“….Are these just for aesthetics?”
Astrid gently removed the glasses from Professor Vanitas’s face and set them aside. He really shouldn’t be sleeping with them on.
From what she could tell, the professor’s glasses didn’t seem to have any corrective grade. His vision was clearly 20/20. And yet, he wore them every single day.
“He looks so much better without them….”
There was something unexpectedly serene about his sleeping face. It was a rare sight to see.
Growing bored of staring at him, Astrid stood and wandered over to the bookshelf, her eyes scanning the rows of neatly arranged academic textbooks.
Her fingers trailed along the spines until one title caught her eye.
[Astrea Magic Worldview II.]
Professor Vanitas’s fourth published thesis, released just a few months prior. It had earned a Scholarly Award within three months of publication and was the continuation of his well-regarded Astrea Magic Worldview series.
Astrid had her own copy, of course. Annotated and bookmarked.
Still, something about seeing the original in his office made it feel… authentic.
She pulled it out, returned to the sofa, and began flipping through the familiar pages.
“….Magic is not a force to be tamed, but a canvas waiting to be painted.”
The opening line still made her pause.
Even after reading it dozens of times, it struck her every time.
Vanitas had never seen magic as a mere tool, but as an art form.
A perspective.
“….”
She glanced toward him, still unconscious, then back to the book.
‘No wonder they’re making you a candidate for Imperial Professor.’
Even if he drooled in his sleep.
She turned the page, her eyes settling on a section she remembered fondly. A chapter that had once frustrated her, until she finally saw it the way he intended.
“The Ignition Series is often misinterpreted as purely destructive. But this is not the proper application to ignition. When the spellformula is approached correctly, it highlights the anatomy of flame as a composition instead of chaos. Let the flame emerge, not explode. Guide it. Let it respond to your intent the way ink responds to pressure.”
It was this passage that had finally helped Astrid make progress with the essence she struggled with most, pyro.
Her strongest affinities had always been Gaia and Aether due to their structures’ stability. Gaia responded to formation and pressure. Aether moved with the constant of polarity, much like magnetism itself.
It could be shifted, reversed, or redirected with just a flick of her fingers, guided by defined parameters.
But pyro…
Pyro was raw and unruly. They constantly moved, constantly wanted to consume.
Unlike Gaia or Aether, Pyro didn’t obey.
And for someone like Astrid, who excelled with control and definition, Pyro had always felt like the wild card she couldn’t shape.
She turned to another page and found another of professor Vanitas’s annotations.
“The mistake most casters make is in trying to restrain flame with boundaries. Flame is not to be boxed in. It must be coaxed, like a skittish animal.”
——You do not tame fire. You earn its cooperation.
It was poetic, much like the entire book. Each passage was written with a simplicity that bordered on verse. And that was the brilliance of it.
The accessibility.
Not only had professor Vanitas deconstructed conventional magic theory and rebuilt it through his unique lens, but he’d done so in a way that made it engaging, even beautiful.
His worldview had simplified and refined the very foundation of magical understanding. Any educated scholar could see that.
With enough effort, this single book could serve as the cornerstone for nearly every magic-related course.
“….”
Astrid closed the book and her gaze lingered on the Scholarly Award badge embossed on the cover for a moment. Then, she leaned back into the sofa and let out a long, quiet sigh, her eyes slowly drifting to the professor.
For someone so brilliant, so respected, it was astonishing how easily people still had the audacity to take advantage of him. People who would just leave without warning, without a single word of thanks for everything he had done, and simply disappear.
Not a single farewell to the university who had given them an opportunity, nor a single proper explanation to the man they practically owed their lives to.
But Astrid didn’t care about the specifics. Karina Maeril’s actions had already revealed her true character.
If that was how ungrateful she truly was, then Astrid believed it was for the best that she was no longer by the professor’s side.
“….”
Astrid’s attention shifted to the window, toward the grey sky. It was so grey it couldn’t be called bleak, yet it felt undeniably unnatural.
“….!”
A sudden flicker of color spread across the clouds like cobwebs. In an instant, she rushed to the window and looked up.
Sure enough, fractured lights were stretching outward, cracking through the sky like broken glass shards.
“This….”
It was already encasing everything before her eyes.
Tak. Tak. Tak.
