“Nnh….”
Vanitas groggily opened his eyes. He had blacked out for only a few seconds.
——I’ll take him.
——Ah? Do you know this person?
——Yes, he’s a colleague.
His vision was blurry, but he could feel arms supporting him. Turning his head, he blinked, catching a hazy glimpse of snow-white hair.
“….”
When his vision cleared, he realized who it was.
“..\.Margaret?”
“You’re awake,” Margaret said, steadying him with his arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you to a hospital.”
Vanitas’s mind was swirling with questions. Where did Margaret come from? How did she find him?
But there was no time to dwell on it.
“….No,” he muttered. “Just take me to a taxi.”
“No?” Margaret raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You’re not in good shape.”
“Just…. a taxi. I’ll handle it.”
Margaret hesitated but eventually nodded. “Fine, but I’m coming with you. Just to make sure you get where you need to go safely.”
Vanitas couldn’t find the strength to argue. “Do whatever you want.”
She hailed a taxi, helping him inside before climbing in next to him.
“Haaa….”
Vanitas leaned back, breathing heavily.
During the train ride, he had used the Silverleaf Grimoire to recover. It restored 5% of his mana, but the symptoms didn’t go away.
The gauntlet’s effects were still working too, but there was only so much they could do after he had drained his reserves in an instant.
Still, the items helped him stay awake.
Margaret glanced at him, worry evident on her face. “Where do you need to go?”
“A clinic” Vanitas said between shallow breaths. “I’ll give you the address.”
Margaret nodded, instructing the driver to follow Vanitas’s directions.
——!
As the taxi sped off, she kept her steady hold on him, worried he might just bang his head on the window.
***
Becoming the personal doctor for someone with a rare illness—a condition Yves had spent half his life researching—was challenging, especially when his clinic was an hour away by train.
In a life-threatening situation, that long, agonizing train ride could mean the difference between life and death for the patient.
This patient wasn’t just anyone. He wasn’t just a client but also a benefactor and possibly a future partner in uncovering the secrets of this illness.
With the money entrusted to him, Yves had spent two weeks securing land and a building in Valenora.
The deal was finalized, and the pre-built structure only needed refurbishing and polishing to become fully operational.
Moreover, Yves’s transfer request to work in a hospital in Valenora had finally been approved.
“Hmm….” Yves muttered as he worked through a stack of documents.
“Hmm….”
His next task was to hire a transportation company to move his equipment, supplies, and machinery to the new location.
——!
Suddenly, the sound of a commotion outside his office broke his focus.
“….?”
Curious, Yves stood up and walked to the hallway, where the glass door of his seemingly run-down clinic was visible.
“Huh?”
Vanitas lifted his head. Whether it was a frown or a glare, the sharp glow in his amethyst eyes sent a chill down Yves’s spine, though he couldn’t quite explain why.
“….”
That was all the signal Yves needed.
He quickly approached, opened the door, and gestured. “I’ll take him from here.”
Margaret nodded, carefully passing Vanitas over to Yves.
“Will he be alright?” Margaret asked, concern clear in her voice.
“At the very least, I won’t let him die.”
Margaret moved to step inside the clinic, but Vanitas, still weak, spoke up.
“Thanks. I’ll repay you soon. But.… please, leave.”
“….”
Margaret hesitated, her foot just barely inside the clinic. She glanced between Yves and Vanitas, but eventually nodded and stepped back.
She had never seen him look so vulnerable before.
“Alright,” she said softly. “Take care.”
“Yeah.”
As the glass door closed behind her, Margaret stood there for a moment, watching, before turning and walking away.
“Your woman?” Yves asked, helping Vanitas to his laboratory, one arm supporting him.
“Like I have…. any time for that.”
….
Vanitas lay inside the scanning machine while Yves carefully monitored the results.
Mana Core Degeneration Syndrome, or Mana Core Cancer, caused unnatural mutations in the cells and directly attacked a person’s mana core.
It was a severe condition that could be passed down genetically, which explained why the children of those affected often had lower mana reserves.
This condition, originally caused by a failed experiment several years back, had blended with various environmental factors over time.
However, there were exceptions. In some cases, a child could inherit a normal mana capacity. This was often a sign that the child would not develop the illness.
This illness made excessive magic use dangerous, yet the scans showed Vanitas had nearly drained his reserves in a single burst, triggering mana sickness and his condition at the same time.
