“This is the report from the test I conducted,” Vanitas said, handing a stack of documents to Headmaster Elsa in her office.
“Good work,” Elsa replied, scanning the pages briefly.
“The credit for compiling it goes to my assistant, Karina Maeril.”
“Oh, really?” Elsa raised an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“You know, I was surprised when you proposed this test,” she said. “It seemed like it might be too harsh, as if you designed it to simply traumatize your students.”
“Not at all. My students are stronger than that. If they weren’t, I would simply teach them again until they were.”
“Haha.” Elsa chuckled softly.
The scale and budget of the test had indeed caught her off guard when Vanitas first suggested it.
“But what inspired you to create this test, Vanitas?”
There was no need to hesitate.
“The Black Hollow Massacre,” he said.
“….”
Elsa’s expression froze, hearing him mention that tragic event.
“On that day, 68 students lost their lives,” Vanitas continued. “I, a survivor, simply wish the students would be better off prepared in case a similar situation arose again.”
The test he designed mimicked the conditions of the Black Hollow Massacre.
However, there were key differences. The massacre occurred inside a Fractal Dimension, while Vanitas used a Fractal Veil, a completely different type of magic space.
The massacre involved real demons, but his test used heavily modified monsters, which required extensive resources—such as mana crystals.
He even contributed his own funds to make it possible.
“….You truly have changed,” Elsa said, staring at him as if she couldn’t believe it.
“Ah?”
…..
As their conversation wrapped up and Vanitas turned to leave, Elsa suddenly spoke.
“Wait, there’s one more thing.”
Vanitas stopped, turning back to face her. “What is it, Headmaster?”
Elsa leaned back in her chair. Her expression shifted into something mischievous.
“I heard you skipped an entire week of work recently.”
“….”
Vanitas remained silent. He felt like he knew where this was going.
“That’s a reduction in salary,” Elsa simply said.
***
Since her brother had returned, Charlotte was finally free to step outside the University Tower. She had followed his order without question, staying inside for the entire week.
To reward her patience, Vanitas took her out to a restaurant.
“I want this, that, this, and this,” Charlotte said, pointing at the menu. “Oh, can I order a shake too?”
“….Yes,” Vanitas replied.
The waiter stood by, ready to jot everything down. “Alright, is that all for you—”
“No, wait. Is this spicy? Never mind, I’ll have this one instead.”
“…Okay,” the waiter said.
“Does this come with gravy?” Charlotte asked suddenly.
“Yes, it does,” the waiter confirmed, trying to keep up.
After a long pause, the waiter turned to Vanitas, hoping the ordeal was over.
“And for you, sir?”
“I’ll just have one of whatever she’s having,” Vanitas said.
The waiter blinked, confused. “Uh…. which one of the nine meals she just ordered?”
Vanitas sighed, glancing at Charlotte. She grinned, clearly enjoying herself.
“….”
When he finished his order, the waiter stepped away and Vanitas glanced at Charlotte.
“Charlotte.”
“Yes?”
“Are there really no issues with you?”
Charlotte nodded. “I’ve told you already. The estate may hold both precious and painful memories, but it’s time to move on. You’re not the same person anymore. Literally—and I strive for change too. It’s time to move forward.”
Vanitas had told Charlotte about the new home he had secured. At first, he worried she might’ve still held sentimental value for the Astrea Estate.
Misjudging her feelings could have been a serious mistake.
But that wasn’t the case. Charlotte fully embraced the change, and was clearly making an effort to leave the past behind.
As they waited for their food, Charlotte broke the silence.
“I’m curious about something,” she said. “If it’s not too much to ask, what was your previous life like?”
“Hm?” Vanitas raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask? You’ve never shown interest before.”
“Well,” Charlotte hesitated, “I think we’re a bit closer now, so I’d like to know more about you.”
“Oh,” Vanitas nodded slowly. “Alright. My past, huh? Where should I begin?”
He had no issues sharing. In this new life, Charlotte was the closest person to him.
It wouldn’t hurt to tell her a bit about himself. Besides, most of it would likely go over her head anyway.
Perhaps it was also a chance to vent. After all, Charlotte had used him as a confidant during his first month in this world.
…..
Charlotte listened carefully, focusing on every word Vanitas said, catching every nuance and searching for hidden meanings.
“Yes, I also had a little sister,” Vanitas began. “Though my time with her was brief.”
“….”