Footsteps echoed outside the office. Moments later, the door burst open.
Bang—!
“Vani–tas….”
Standing in the doorway were Charlotte and Cassandra, both breathless, as if they had run all the way there.
“You two…?” Astrid blinked, surprised by their sudden arrival.
“Astrid?” Charlotte’s eyes widened slightly, then she shook her head as if Astrid being here was normal. “Never mind.”
She and Cassandra quickly stepped inside, shutting the door behind them.
“This is bad,” Charlotte muttered under her breath.
“The Fractal Dimension?” Astrid asked, glancing toward the window again.
“Yes. The University might be under attack. And my brother…” Charlotte’s voice trailed off.
Their gazes all shifted to the sleeping professor.
“Is it possible to wake him up?” Cassandra asked.
“No,” Astrid replied, shaking her head. “As far as I know, the Imperial Professor screening is absolute. He won’t wake until he clears whatever trial he’s facing.”
“Tsk.” Charlotte clicked her tongue in frustration. “Then we stay here and watch over him. The others can focus on finding a way out.”
“Agreed.” Astrid nodded. “It shouldn’t take long. The Headmaster is on-site. Everyone just needs to hold out until she—”
Rumble—
The floor trembled beneath them. A guttural quake reverberated through the foundation of the tower. The bookshelf to Astrid’s left rattled, a few books toppling to the floor
“….”
Outside, the sky had grown even darker. The cracks of light that once looked like cobwebs were now pulsing.
Then, in the distance, a deafening roar tore through the air.
———!
It wasn’t natural. Something was clearly coming.
“I’ll go and che—”
“Don’t go out,” Astrid interrupted, stopping Cassandra just as she turned toward the door. “I’ll scout the surroundings. Watch the door for me.”
“….”
The two paused, then exchanged a look before nodding in agreement.
Astrid extended her hand forward.
Crackled—
Golden sparks crackled at her fingertips, gathering and spiraling with intensity. Her voice lowered into a chant.
“Feathers of steel, wings of fate….”
Her eyes lit with a golden hue, as the spell reached its peak with each word.
“—Becky!”
With a sudden burst of golden light, a sleek metallic bird materialized in the air before her. Becky hovered, then gave a cute tweet of acknowledgment.
Charlotte and Cassandra looked at her with wide, stunned expressions as Becky darted through the open window like a golden arrow, disappearing in a flash.
Astrid exhaled slowly and closed her eyes. Her fingers twitched slightly as the spell linked, and her consciousness extended outward into Becky’s vision.
At first there were no colors. Then, blinking her eyes, everything registered before her like a blur.
Whoosh—
Through Becky’s lens, the university tower stretched out below. She guided the bird higher, sweeping over the university courtyard as she scanned every hallway, corridor, and rooftop.
She perched Becky atop the tower’s highest point and closed her eyes, allowing the link to settle.
Then she opened them again, blinking once—twice—as Charlotte and Cassandra came into view in her peripheral vision.
“Monsters are coming,” she began. “Students and professors in the courtyard have already begun the suppression effort.”
“….”
“….”
The two exchanged a look, their expressions hardening. This was the Silver University Tower. Attacking this place was like declaring war on an entire army. No one inside was incapable of defending themselves.
But the issue was whether they should leave the professor behind to join the fight.
Astrid shook her head. The answer was obvious, at least to her.
“It’s up to you what the two of you decide,” she said. “But the Headmaster entrusted me with watching over the professor. I intend to fulfill that duty.”
“I came here to do the same,” Charlotte added. “He’s my brother.”
Astrid nodded, then both pairs of eyes turned toward Cassandra. The only one whose reason for staying hadn’t been voiced.
She hesitated, fumbling with her words as her gaze alternated between them.
“I… I…” she started, before squaring her shoulders. “I owe the professor my life. So… I’m not leaving, either.”
A moment of silence passed between the three, then Astrid gave a satisfied nod.
“Then we hold this room,” she said.
Without wasting a second, she knelt down and pressed her fingertips to the floor. A low hum vibrated through the air as golden light shimmered beneath her touch.
———!
Magnetic pulses shot outward in fine, invisible lines, latching onto every corner of the room—the walls, the ceiling, the windows.
“Ukh…!”
