“Be honest with me, Vanitas. I’ve heard the reports. I don’t have all the details, but according to some professors, that play resembled a controversy that was swept under the rug a few years ago.”
“….”
Vanitas remained silent for a moment, trying to gauge Headmaster Elsa’s expression.
He had been summoned after she cross-checked reports with various staff members.
Elsa had only been appointed Headmaster a year ago, while the Arwen Ainsley incident occurred two years prior.
“So tell me,” Elsa continued. “There’s gossip going around that the Professor Valen character was based on you. Some are even saying the entire play was inspired by a true story.”
“….”
Vanitas sighed internally. He had expected this. After the play, the Drama Club had run into trouble with the faculty.
There were rumors, and some students—particularly third years—recognized the ending. To them, it seemed as if it referenced a past incident that had caused a stir in the university.
The club’s faculty advisor faced criticism for approving the script, though it wasn’t entirely their fault.
They hadn’t been aware of the full context, having joined the university after the incident had already been swept under the rug.
Fortunately, the mismanagement during the play’s execution helped obscure some of the more sensitive details. More than that, gossip among the students had only grown.
“….”
Vanitas eyed Elsa carefully. He knew this Headmaster held him in high regard, despite everything surrounding him. It was probably a teacher’s attachment to their student.
While he didn’t know the specifics, he knew Headmaster Elsa had been Vanitas Astrea’s professor in highschool.
Whether lies or truth, he was certain she would hear him out.
“There’s a simple way to resolve this,” he began. “But I know you have ethical concerns, Headmaster. So, firstly, will you listen to my story?”
Elsa leaned back in her chair, folding her hands together. “Go on. I’m listening.”
Vanitas took a deep breath.
“Two years ago….”
He recounted the story, mixing lies and half-truths in a way that painted him in a more favorable light. Subtle excuses and omissions were slipped in to smooth over the most damning parts of the narrative.
Elsa listened intently. Her expressions seemed to shift from shock to sorrow at different points in the tale.
“Oh, my….”
Vanitas watched her reactions carefully, ensuring his words had the desired impact.
“….I see.”
If Elsa had to sum it up, Vanitas had prevented Arwen from fully turning to dark magic while managing to preserve what little reputation she had left.
Elsa sighed deeply. “That truly is.… unfortunate. It sounds like a tragedy for everyone involved.”
Vanitas nodded slowly. “What do you think, Headmaster? Did I do the right thing?”
Elsa studied his face. He seemed to be deeply troubled by it. No, perhaps, he had been carrying this heavy burden this entire time.
“I’d say your method was… harsh. But as you mentioned, she couldn’t be reasoned with anymore. You were likely desperate, especially since you took on the allegations yourself.”
Vanitas remained silent for a moment as he listened intently.
“I didn’t have much of a choice at the time,” he finally said. “It was either that or let her destroy herself entirely.”
“I understand,” Elsa replied gently. “But you need to realize something. While you acted with good intentions, sometimes the weight of those choices will stay with you far longer than you expect. Have you…. come to terms with it?”
“…..I’m working on it.”
There was nothing to work on. The specifics were much more troublesome, but Elsa didn’t need to know that.
Elsa nodded. “Well, the past can’t be changed. But moving forward, if there’s anything that puts either you or your students in a similar situation, I expect transparency from you. I won’t tolerate any more secrets in this institution.”
“Understood, Headmaster.”
With that matter set aside, Elsa shifted the conversation.
“So, how do you plan on resolving this?” she asked.
“There’s precedence. A similar controversy occurred at another university last year.”
At that time, a professor was caught grooming a student. The professor was dismissed and blacklisted from every academic institution. Meanwhile, the student was placed under a protective program to ensure their well-being.
“If we shift the narrative to say that the play drew inspiration from that incident, it could be framed as an artistic message meant to address those issues and raise awareness.”
Elsa nodded slowly. “I see. That might deflect some of the gossip. People might see it as a social commentary rather than a reenactment of a university scandal. It could help reduce suspicion.”
“That’s the goal,” Vanitas said. “Of course, I’ll leave it to you to handle how we frame the announcement and control the messaging. I’ll cooperate fully with any inquiries.”
“We’ll need to brief the Drama Club as well,” Elsa added. “They should be on the same page if asked about the play’s origins.”
“Agreed.”
Elsa stood and offered a hand. “Good. I trust you’ll keep this under control.”
Vanitas shook her hand. “Of course, Headmaster.”
* * *
By the following week, the matter had settled down completely.
Most of the students had lost interest in the controversy.
The play was a hit, and whenever it came up in conversation, the focus was on how captivating the performance was—especially Charlotte’s role.
“….”
Charlotte wasn’t used to this kind of attention.
Eyes followed her wherever she went. Students seemed to whisper among themselves, and ever since the festival, male students kept trying to approach her.
