“No. There was an odd, robed figure here. He was wielding the Destruction Affinity in a skillful way.” Iskandaar said, making her frown.
Amelia’s gaze flitted between the young man before her, and the corpse sprawled across the stone path. A robed figure, he says. Iskandaar's robes had vanished from sight, a neat trick that had surprised her. Why is he making such a stupid lie? Katheran can figure it out easily…
Iskandaar’s starlight sword remained lit as she fought the urge to react, keeping her features neutral as Katheran’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. The professor’s sharp gaze swept over the scene, lingering on the dark remnants surrounding the headless body, the severed limbs still emanating a tainted energy.
Amelia was unable to trace the Destruction Affinity back to Iskandaar, oddly enough, but she doubted Katheran would be fooled. If anyone could pierce through Iskandaar’s web of deception, it would be Katheran and his Aetheris Eyes. They saw more than mana—they saw the truth within it.
Why’s he lying anyway? It was not as if Destruction Affinity was a demon-exclusive thing. Anyone from any race could have it, although incredibly rare. There was no point in hiding in. Or so she thought. A moment later she realized that he was actively showing Star Affinity… It’d be weird if he turned out to have a second, hidden affinity.
Double Affinities weren’t impossible, but two things so rare? It’d make him appear suspicious.
Amelia cursed internally. Her heart thumped hard against her ribs, a drumbeat of worry. Would Katheran see through this? Would he be able to piece together the faint signature of darkness that clung stubbornly to the garden like a lingering mist?
Please, Katheran. Just this once, be fooled.
The professor’s eyes glimmered a brief flash behind his sunglasses, making her stomach twist. He stared in silence… and then he nodded, his jaw relaxing. “I see. I can’t seem to track the source of the Destruction Mana in the air. Whoever it was is very skilled at hiding his trail.”
…Amelia observed Iskandaar’s reaction to those words. He just nodded. On the contrary, relief flooded her body, leaving her almost light-headed.
How could he not be worried at all?
Whatever this boy was doing, it worked. She didn’t know the technique, couldn’t even begin to guess at its nature, but it had shielded him from scrutiny. In the last few weeks since his arrival here, Amelia felt as though years had been shaved from her life by the sheer strain of moments like this.
Thankfully it’s panned out.
A few minutes later, she felt like she had just jinxed it.
****
The garden of the Fenixia mansion had transformed quickly in a few minutes. Where once there was silence, it was now filled with noise—heavy boots thudding across the cobblestones, armor clanking as city guards and senior students moved through the grounds. Voices rose in tense whispers. Professors debated in low, urgent tones.
“What do you think of that spot? The mana is thicker there.”
“I guess. We could collect a sample from there.”
Members of the White Magic Tower stood apart, observing with eyes that were as calculating as they were cautious. Even the Church of Light had sent representatives, taking away the body of the demon while also taking samples of the mana in the air.
Amelia glanced around, taking in the scene with practiced detachment. The worry had passed, and she was happy that the body of a demon was recovered. Using this, she’d be able to convince the United Church that the demons who were behind Sir Likard’s case were dealt with; one had escaped, but another was killed. No more Holy Knights should come to Waybound regarding this situation.
Iskandaar rested under the shade of an old tree, looking quite nonchalant as his maid tended to him. His older sister, Riasmin, stood beside him, her face set in a mask of concern. She had arrived earlier with many of the other senior students who had volunteered to search for demons tomorrow.
After this incident, there was no need for that. The outcomes were great. Amelia liked them. Iskandaar should be fine from now on… however, she ought to talk with him about all this. Just what had he done to that Holy Knight?
Regardless, the situation was dealt with as far as she was concerned. The Destruction Affinity in the field, as well as the reported “robed figure” might cause a bit of trouble, but it should be fine too.
If Katheran couldn’t trace it back to Iskandaar, there were few who could.
From the corner of her eyes, she caught a flash of movement that drew her attention, and her eyes narrowed as Solara and Nebula appeared at the mansion’s entrance, breathless as if they had just arrived. Amelia’s brows knit together.
I don’t think that’s right… This was the Fenixia Mansion. Amelia was sure Solara had been with Iskandaar and his maid from the get-go. How could Iskandaar be in this area but not her? Now there she was, pretending like she just arrived. Is Nebula Carlstein involved in this too?
She worried that Iskandaar might be pulling too many people into his secret. Would it be alright if things continued developing like this?
That aside, what had these four students been up to inside that abandoned mansion until the demons attacked?
“....”
The idea dashed through her mind before she could stop it, an unsolicited scandalous thought. A lone mansion… Four young students…
Amelia closed her eyes and coughed into her hand, banishing the ridiculous image that sprang to life. They were her students, regardless of her little blunder with him before at Lockdarn. She had to control her imagination.
