In the cafeteria, during the free period between classes…

Damian, Tisha and Cycelia stand in the short line for food. Normally packed with students to the brim point of nigh-overcrowding, the dining hall is remarkably empty, and surprisingly quiet. The number of workers behind the long counter appears to have been decimated, and only the youngest ones remain. The most senior one directing them can't be older than merely a few years than the rest, and they all meander around the kitchen, fumbling and hesitating what to do next without the guidance of the missing, older workers.

It takes much longer than usual for the three to receive their food and pay, but ironically, due to the shorter queue, it also is faster all in all. They weave past the scarce students in their way, and go take a seat at their usual table.

「Eh? Tisha, you're not going to sit with us?」

Cycelia asks with her brows raised in surprise as Tisha remains standing behind them.

「No. I'm going to take this to Neela. Don't wait for me.」

She replies, and heads for the exit.

「Huh? Okay…」

Cycelia nods, and briefly watches Tisha as she's walking away, before turning her eyes to her wooden tray on the table. She takes the fork into her hand, then idly stares at her food with a glum expression on her face.

「Nnhhh…」

With his eyes closed, Damian lets out a pained sigh. He holds his face by mostly his fingertips with one hand, and a fork in the other. Wincing, his brows are heavily wrinkled.

「Damian?… Are you okay?…」

Cycelia asks, leaning forward a little to see his handsome face better.

「…I'm fine. I just have a bad headache. I barely slept today.」

After letting out another sigh, Damian replies as he opens his eyes, and takes his hand away from his face. He pokes the pile of mashed potatoes with his fork, but ends up only pensively staring down at his tray.

「…Is it that bad?」

She furrows her brows, and her lips turn to a frown.

「No, the headache and me not sleeping are unrelated… Well, mostly…」

「Mostly?」

「Yeah… I was thinking about something last night… Something really important. It was a really small detail, but it was bothering me the whole night, so I couldn't sleep until I'd figure it out.」

He nods, digging through the potatoes with his fork as he explains, deep in thought, and visibly in pain.

「What was it then?」

Cycelia asks, and Damian lets out an exasperated sigh, placing his palm on his face again.

「…I actually dozed off and can't remember. Now this damn headache is bothering me, so it's hard to even think- Come to think of it, why are you alright?」

He asks, furrowing his brows at her. A little startled, Cycelia's eyes escape sideways towards nothing in particular in the empty dining hall.

「Ah. Er… Um… I'm just healthy, I guess…」

She shrugs, smiling awkwardly at him. After a brief, silent pause, he turns his attention back to his tray.

「Yeah, I guess that makes sense…」

Damian mutters out without much thought, staring at the dismantled potatoes. Then, he furrows his brows again, and begins rubbing his chin.

His hand stops as suddenly as it started, and he forks some potatoes into his mouth, nodding as he chews.

「Yeah, makes sense…」

He repeats, though seemingly being completely elsewhere with his mind as he blankly stares at the table, much to Cycelia's consternation.

「Hey. Since the loudmouth is missing… Do we call off the search for this break? It makes no sense for me to drag you along, and I want to see if I can sleep this headache off.」

Damian says, as stops eating and turns his eyes to Cycelia. He shrugs, looking at her with a weary face.

「If you're feeling bad, you shouldn't force yourself-」

「Just for this break. I still plan to take a look around after the classes.」

He cuts in, and clarifies. Cycelia nods.

「If you think it might help, go ahead, but don't force yourself. If you're feeling sick, you'll just make it worse.」

She replies, and slowly gets started on her food as well.

「Too much is at stake for me to throw my arms up and give up because of a headache. I just want to see if I can get rid of it, if only for long enough to remember what I was thinking about last night.」

Damian digs through the potatoes, and sighs, then resumes eating. This time, his eyes are actually focused on the food before him…

…

Around the same time, in the headmaster's office…

Straf opens the door and walks straight in, throwing it shut behind him.

Thud!

「I think it's time to make that call, old man… I saw something real fuckin' strange in the neighborhood.」

He says, approaching the headmaster's desk with his arms spread.

「Call?」

Corvus furrows his brows, and adjusts his glasses, staring at Straf with a slack-jawed, dumbfounded look on his face.

