[06:08][Wednesday]

The following day, I woke up early despite not needing to attend any classes. It was crucial to execute one of my plans in the morning so that everything could go smoothly. Thankfully, I didn't have to leave the academy dorms, but the sheer size of the dorm area still made the task daunting.

“So, I just need to ask if she’s been around since Friday?” A confused voice sounded beside me as I walked through the academy dorms, wearing my uniform to blend in. The voice belonged to a boy with short black hair, slicked back and glinting in the orange glow of the sunrise behind us. It was still a bit too early to head to class, so his preparedness caught me a bit off guard

Casper, one of my right-hand men from class, had answered my call early this morning for a specific task. Since I was the class leader, he naturally assumed I wanted to discuss something related to class. Unfortunately for him, it had nothing to do with that.

“Yeah, just tell the receptionist Professor Bloodthorn sent you. Give her this, and tell them to only give it to that girl when she comes back after school.” I handed him a brown, unsealed envelope with no markings. He stared at it suspiciously while taking it from me.

“Can I ask what this is for?” he asked, flipping it over to see if there was any writing on it, though he didn’t dare peek inside.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” I said with a serious face. Whether it was because he thought I wasn't joking or just decided it wasn’t worth pressing further, he stayed silent. Almost 20 minutes went by, and as we reached the dormitory building in question, I continued forward while he turned toward it. We were on the west side of the dormitories, where most of the girls' buildings were located. Since it was early, there weren’t that many students loitering around. My reputation at the academy wasn't particularly great, so walking into another king’s territory wasn't a good idea, hence I reached out to Casper.

As I continued on the walkway, I suddenly felt a strange presence behind me.

“I thought you were expelled. Why are you still around?” a familiar voice called out from behind, prompting me to turn around, only to find no one there.

She's behind me?

Seeing this, an idea popped into my mind, and I immediately activated one of my skills.

[Blink +1.32]

My vision changed instantly, and I found myself standing behind someone, my index finger pointed at the nape of their neck as if I were holding a gun.

"?!"

She quickly spun around, her expression shaken as she met my eyes. The girl had long, flowing black hair that fluttered even in the weak morning breeze, and an air of superiority unfit for a mere child.

"How did you..." she murmured in a barely audible tone.

Student council president, Shiro Leyvil.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” I said, ignoring her question. Hearing my dry response, she quickly regained her composure and replied,

“You're the one who said I shouldn't show myself until you finished talking to that boy.” She shot back, and I simply shrugged in response. I was the one who called her here in the first place, so I couldn't really scold her.

“I didn't think you'd agree to meet me,” I said, and she simply shrugged as she started to walk ahead. Seeing this, I quickly followed, walking beside her as I took out a second envelope from my blazer. This one was much smaller than the brown envelope I'd given Casper and was a different color—pure white

“Is that some kind of love letter?” she asked, glancing at it. I simply smiled at her, not saying anything back.

“Sorry, but I'm not interested,” she said flatly, her expression unchanged. Though I wasn't planning on giving it to her, the rejection still stung a bit.

“Sorry, it's not for you.” I handed her the envelope and she took it, looking a bit confused. After flipping it over and seeing the name, her expression changed to one of surprise.

“Are you serious?” she asked back. The name written on the envelope was the same as the one I had given Casper.

“What, do you have a problem with my preferences?” I said to her, and she quickly shook her head.

“No, not really. I just never pictured the two of you seeing face to face. Have you ever talked to her before? Doesn't this kind of thing require more than just outward appearances and stuff?” She tried to gauge my intentions, as if the idea of anyone being interested in that girl was beyond her comprehension. I looked at her, debating whether to remind her she had zero experience in these matters, or that Ian had no respect for any of her opinions. Both were valid points, but I chose to hold back for now.

“You seem to have quite a strong image of her. Does it bother you that I'm probably just going to use her and throw her away?” I said casually, smiling. Her expression suddenly turned serious as she stopped walking and looked at me suspiciously.

“What exactly are you trying to do? You're obviously trying to get into my head. Is this some kind of strategy to take me down?” she asked, giving me a bored look, as if disappointed. With my current skill level, a fight between the two of us would likely end in severe injuries and a lot of missing limbs.

However, our ranks were still 'low' on the spectrum, so healing magic would patch us up pretty easily. The higher your rank, the purer your mana becomes, but that also comes with its downsides. On one hand, you're able to inflict critical wounds on your opponents because your mana becomes so pure that it can directly damage their mana, which normally shouldn’t be possible.