“A-Ah…. Lunch? I… I don’t think it’s necessary to buy one for me….” Charlotte stammered, clearly uncomfortable as another student nervously made an offer.
Cassandra, noticing the atmosphere, cleared her throat loudly.
“Alright, enough of this. We’re going to be late for our classes if we keep standing around here,” she said.
The student hesitated for a moment before backing off with an awkward laugh.
“R-Right. Maybe another time!”
As the student walked away, Cassandra sighed and patted Charlotte on the shoulder.
“You’ve got to be firmer, Charlotte. These guys are going to keep bothering you otherwise.”
“I know… but I don’t want to be rude,” Charlotte replied, fidgeting with the edge of her notebook.
“Rude? They’re the ones being annoying! You’re way too nice.”
Charlotte gave a sheepish smile. “Maybe….”
With that, the two girls parted ways, heading to their respective classes.
* * *
“112… 113… Haah…!”
Ezra couldn’t take it anymore. He set the dumbbell down and sat up, panting heavily.
“Haa…. Haa….”
After a moment of rest, he continued with his remaining workouts before heading to the changing room.
As he stepped inside, he noticed Professor Vanitas, who had just finished his workout as well. Vanitas was in the middle of putting on his shirt.
“Professor,” Ezra said, acknowledging him with a nod.
Vanitas glanced at him and spoke, “Good timing, Ezra. After you’re done changing, meet me in lecture hall 303 in Ottoman Hall.”
“Ah?” Ezra blinked, confused.
“It’s about ‘that.'”
“Ah, I see.” Ezra nodded.
Without another word, Vanitas left the changing room. Ezra quickly changed into his uniform and made his way to Ottoman Hall.
Upon entering the empty lecture hall 303, he saw Vanitas already waiting near the podium.
“Good, you’re here,” Vanitas said. “Close the door.”
Ezra complied and quietly shut the door behind him.
“What’s this about, Professor?” he asked.
“Firstly, sit down.”
Ezra raised an eyebrow but dragged a seat in front of the podium and sat down.
“So, tell me,” Vanitas began, crossing his arms. “What do you plan on doing now?”
“Uh….” Ezra hesitated for a moment.
He knew this conversation was about ‘that,’ meaning his ambitions and possibly his recent actions.
This professor…. could he be trusted? Was it smart to confide in him, especially when he was an aristocrat?
Ezra’s mind flashed back to that night during the festival.
“….”
Vanitas had seemed to know everything, even the fact that Ezra was moments away from committing murder. And yet, no one had come after him. There had been no indictments, nor any consequences.
The professor had kept everything confidential, even when Ezra had been on the verge of doing something something considered as treason.
Could he be….?
“Professor,” Ezra began. “Before I answer your question, I want to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
Ezra nodded, taking a deep breath. “You’re an aristocrat, right? But whose side are you really on?”
Vanitas raised an eyebrow. “An interesting question. Why does it matter?”
“We were all equal once. But then the aristocracy system came along and divided everyone by hierarchy. Sure, these positions were earned in the past by the people who impacted the Empire’s foundations.”
“Go on.”
“Those ancestors helped the weak, the poor, and the unprivileged. They built a system that protected and nurtured the empire’s people. But now…”
Ezra’s eyes narrowed, thinking back to all the oppression he had seen.
“The descendants of those same families are the ones doing the oppressing. The very people they were meant to help are now beneath their boots. So I ask again. What’s your role in all of this? Are you like them?”
Vanitas remained silent for a moment, pondering on Ezra’s words. Moments later, he spoke.
“You’re not wrong. Many noble families have lost their way. They cling to power and wealth, and have forgotten the ideals their ancestors built the empire on. But not all of us are like that.”
“I know,” Ezra said, nodding. “I’ve seen it myself here at the university. People like the Princess are different. She’s…. surprising. But then again, that’s just a small part of the bigger picture. Most of them aren’t like her.”
“And where do you think I fit in that category?” Vanitas asked.
Ezra narrowed his eyes, rubbing his chin as he gave it some thought.
“You’re…. fair, I guess?”
Vanitas chuckled. Ezra didn’t know the full truth. Vanitas Astrea had engaged in predatory loans toward commoners who deserved it.
Still, it was still a form of oppression in its own way. Not that Ezra needed to know those details.
“From an academic standpoint, yes,” Vanitas said. “But if you were to ask me outside of that, I’d give you a neutral answer. I don’t take a stand on these minority issues.”
Ezra frowned slightly before shooting the question back. “Then what is your goal, Professor?”
“I simply want to live.”
That was the essence of humanity.
Life was a cycle of birth and death, but living it to the fullest…. that was the greatest challenge and achievement.
People chased wealth, power, and recognition, thinking those things gave life meaning.
But in the end, all anyone truly wanted was to survive and find moments of happiness in between the struggles.
“….”
But to Ezra, the answer felt underwhelming. A man without ambition might as well be dead.
