Dianthus laid back once again on his chair. “You didn’t say who did it.” He finally counterattacked. Velvet had given him an ample selection of targets, but not the culprit’s name.

“Because I like being alive.” She simply said. You’re not very bright, are you? Was what she thought.

Dianthus wouldn’t deny that. Most of his deductions came from reading the culprit’s own thoughts, which had no merit at all.

And the culprit of the Frenese incident was avoiding him like the plague.

“But…” Velvet continued. “I think there’s more than one responsible. Maybe three.”

Alright then, the culprits were avoiding him like the plague.

“The snitch, the trapmaker and the cleanup, am I wrong?” He said.

“Indeed.”

The plan needed at least three mages to work.

First, the snitch. Probably an Idirian traitor. The one who spoke about Frenese’s Book and the formation that was about to be used. Someone close to the Tarius, close enough to obtain the information.

Second, the trapmaker. Affiliated to the Mergifari, since they were the ones who set up the pocket dimension. The one who inscribed the hidden formation to release Frenese’s seal.

Third, the cleanup. A novice mage, affiliation unknown. Novice mages were the only ones allowed entry during the Opening. One would suspect an Arhontissian novice, but Dianthus lived with them, which made keeping secrets from him impossible. The one who recovered and erased the formation once Frenese got sealed.

The cleanup didn’t recover the book, and they also didn't kill Velvet, who had fainted… they probably were scared and nervous, rushing the job as much as possible.

If I didn’t see her everyday, I'd suspect Creftalia, just for the half-assed job. But, if I was the novice mage, knowing that official mages would show up minutes after the sealing, I would be shitting my pants too.

So, the novice mage isn’t necessary on Creftalia’s level.

Velvet's refusal to investigate the matter made some sense, too. Unlike Dianthus, she wasn’t backed by the Queen, and wasn’t immortal.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but that she couldn’t.

Velvet had chosen to bid her time. Even if the trail went cold by the time she could do something, she put her own safety first.

Not everyone could shove their nose up official mages business like Dianthus did, after all.

And Dianthus didn’t plan on involving her, anyway.

Their meeting today was some coincidence, one that won’t happen again.

During their talk, which wasn’t anything more than a brief exchange of words, more novice mages had entered, taking seats; until the last person, an old woman with a stern face entered.

“Paramus Traversa.” Dianthus said in a low voice to Velvet. “The Traversa’s matriarch.”

The mage who Tristan wants to rob when the Pioneer arrives… “I see.”

Who and why? Dianthus wanted to ask, but there was no way for him to do it without arousing suspicion. He was more interested in the Pioneer bit, since Permafrost was the biggest issue.

Even bigger than the deities' conflicts.

He should check the Pioneer’s arrival too. If what was inside was enough for an official mage to leave their pocket dimension unattended, it should be worth his time.

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Looking at the now completely filled class, he realized how many mages Paramus had brought.

That was his first clue that something was wrong.

Mages weren’t altruistic creatures. If they knew something had high demand, then they would demand the highest price they could get.

A class full because the entry fee was just buying at a shop was simply ridiculous.

A revenge against Arhontissa? He tensed up, checking the minds of the novice mages to count. No, there’s barely any Arhontissian mages here.

Dianthus turned to glance at Velvet. She had also realized something, but was way calmer than him.

Idir is trying to recover from the losses. Oh, I can get so many benefits from this… Ah, but I don’t want to tease them with Frenese’s Book that much. It’s mine now, after all. Not for sale!

Ah, is that what’s happening? He felt a bit dumb for panicking, even when there was no one to prove that.

Well, there was his mind companion, but it didn’t count.

Paramus cleared her throat, and the room fell silent. The old lady had dark skin, with purple eyes, red long hair collected into an elegant bun and a leather, long white dress from where a myriad of golden trinkets hung.

Dressing in white even when she’s an artificer… Of course, no dirt defeated magic, and he knew that, reason why he also dressed in white.

He liked the smugness that came once a dirty, bloody battle ended with him looking pristine.

Stopping thinking about himself, he continued; Paramus wore a golden monocle on her right eye, made by two rings which slowly turned counterclockwise.

She walked to the center of the room, slowly. “Welcome.”

Dianthus felt her gaze on him for a moment, before she turned to look at the other novices.

None of them feel interesting. Too bland, too naive. Not enough to hold His gaze… But, a deal is a deal.

His? The capitalization wasn’t lost on Dianthus.

“Some of you came here for the engraving course, and I must say, that’s great of you. There’s not enough mages dedicated to engraving nowadays.”

“The others came here for engine work, the ways to mix machines and magic, or just curiosity.”

“No matter the reasons or the needs who brought you here, since I’ll answer them all.”

As per the Mergifari’s deal.

“I’ll teach you the way to deny the laws of nature.”

The reason behind Idir's overwhelming machinery.

“No money in this world can buy both this name and its ritual. But from now on, it’ll be public knowledge.”

Permafrost keeps growing, even in war.

“You should count yourselves fortunate. The times you’ll live will be truly interesting.”

Paramus took a little breath, made a little pause, before saying a name.

“Baetylus, the Hollow Earth's Forge.”

…

A strange sensation ran through Dianthus, as he saw how a mark, similar to a melting hole, appeared on all the novice mages, including him. However, his mark quickly disappeared.

“What was that?” He quickly asked his mind companion.

“I stopped him from influencing you.”

Dianthus instantly checked Paramus’ thoughts. She planned on first saying the name, just to explain the ritual next. She was now waiting to see if someone truly got His attention.

“Don’t they have to say the name to call Him out?” He asked.

“That’s not true, and that grasshopper taught you that personally, if I remember.”

By grasshopper, he meant Lothrigern.

“He looks more like a mantis to me…”

“I don’t care about what bug He resembles, what matters is that Deriliam’s true names are not like deities' names. The idea that you need to say them out loud to get Their attention is a lie. The moment you know the Deriliam’s name, They become aware of you.”

Dianthus had to force himself to not turn towards Velvet. That would surely catch the attention of both Paramus and his monitor.

Because if someone was catching gazes like a worm in a chicken’s coop, only one name came to mind.

“How is she looking?”

“Just as you suspect. A third mark has grown.”

Dianthus took a deep breath. Two was coincidence, three was a pattern. And that became a possibility.

In tales, prophecies or whatever term could be used, there were always two sides.

The Chosen One, destined to save the world. The hero in shining armor, beloved by the people.

And the other side…

“The Deriliams are crowding to watch a show.” The voice said. “Waiting for the moment the Ruin Bringer appears.”

Velvet was his enemy. The one he was born to kill.