A person’s mana can only be altered by themselves or, in rare cases, by someone whose authority involves directly manipulating it. Of course, there is an exception: the natural mana surrounding us. Since everyone subconsciously uses the natural mana around them to recover their own, there’s a high degree of compatibility between it and everyone else in the world.

The main reason for this can be summed up in two words: 100% purity.

This brings us back to people with a higher purity of mana, allowing them to damage other people’s mana with their own because their mana is able to manipulate its wavelength and match it with their opponent’s, inflicting not only physical damage but also damage to their mana. This usually happens subconsciously in the heat of battle, but there’s one huge problem: if a healer tries to inject their mana into you, your mana will shift its wavelength and choose to defend against it, regardless of whether or not there’s any killing intent behind it.

This significantly slows down the healing process, and in worse cases, the healer can exhaust themselves injecting mana while the wound shows zero change. This is why losing limbs and sustaining critical injuries in a fight between lower ranks isn't a huge concern; the healing process, while it may take time, is manageable.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

As such, very few people in the world can heal those above B rank, and among them, one stands at the pinnacle—not because he is the strongest, but because he possesses the highest purity of mana, much higher than even those considered stronger than him: Dr. Telu Andres Ofraion.

That man might become an obstacle in executing this plan.

I shrugged as I replied,

“You seem to think highly of yourself. Is it your name written on that envelope?” I shot back, but she quickly retorted,

“It's not. But you chose me to deliver it. And let me guess, you also don't want me to tell her this letter is from you?” she said, looking at me suspiciously.

She's sharp.

Most would think sending an intermediary to deliver a letter meant you were too scared to face the person yourself. Jumping to the conclusion that someone used an intermediary because they didn't want to be identified was a huge leap in logic. It showed she had a different way of looking at things. I nodded as I replied,

“Right. Even if she asks, don't tell her it's from me, at least for now. How did you know I don't want her to know it's me?” I asked curiously, trying to understand her thought process. I added "for now" to make it seem like I intended to approach her eventually, but Shiro seemed to have her own ideas.

“It's simple,” she said, raising the envelope and pointing it at me. “This isn't a love letter.”

“You haven't even seen what's inside,” I shot back, not admitting to her claim, but she stood her ground and continued.

“Tim is the only other second-year you're rumored to know, so he could've done this delivery instead of me. In fact, with your notoriety, you could've used any first-year student to deliver this letter. But you chose me—someone influential who wouldn't easily be bullied into revealing who sent it. You’re saying I shouldn't tell her even if she asks, which implies that whatever is written here might prompt her to press strongly about who it's from. I doubt a simple love letter could spark that kind of reaction from her.” She explained, her words sounding confident despite being purely speculative.

I guess if someone knew that girl well, they might have reached a similar conclusion. A typical love letter from an unknown sender would probably end up in the trash, so it didn’t make sense to explicitly instruct her not to reveal the sender unless whatever was in the letter could prompt that kind of curiosity. Of course, this assumption only held if the sender knew the type of person she was, and still used this approach. I should've been given the benefit of the doubt, but it seemed that Shiro’s "courtroom" was a bit unfair. Besides, if the goal was just to deliver a message, one could simply send an anonymous email, but I had a reason for not doing that.

As I thought about this, I scoffed and went on,

“That sounds like a wonderful novel. Did you stay up all night reading it? None of what you said proves anything. I chose you simply because you're a girl. And I don't want her to find out because I'm not ready to face her. Simple, right?” I said, shooting down her logic with basic reasons anyone would give. She looked at me, contemplating whether to say what she had in mind, but eventually gave in.

“That building is one of the girls’ dorms, which also happens to be where she's staying. The boy you sent won’t be allowed to go upstairs, so you likely sent him to deliver that envelope to the receptionist with specific instructions to both of them. The letter you just gave me will lead her to that envelope. Am I right?” she said, now showing a small smile. Logically, it made sense, but realistically, it sounded like complete fiction.

Although curfew had ended, restrictions remained for entering the opposite gender's dorms. Between 5:00 am, when curfew ended, and 8:00 am, when classes officially began, entry was still limited. It made sense he'd be confined to the ground floor, only able to speak with the receptionist. But there was another possibility she'd overlooked: what if he was just meeting a friend to walk to class together?

“I think you should lend me that novel you've been reading. I feel like I’m missing out,” I said with a smile, turning my attention back to the dormitory building in question, which was now barely visible from our vantage point. She followed my line of sight, noticing Casper leaving with two blue-haired girls by his side, and to her surprise, he still held the brown envelope.

