Just like the year before, the Academic Conference was once again held in August. This time, however, with all the problems occurring in Aetherion, it had been delayed, taking place toward the end of the month instead.
“We’re honored by your presence, Marquess Astrea.”
Vanitas nodded. “And I appreciate the invitation.”
Vanitas nodded politely, glancing at the fellow scholars seated alongside him before turning his attention to the stage where the upcoming presentation was being prepared.
They hadn’t expected him to actually come, it was obvious in their surprise when he arrived earlier.
“A year ago, I was just another member of the audience,” Vanitas said. “Who would’ve thought I’d be sitting among you renowned scholars today?”
One of the professors chuckled. “Ah, yes. I recall the incident last year. Professor Claude, wasn’t it?”
“Indeed,” Vanitas said. “He was a colleague of mine. It’s a shame he had to resort to such disgrace.”
After some time spent conversing with the other panelists, the presentations finally began. While there were a handful that stood out in terms of originality, none could be called groundbreaking.
Still, it was admirable to see so many young scholars taking bold, unorthodox approaches to magic. Compared to last year, the atmosphere felt much more daring.
Eventually, one of the panelists offered their critique of a particular presentation. After they spoke, it was Vanitas who leaned forward and added his own thoughts.
“You say you’ve implemented the Adaquantum Formula into your spell. But your array’s resonance frequency doesn’t account for the unstable phase shifts that formula introduces. Even if the structure doesn’t collapse, the feedback loop would render the spell unusable under real combat conditions.”
“A-Ah….”
The young scholar at the podium flinched, caught off-guard by his critique.
“Wouldn’t it have been better to substitute the fifth-tier Adjacency Constant with a flattened gear and grounding the output with a null verification?”
“Uhm—” The scholar opened his mouth, but no real answer came. He suddenly felt cold feet under Vanitas’s gaze.
Everyone in the room understood why.
Vanitas Astrea had once been a feared professor in the Silver Tower University, known for his rigid standards and unforgiving lectures. But his stern attitude had earned him something few others could claim.
Results.
He had the achievements. The reputation. The recognition. And most importantly, the knowledge to back it all up.
Even the other panelists glanced among themselves, realizing they had overlooked the same flaw until Vanitas pointed it out.
He continued flipping through the pages of the document, each turn of the sheet followed by another flaw exposed, another assumption dismantled.
Calmly and methodically, Vanitas dissected the thesis down to its bones. The presentation, which at first had sounded novel, now seemed riddled with foundational issues.
At the end of it all, Vanitas looked up, fingers tapping against the edge of the paper.
“Is this really your work, Mister Aberama?”
The young scholar’s eyes widened. “Y-Yes, sir. I swear it is—!”
“Then why can’t you answer my questions?”
Silence fell over the room.
The scholar fumbled for words. His gaze dropped, shame creeping up his neck.
“You’re defending a formula you clearly don’t understand. If this was truly your research, you would’ve been able to explain the feedback instability the moment I pointed it out.”
“I… I must’ve made a mistake—”
“No,” Vanitas cut him off. “You didn’t make a mistake. You presented a spellformula not of your own design, and now you’re trying to pretend you’re the author.”
Several panelists shifted in their seats, a few exchanging glances. The audience had gone quiet.
Vanitas set the document down and folded his hands in front of him.
“Well?” he said, raising a brow.
The young scholar fidgeted with the hem of his coat. No words came from his mouth, only a shallow breath as his throat clenched shut. He glanced around the room, attempting to seek help from the crowd, the panel, anywhere.
But none came.
“Mister Aberama,” Vanitas said. ” Either you didn’t do the work, or you lack the understanding.”
The moderator stepped in. “Perhaps we can move on—”
“No,” Vanitas interrupted without raising his voice. “If the conference aims to reward merit, then we must first be willing to expose deceit. If this is his work, let him defend it.”
The silence dragged until the young scholar finally lowered his head.
“I… I didn’t write it alone. I had help.”
Vanitas leaned back. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Whose work is this, really?”
The boy bit his lip. “My father. He helped me with the core calculations…”
Vanitas didn’t speak for a moment. Then he let out a slow breath and stood from his seat.
“Ambition without integrity is just vanity. Your presence here is a disservice to those who genuinely came to learn, not deceive.”
He turned to the moderator.
“Remove his paper from the proceedings.”
The moderator hesitated, then nodded. “It will be done.”
The panelists began speaking among themselves, dissecting what had just transpired. Some offered their own thoughts on the situation, others just shook their heads.
It became clear that had Vanitas not been present, the oversight might’ve passed unnoticed.
Soon enough, the conference resumed its pace. Presentations continued, and scholars stepped up one after another with their work. There were no more disruptions.
Then, just as the final presenter concluded and began to leave the stage, the next participant took their place. Vanitas’s eyes widened the moment he saw her step forward.
“….”
The moderator gestured. “Please, introduce yourself.”
“Greetings, my fellow scholars….”
An image overlapped in his mind.
“I am Astrid Barielle Aetherion….”
….Of Julia Barielle.
* * *
Students weren’t scholars yet, but those who were diligent enough could apply for the Scholars Institute even while still pursuing their undergraduate studies.
Astrid had done just that, passed the qualifications, earned the right to join the Institute, and gained the privilege to present at the Academic Conference.
It was clear she’d been busy over the past year, and now, her efforts were finally bearing fruit. Vanitas knew Astrid had always been a genius, someone who excelled at anything she put her mind to in every iteration.
But this Astrid in particular seemed to be striving for far more than just excellence.
