This year’s Imperial Professor screening test was a complete disaster.
Of the twenty-five candidates selected from across the world, ten were kidnapped during a coordinated series of attacks. On the same day, universities and academies housing the candidates were kidnapped.
Naturally, investigations were launched immediately. But despite the urgency, not a single solid clue had surfaced. The only lead they uncovered pointed to the involvement of Araxys.
When investigators attempted to identify the fallen assailants involved in the attacks, they discovered a chilling realization.
Some of the attackers had been declared dead years ago, others were long-missing, and several had prior criminal records. It was a disturbing realization.
These people, once part of ordinary society, some with families, some with troubled pasts, had been radicalized into fanatics.
Among the chaos and casualties, the Silver University Tower fared better than most. Thanks to the combined efforts of Elsa Hesse, the professors, and the students, many lives were saved.
Though a few were still taken, the toll was far less than that suffered by other university towers.
In the eyes of the world, it showcased the Silver University Tower’s reputation, confirming that it remained the most elite academic institution across the globe.
For the remaining Imperial Professor candidates who were spared from the aftermath protocols were revised, and a decision was made regarding their continuation in the screening process.
All except one candidate.
Among the evaluators, a single document circulated. A comprehensive report listing the names of all remaining candidates.
Beside each name was a detailed scoring profile, measuring variables such as psychological stability, stress response, blood pressure, neural wave activity, and time taken to complete various assessments.
[Vanitas Astrea: 28:21:19]
A full day and four hours. And he still wasn’t finished.
For the top-ranked candidate of this year’s Imperial Professor screening, it was a disappointing and unprecedented result. Every other candidate had already completed the test, and none had ever exceeded eighteen hours.
The longest record until now was just that. Eighteen hours.
“This is… a failure,” one of the scholars muttered.
“Sigh….”
In any case, naturally, the Scholars Institute came under intense scrutiny. The attacks on various academies during the test had sparked public outrage.
Families demanded answers, justice, and the immediate recovery of the missing candidates. Lawsuits were filed. Accusations raged.
Yet despite all of that, the tradition behind the Imperial Professor screening remained firm.
The nature of the test had always been deliberately kept secret from candidates to provoke a raw, accurate, and honest assessment of their psyche under extreme mental and emotional pressure.
It didn’t take long.
“It seems like he’s completed it.”
“…What’s the point?” a voice scoffed. “It’s a fail. Probably the worst result in the history of the program. And from the top candidate, no less. He may be a once-in-a-generation genius, but his mental resilience clearly can’t hold up under pressure.”
To the scholars, the Marquess, Vanitas Astrea, was destined to buckle beneath the insurmountable pressure of his own brilliance.
A genius bound for madness.
Until….
“Wait. Wait—look at his results.”
“How is that possible?”
“Is this… some kind of error?”
[Candidate: Vanitas C. Astrea]
Psychological Stability: 96.002
Stress Response: 8
Blood Pressure: 79
Neural Wave Activity: 6.7 Hz
Time Taken: 29:04:47]
Silence fell over the room.
The numbers were staggering.
Despite taking longer than any other candidate, probably ever in recorded history, Vanitas Astrea’s metrics reflected near-perfect mental control.
His heart rate, brain activity, and psychological stress levels remained almost absurdly stable throughout the entire ordeal.
“Doesn’t this mean…?”
“Marquess Vanitas Astrea scored a perfect result.”
In the end, it was undeniable.
….He had completed the most harrowing examination of the mind in complete serenity.
* * *
It had been a long time since I’d had a decent sleep. There were a thousand things on my mind, but somehow, after everything, never before had I had a better grasp on Vanitas Astrea than I did now.
Sunlight spilled through the bedroom window, stinging my eyes as I blinked against the radiating heat.
“….”
That was when it hit me.
This was my room.
How the hell did I end up here?
How long had I been out for the screening test? Long enough to be relocated from my office all the way back home?
“….”
I noticed the sweat soaking through my white collared shirt, sticking to my skin like glue. That alone told me something was off. I threw off the covers and bolted out of the room.