“Mmh. That doesn’t prove anything. You could've hidden the actual letter inside the brown envelope and told him to remove it and return with the empty envelope. And those girls—you could’ve instructed them beforehand to only leave when he arrived. They're your friends, after all. You could've also just given one of them the envelope to pass to him when he arrived.”

“You're starting to sound delusional,” I shot back with a shrug. It seemed like she would come up with reasons for even the smallest things I pointed out.

“Call it whatever you want, but there's one thing I don’t understand. You already knew I’d figure out most of this, so I’m sure it’s also part of your scheme. You gave me enough clues to lead me to this conclusion, while also placing landmines that would blow up and invalidate my analysis only after I shared it out loud, which was meant to make me doubt myself while making me sound like a complete lunatic for not retracting my words. Mmmmh,” she said, eyeing me suspiciously.

With how everything went down, it did look like all her points were being invalidated one by one after she’d confidently stated them out loud. Usually, a person would start to think they were wrong, since to the other party, it would just look like they were arguing for the sake of arguing. But Shiro stood her ground, embracing the title of "lunatic" and sticking with her words.

Seeing this, I shrugged it off as I spoke, “Don't strain your brain trying to remember last night's novel. You can tell me all about it next time. So, will you do me this favor?” I said, still referring to her claims as fiction and disregarding them completely.

“What makes you think I won’t open this letter? That's why you didn’t ask Tim to deliver it, isn’t it? He’d probably open it right in front of you and read it out loud,” she said, as if recalling a bad memory. It did sound like something he’d do, and I imagined he’d probably give the letter back to me and refuse to deliver it afterwards. As I thought this, I eyed the suspicious Shiro and spoke up,

“That’s your choice to make. However, I suspect five second-year students will die if you read it,” I said casually. Her expression didn't change as she quickly shot back.

“Is that a threat? I can read it right now and restrain you where you stand,” she threatened, looking me in the eyes as if daring me to agree. Seeing this, I acted surprised and asked,

“Heh. You don’t have the authority to do that,” I said to her in a scornful tone.

“You’re a suspended student. My powers as a member of the Student Council allow me to do that,” she explained, touching the hilt of her sword with one hand.

“Eh, you’re serious? I didn’t know they had such a system in place. I can’t wait to be president soon,” I casually replied, causing a tired sigh to leave her lips, as if she were finally giving in.

“Sigh. I'll give it to her. Anything else?” she said, looking as though she was already over it.

“Nothing much. I’ll come by the cafeteria at lunch, so maybe I’ll drop by the student council room if I have time.”

I had a meeting with the other class leaders, so I decided to host it in the cafeteria during lunchtime. Hearing my response, she looked at me for a few seconds before finally speaking up.

“I see. So you want me to tell her she might find her ‘secret admirer’ in the cafeteria if she presses me for questions?”

Too damn sharp.

I tried to hint at it in a natural manner, but it seemed she was able to see right through me. I wanted to give her this little escape so that if the recipient desperately pressed her for answers, she might subtly 'hint' at the sender being in the cafeteria at lunch time. I said it in the most indirect way possible, yet she connected the dots so quickly and effortlessly.

A woman’s intuition?

I thought to myself, reminiscing about the past. The Director of the [Strategic Table] was also a woman, currently holding the title of 'greatest tactician to have ever lived,' which was incredible considering she had never personally participated in a large-scale war, unlike historical tacticians who demonstrated their great feats through warfare.

The enigma of talent.

I didn’t particularly enjoy comparing myself to my comrades, but at some point during the war, I began to see myself as the superior strategist among everyone at the table, including their leader. Alas, such a claim can only be proven in a head-on confrontation.

“Well, I never said you should do that, but do whatever you want as long as you keep my name out of your mouth,” I finally said with a shrug, making light of her comment, but she didn't seem concerned.

She will carry out my instructions, regardless.

The reason was as simple as any she'd given herself in the past: Why not?

'Calculated curiosity'—the cat that observes from the sidelines as curiosity claims yet another victim, and for the cat, another life is gained.

Afterward, I decided to make a U-turn and head back to my room. That was pretty much all I needed to do to find out if the Giant Killer was indeed involved via [False Peace]. The strategy seemed very simple, but it would achieve multiple objectives simultaneously.

It would also serve as an indirect message to [False Peace]. How they choose to interpret it would affect my future, both at the academy and beyond.

Now, I wait...