「Yeah, you-know-who… You've got a ghost problem in your school.」

Straf says, as he puts his hands in his pockets and stops in front of the desk. Corvus lets out an amused scoff with a toothy grin, but it quickly transforms into a brief coughing fit.

「…Ahem. Ghost? You're the last person, I'd expect to bring that up, Straf. I'd sooner think Professor Aria would burst in through the door, and start rambling about one.」

The headmaster looks up at Straf with weary eyes, and interlocks his fingers again.

「What, you see magic shit every day, but a ghost is too much for you?」

Straf asks, pointing his hand at the headmaster's tall window.

「You're the type of a guy to never say zombie in a zombie movie, huh?」

He adds, scoffing as he places his fists on his hips with a lightly amused grin.

「Wh-? Zombie movie?…」

Corvus furrows his brows, and lightly shakes his head in confusion, tilting it slightly as he looks at him.

「Listen, there seriously is a ghost. Do you know something about that?」

Straf asks, spreading his hands before returning them to his pockets, and the old mage begins brushing his beard with his fingers, thinking.

「…I've heard of a rumor going around about a ghost in the bathroom. Then I saw Ms. Redwing and her friends wandering the halls at night in search for a ghost… But…」

「But?…」

「…But ghosts simply do not exist, Straf. When something dies, its essence is freed. By ghost, you mean the theoretical loose essence bound to our world, correct?」

Corvus asks, spreading his hands.

「…I mean a ghost. A dead guy being angry about being murdered.」

Straf bluntly replies with a frustrated, tight-lipped expression on his face.

「Mu-? Murder? Why… Straf, there have been some… Questionable duels in the past, but I don't think ever in the history of the Academy of Magic there was a cold-blooded murder.」

The headmaster stammers at the mere suggestion, and explains, looking at him with a troubled gaze.

「That you have heard of.」

Straf sharply ripostes, and the two look at each other in brief silence.

「…Are you suggesting that this ghost is someone who has been murdered?」

Corvus asks in a grim tone with a serious expression on his face, and pensively rests his mouth on his interlocked fingers.

「Not just suggesting, I'm outright saying the little fucker is mad and vicious.」

「You've seen it?」

He asks, tilting his head in surprise.

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「Seen it? It tried to fucking kill me.」

Straf scoffs, briefly spreading his arms before returning his hands to his pockets.

「Well… I don't believe it's a ghost. There is no evidence of those…」

Corvus lets out a troubled sigh, and brushes his beard.

「But I am telling you-」

Audibly frustrated, Straf insists, but Corvus cuts in and continues.

「But… It does sound like a wraith.」

Th old mage hesitantly asks, looking up into Straf's eyes with a serious expression.

「…And what's the difference?」

Straf shrugs after a brief pause.

「A ghost is the theoretical loose essence of someone deceased. There is no way or reason for the essence to remain in our world on death. However… That is not necessarily true for everything else.」

「Everything else? Like what?」

「Thoughts. Memories. Feelings… Grudges. Have you ever heard of eternal battlefields, Straf?」

「No, but that sounds like a metal twist on the military-industrial complex. A war on drugs on drugs.」

Straf shrugs with a blunt reply.

「Eternal battlefields are remnants of history. Strong feelings like fear, anger, hate, and others can linger about sometimes, especially if they involve death…」

Corvus says, and adjusts his glasses.

「…Sometimes, due to natural fluctuations of mana, these memories materialize into a visible form, and under certain conditions, even into a semi-physical one. This is where this phenomenon draws its name from-」

「Hold on, is another one of the long ones?」

Straf stops Corvus and asks, pointing his palm towards him.

「…It may take a moment.」

He replies, shrugging his shoulders. Straf then pulls the visitor's chair out, and takes a seat, placing his boots on the desk.

「Ahem… Ethereal soldiers fight each other in battles that they do not know have been long won or lost. They have no mind of their own, but they may act like they do. They do not even classify as beings, really.」

Corvus continues, spreading his hands as he explains the concept.

「Wraiths, on the other hand, are constructs of primarily negative emotions. Grudges, hatred, envy… It's almost a prerequisite for a wraith to materialize, there must be powerful negative feelings.」

He says, and swivels away from his desk, cautiously climbing up his stairs to the window with a labored breath.

「…Just like eternal battlefields, they are sentient, but not sapient. They can react to their environment, and even think, so to say, in a limited capacity, but that is a large mental shortcut…」

Corvus continues, looking at the city below while Straf precariously rocks in his chair with his arms crossed.

