Chapter 25
As I walked out of the dormitory building, I realized why I felt an unfamiliar sensation. Ethan hadn’t been seen since morning. During the break, Ethan had come to find me, and we went together to the Combat Magic Society’s workshop, so I felt awkward but thought such days could happen. Planning to research magic alone for a change, I was browsing the bookshelves in the society’s workshop when someone opened the door and appeared. It was Rinave, the society’s chairman.
Rinave leaned forward, scanning the workshop, then said to me,
What, Bien. You’re the only one here?
Yes, hello, Chairman Rinave.
Where’s Ethan?
I haven’t seen him. What’s the matter?
Rinave said,
Professor Rebilton told me to find the other students at school and bring them to the auditorium.
Professor Rebilton? For what?
I don’t know. But it’s not Professor Rebilton gathering the students. I saw him telling other researchers the same thing, and from his tone, it’s probably the Dean’s doing? I don’t know the reason. It’s the first time something like this has happened while I’ve been at school.
By when do we need to gather?
Hmm, probably, right now? Just go, Bien. If you run into Ethan on the way, bring him along.
Understood.
Rinave had no clue, but I had a suspicion.
‘Is the Empire making a move?’
Ethan, to be precise, had said the Madowon was fine, but I didn’t truly believe it was fine. It wasn’t that I distrusted the Madowon, but I knew they didn’t place much importance on their human informants. The Mazok, being Mazok, openly discriminated against non-Mazok humans. To them, a human informant at the periphery of their operations was expendable, whether they lived or died.
‘Yet it’s curious they lent Terra’s power. Or was eliminating Vine their goal all along?’
That was a plausible theory. Mental magic was a rising topic in the magical world. The Mazok, in conflict with the Council of Mages, might have wanted to kill Vine, who was gaining prominence in the mental magic school, to curb the Council’s growing influence.
‘But the Imperial Inquisition won’t sit idly by.’
Naturally, I knew more about the Imperial Inquisition than the Madowon. I’d never been to Ifnaken, where the Mazok lived, but I had received training at the Essoren branch of the Imperial Inquisition.
The Imperial Inquisition recognized only a select few religions originating from Damarat Yumaha as pure, aiming to expel all otherworldly entities invading Damarat Yumaha. Terra was treated specially, but apart from that, this exclusionary focus fostered a strong sense of solidarity among Inquisition members. Inquisition agents, even of the same rank, addressed each other as ‘brother’ out of respect, a practice rooted in this bond.
‘Of course, Vine was an exception, excluded from that solidarity….’
Vine had openly told me he joined the Imperial Inquisition for his own goals, and he hadn’t hidden that from the Inquisition either. From their perspective, someone like Vine was a valuable asset as long as he cooperated. Especially in a place like Yurmus Magic School, where internal affairs were opaque without a high-ranking mage, Vine’s value was even greater.
Vine’s death was a significant loss for the Imperial Inquisition.
I wanted to find Ethan and bring him along on the way to the auditorium, but among the students and researchers who had returned early from break, I couldn’t spot him.
When I arrived at the auditorium, Dean Aincheler Durmus stood on the platform, a maple bonsai pot in place of a head. Aincheler was already speaking.
<…Therefore, deeming it a significant threat to the school, we will postpone the start of the semester by at least one week. Depending on the severity of the situation, I may exercise my voting rights in the Council of Mages to delay it further, in which case the second semester of this year may be entirely canceled. In that case, all second-semester tuition will be refunded…>
The students murmured. Canceling a semester at a magic school was a serious issue. Living expenses or lecture fees weren’t the main concern, but many Yurmus Magic School students were nobles with tightly packed schedules. Minor issues included simple parties or noble gatherings, but major ones involved post-graduation appointments or marriage arrangements. Rescheduling everything was no small task.
Aincheler continued, addressing follow-up issues and solutions, then moved to another topic—the information I wanted to hear.
<We cannot confirm whether the Madowon will indeed attack the school as the intelligence suggests. However, as long as there’s even a shred of credibility to that information, the school must protect its students and cannot remain open. Yet this ambition of the Empire to dominate Yurmus and neighboring nations is not new, nor will it be the last.>
I felt confused.
‘The Madowon, not the Imperial Inquisition?’
That didn’t make sense.
The Imperial Inquisition would handle its own problems, especially if it was about revenge.