Solara and Nebula reached Iskandaar, falling into a wave of conversation. It was a scene Amelia recognized well—a gathering of friends. At least he wasn’t alone. She smiled.
She let herself breathe for a moment. The boy wasn’t a bad person, no matter if he was actually a demon or something. She’d hate to see him meet a cruel death. So she smiled, seeing him live another way. Whatever threat had lurked here had passed. And now—
– Shingg!
A sudden burst of light streaked across the sky, a pillar of brilliance that sliced through the dark canopy and erupted into a blinding flare before descending like a star falling to earth. Gasps and shouts swept through the crowd as professors and guards tensed, their hands moving to hilts, staffs, and anything within reach.
Amelia’s chest tightened as the light settled, revealing figures clad in robes of pristine white that shimmered like silk spun from the sun itself. Her earlier relief vanished in an instant.
The Church of Light’s emblem gleamed on their chests, but it was the man at their forefront who set her heart plummeting.
“Greetings, professors,” said the old man whose presence was as commanding as it was calm. He stood taller than most, his frame lean but exuding an indomitable power.
The long, flowing robes he wore glowed with divine enchantments, their edges inscribed with runes that seemed to hum with a latent force. His hair was an immaculate silver, flowing past his shoulders, framing a wrinkled face that was equal parts harsh and kind. Eyes the color of morning frost swept over the scene, and for a moment, time seemed to still be under their gaze.
The Luminarch.
The voice of Luminas, the God of Light and Virtue. One of the twelve Archbishops of the world and the highest spiritual leader of the Church of Light.
Amelia’s blood turned cold. This was beyond what she had expected. The man was the peak of the 8th Ascension, a power that only few on the continent could hope to match. She could do it, but this wasn’t her fight. He wasn’t here for her.
When she said ‘If Katheran couldn’t trace it back to Iskandaar, there were few who could’ she had counted him in it. And now, he approached her slowly with a trained smile, hands behind his back, his gaze piercing and unforgiving.
“Iskandaar,” she whispered under her breath, unable to tear her eyes away from the Luminarch.
“It has been a while, Chancellor,” the man stopped before her and said. “I hope you’ll cooperate with a few of my questions.”
****
The garden of the Fenixia mansion was once again quiet. Voices that shouted orders, magic hummed and sparked through the air, and heavy boots that crushed fallen leaves and stones underfoot—all had gone silent after a group of Church of Light people had landed in the area.
I watched the scene with my senses on high alert. I thought the night was going to end calmly, but this…
Every city had multiple churches, but there was usually only one that was very prominent. It was treated as the headquarters of God’s church. In Waybound City, Luminas, the God of Light and Virtue, enjoyed the presence of his main church.
Luminas was a powerful god with incredible legends to his name. He was revered as the embodiment of purity and righteousness. People considered the counterpart of Shivaron, the God of Destruction whose presence I had felt in the frozen time a few days ago.
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It was bad news to meet his Archbishop here.
I shifted my gaze to the girls beside me. “This is not good…” Lilian said while Nebula and Solara exchanged whispered words, their eyes darting nervously to the groups of professors who walked past.
Riasmin stood close, arms folded and relaxed. She didn’t look tense, for she didn’t know the dangers of that man being here. Under the tree’s shadow, I felt like standing on a ship amidst a storm, sheltered but not safe.
Then the worst happened. The Archbishop, who’d been conversing with Amelia earlier, turned to face my group. Amelia sighed as she walked beside Katheran and another professor, the elf Lysandra. The man in flowing white robes led the group. His aura pressed against my Demonic Sphere like a heavyweight, pushing it back.
The Luminarch.
A nasty bastard.
I pushed myself up, feeling Lilian step in line beside me, her body taut as a drawn wire. “Relax yourself,” I warned her. It’d be unwise to appear suspicious. The Luminarch’s pale eyes swept over us, calculating.
The pressure that filled the space was suffocating, as if the heavens themselves leaned in to listen as Luminarch stopped in front of me. He was a head taller than me, looming over me with a serious expression.
“So you were the one who drove the troll demon away?” He asked in a voice that carried effortlessly, a soft echo of command rather than a question.
“I was,” I replied, letting my gaze remain steady. “I was inside the mansion when I heard a commotion from outside. When I came out, one of the demons were dead, and the other had gone mad. Its limbs were scattered across the ground. I barely managed to fight it off, mostly thanks to my maid.”
He didn’t move, didn’t blink. Only the air around him seemed to shift, growing heavier as he considered my words. “How? You’re 4th Ascension. She’s 6th Ascension. The demon must have been on the 7th ascension. How did you make him flee?” he asked, each syllable sharp like a knife.
I had touched Level 42 after the trollkin, Vrakrith, fled the place. My experience points from killing Zelyr returned, and I experienced level-ups. Nobody knew that. So he can gauge Lilian and my ascension just by looking?