「It would be more accurate to say that they act on reflexes of their memories and feelings. This is why wraiths are particularly dangerous… They may kill at random, because the victim seems like the target of their grudge.」

He adds, and grows silent.

「…So, is it possible that the thing trying to kill me was a wraith, then?」

Straf asks, still nonchalantly rocking in the visitor's chair.

「…Quite possibly so, yes. Where did you run into it?」

Corvus nods, looking at him over his shoulder.

「All over the fucking place. I've felt a weird presence watching me for a long while now, and it turns out it was that fucker all along.」

「Presence?」

「Yeah. Do you not ever get a feeling like someone is watching you do something over your shoulder? Or that someone is standing in the corner of your vision? That kind of thing.」

Straf throws his hands up before crossing his arms again. Corvus strokes his beard in deep thought, and after a few moments, begins to descend back down the stairs.

「…So it was a wraith all along? But why now?…」

He mumbles as he sits down, blankly staring downward while he swivels forward, brushing through his beard the whole time.

「…Is it possible the wraith did this? All of it?」

Straf asks, spreading his arms with a serious expression.

「…There is no certainty… Although it is beginning to look like it.」

Corvus stops his beard-brushing, and looks at Straf from above his spectacles with an intense gaze.

「So, what the fuck do I do? I hit it with a windbolt, or rather, I tried to hit it with a windbolt. It didn't do shit. I think I broke a window, though. Whoops.」

「Elemental magic like that will not work. Only pure mana and raw energy has any chance to disrupt it enough for it not to reform… Although…」

The headmaster says, and his voice trails off in audible hesitation as he rubs white mustache with his fingers.

「Although? What?」

「…Although, being semi-physical… Well… To put it plainly, physical damage would work as well.」

Corvus adds, spreading his hands before interlocking his fingers with a troubled expression on his face.

「What!? You mean I can just chop the fucking thing up with my sword!?-」

Thud.

Outraged, Straf exclaims, almost falling backwards in his chair as he grips onto the desk. The old mage shakes his head, pointing his palm towards him.

「…Not necessarily, Straf. Being a construct of negative memories, if the wraith knows the bite of a sword, certainly, the pain and fear of death would work against it… But if it doesn't…」

Corvus calmly explains, once again interlocking his fingers while he stares into Straf's eyes.

「…Then what?」

「…Then it would be suicide. I strongly advise against attempting something so daring. You may only get one chance.」

The headmaster adds, then looks aside towards his drawers.

「By the way, Straf… Since you are here, I have this for you…」

He says, pulling out an envelope from one of the drawers, and holding out for Straf.

「…I have received a letter from Professor Arkeis with the help of none other than the queen herself. I do not like the fact that you have accused him of being behind this. He was very offended.」

Corvus explains, as Straf takes the envelope from his hand and looks at it with his brows lightly raised.

「So?」

Straf nonchalantly asks, shrugging with his hands.

「Straf…」

The old mage lets out an exasperated exhale, and briefly pinches his nose.

「…Professor Arkeis is an expert in his field. His knowledge covers a very specific niche, and is therefore very valuable to the Academy. I'd like you to go to him and apologize, and hand him that letter.」

He explains, spreading his hands and trying to conceal his frustration as much as possible. He then points his wrinkly hand at the envelope, and a brief silence begins.

Straf quickly opens the envelope, and casually begins reading through the letter.

「Don't just read it!…」

Corvus exclaims, spreading his arms in complete shocked disbelief and his mouth open in outrage before a short coughing fit takes him.

「Remember what I told you about the wax, old man?… It's boring, anyway.」

Straf says, and gets up from his chair with a long, tired sigh.

「What about the barrier? Suppose the wraith did it, and I shuffle off his immortal coil… What then? Barrier falls, everyone dies?」

He takes a few steps away from the desk towards the door, and partially turns around.

「…I don't believe the wraith subverted the barrier.」

Corvus quietly replies, interlocking his fingers again.

「What makes you say that?」

「…A hunch, Straf. That being said, if you find it again, notify me immediately. I will find a way to handle that eventuality.」

The headmaster says with a serious gaze beneath his bushy brows as he shrugs his robed shoulders. Straf shrugs back with a little grimace on his face, and heads out the door without a word more…