The moment I stepped into the hall, I ran into the Head Maid, Heidi.
“Lord Astrea, you’re awake!” she exclaimed, giving me a startled look.
“Heidi, how long was I out?” I asked.
“A day, my Lord. And—”
“A day?!” My voice came out rather sharp.
The average clearing time for the screening test usually lasted around twelve hours. Longer if one’s mental resilience wasn’t high enough.
But a full day?
That was beyond unusual.
“….!”
That was when I realized and felt my stomach drop.
“Where’s Charlotte?!” I asked.
I already had a sinking feeling. I knew the events that would transpire during the test. The problem was, it was impossible to predict the screening test’s specific timing.
Even worse, the identity of the traitor varied each time. In every playthrough I remembered, even the candidates shuffled. There was no specific pattern.
Naturally, I couldn’t prepare for something that refused to follow logic. But of course, I had prepared contingencies to secure my life in case I, too, would get kidnapped.
But the fact that I was safe and sound, meant… did it not happen?
But Heidi’s next words completely shook the world from my feet.
“The Young Lady… she’s in the hospital, Lord Astrea…”
That was all I needed to hear, and my blood turned cold.
I grabbed her shoulders tightly, and said, “Tell me the address. Now!”
“Yes, of course!” she stammered. “I was just about to head there myself… to bring her a change of clothes…”
I didn’t wait for the rest.
“Evan!” I shouted. “Start the car!”
“Y-Yes, Lord Astrea!” came his voice from the other room.
Storming outside, I glanced back just long enough to see Heidi clutching a bag and hurrying after me. She slid into the backseat beside me, flushed and out of breath.
As the car rolled over, a frown marred my expression as I felt my heartbeat growing restless. I practically had an idea what happened during the time I was out.
“….”
….Charlotte had probably risked her life to protect me.
* * *
——Thank you for your time. Your statements will greatly help the investigation. Well then, I’ll take my—
“Move.”
The investigator had barely stepped out of the hospital room when Vanitas appeared, blocking his path.
“Ah—?” The man blinked, caught off guard. “Who are you to—”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“You—”
The investigator’s face twisted in annoyance, until the realization poured down on him like cold water.
“M-Marquess Astrea…” he stammered, quickly stepping aside. “My apologies. I didn’t recognize you. I’m from the intelligence agen—”
“Not interested.”
Without another word, he brushed past the man and stepped into the hospital room, Heidi trailing quietly behind. She gave the investigator a polite bow before slipping in and shutting the door behind them.
“….”
Vanitas took in the sight before him.
Charlotte sat upright in bed, blinking in surprise at his sudden entrance. Across from her, Cassandra rested on another bed, looking back at him.
And between them, on a third bed, lay a woman with golden-blonde hair—Astrid. Unconscious, her chest rose and fell gently,
“Vanitas…” Charlotte murmured.
“Professor, you’re awake…” Cassandra regarded him.
Vanitas walked over to Charlotte’s bedside. “What happened?”
Charlotte began, “Ah, we just gave our statements to the inve—”
“Not that,” he cut in. “What happened while I was out?”
Charlotte’s eyes lowered. “The university was attacked. But… things are calming down now.”
Vanitas didn’t respond right away. He took note of the bandages around her arms, a wrap across her torso, a gauze on her forehead.
“….”
His jaw tightened, and a sense of guilt creeped into his heart.
Charlotte caught the look and let out a small, nervous laugh.
She pulled her blanket up to hide her arms. “Ah, don’t worry. It’s not as bad as it looks. The doctors just told me to rest. I’m fine. Really.”
Vanitas moved closer and placed a gentle hand on her cheek. “Who did this to you?”
“It was… Professor Eamon.”
His other hand curled into a fist, frowning. “That fucking clown—”
“N-No,” she cut in quickly. “It’s over. We couldn’t stop him, but… Grand Knight Illenia did. She saved us.”
“Margaret…?” Vanitas said, brow furrowing deeper.