Was he a stubborn idiot?
“….”
But something unusual caught his attention.
“Hmm….”
Despite the strain, Vanitas’s mana core remained surprisingly stable.
Yves thought back to his wife, whose mana core had steadily worsened over time, even with minimal magic use.
This didn’t make any sense. How was Vanitas’s core holding up?
It was almost as if there were natural defenses within his core, slowing the cancer’s spread.
Back then, Yves had cautioned Vanitas that a professor career might be too risky.
But what he saw now was beyond his expectations.
While the illness wasn’t stopped completely, these protective cells seemed to be buying him time.
Still, Yves knew this wouldn’t last forever.
If Vanitas continued to push himself and overuse his mana like what happened, the strain would eventually weaken his core, and the cancer would accelerate.
“Sigh.”
Yves stood up and stretched. More monitoring was required to guarantee Vanitas’s safety. Nevertheless, he wasn’t in any danger for the time being.
“….”
Yves’s gaze shifted to the sleek black gauntlet resting on the table.
Before becoming a doctor, Yves had been an alchemy valedictorian, holding a PhD in both alchemy and medicine.
The gauntlet intrigued him. It made sense that Vanitas, as a cancer patient, had chosen it as his medium.
While different mediums offered varying degrees of efficiency, a gauntlet seemed uniquely suited to Vanitas’s needs.
Nevertheless, Yves wasn’t one to pry on his patient’s personal belongings.
***
Inside the Imperial Palace, a certain occasion required the gathering of the Imperial Children.
Tak. Tak——!
Irene, returning to Aetherion after two months, walked through the grand halls, her heels clicking with every elegant step.
Suddenly, she stopped.
“Franz….”
Standing by the corner with his arms crossed was her brother, Franz, the Imperial Prince and heir to the throne. His golden blonde hair, a trait which Irene didn’t inherit from their mother, shone under the palace lights.
“Irene,” Franz greeted with a sigh. “When will you start calling me Big Brother again, like the old days?”
“Shut it.”
Franz chuckled softly. “Where have those days gone? My cute little sister, barely this tall—” he gestured around his thigh, “—always following me around.”
It had only been two months since Irene returned to Aetherion, but it had been over a year since she’d last seen her older brother.
“Don’t bother,” Irene said coldly. “I have no interest in talking to you.”
“Whatever.” Franz shrugged and scoffed, brushing off her words.
They stood in silence for a moment. Irene stared off into the distance, clearly uninterested in engaging, while Franz leaned casually against the wall, looking her way.
“How’s your business going?” he finally asked. “Care to spare your big brother a bit of Rend?”
“….”
Irene’s brow twitched. She turned her head slightly but refused to look at him.
“No response? Come on, Irene,” Franz said, grinning. “Surely, with all your success, tossing me a few coins wouldn’t hurt, right?”
“I don’t finance irresponsible people,” Irene retorted, turning to glare at him.
“Ouch. Irresponsible?” Franz placed a hand on his chest, as if he was truly hurt. “I’ve been very responsible with my expenditures this year, you know?”
“On what? Clubs? Women?”
“Oh?” Franz smirked, his brows lifting. “Right, you do have certain connections in that line of business.”
He shrugged nonchalantly.
“Nope. Haven’t you heard from your friends? I terminated my VIP pass ages ago.”
“Yeah, for clubs where I have contacts,” Irene retorted. “I’m surprised you actually worked your ass off to figure out where I have connections.”
“Ass? Sharp tongue for a princess,” Franz teased, his grin widening. “Still, looks like I can’t outplay you.”
“Damn right you can’t,” Irene said, crossing her arms. “Now do me a favor and shut up.”
Franz chuckled but obliged, leaning back against the wall in silence.
Moments later, a door opened, and an old man with graying hair and crimson eyes stepped out. Without hesitation, both siblings dropped to one knee.
——Father.
Their voices overlapped as they greeted their father in unison.
Their father, the Imperial Emperor, Decadien Aetherion, gazed at them.
“I could hear your banter all the way from my chambers,” he said. “Is this how the heirs of Aetherion conduct themselves in the palace halls?”
As was typical of the older generation in Aetherion, their accents carried a distinct eloquence. The younger generation, however, seemed to have drifted from such formality.
“….”
Both Irene and Franz stiffened, lowering their heads further.
——Our apologies, Father.