The only possibility was if, in the Emperor’s eyes, the Imperial Inquisition had failed. In that case, the Emperor might send the Madowon instead. Vine’s disappearance could be interpreted as the Inquisition’s failure.
But Ethan, a Madowon informant, was already here. The Inquisition’s failure was orchestrated by the Madowon. So there was no reason for the Madowon to attack Yurmus.
Besides, the Madowon had little to gain from attacking Yurmus.
‘The Empire has attacked neighboring nations and still seeks to invade, that’s true. But Yurmus isn’t a border nation. Even if they occupied it briefly, they’d face attacks from the Council of Mages and border nations like Kardien and Sorel. Could they even occupy it? There are over fifty high-ranking mages in Yurmus alone. What’s the Madowon’s maximum strength?’
As Aincheler’s words began to repeat, I walked out of the auditorium.
‘No matter how I think about it, it doesn’t add up. The Madowon wouldn’t come just to investigate. They’d know everything with Ethan here. The Imperial Inquisition, maybe. The only thing that makes sense is the Emperor. The Emperor could sternly decide the Inquisition failed and assign the task to the Madowon. But even then… with Ethan here…’
At the end of all these questions, there was only one answer.
‘Ethan lied to me.’
I went to the first place I needed to look for Ethan—his room. If he wasn’t there, I’d check the society workshop, the auditorium, the surrounding woods, maybe even the Great Library Labyrinth.
But Ethan was in his room.
What, Bien? What’s up? You coming to my room first?
Ethan was looking out the window, then turned to me and sat on the windowsill.
His calm demeanor left me momentarily speechless.
…Ethan, I was looking for you.
What’s wrong?
Haven’t you heard? They say the Madowon might attack the school.
Oh, that.
Ethan said,
I sent a letter to Dean Aincheler. Added some evidence. From the Empire’s perspective, they’ve lost contact with a low-ranking Inquisition agent, and Vine, a senior agent, is dead. Here’s proof Vine was a senior agent. When the Empire sees a failure in an area under the Inquisition’s jurisdiction, they mobilize the Madowon. And they consider this kind of failure significant. Because they think it was caused by a black mage.
I opened my mouth but could only manage one word.
…Why?
I’ll be honest. I’m not a spy or informant for the Madowon. Got it? When I approached you, when I suggested we hunt black mages, I had no ties to the Madowon. The information about Maiya didn’t come from them, I didn’t pass any info to them after killing Maiya, and this handgun, Terra’s power, didn’t come from them either.
Then what you know about the Mazok…
I studied hard. You’d be a bit impressed if you knew how much. Shame I can’t tell you. Anyway, the Madowon, the Imperial Inquisition, the Empire, maybe even the Emperor, must be dying to know what’s happening at Yurmus Magic School. A senior agent like Vine disappeared without sending any info. They don’t know why Vine vanished, whether he’s dead or betrayed them. But now Yurmus will be on high alert with talk of an attack, making things trickier. I’m not sure how the Madowon will approach yet.
I gathered my thoughts and said,
I trusted you, Ethan! I… thought of you as a friend.
So?
Ethan said,
Did I betray that trust?
Sunlight poured into Ethan’s dorm room, and surrounded by backlighting, his face was shrouded in shadow. I couldn’t read his expression.
Unable to answer, I threw a question back.
You’re a black mage.
Right.
A Terra black mage.
Right.
Ethan drew his handgun. He didn’t aim it at me but stared at it as if seeing it for the first time.
This is mine too. The Imperial Inquisition has a rule about ‘Terra’s black mages,’ different from other black mages, right?
Yes.
Kill them on sight?
Yes.
So, will you kill me?
…
I was silent for a long time before saying,
No.
Why?
I followed that rule because of Vine. He promised to release me from the Contract of Pasitaros if I killed a Terra black mage. Vine is dead, and the Contract of Pasitaros is already broken, so… whether Terra’s black mages exist or not doesn’t matter to me anymore.
I shook my head.
But this is different. Ethan, you’re someone I can’t trust.
What’s untrustworthy?
How am I supposed to trust someone who’s never, not once, been truthful?
What if all those lies were for your sake?
Ethan said,
I gave you what you wanted. I freed you from Vine, from the Empire. You’re free. Don’t you think that’s what a true friend would do?