It was light’s job to observe the secrets hidden underneath the darkness, so the divinity of Luminas probably granted its Archbishop incredible senses.
Everyone was looking at me, even Riasmin, curious how I managed to do what I did.
“Well,” I had my answer ready. “He must have been weakened after fighting against the professors earlier, I don’t know. But I think the main reason why I won was because…”
I raised my remaining arm and, with a practiced breath, let the Star Affinity hum into existence—a bright and unwavering lance of light flung out of my stump, the starlight sword pointing toward the sky. Its warmth pricked my skin.
The Luminarch’s eyes narrowed, and the light reflected in his irises like molten gold.
“Ah…” He blinked, “The purity…” The subtle tension in his posture eased, though the aura remained. He looked at my face. “Iskandaar Romani, right? Should have known it was pointless to bother you with doubt. I apologize.”
He nodded and turned on his heel, robes flickering across the grass, and walked away, leaving the pressure to fade with him. I and the girls watched him leave, and his group of followers and professors also trailed behind.
I let out a slow breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I was lucky that he wasn’t in the mood to place a hand on my chest and do a proper scan of my energy core.
For if he had probed deeper, if he had truly scanned…
The garden buzzed back to life as the Luminarch disappeared into the shifting lights of the investigation. This city was a lot more dangerous than I thought.
****
Morning light filtered through the curtains and fell over Alaric’s eyes. He parted them reluctantly, the dull throb in his ribs greeting him with each breath.
“Huh…” he blinked.
The infirmary was lit by light coming from the window, weaving soft shadows that fell over the walls. Shelves crammed with vials and healing potions lined the room, their contents shimmering under the magical light. The linens on the cot beneath him were coarse against his skin, woven through with barely-there runes that buzzed with energy, working to mend what was broken.
He almost felt surprised that last night wasn’t a dream. Such an odd and dangerous encounter… he wished it was just a nightmare. Unfortunately, fate was never so kind.
He turned his head, a sharp sting protesting the motion, and found Jana in the cot next to him. She was more bandaged than not, one leg hoisted up with an enchanted sling, the glow from the healing runes casting a faint halo around her.
Look what those demonic bastards have done to her… he felt useless as memories of last night, where he was forced to hide and watch her get beaten to near death, arose in his head. Despite all that, when his eyes met hers, she managed a smile, weak but familiar.
“Ah, young master, you’re up…” Her voice was thin, but the relief in it settled something inside him. He smiled back. Even among Demi-Lions, she was strong.
He heaved out a soft breath. “Looks like we’re both worse for wear,” he said, forcing a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve been up for a while?”
Jana’s chuckle was a whisper, quickly swallowed by the silence. “Yep, it’s been a few hours. I was watching you sleep…” She said, “I was worried, but the academy healers know their craft.”
His eyes traced the lines of her injuries, the bruises darkening her skin, and the fatigue weighing down her features. “...Do you know what happened to those demons in the end?” he asked, voice rougher than he intended.
She hesitated, and that alone sent a shiver down his spine. Did the professors fail? But that couldn’t be! “Do you remember the Romani boy?” she finally asked.
Alaric’s brows furrowed. How could he forget? Iskandaar Romani—he’d first seen him in Tremora City, just another noble’s son with a reputation built more on the family crest than any real merit. Even if that family was built on greatness. But then Waybound had chipped away at that first impression. Arrogance, a nonchalance vibe, and power that backed up both. He didn’t seem like another noble name propped up by his wealth.
Despite all that, he couldn’t understand how Iskandaar Romani came into all of this.
“What about him? Did the professors not manage to contain the demons?” Alaric pressed the ache in his side now an afterthought.
Jana’s gaze dropped for a beat before meeting his again, disbelief lingering at the edges. “Professor Valmyre lost against the trollkin. It’s sad but not unbelievable, you saw how strong that green bastard was. He injured Professor Valmyre so much that Professor Katheran had no choice but to tend to his wounds, and the trollkin used that chance to grab the dark elf and flee. But then…”
“Then?”
“The demons encountered Iskandaar Romani. Apparently, someone else killed the dark elf, which made the trollkin go berserk, and… Iskandaar Romani happened to be in that area, prompting a fight between the two. The trollkin fled in fear after the fight.”
Silence collapsed between them, a stunned, suspended thing that pressed against his chest. Alaric searched her face, waiting for the grin, the punchline. But… it didn’t come.
“...You can’t be serious,” he said, the denial clear.
Her jaw clenched, a flicker of something unreadable passing over her features. “I wish I was, young master.”
The room shrank around him, the soft hum of healing magic doing nothing to mask the questions racing through his mind. The dark elf had been one thing—vicious, sure, but manageable. Whoever killed him must have been lucky and then fled when the trollkin went mad. How did Iskandaar Romani send the creature running?