Charlotte nodded silently. In her research about the Archmage Zen, she had learned that he too once had a little sister.
According to the records, she was taken by demons, and what happened to her afterward was better left unsaid.
“She was taken from me, and I couldn’t do anything. I was too weak.”
“….”
The story matched perfectly. To an outsider, it might have sounded like a sob story.
But Charlotte knew better. This wasn’t just anyone—this was Archmage Zen. By now, she was almost certain.
The more she recalled the biography, the clearer the connections became.
It was said that Archmage Zen had lived with a mysterious teacher after his loss. While the records mentioned it, there was little information about who they truly were.
“When I was ready to give up on everything, I met my teacher,” Vanitas said. “She took me in, provided me food, clothes, shelter, and treated me like her own son.”
“….”
Not once had Vanitas openly claimed to be Archmage Zen. It was merely all of Charlotte’s speculation.
Yet his story lined up perfectly with the legend. Charlotte’s suspicions were now all but confirmed.
“But…. I…. I ruined her life.”
“….”
Charlotte froze, shocked by the unexpected revelation. This was something entirely new.
“What do you mean—” she started to ask, but the waiter arrived, placing their food on the table.
“Enjoy your meal,” the waiter said with a polite smile before walking away.
Charlotte glanced at the food, then at Vanitas.
“What did you mean by that?” she asked, urging him to continue.
Vanitas met her gaze and smiled. “Let’s eat.”
“….”
Charlotte understood the hint and didn’t push further. Instead, she quietly picked up her utensils and began eating.
Chirp~
As she ate, her gaze drifted to the window, where a bird had perched. She watched it for a moment before turning back to her meal.
Flutter—
Moments later, the bird flew away.
***
Flugel Montaigne, a professor at Altheon University, found himself dozing off in the middle of his lecture.
It wasn’t laziness. Just that, he hadn’t been able to sleep properly for days. No, at this point, it felt more like insomnia.
“So, as I was saying, the formula to bring the temperature down to absolute zero is…. bed and sleeping pills….”
——Uh….?
——….?
His words trailed off, leaving the students confused by the strange turn his lecture had taken.
But who could blame him?
For days now, he’d felt like someone was watching him. Eyes seemed to follow him everywhere, though he couldn’t figure out why.
Maybe it was just the insomnia. Maybe he was imagining things because of his exhaustion.
When the lecture ended, Flugel quickly packed up and left the university. He made his way to a nearby apothecary.
“Welcome,” the apothecary greeted as he stepped inside. “How can I help you?”
“I need something for sleep. Something strong enough to keep me out for the whole night.”
The apothecary nodded, disappearing behind a shelf before returning with a small vial.
“This is a herbal tonic. Just a spoonful before bed should help.”
“Will it work for someone who hasn’t slept properly in days?”
“It should. But if your insomnia persists, I recommend seeing a doctor,” the apothecary replied.
Flugel paid for the tonic and left, clutching it tightly as he made his way home.
He hoped this would finally give him the rest he desperately needed.
But as he walked, the uneasy feeling of being watched crept over him again, making him glance over his shoulder.
“….”
There was no one there. Or at least, that’s what it seemed.
When he arrived at his house and reached for the light switch, he froze.
“….!”
His blood ran cold as he spotted a shadowy figure—a childlike silhouette—standing in the dark.
Flick—
The moment he flipped the light on, the figure vanished.
“Whew.”
He exhaled shakily, trying to calm himself.
“….I’m losing it.”
He stepped into the living room, scanning the space.
“….?”
On the floor was a single document. He was certain it hadn’t been there when he left for work that morning.
Picking it up, he scanned its contents.
“….”
It was his research. But had he left it there? He couldn’t remember. His mind felt muddled, and all he knew was that something was very wrong.
——Mister.
A sudden, soft voice whispered behind him. Goosebumps crawled up his spine as he spun around.
“….!”
There was no one there.
“Come out!” he shouted, fear and desperation cracking his voice. “If this is a prank, it’s not funny!”
Silence.
“Fuck, fuck.…” He muttered, pacing around the room. “What the fuck is going on?”
Was this some kind of curse? He racked his brain for answers. He hadn’t crossed any spirits—or so he thought. He’d always been devoted to his faith.
Clap—
He clasped his hands together and fell to his knees.
“Oh Goddess, forgive me for any sins I may have committed! Please, spare me from this torment. Deliver me from any spirits that may haunt me. I swear my devotion is—”
——Pfft.
