novelzi Chapter 121: Story (3)
Chapter 121: Story (3)
Chapter 121: Story (3)
Epherene faced the pop quiz head-on, relying solely on her own abilities at first. However, the calculations in the opening sentence of the first question—laden with numbers and intricate magic circuits—stretched on endlessly, overwhelming her almost immediately.
“Ughh...”
Epherene had envisioned a mana circuit in her mind, but something went wrong. Without warning, flames flared up in the air, catching her off guard.
At that moment, Grand Prince Kreto raised his hand and asked, “Professor, could you clarify what you mean by allowing us to discuss the questions?”
Deculein replied, “Just as I stated, Grand Prince. However, I will ask a few questions to confirm that you fully grasp the material.”
Kreto glanced over at Rogerio, but she was already deep in concentration. The iron-colored mana flickering in her eyes was distinct, even for someone at the Ethereal-grade—a rare and special kind of mana. As a genius in Ductility, even her aura shimmered with metallic tones.
“... Ah,” Kreto muttered, momentarily mesmerized as he stared at Rogerio.
However, Epherene quickly turned her focus back to her quiz. She started working through the long, intricate calculations, carefully transcribing the complex spells onto her magic answer sheet.
“Uh... Epherene?” a quiet voice called out to her. “How does this look?”
Epherene turned to see Drent, who cleared his throat and showed her his answer. His approach to the first question had started off like hers, but as he went on, several errors had crept in.
Epherene suggested, “Yes. Right here, see? I split these sections and worked them out separately before connecting them.”
“Oh, really? I calculated everything together.”
“That’s going to be too hard. It’s easier if you break it into parts, right?”
“... But breaking it into parts makes it harder for me.”
“I’ll show you how to do it. Look.”
"... Uh, yeah, okay," Drent replied, nodding to her suggestion.
While the two spent time collaborating on their work, suddenly...
Squeak—!
Rogerio shot up from her seat, marched over to Deculein, and put the paper down as she said, "Heah ya go."
Deculein gave the paper a quick glance and nodded with indifference, saying, "Full marks. You may move on to the next room."
At Deculein's gesture, a new passage opened, and Rogerio stepped through. The red-furred munchkin trailed after her inside.
One by one, the other students finished their work, each offering a brief comment as they left.
“I’m finished as well. These questions were excellently crafted.”
“Me too. I’m done as well. Wow, that was difficult, though I doubt I’ll get full marks.”
“I hope full marks aren’t the only way to pass this exam, right?”
Astal the Addict, Professor Louina, Professor Relin, and several others had finished next, each offering a brief remark as they handed in their papers.
However, for Epherene and Drent, as low-ranking Soldas, the quiz remained painfully difficult. They had no time to notice anyone else and instead focused entirely on solving their own problems.
"... Half the time is already up," Epherene muttered, glancing at the clock. Ninety minutes had passed, and now, Kreto had joined them as well.
“This section,” Kreto said, “appears to be the core circuit responsible for purifying mana. What are your thoughts?”
“Yes, it looks about right. Drent, how’s the calculation I asked for?” Epherene asked.
“Ah, just about finished,” Drent replied.
The three of them collaborated, splitting tasks and solving the questions. After three grueling hours, they finally neared the end.
Click—!
The sound of Deculein’s timer echoed throughout the room.
"Time is up. Submit your answers."
“Oh, yes, Professor!”
The three stood side by side, their hands trembling as they submitted their papers. Even though it was just a few sheets, their hands shook with anxiety.
As Deculein reviewed their answers, the tension in the room became stifling. Sweat gathered in Epherene’s palms, and her throat constricted, feeling as though it were caught in a vise.
“Epherene,” Deculein said, lowering the paper as his gaze settled directly on her.
“Y-yes, Professor,” Epherene answered hastily.
Deculein pointed to a section of the answer and asked, “Who came up with this approach to segment and rejoin the spell?”
Segmenting and rejoining involved splitting a spell into parts for separate calculations before carefully stitching it back together. The process was as intricate as performing a surgical transplant. When executed properly, it could save a life; if not, it could result in disaster—like grafting a monkey’s arm onto a human body.
“Oh, it was... my idea,” Epherene said hesitantly. “They assisted with the calculations... and breaking down the spell, but I handled the rejoining.”
Deculein gazed down at her, his eyes cold and appraising.
... We must've made a mistake.
Drent and Kreto had already anticipated the result and let out deep sighs. However, Deculein’s following words caught them completely off guard.