Astrid winced as a sharp pain stabbed through her skull, as if a needle penetrated behind her eyes. Her mana core pulsed by the strain, but she gritted her teeth and endured it.
The sensation settled into a dense pressure in her head.
“Thanks,” Ezra said.
But instead of one person, two stepped inside.
“Haa… shit…”
“Silas?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“Haa… I came sprinting…” Silas panted, leaning against the wall for support. “As soon as those monsters started coming down the hallway… Haa… I figured the professor… Haa… might be in trouble.”
Once again, every gaze in the room shifted toward Vanitas, still slumped over the desk, sleeping soundly despite the chaos.
* * *
“Thank you for making the time to see me, Grand Knight Winston.”
Margaret lowered her head respectfully before the man who had once been her instructor. During her time at the University Tower, Winston had been one of the few Crusade Department instructors she truly trusted.
Now, having returned to seek his counsel regarding Vanitas’s offer, she found herself relying on that trust once again.
Winston’s words still echoed clearly in her mind.
‘Follow your heart, Margaret. Even when opinions clash around you, don’t let the noise blind you. People cling to what’s familiar. They rationalize the ordinary because they fear change. But you—you know what’s best for your Order. And those who resist your voice? They don’t belong under your banner.’
The memory brought a calm resolve to her heart.
Margaret looked up at Winston, who stood quietly beside his desk, arms crossed, observing her with that ever-measured expression.
“I don’t want to compromise what the Illenia name stands for,” she said.
“You’re not compromising,” he replied, “unless you let others decide what Illenia means for you.”
She paused at that, then nodded slowly.
“I’ll get going.”
With that, she turned and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her. As she reached the gates of the University Tower, something made her stop.
The atmosphere had changed heavily.
“…”
Margaret looked up, and that’s when she saw it. White lines crisscrossing the sky, like veins of light… before shattering apart like fractured glass.
———!
A deep pulse echoed in the air, followed by chaos.
From every direction, grotesque, mismatched monsters began pouring in, crawling across the stone pathways, climbing walls, some already clashing with students and professors.
“….!”
With no hesitation, Margaret sprinted toward the courtyard. Her eyes scanned the scene. Professors were conjuring barriers, instructors guided combat formations, and students holding their own.
She reached for her blade.
SHIIING—
With a flash of silver, she unsheathed her sword.
——Reinforce the east flank!
——They’re breaching the second floor!
Margaret moved fast, cutting down a twisted wolf-beast, or perhaps, a bear, lunging toward a fallen student. With a single sweep of her blade, the creature’s body split apart and dissolved into ash.
“Get up,” she said to the student. “Join the group by the main stairs. Now!”
* * *
“We’re inside your thoughts, aren’t we?” Vanitas asked, eyeing the younger version of himself.
The boy didn’t answer directly. Instead, he extended a small hand toward him and said, “Will you play with me, mister?”
Vanitas studied the gesture for a moment, then instinctively poured mana into his spectacles. However, as expected, they didn’t function in this cognition.
With a quiet sigh, he took the boy’s hand. Together, they began walking through the colorful, surreal carnival.
He found himself wondering. Why a carnival?
The answer came soon enough.
“I’ve always wanted to come here,” the boy said softly. “With mother.”
Vanitas didn’t respond at first and let the words hang in the air like that.
Eventually, he asked, “What about your father?”
The boy went quiet.
Then, with a flat tone and distant eyes, he said, “He was a bad man. He hurt mother. He hurt me. So…”
He turned to look at Vanitas, his expression blank, and his tone monotonous.
“I killed him.”
Vanitas remained silent. It was probably his biological father. A man not even worth remembering.
But still…
“How?” he asked quietly.
For a child who was barely six years old, taking the life of a grown man shouldn’t have been possible.
The boy looked straight ahead.
“He helped me.”
“He?” Vanitas repeated.
The child raised a small hand and pointed.
“You.”
Whoosh—
A gust of wind swept through, ruffling Vanitas’s hair, yet not the boy’s. The moment the words left his lips, the scenery began to shift.
Mist curled around them, growing thick, and then slowly dissolved. In the distance, a familiar silhouette came into view.
The boy gripped his hand tighter.
Without speaking, the two stepped forward through the gates of the old Astrea Estate.