——Yes, I’ve done what you asked.
“Alright,” Vanitas said, listening to Yves through the communication crystal. “Do whatever you want with it. But I’d prefer if you burned it.”
Yves had moved to Valenora and registered as a physician at the Government Hospital.
With official validation as Vanitas Astrea’s doctor, it wasn’t hard for him to request Vanitas’s medical records from his hospitalization a few months ago. He took both the originals and the copies.
——It’s better to keep them. Helps me track your health. But, alright.… So, you lost an arm a few months back, huh?
“It’s been reattached. Works fine,” Vanitas said, swinging his arm around.
The reattachment was possible through Aether essence, but the process required more than just magic.
Just as hospitals couldn’t treat what they didn’t understand, doctors needed deep knowledge of biology—cells, tissues, muscles—and the methods to restore a severed limb.
Soliette had studied medicine herself to understand the process, after all. It was a needed skill for mages to understand the basics of healing in case of certain events.
“Anyway, how’s the expansion going?”
——Wouldn’t call it an expansion. But it’s better than that shabby place I used to run.
Yves had grown from a small clinic to a proper medical center. He wasn’t accepting patients yet, besides Vanitas—but things seemed to be going well.
“Alright. Let me know if you need anything.”
—Your next test is next week. Come early. I have plans in the evening.
“Got it.”
…..
“I can’t believe I have to repeat myself. I’m not entertaining anything. Aren’t you tired? Just get lost.”
For the past few weeks, ever since returning from Mori Forest, investigators had been after Vanitas, requesting his presence.
“We understand, Lord Astrea,” one of them said. “But you know the nature of this case—”
“And you know my stance. I passed out during the entire ordeal. Is this how I’m treated after protecting my students alone from an Archdemon?”
Vanitas narrowed his eyes as he reached for his car door.
“No, after protecting the Imperial Princess?”
“There’s no need to be defensive, Lord Astrea. We only want a—”
“A statement? Seems to me like I’m being accused of something. If you really wanted a statement, you’d be questioning the other servants, not me.”
The investigator hesitated, exchanging glances with his colleagues.
“Lord Astrea, this isn’t an accusation. We just need clarity on what happened that night. Surely, you’ve noticed something. Anything that points to a dark mage.”
Vanitas scoffed. “Then stop wasting your time on me. I told you—I was unconscious. A dark mage? Go ask the servants. And don’t even think about suspecting my students.”
The investigator let out a sigh. “We’re only trying to confirm—”
“Confirm what? That I was unconscious? That I fought an Archdemon? That I protected the Imperial Princess?” Vanitas shifted the conversation. “I already gave you my answer.”
“….”
The investigator stayed silent for a moment before nodding.
“….Understood, Lord Astrea. But if we need further clarification—”
“You won’t. Now, get lost before I’ll file all of you for harassment.”
Vanitas pulled open the car door. The investigators watched but said nothing as he got in and slammed the door shut. Bang—!
Their suspicions weren’t unfounded. He couldn’t blame them for thinking something was off—especially considering the original Vanitas’s actions.
“Tsk.”
Wesley’s murder had thrown off his plans. He had an idea who had done it, but hadn’t expected it would happen.
Rubbing his temple, he let out a sigh.
‘Do I have to look into this too? Do I have to study every detail? Every connection?’
He already had too much on his plate.
“Tsk.”
He clicked his tongue again.
‘As long as I’m careful. As long as I account for every variable, no matter how small. 0.1, even 0.001. Even 0.0001.’
Caution was his only obsession—to the point where it was getting harder to sleep at night.
“Tsk. Tsk.”
All for the sake of survival.
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.”
——Is something wrong, Lord Astrea?
His driver, Evan, glanced at him through the rearview mirror.
“It’s nothing. Just drive.”
As the car moved, his communication crystal rang in his pocket.’
Click—
“Yes?”
——It’s been approved, Professor Astrea.
It was Elder Tristan.
——Would you like it published under your brand? It would help with exposure.
Evidence that the thesis was a work of a student under the author of Astrea Magic Worldview.
“Of course.”
Finally, some good news.
* * *
Vanitas stood in the middle of the festival. It had started yesterday, but he decided to come today—the second day.
There were many outsiders, but as per the rules, only relatives or alumni could visit.
——Freshly baked pastries! Get them while they’re warm!
——Magic show! Actual magic show with no mana involved!
——Archery challenge! Hit the bullseye and win a prize!