Charlotte nodded. “She showed up just in time. Before Professor Eamon could do any worse…”
She clearly didn’t want to say the words out loud, that they’d fought to protect him. That she’d risked herself so he wouldn’t be taken. To absolve him of guilt.
Vanitas seemed to understand anyway. A small, gentle smile appeared on his lips. He pulled his hand away, and his eyes fell on Astrid.
“And her?” he asked.
Charlotte hesitated, and said, “She… took the worst of it.”
Vanitas stared at the unconscious girl in the hospital bed, and nodded.
It was clear to him now. Astrid had protected him too.
He breathed out a sigh, then looked at Charlotte and Cassandra respectively.
“You’ll both be compensated properly,” he said. “Don’t worry about the details. And don’t speak to those investigator clowns again. Half of them are probably just spies for the other Empires. Let the adults handle that.”
“Yes,” Charlotte replied with a firm nod.
“Yes, Professor,” Cassandra said, more quietly.
Vanitas turned to Heidi. “Heidi, take care of them.”
“Understood, Lord Astrea,” she responded.
With one last glance at the girls, Vanitas turned and headed for the door.
Just as he reached for the handle, it opened on its own.
Two women stood in the doorway, dressed in elegant uniforms with their hands folded politely in front of them.
Vanitas’s expression tightened slightly. “You two are…?”
“Greetings, Marquess Astrea.” They bowed in unison. “We’re attendants from the Aetherion branch estate,” one said. “We’ve been sent to tend to Princess Astrid.”
“Ah.” Vanitas stepped aside, giving them space to enter.
As they moved past him, he gave Astrid one last glance. Then he stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him.
* * *
Vanitas returned to the Silver University Tower, which remained temporarily closed as repairs and reparations were underway.
The atmosphere was quiet, for the most part, was heavy. Vanitas had heard of the mourning families. Still, the progress on reconstruction was swift.
At the rate things were going, the repairs would likely be completed by the end of the day.
He walked silently through the empty corridors.
——Put that there.
——Yes, Sir!
Workers didn’t even spare him a single glance as they worked on polishing the floors, reinforcing the walls, replacing shattered windows. They were all too absorbed in their tasks to notice the returning figure of the Marquess.
His first stop was his office.
It had already been restored. The walls had been repainted. Damaged furniture had either been repaired or replaced. Everything was in its place, as if the attack had never happened.
Vanitas had heard that the worst damage had occurred in the expansive hallways and lecture halls—where most of the fighting had taken place.
“Hm?”
Just as he turned to leave, Vanitas noticed a yellow handkerchief lying beside the sofa. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand.
There, in neat handwriting at the corner, was a single name written in cursive.
Astrid.
He paused for a moment then slipped it into his coat pocket without a word.
Leaving his office, Vanitas continued his slow walk through the university, inspecting the reconstruction. It was then he heard a familiar voice behind him.
——Professor Astrea!
He turned to see Professor Yro, one of the younger faculty members, jogging up with a clipboard in hand.
“Sir, I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Yro said, slightly out of breath. “I thought you’d be resting after what happened during the screening…”
“Nonsense,” Vanitas replied calmly. “I’ve heard enough. The university was protected while I was unconscious. The least I can do is carry my weight for those who held the line.”
“Ah… as expected of you, Professor Astrea,” Yro said with a sheepish chuckle. Then his expression sobered. “But if you haven’t been briefed yet, Headmaster Elsa is under heavy scrutiny from multiple noble families. We’re doing our best to get everything back in order.”
“Is there a list of casualties?”
“There is. I can retrieve it for you, but… if I may ask, what do you intend to do with it?”
“I’ll decide once I’ve seen it,” Vanitas said curtly. “Also, who were the professors taken?”
Yro’s posture stiffened, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “Professor Reili… Professor Ubel… Professor Ivan… Professor Vito… Professor Dahlia…”
He paused, looking unsure whether to continue.
“And, if you weren’t already informed—”
“Professor Eamon orchestrated the entire thing,” Vanitas finished for him.
“Y-Yes….”
