blueprints only aim at big cities!”

A heavy silence hung over the room.

“Byrne doesn’t want to teleport Cadria or any of the other big cities on the continent elsewhere. He wants to bring something here, something strong enough that it would take hundreds or thousands of high-level people to kill it,” she concluded.

At last, the puzzle came together. Somewhat. The question about what Byrne would win with all of his efforts remained unanswered. I doubted his intentions were completely selfless.

The kids looked at me, waiting for a reaction.

“I think you are right, Ilya. The Lich was raising an army because he was scared of powerful Corruption monsters living in the deep Farlands. He saw them as the greatest danger to his existence. Byrne must’ve reached the same conclusion,” I said, looking at Firana. “It seems you were also right all this time.”

The girl gave me a confused look.

“I asked you how you would deal with the Lions, Tigers, and Bears, and you told me you would hunt them down. You said your fangs will be sharper, your claws faster, and your arms stronger,” I said, unable to hide my pride for the girls. “But what would make you win is your wits.”

“She’s an idiot savant; I’m just clever,” Ilya said.

Firana blushed.

“Did I really say that?”

“Verbatim.”

“It sounded better in my mind.”

“I think that was cool. I couldn’t have said that with a straight face,” Zaon pointed out, but his words didn’t help Firana in the least.

Genivra shyly raised her hand.

“W-what are y-you talking about?”

“Can I tell them? They already heard all the important parts,” Ilya said.

I nodded, and a devilish glance appeared on the girl’s face.

“Listen, you two, because I’m going to say these words only once. The Fountain is dying. The System will be destroyed. Corruption will cover the land. The world is going to end and if we don’t do something now, all of us are going to fucking die, so you better stop playing around and make yourself useful.”

Cedrinor and Genivra cowered, and for the first time since I met them, they looked like the kids they were. The life near the border forced people to grow up quick, and those two weren’t an exception. Even if I tried, I couldn’t blame them for picking the safest choice. In the end, Astur was going to be the leader of the Academy for a long time, while I was someone who was passing by.

“G-grand Archivist Byrne is a Scholar… w-we can take care of him if you want,” Genivra said.

I laughed.

“I’m not sending you on a suicide mission. You two wouldn’t even be able to touch him, regardless of what you attempt. But you might be able to help me with something else,” I said. This time, the devilish grin appeared on my face. “If my calculations are correct, natural magic can be easily taught as long as you have someone to awaken your authority.”

The picture of a society where technology served to amplify magical effects, and magic served to power machinery, was starting to take form in my brain. I just needed to kickstart the revolution, and once others awakened their authority, they could teach the next generation.

Even in small quantities, magic could produce outstanding results if used smartly. Force and Vampiric couldn’t be particularly powerful if the System classified them as Rank I Runes, and yet, together they could create a weapon stronger than any high-level warrior: the Clarke&Ginz Smoothbore Blaster with the Mana Drain Ballistic Capped bullets.

“We will do anything to help,” Genivra said.

“What should we do?” Cedrinor added.

I clapped my hands and gave her my best enthusiastic teacher smile.

“First, we’ll have to sever your connection to the System.”

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