The Emperor raised a hand, silencing them before they could continue.
“At least you show unity in your mischief. But remember, carry yourselves with the dignity expected of your station.”
——Yes, Father.
The Emperor’s eyes shifted between them before he asked, “And where is Astrid?”
“We don’t know,” Franz said. “She seems to be running late.”
“Strange,” Decadien murmured. “It’s not like her to miss an occasion like this.”
“She’s probably busy, Father,” Irene added. “She just started university, after all.”
“Even so, it’s unusual for her to be late for your mother’s death anniversary.”
Their mother, the late Imperial Queen Julia Barielle, was a memory that time had yet to heal, even after all these years.
In the past, Astrid had always been the first to arrive at the Imperial Palace, even as recently as last year.
After waiting in the palace lounge for an hour, it became clear she wasn’t going to show up.
Decadien stood up. “It seems she isn’t coming.”
“It appears so,” Franz said, standing up as well.
The group made their way outside to the awaiting car.
By the vehicle, a high-ranking member of the Crusade of the Round Table, Lancelot Troyes, was on standby.
With a courteous nod, he opened the door for the Emperor and his children.
“Your Majesty,” Lancelot said, holding the door open.
Decadien was about to step inside when a sudden voice called out.
——Wait!
“….?”
The Emperor and his children turned toward the sound.
Rushing toward them was Astrid, her golden blonde ponytail swaying behind her as she ran.
Breathless, she came to a stop just before them.
“I’m here!” she said, panting slightly.
“Where have you been?” Decadien asked, his tone calm but expectant.
“Haah…. Apologies, Father,” Astrid said, bowing respectfully. “I had some matters to finish at the university.”
Decadien nodded. “You should have informed us. Punctuality is a virtue, Astrid.”
“Yes, Father. It won’t happen again.”
Astrid turned to Franz and Irene, offering them a slight bow.
“Brother. Sister.”
Franz nodded. “You made it just in time.”
“It’s good you’re here,” Irene said, smiling.
Decadien stepped aside, allowing the youngest, Astrid, to board the car first.
She bowed slightly again in gratitude and climbed in, followed by Irene, Franz, and then their father.
…..
A shrine stood quietly within the cemetery. The architecture undoubtedly reflected the elegance and grace of Julia Barielle, the late Imperial Queen.
It was a yearly tradition for the Imperial Family to visit her grave together on the anniversary of her passing.
Despite her later years being confined to bed due to a terminal illness, Julia had always been a loving mother.
She made it a habit to ask her children about their day whenever she could. It was a small but meaningful gesture that stayed with them.
In her younger years, she had always been a busy woman, balancing her duties as Queen while still making time for her family.
Though they bore the titles and status of royalty, their lives were surprisingly normal—managing businesses, overseeing the aristocracy, and fulfilling their responsibilities.
During her death anniversary, it was customary for each family member to share their experiences of the current year as a way of honoring her memory.
Irene stepped out of the shrine, nodding to Astrid, who was waiting for her turn.
Clap, clap—!
Heading inside, Astrid clasped her hands together and bowed her head to offer a prayer.
The inside of the shrine was soundproof in order to respect each other’s privacy.
After offering her prayer, Astrid continued.
“Mother, this year, I passed the ESAT Exam as the second top-notcher. I’m sorry I couldn’t secure first place, but I promise I will strive harder during my time at the university.”
She paused. Her expression softened as memories of her mother surfaced.
“I miss you, Mother,” she said. “Even after all these years, I still think of you every day.”
Astrid took a deep breath before continuing.
“I’m working hard to achieve my dreams. One day, I’ll become a scholar, a respected mage, and a doctor. I don’t wish for other families to go through what we did. I want to help people, to save lives, and to make a difference.”
Astrid’s voice grew quieter.
“I know I have a long way to go, but I promise to keep trying, no matter how hard it gets. I hope you’re watching over me, Mother.”
With her heartfelt words spoken, Astrid continued, reflecting on her past experiences and the moments that had brought her to this point.
Time seemed to pass by in a flash as she poured her thoughts into her prayer, silently recounting the highs and lows of the year.
“….”
When she finished, Astrid clasped her hands together once more in a final gesture of respect and gratitude. Clap, clap—!
Taking a deep breath, she stood and stepped out of the shrine.
Her father, Decadien, nodded as she joined her siblings.