The festival was packed with freshmen. Clubs, organizations, and even fraternities were selling their merchandise. There weren’t many restrictions on what kind of booths could be set up, as long as nothing illegal was involved.
In any case, the play was scheduled for 7:00 P.M. Charlotte was probably rehearsing in the theater.
At the moment, it was nearly 2:00 P.M.
Vanitas had just finished his quota of arranged dates. Of course, they had all ended in rejection.
——Can you land a hit on me in under one minute?!
A loud voice rang out.
——Entry fee: 1,000 Rend! If you hit me within the time limit, you’ll win ten times the amount!
Vanitas turned toward the source. It seemed to be a club run by Crusade department first-year students. A few people showed interest, but no one had stepped forward yet.
Then, suddenly….
——Wait, isn’t that Margaret Illenia?!
——From the Crusade of the Round Table?!
Recognition flashed across people’s faces. The crowd started to gather by the table—where Margaret sat, managing the entries.
“She used herself as marketing, huh?”
——I’ll give it a shot!
——Yes, nice to meet you!
She even matched their excitement.
The first challenger was a third-year student, likely trying to impress Margaret.
To make things more appealing, the announcer introduced the challenger—a first-year student.
——During the festival, visit the Geom Sword club at Athen Hall! Experience swordsmanship and grab some souvenirs! If you’re lucky, you might even meet Margaret Illenia like you are now! She’s returning to her Order duties next month. This is your last chance!
“Is this her idea…?”
But under normal circumstances, a first-year shouldn’t be able to overpower a third-year, even if aura wasn’t allowed. It was pure swordsmanship.
“Ah.”
Never mind. Maybe he did have a chance.
The challenger was none other than Kylian Bappe—the top first-year student in the Crusade Department.
“Oh?”
After the first challenger, the third-year, failed to land a hit in under a minute, more students stepped forward to try.
Kylian’s defense was solid—one of the best in the entire Crusade Department.
“Interesting.”
An idea crossed his mind. If there was ever a perfect time, it was now—especially with so many alumni on campus.
Vanitas stepped forward.
“Oh, Vanitas?”
Margaret, who seemed to be in the middle of a fan-signing event, looked up and met his gaze.
“Let me try.”
“You?” She looked surprised. “Are you sure? There’s no protective gear, you know?”
“It’s fine.”
“Magic isn’t allowed either.”
“I won’t use magic.”
“Alright.”
“I have a condition, though. Is it allowed, considering I’m a mage?”
“…?”
Margaret tilted her head before responding.
“What is it?”
“If I win, I want Margaret Illenia to treat me to lunch after this.”
“Ah?”
——Huh?
——Wait, isn’t that Professor Vanitas?
A mixed reaction spread across the crowd, reacting as if he had just said something outrageous.
Margaret thought for a moment, then shrugged.
“Well, I was about to grab a bite after this anyway. Why not?”
A grin tugged at her lips—like she was already expecting him to lose.
If Chae Eun-woo were still just a player, he wouldn’t have missed the chance to see Vanitas Astrea get beaten either. That smug, arrogant noble who had been on a winning streak lately.
“Alright.”
Vanitas paid the entrance fee and was handed a single piece of equipment.
A wooden sword. That was it.
“Nice to meet you, Professor Vanitas. I’ve heard about you from my brother in the Magic Department,” Kylian said.
“Is that so?” Vanitas said, testing the wooden sword around for a few swings.
He had no real formal sword training. But after countless replays in the game, he had fought more swordmasters than he could count. Even the strongest of them all, Aston Nietzsche.
There were certain ways to counter a skilled swordsman.
“Shall we start?”
“Yes.”
——Look! It’s Professor Vanitas! He’s holding a sword!
——What?! No way! We have to see this!
A crowd quickly gathered, eager to watch the professor holding a sword. That same professor had been a hot topic in aristocratic circles lately.
“One minute, Professor,” Kylian said before turning to a club member. “Start the timer.”
Kylian had been nothing but polite the whole time.
“Three. Two. One. Begin!”
But as soon as the countdown ended, Vanitas caught the subtle grin forming on Kylian’s face. Of course, despite the recent notable achievements, Vanitas Astrea was still infamous for being strict in his lectures.
For a student, the chance to legally challenge a professor was too good to pass up. Even if it wasn’t his own instructor, no one would miss the opportunity.
Bang!
Kylian kicked off the ground, closing the distance in an instant. Their swords clashed. Vanitas managed to parry, but the force behind the blow sent a ripple of impact up his arm. Kylian wasn’t the top student for nothing.
Bang! Bang!