It was a pity. While they couldn’t be considered close-friends, Vanitas had somewhat of a professional relationship with both Eamon, Dahlia, and Reili. The fact that Eamon was the traitor was rather disappointing.
Yro cleared his throat and continued. “Right now, the board is keeping it quiet from the students. Officially, he’s being listed as ‘missing in action’ for the time being… but after what happened in the lecture halls, some students saw what he became. Word is spreading.”
“And the Headmaster?”
“She’s holding up… barely. She’s been putting out fires with the noble families ever since then despite her injuries. Many of the injured were heirs or from influential families.”
Vanitas took all of this in silently, eyes turning toward the distant western wing of the tower where the headmaster’s office overlooked the entire campus. For a brief moment, he looked as if he might speak, but then he turned away.
“Have the list ready for me,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and Yro.”
Yro stopped mid-step. “….Yes?”
“I heard what you did for the students,” Vanitas said. “A commendable job.”
Yro blinked, caught off guard by the praise. His face flushed slightly as he scratched the back of his head. “Ah… thank you, Professor Astrea.”
He gave a sheepish smile before hurrying off, disappearing down the corridor.
A praise from someone like Vanitas Astrea was unexpected.
* * *
“Sigh… all those years wasted behind a desk have really dulled Elsa’s edge,” Soliette muttered. “The Calamity Witch from ten years ago would’ve eviscerated those monsters in a blink.”
The magical phenomena known as leylines had recently become wildly unstable, surging with unpredictable levels of mana. Naturally, the Archmage herself, Soliette Dominique, was assigned to investigate the source of this influx.
Now that she had cleared the surrounding area of demons and magical beasts, she turned her attention to the land itself. The readings were off the charts. Mana levels were absurdly high, and the polarity was fluctuating at a dangerous rate.
“This is exactly why I never considered a full-time teaching career,” Soliette sighed again. “I just have no talent for it.”
“You say that,” her protege Hailey chimed in with a grin, “but didn’t you do home tutoring for those snobbish noble brats back in the day, Archmage?”
Soliette gave her a side glance. “Well, yes. But that didn’t last long, as you know. Though—”
She paused, folding her arms as a thoughtful smile tugged at her lips, and continued.
“There was one student I met a year ago. He’s grown into someone… rather important.”
“Oh?” Hailey raised a brow. “Who?”
“Ever heard the name Vanitas Astrea?”
“What?! Seriously? You were his teacher once?!”
Soliette frowned. “Your reaction makes me feel kind of offended…”
“No, no,” Hailey waved her hands frantically. “Of course I’ve heard of him! We used to be in the same class during highschool. He’s brilliant. Insufferably brilliant! His papers and methods replaced three of my published books last year! I’ve lost royalties because of him!”
Soliette let out a light laugh. “Is that so? Hahaha~”
But the amusement faded as both women turned their attention back to the readings displayed on a hovering crystal map.
Lines of pulsing light veined the earth like a network of nerves, shifting rapidly in color from blue to red to a volatile shade of violet.
Hailey squinted. “That’s not normal. The polarity’s cycling too fast.”
Soliette nodded. “The mana is converging unnaturally. If left unchecked, it could fracture the local space, maybe even collapse a ley-point entirely.”
Her eyes narrowed, muttering a detection spell to probe deeper into the flow.
“But there’s something else…” she murmured. “It feels like it’s being drawn somewhere.”
“You mean, someone’s siphoning the leylines?” Hailey asked.
Soliette pressed her lips into a thin line. “No. That’s the strange part. It doesn’t feel artificial. I don’t sense any external interference or imbalance. The pull is… natural.”
Hailey tilted her head. “Natural?”
Soliette turned to her. “Hailey, you remember the phenomenon we call origins, don’t you?”
“Of course. And you’re one of them, Archmage. A natural origin of purity.”
Soliette gave a slight nod. “Yes. And the sensation I’m feeling from the leyline… it’s familiar. Like that of an origin.”
Hailey’s eyes widened slightly. “Are you saying—?”
“I believe,” Soliette said slowly, “another origin has bloomed.”