“Hieeek—!”
A faint chuckle, like that of a child, echoed behind him, causing him to squeal.
Ignoring it, Flugel prayed faster, his voice trembling.
“Please, protect me from harm. I repent for anything I’ve done. Please, show mercy!”
His thoughts spiraled as he tried to rationalize. Was it a spirit? His insomnia? His sanity slipping away?
Or maybe…. Maybe…. Maybe….
——Are you a Dark Mage, Mister?
He was undoubtedly losing his mind.
***
The Sanctis Theocracy.
Known as the birthplace of magic, it was the progenitor empire where magic was first recorded.
The theocratic empire was ruled by the Holy Church of Lumine, which preached absolute faith and devotion to the Goddess Lumine.
––The inauguration ceremony to appoint the new Saintess, Selena, is about to commence!
The role of Saintess was revered as a prophet of the Goddess Lumine, akin to a princess in a monarchy. However, unlike a monarchy, the position was appointed, not inherited.
Tak. Tak——!
Seventeen-year-old Selena stepped down, her heels echoing against the marbled stairs.
Clad in a flowing white gown adorned with gold, she was the very definition of divine grace.
Her golden hair shone like sunlight, and her blue eyes sparkled like the clearest skies.
——Blessed be the Saintess!
——May the light of the Goddess guide us through her!
Her presence captivated the crowd, who erupted into cheers and applause in her honor.
The High Priest stepped forward, raising his staff to silence the crowd.
——Behold, the one chosen by the Goddess! Selena, the Saintess, shall lead us in faith and virtue. May the Holy Church of Lumine prosper under her guidance!
The room fell silent as Selena bowed her head.
“….”
But secretly, she gritted her teeth.
She was an orphan, raised in an orphanage managed by priests.
From a young age, her talent for magic had been extraordinary, something unseen among orphans for centuries.
Because of that, the priests had claimed she was chosen by the Goddess Lumine.
It was the perfect narrative.
However, the truth was far from divine.
Selena wanted to run. To escape this life, these priests, and the role forced upon her.
She was tired. Tired of being used. The priests had offered to teach her magic, but only in exchange for her services.
Services she would rather not speak of.
At first, she hadn’t understood. She was just an innocent child, unaware of the true nature of what they were asking her to do.
But as she grew older, the more she became aware.
This wasn’t normal.
It all made sense now why the Theocracy was often viewed with disdain by other empires.
‘Should I…?’
After years of being under constant watch, Selena realized this was her chance.
She had spent years earning their trust, pretending to be loyal and completely brainwashed.
But that night, she made her move.
“….”
And kept running.
“Haah….”
Far away from the Theocracy.
“Hah…!”
Or so she thought.
One couldn’t simply escape their fate just by wanting to run. If it were that easy, she would’ve done it long ago.
But she couldn’t.
Because if she did, the children in the orphanage would pay the price—with their lives.
———!
And then it happened. Selena turned around, her breath catching in her throat.
Flames consumed the orphanage, and blood stained the ground where the children she grew up with once stood.
——Selena….
——….Big Sis…. why?
——You said you’d protect us…
“Hukh!”
Immediately after, Selena jolted awake, her breath ragged. She clutched her head, feeling a sharp headache pulsing through her.
“Ugh.”
Selena clutched her head, feeling a sharp headache pulsing through. The echoes of their voices lingered in her mind, sending goosebumps crawling all over her skin.
“That dream again.”
She couldn’t remember it fully—dreams were often like that. But there was that lingering sense of déjà vu.
It was likely the same dream as always. The one where she was the Saintess, running from the Theocracy.
Pushing the thoughts aside, Selena got up and walked to the mirror. She tied her blonde hair into a ponytail and took a deep breath.
“Hoo….”
When she stepped out of her small room, the lively voices of the other children greeted her.
“Big Sis Selena!” a little boy called out, running up to her. “Did you hear? We might get bread today!”
“Bread?” Selena asked, smiling. “That’s rare.”
“Selena!” another voice called. A younger girl tugged on her sleeve. “Will you braid my hair? Please?”
“After breakfast,” Selena promised, gently patting the girl’s head.
“Breakfast, breakfast!” a group of children chanted as they gathered near the kitchen.
Such was life in the orphanage.
As Selena took a step toward the dining table, she suddenly froze. A fragment of her dream flashed through her mind.
——Why did you kill us?