The cracking sound of wood against wood echoed through the air. Vanitas was steadily being pushed back.
There was a clear boundary—once crossed, it would mark the loser. And right now, Kylian was forcing him dangerously close to it.
No magic.
That was the rule.
And to use magic in the first place, would need an incantation. It was noticeable, so it was impossible for a mage to cheat.
But Vanitas was no ordinary mage.
The ability to fine-tune the mana output of any spell was the greatest advantage of his stigmata. He could even lower it to the bare minimum, completely avoiding detection.
Bang!
One of a Crusader’s biggest weaknesses was their tendency to underestimate mages in close combat.
It was even a common strategy drilled into them during training, ‘Mages are weak up close. Close the distance as soon as possible.’
Something like that.
Kylian was likely more confident now since Vanitas was within his field of expertise.
But that assumption could be turned against him.
Swoosh——!
A controlled gust of wind countered the weight of Kylian’s swings. Just enough to compensate for the difference in speed.
Bang! Bang!
“Ugh,” Kylian grunted, surprised by the sudden shift in power.
——Wow~!
——To think Professor Vanitas is actually good with a sword too?
—— Is that even possible?
Of course, shifting the weight and speed of his swings alone wasn’t enough to win against skill. But subtle manipulation could tilt the fight in his favor.
Vanitas had used this strategy before, back when he was a player. It was especially useful when he attempted no-hit challenges.
A small burst of wind to nudge Kylian’s blade off-course, making his swings slightly unbalanced.
A near-invisible layer of earth magic beneath his boots to alter his footing by just a fraction of an inch.
Tiny droplets of water magic, camouflaged as sweat, trickling into his eyes.
It was cheating. But in the most refined, undetectable way possible.
“Shit—!” Kylian cursed, stepping back as he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision.
Before he realized it, Vanitas was already upon him.
A sudden gust from below made Kylian feel lighter—just for a moment—before the force of gravity returned in full, making his balance waver slightly.
“The hell is—”
And then Vanitas struck.
Bang!
…..
“You cheated, didn’t you?” Margaret frowned as they walked through the halls.
“How would I do that?” Vanitas asked, feigning ignorance.
“It doesn’t make sense,” she insisted. “I trained Kylian myself. How could he lose to you in a sword fight?”
“No idea. But a bet is a bet. You lost.”
Margaret pursed her lips. “You should be the one treating me… You’re the one who won the money.”
Vanitas ignored her and continued walking. Without another word, they made their way to the food stalls.
…..
As an alumnus, Clevius wouldn’t miss the chance to attend the festival, especially with their leader, Margaret, on campus.
He waited for her shift to end, like a puppy eager for its owner to return home.
Beside him stood two fellow members of the Crusade Order, Johanna and Alex.
“Did you see him? Lord Franz?” Johanna asked excitedly. “Ah, he’s so handsome. I only saw him once when I was younger, but he looks like he hasn’t aged at all!”
Alex sighed. “You and half the women on campus. I swear, every time he shows up, the entire place goes wild.”
“Shut up, baldy!”
“What did you just—?!”
As Johanna and Alex bickered, something suddenly caught Clevius’s attention.
“Huh….”
His mouth hung open. The churro he had been chewing slipped from his fingers and hit the ground.
Across the food stalls, Margaret Illenia sat at a table, casually eating with someone who, for some reason, irritated Clevius to no end.
They seemed deep in conversation.
“….”
A few moments later, Margaret stood up and walked away—likely heading to the bathroom.
Clevius didn’t hesitate. He got to his feet.
“Where are you going?”
Johanna asked but Clevius just ignored her, making his way toward Vanitas Astrea.
“Hey.”
Vanitas looked up, meeting his gaze. “And you are?”
“We need to talk.”
* * *
“I’m asking you,” Clevius said. “Stay away from Miss Margaret. She has enough on her plate already.”
He had dragged Vanitas into an empty hallway, ensuring no one else was around to overhear.
Clevius’s resentment toward Vanitas Astrea wasn’t baseless.
Back when he was a first-year, he had been on the verge of failing his class. If that happened, he would lose his scholarship and be forced to return to the countryside.
But it all changed when he met Margaret Illenia, a third-year senior at the time.
Then on a certain day, he had witnessed Margaret’s despair.
She had suffered an injury that forced her to retake the entire year, losing her scholarship in the process. On top of that, she had just lost her father—someone she hadn’t even been able to mourn properly as she was comatosed during his funeral.
Burdened by financial struggles, she had to take on multiple part-time jobs just to continue her education and finally graduate.