“Tell me everything,” he whispered, demanding knowledge in the hope of finding a catch.
****
It was morning, and my room was well-lit. I sat down beside the window and read a book, tracing the last line of the page, the carefully inked words.
The book was an ancient text on the synthesis of affinities within a mage’s core. It was a fascinating thing, but the page had ended. I could use my hand to flip it, but I wasn’t used to flipping pages with my left hand. So... with a slight frown of concentration, I directed my will, letting mana rise within me, raw and responsive.
A thin, controlled whip of energy extended from my mind, touched the corner of the page and turned it. My lips twitched upward in a satisfied smirk.
[Skill: Mana Manipulation (Master).]
It was all thanks to this. It was my first time gaining that skill last night, but thanks to the benefits of the demonic core, I could already control it enough that it was at Master rank. More than control, what I now lacked was practice. I suspected that soon, I’d actually be able to use it in a way actually to deserve the master title beside it.
I leaned back in the chair, the cool air brushing my skin. After the Luminarch’s visit, the night didn’t present any other surprises. We were allowed to return, and I somehow managed to score a good night’s rest. Although I had a feeling that this morning was going to be busy soon…
The faint, familiar footsteps of Lilian reached my ears before she stepped into view. She moved toward me with a blend of something that I now realized made me think of drawn swords and the subtle hum of danger. My extra energy core seemed to have enhanced my senses further, for I could feel that despite being relaxed, she was already ready to pounce like a cat.
She placed a cup of tea on the table, her eyes sharp as they settled on me. “Did you just turn the page without touching it? I thought I was seeing things,” she said.
“I did,”
“Whoa…” she seemed surprised. “That’s kinda cool. At least you’ve gained some control in movement, thanks to this. It should make up for your missing hand,” she remarked, her voice soft as she stood behind me and looked at the book. “What is this?”
I looked down at the cup. For a moment, I wanted to lift it with my mana, but… In the end, I reached out and lifted the cup with my good hand, taking a sip. It wasn’t the heat that concerned me, it couldn’t burn me, not with what my skin had become, but still. No point in making Lilian work more.
“Synthesis of Affinities Within a Mage’s Core, written by Magnus Bellwyn the 9th Ascension Mage,” I answered her, glancing up to meet her eyes.
Her gaze was curious, probing deeper than the surface. She leaned over further, running a hand over the text. She couldn’t read before when she was with her tribe, but the head maid had made her learn. “Mage, huh?” she asked, tilting her head. “So your new core is in your heart? I recall you said your first core was in your lower abdomen… weirdly enough.”
I hummed. “Actually, both a [Knight] and a [Mage] have their Mana Core in the same spot, in the heart. The heart is almost at the center of the chest, barely leaning toward the left side. It’s a myth that those who use aura have their core in the center, while mages have their core on the left side of the chest. Both have their cores in their heart.”
“Ah.”
I cleared my throat, quoting Katheran, “The truth is, aura and mana are just two sides of the same coin. Magic is about control. Aura is about force. But both are just energy. Same energy, actually. The filter is just different, one flows through the heart, and the other flows around it. And once you understand that, the line between them starts to blur.”
“Ohhh~!”
“So,” I said, pointing at my chest. “I have my new core in my heart, yes, and it's swirling within the heart, not around it. And yes, that makes me a mage. I can learn spells if I try.”
She grinned as a flicker of surprise crossed her face. She ruffled my hair and laughed. “Does that mean you’re twice stronger now?”
“Not yet. I haven’t learned any spells yet,” I replied. “And since I don’t have a mage Class, I don’t have the luxury of system-given spells. I need to read books and learn. Anyway, can you stop touching my hair?”
“No, it looks silky after the blood bath. Should I take one next time?” Lilian asked, and I was unsure if she was joking or not. Before I could respond, the silence was shattered by a knock. It was loud and urgent.
I frowned. I knew who it was. Another knock fell, sharper this time.
“Coming,” Lilian said, withdrawing from me and walking over to the room. I settled the tea down and shifted my attention to the door.
The door opened, and Solara was the first to step through, her wings pressed tightly to her back. Her gaze darted around the room, taking in the scene until it stopped on me. She shot me a worried look. I soon understood why. Behind her, Nebula followed, her posture rigid, eyes drilling into me with a frown.
My fiance looked mad.
Nebula stepped forward, the mask of control she usually wore splintering. She didn’t beat around the bush. She stopped in front of me and asked loudly, “No more games, Iskandaar. I enjoyed your ‘show’ last night, but… What are you, really?”
The room suddenly felt smaller. Solara, and even Lilian, looked curious for my answer to that question. Reminded me that I never actually told them the truth.