Especially someone like the professor, who had all the resources and means to achieve any ambition he desired.
“Have you finished your assessment?” Vanitas asked, leaning back slightly.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Good. Now let me repeat my question,” Vanitas continued. “What do you plan on doing next?”
Ezra hesitated, carefully choosing his words. After a moment, he finally spoke.
“I wish to abolish the aristocracy system.”
“In other words, as you mentioned before, you want to join the parliament?”
“If that’s what it takes, then yes.”
Vanitas chuckled. Ezra Kaelus was a key figure in the mid-game’s main act. A man driven far back to the corner.
In the game’s storyline, he was known as Irene Barielle Aetherion’s right hand and a pivotal force in defeating the mid-game’s main boss, Imperial Prince Franz Barielle Aetherion.
No, at that point in the game’s narrative, Imperial Emperor Franz.
“Like I said before, I know things you know,” Vanitas said. “And I know things even you don’t.”
Ezra tensed slightly but nodded. “Yes.”
“Ezra Kaelus, your family was a victim of the 2004 Holocaust.”
“….”
Ezra’s breath hitched. His fists clenched tightly under the desk before he gave a stiff nod.
“….Yes.”
“And that’s what drives you, correct?”
“Yes.”
The 2004 Holocaust was an agenda petitioned by the nobility and approved by Imperial Prince Franz. It led to the mass genocide of an entire community of commoners, accused of harboring a dark mage.
Many families had lost their loved ones—cousins, aunts, uncles—all slaughtered in the massacre. But at that time, two-year-old Ezra had survived.
The sole survivor.
Silence settled in the room until Vanitas spoke.
“Come out.”
“Huh?” Ezra blinked in confusion.
Tak. Tak—!
Footsteps rang from behind him. Descending from the rows of seats, a man with cyan hair and yellow eyes walked into view.
“What is he…?” Ezra muttered, baffled.
“His goals seem to align with yours,” Vanitas said calmly.
“Him?” Ezra struggled to recall his name, but vaguely remembered a few brief interactions at the start of the school year.
“Isn’t that right, Silas?” Vanitas prompted.
“Something like that,” Silas replied with a shrug. “Though my ambition doesn’t exactly involve killing Imperial Prince Franz.”
Ezra’s brows furrowed. Silas had clearly been hiding and eavesdropping. After a moment, Ezra composed himself and turned to Vanitas.
“Isn’t he the guy who got suspended?”
“Still am.”
* * *
Dark mages.
Scattered and hidden, they were often seen as criminals or outcasts.
Some had escaped the perception of society, and had practiced forbidden arts in secret. Others were victims of circumstances, forced into dark magic out of desperation, only to later become criminals themselves.
People often asked the same question. In fact, it had been a study done by scholars in the past.
Why would anyone willingly practice dark magic?
Why choose a path that would lead to persecution and death?
But wasn’t it a similar question to those who asked why people fell into crime, addiction, or vice?
Desperation, pain, and survival often drove people to dark paths. A man who had nothing to lose was more likely to grab at any power, no matter how dangerous.
The paradox was simple.
Those pushed to the edge of society were left with no options. And sometimes, when no doors were open, they chose to break through the only one that remained.
Darkness.
A parliament officer stepped out of the building, breathing in the cool night air.
“Hooo….”
Dark mages had often found ways to blend into society. But many of them had also gathered under a radical faction united by a single goal.
The unsealing of the Black Dragon.
A mythical creature whose presence, even after 1,000 years of being sealed, still lingered in the world today.
In particular, it was said to be deeply tied to the very foundation of dark magic theory.
Tak. Tak—!
The Black Dragon was believed to be the origin of dark magic itself.
According to ancient texts, its sealing had created an imbalance that resulted in certain ley lines cutting off and distorting the flow of natural mana.
Dark magic users theorized that their abilities were remnants of this corruption.
Unlike regular magic, which drew from the world’s stable mana, dark mages drew power from unstable energy that came with dangerous consequences.
Prolonged use could erode one’s sanity, body, and even soul.
Yet, despite these risks, some were drawn to dark magic for various reasons.
To these radicals, the Black Dragon was both a curse and a savior. They believed unsealing the creature would restore balance to mana and free them from persecution.
No, in fact, others dreamed of something more ambitious. That it was possible to harness and absorb the Black Dragon’s power for themselves.
Of course, dark magic had never been universally accepted, largely due to the dangers of corruption it posed.
Among the radicals, however, a certain rumor had been circulating recently.
“Did you get an invitation?”
“Yes.”
The inauguration of the Saintess.
According to the rumors, the new Saintess possessed a power akin to that of an oracle.
This power made the radicals uneasy.
“Then preparations must be carried out.”
Because, in one way or another, the Saintess might receive a vision revealing the location of the stolen Black Dragon’s seal.
The Dragon Bones.