“….”
Watching her now, standing on that stage and presenting with such poise, a memory stirred in Vanitas’s mind.
“Don’t go….”
——….Vanitas.
“Walk out of that door right now, and I’ll lose my mind.”
It was a scene from one of the iterations in the rivers of fate. In that life, he had won Julia Barielle’s heart. It hadn’t taken much. Kill the Emperor with his own hands, creating chaos within Aetherion, mend that chaos himself, wait a few years, then propose to the widowed Queen.
And in the end, tragedy.
——I’m sorry… Vanitas.
Julia had died in that world too, claimed by the cult, by Araxys. Her death led to his own, and soon enough, the cycle began anew.
“This time, I will live for you. Everything I do will be for you. So, just stay with me.”
——Do you love me, Vanitas?
No matter the face she wore, no matter the name she bore, or the path her life had taken, Kim Minjeong was always Julia Barielle.
So back then, the answer easily left his lips.
“In every lifetime.”
But in the end, betrayal awaited him once more. The look of fear in Julia’s eyes, those same eyes that once looked at him with love, had led to his downfall.
And then, another life.
“If you even think of betraying me, I will kill Astr—”
Vanitas looked up, his gaze settling on the girl standing confidently at the stage.
Astrid, delivering her presentation clearly, completely unaware of the disarray behind his eyes.
“….”
He clenched his fist beneath the table and shook his head.
The moment he rose from his seat, a few panelists glanced his way in confusion. One of them leaned over and asked where he was going.
“The bathroom,” he said, without turning back.
* * *
When all the presentations had concluded and the formalities came to a close, Vanitas stepped out of the venue. As expected, a number of scholars stopped him on his way out, most of whom clearly held him in high regard, eager to shake his hand,
After offering a few polite exchanges and farewells, Vanitas exited the venue. Looking up, he took a long drag from his cigarette.
“Hoo….”
Just then, he felt a light tap on his back, prompting him to turn his head slightly.
Standing there was Astrid with her hands clasped behind her back.
“Long time no see, Professor.”
“It’s only been three weeks,” he said
“Is it?” she tilted her head playfully. “Feels like it’s been so long.”
A moment of silence passed between them before Astrid spoke again.
Then Astrid asked, “Did you… not have any questions for me?”
“Dissecting your thesis would’ve only made the critic look like a fool,” Vanitas said. “It was excellent.”
“Hehe.” Astrid chuckled, clearly pleased by the praise.
She recalled the earlier panelist who had tried to challenge her, only to be dismantled by her confident rebuttals, looking like a clown by the end of it.
He regarded her for a moment. Then, without a word, he dropped the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his heel.
“Want to go for a walk?” he asked.
“Yes.” Astrid nodded.
They left the venue together. The evening breeze was cool, brushing against their coats as they strolled along the garden path that circled the outer grounds. Estelle was known for its unpredictable climate.
“Are you here alone?” Astrid asked.
“Yes. What about you?”
“Me too. I actually arrived two days ago.”
“And the train ride?”
“Surprisingly, the spirits didn’t bother me this time.”
A pause settled between them. Neither said anything for a while as they continued walking. Eventually, Astrid turned her head slightly and glanced at him.
“You looked troubled earlier. During my presentation. Was it because of me?”
“No.”
“That’s a relief.” Astrid sighed out of relief. “I was actually really nervous when I saw you frowning… I thought you were disappointed…”
Vanitas shook his head. “Not once have you ever disappointed me, Astrid.”
“I-Is that so….” Astrid stammered, caught off guard by the sudden remark.
They continued talking for a while, until their steps eventually brought them to the main road. Astrid walked a few paces ahead, then turned to face him, her hands clasped behind her back. The streetlamps lit her features with a soft amber glow.
“I’ll be returning to Aetherion early tomorrow morning,” she said. “Would you like to have dinner together, professor?”
Vanitas paused to consider it. He glanced at the sky, then back at her. He could afford to spare her a few hours. After a moment, he nodded.
“Do you have any recommendations?”
Astrid’s eyes lit up with surprise. She had expected to be turned down. For a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. No, perhaps… perhaps it was no longer right to call him professor. Not when he had already resigned.
As if he had read the thought straight from her mind, Vanitas spoke, “I’m not a professor anymore. Please, call me Vanitas, princess.”
“….!”
Astrid blinked, taken aback again.
She opened her mouth, then closed it, before finally murmuring, “Vanitas, then…”
Her voice softened at the name, remembering when she had lived in the Theocracy with Vanitas for a month. That time they were on a first name basis, too.
Astrid turned her head away to hide the faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
“Well then,” she said, clearing her throat. “I know a place. It’s not far. Follow me?”
Vanitas gave a simple nod, slipping his hands back into his coat pockets as he walked beside her.
The night air grew colder, but for some reason, Astrid felt as though it was only getting hotter.
* * *
After parting ways with Astrid, who couldn’t stop grinning to herself throughout the entire dinner while reminiscing how she, Vanitas, Karina, and Roselyn had once walked this very path just a year ago, and how quickly things had changed since, Vanitas walked her back to her hotel.
He waited until she was safely inside before heading toward a different destination.
“Is this the right place?”
The building in front of him was rundown. According to the locals, this had once been a clinic formerly run by a doctor who had committed a grave offense against the Empire several years ago.
It was Zelliel’s old clinic.
If Vanitas truly wanted to uncover the full breadth of his past, if he wished to trace every sin, it had to begin with Zelliel.
This place was the very reason he’d come to Estelle in the first place.