He always went last, as was his tradition. Without a word, he stepped inside the shrine, closing the door behind him.
Their father often took the longest during these visits. It was clear how deeply missed his wife.
“Astrid~!”
All of a sudden, Irene pulled Astrid in a suffocating embrace.
She hadn’t done so earlier, keeping proper decorum during the car ride with their father present.
That ride had mostly been their father asking about their days, much like their mother used to.
“Sister, I’m…. dyin—”
“Hueh~ I missed you, my baby sister~!” Irene cooed, hugging her tighter.
Astrid felt suffocated but didn’t resist. She couldn’t deny she missed her sister, too.
“If you had arrived earlier, I wouldn’t have had to suffer through Franz’s endless chatter,” Irene said, glaring at their brother.
“….”
Franz simply shook his head and chuckled.
“Sorry,” Astrid said. “Things have been really busy with the festival preparations.”
“Oh, right, that’s coming up soon,” Irene said, pulling away from the hug.
“Yes,” Astrid nodded.
“So, how are your studies going?” Irene asked.
“It’s been great,” Astrid said with a smile. “If I keep up my grades, I might be able to take the top spot soon.”
“Top spot?” Franz raised an eyebrow. “I thought it’d be you. Who’s ahead of you?”
“There’s someone else, sadly,” Astrid said, her tone softening. She wasn’t as close to Franz as she was to Irene. “But it’s fine. My professor has been helping me a lot.”
“Let me guess,” Irene said. “Professor Vanitas again?”
“Yes. He’s incredibly competent.”
“Vanitas?” Franz said, tilting his head. “Vanitas Astrea? That boy with the fastest recorded casting speed?”
“Yes,” Astrid nodded. “Do you know him, brother?”
“I’ve read about him,” Franz said. “He was quite the prodigy in his younger years. Though he disappeared from the spotlight later. Interesting. So, that boy is a professor now.”
“Yeah, shut up, Franz,” Irene cut in. “No one wants to listen to you.”
“Pfft~” Astrid chuckled, glancing between them.
Growing up, her older siblings had always been like this—bantering and trading witty remarks like it was second nature.
…..
When their visit to the shrine ended, Astrid climbed into the car with their father.
Franz and Irene, however, chose to stay behind, explaining they had personal matters to attend to.
As the car sped off, Franz stood with his arms crossed, watching it disappear down the road.
“Astrid’s still as lively as ever, huh?” he said casually.
“And I hope she stays that way, you bastard,” Irene shot back. “I’ve told you before, stop prying into her life. Stay out of her business. And while we’re at it, get rid of Nicolas as her personal knight.”
Franz raised an eyebrow. “Oh? That’s harsh, even for you. Nicolas is loyal and competent.”
Irene’s eyes narrowed. “He’s loyal to you, not her.
She had noticed it.
While Franz appeared surprised when Astrid mentioned “Vanitas,” there was a subtle shift in his expression. It was clear to her that Franz already knew about Vanitas.
In fact, he likely knew quite a bit about Astrid’s university life—information that had probably been passed on to him by Nicolas.
“Whatever you say, little sister,” Franz said, shrugging before turning to leave.
“….”
Irene stood there, clenching her fists.
One day, without a doubt.
“Tsk.”
She would put an end to that sinister brother of hers with her own hands.
***
“Try not to get yourself killed before I move to the capital.”
“Yeah.” Vanitas nodded.
The treatment and monitoring were finally done. He put on his vest and black coat, sliding the gauntlet back onto his arm.
“Do I have to pay?” he asked.
“No need,” Yves replied, shaking his head. “You’re already overpaying anyway.”
“Alright.” Vanitas turned to leave. “Thanks. If you have any trouble moving, let me know. I’m staying at the University Tower for now.”
“The university?” Yves raised an eyebrow. “That’s odd. Why?”
“Moving into my new home takes time,” Vanitas explained. “If you want, I can arrange a room for you there. It’d be better to have a doctor nearby.”
“No thanks. I’ve got everything sorted out. Just need to finish some refurbishing.”
“Alright.”
With that, Vanitas walked out of the clinic.
His mind had been too clouded by pain earlier to focus, but now that he was feeling better, several thoughts flooded in.
The demonic seal.
The strange demonic language he had read.
That Korean phrase he had spoken.
‘Don’t die, Professor.’
It was a message.
But the real question….
“….Who?”