And Clevius knew—more or less—who was responsible.
The other seniors, those who had been with Margaret during that exam, had all pointed to the same person.
Vanitas Astrea.
The man who had abandoned them.
“Is that all?” Vanitas asked, his expression blank.
Clevius scoffed. “Is that all…? I’m telling you—just leave her alone. You’re not a good influence on her. One day, you’ll hurt her again. Just like everyone else in your life.”
“…”
Vanitas remained neutral, but that particular line struck a nerve.
“I know what you’ve done,” Clevius continued. “You pretend not to recognize me, but I know you do. You may have been able to threaten me in the past, but not anymore.”
“….”
In the game, there was always an option to remain quiet during dialogue. This felt like the right moment to do so. Information was key. Before stirring up a hornet’s nest, it was best to come prepared.
“One day, you’ll become a threat,” Clevius declared. “Not just to her—but to our entire Crusade Order.”
Indeed, he knew more than he was letting on.
Yet, despite that, Vanitas couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Me? Destroy your Crusade Order?” He laughed. “You should take a good look in the mirror.”
It was simple, really.
Because Clevius was the traitor who would push Margaret into depression.
And eventually…. her death.
“What are you—”
“Do you know what they call me these days?” Vanitas interrupted.
“….”
Clevius fell silent, watching him carefully.
“They call me a genius. A demon hunter. The man who revolutionized speed-casting. An Imperial Professor candidate.”
“I don’t care about your—”
Vanitas cut him off, reaching for Clevius’s tie. It was crooked, and stained with what looked like mayonnaise.
“And what do you have?” Vanitas asked.
A small grin crept up Vanitas’s lips as he fixed Clevius’s tie.
“A man who barely scraped through graduation. A knight serving a poorly established Crusade Order, composed of children who lack proper respect and discipline A commoner. No name, no status. You can’t even wear your tie properly, yet you dress like a noble—clinging to the hope that she might notice you.”
“….”
Vanitas finished fixing the tie, then narrowed his eyes.
“You talk like you’re above me. Like you can threaten me. But the truth is—you’ll never be me.”
Despite being a foot shorter, Vanitas seemed to tower over him.
“Sure, I’ve made mistakes. But I move forward. Look at me now. And look at you. Trapped in the past, clinging to a narrative that justifies your anger, pointing your blade at a man who’s only trying to be better.”
Tak——!
With that, Vanitas stepped past him.
Clevius didn’t move. His face seemed to darken.
“That’s all a commoner like you will ever be,” Vanitas muttered.
Clevius clenched his fists. His entire body tensed, but Vanitas didn’t even spare him a glance as he walked away.
“You know,” Vanitas paused. “People like you remind me of pigs in a pen.”
“….”
Clevius didn’t respond, but Vanitas could feel his glare burning into his back.
“A pig can clean itself, learn a few tricks, even walk among men for a while…. but it never stops being a pig. No matter how much it tries to change, no matter how much perfume it wears or how fine the clothes it puts on, in the end, it still rolls in the mud. Because that’s what it is.”
Vanitas stopped, then turned slightly, just enough to meet Clevius’s eyes.
“And that’s you, Clevius.”
“….”
The words struck like a knife.
“You pretend to be noble. You wear their clothes, act like you belong, and convince yourself that your anger is righteous. But at the end of the day, you’re still a pig trying to be something you’re not. And pigs like you?”
Vanitas let out a soft chuckle.
“They always end up in the slaughterhouse.”
Clevius’s breath hitched. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.
Vanitas noticed, but he didn’t care.
“Go ahead,” he said. “Prove me right. Strike me down.”
“….”
“The one who will ruin your Crusade Order…. isn’t me.”
He took a step forward.
“It’s you.”
With those final words, Vanitas disappeared down the hallway, footsteps fading into the distance.
“….”
Clevius remained frozen in place, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms.
…..
Vanitas walked through the halls, feeling his head buzz. For a moment there, it felt like Chae Eun-woo had slipped away.
But in the end, everything had gone as planned. The provocation was set.
He was well aware Clevius was on campus, which was precisely why he had Margaret accompany him throughout the festival—ensuring Clevius would see them together.
“Now, just act like the filthy dark mage you are.”
Because Clevius was a knight who had dabbled in dark magic, trained under none other than Aldred, the Mage Killer.
As Vanitas walked, he suddenly stopped.
“….”
He was here, standing right before him.
“Are you perhaps Vanitas Astrea?”
Franz Barielle Aetherion.