"Excellent work."
It was praise they hadn’t expected. Epherene, who had lowered her head, braced for criticism. Her eyes widened in surprise as she looked up at Deculein.
“This approach and technique will be of great use to you in the future. Continue refining it,” Deculein said in his typical dry tone. “You have all passed.”
"Yes!" Drent exclaimed instinctively, unable to contain his excitement.
“Whew...” Kreto sighed in relief.
Epherene stood motionless, her gaze locked on Deculein as confusion clouded her thoughts. No one had ever told her she had done anything excellent. Praise was foreign to her, and now Deculein, of all people, had offered it. A troubling thought settled in—perhaps this, too, was just part of his calculated effort to flatter her.
“Epherene! Let’s go!” Drent called, pulling her by the arm.
“... Huh? Oh... um... I...” Epherene mumbled, still dazed, as she followed Drent like she was in a trance.
***
The second lecture hall was reserved for those who had passed. The ground had an earthy texture, a stream ran in the distance, greenery flourished, and fireballs drifted lazily through the air.
"One hundred passed, fifty failed."
Though it had been an open-book quiz, where discussions were allowed, fifty students still failed, unable to understand even half of the questions. In just three hours, a third of the class had been disqualified.
"Those who remain have shown a grasp of the fundamentals. Now, I will assign your task," Deculein said, as he compressed the dirt beneath his feet into a spike using the basic spell, Earth’s Mold. “This is a simple application of the earth-element spell Earth’s Mold. It’s not a longsword, dagger, or axe—just a spike shaped by a basic nine-stroke spell.”
The spell Earth’s Mold allowed the user to shape earth into various weapons, which were often paired with Telekinesis or wielded directly by hand.
"Right. Ya need at least twenty strokes to make it a real weapon," Rogerio cut in, her excitement obvious, given that this was her area of expertise. "With nine strokes, ya barely get a spike. Eighteen’s a dagger, and by thirty, ya can forge a sword better than any smith in town."
“Correct,” Deculein nodded in acknowledgment of her input. "However, the essence of Pure Utilization is found in mastering the fundamentals to their extremes. Allen?"
"Yes, Professor," Allen said as he stood nearby, handing Deculein a block of mana-infused metal.
Gripping the spike formed by Earth’s Mold, Deculein said, “When magic is purely utilized, even the most basic spell can be significantly amplified, depending on the caster’s proficiency. For example...”
Ihelm walked beside me and added, “Hey, Deculein. Doesn’t walking like this remind you of the old days?”
“No.”
“Still, back then—hey, hold on. You’re walking too fast!”
I quickened my pace, my long legs carrying me ahead as Ihelm struggled to keep up.
“God damn it, he’s moving that quickly,” Ihelm muttered, clicking his tongue in annoyance.
Deculein had already pulled far ahead. He wasn’t running or power-walking, but his pace carried an almost unnatural swiftness.
“Well.”
There was no point in chasing after him. Ihelm had already said everything he wanted to and had heard all he needed in return.
"Hey, did you hear all of that?" Ihelm called, his gaze fixed on the large tree near the Mage Tower.
Epherene, who had been hiding behind the tree, flinched.
“You heard him, didn’t you, Leaf? He gave you that thesis knowing full well you wouldn’t comprehend it in time.”
“... I realized that a while ago,” Epherene said, stepping out with her arms crossed.
Ihelm smirked at her sassy attitude and said, “I didn’t think you knew. So, why were you hiding? I made sure to speak loud enough for you to catch every word.”
"I wanted to ask you something directly."
“Ask what?”
“What was the relationship between the three of you?”
"... What?" Ihelm responded, his frown growing more pronounced.
It was an honest reaction.
Epherene scoffed and pushed further, saying, "My dad, Deculein, and you. If you don’t tell me, I won’t be your witness at the hearing. Fair exchange."
Ihelm paused in silence for a moment.
“Am I wrong?” Epherene added.
Ihelm stood with his mouth half-open, clearly in disbelief.
After a moment of stillness, he sighed quietly and said, “Yes, we were friends. Deculein and I.”
“... Friends?”
Ihelm repeated the word, almost tasting it as he murmured, “Or were we friends?”
“What kind of answer is that? And my dad?” Epherene asked.
“A lackey.”
“... You son of a—”
“Ah, I’m joking! Just a joke! Hahaha!” Ihelm said, bursting into laughter as Epherene’s face was full of anger. His laughter grew so intense that he clutched his sides, tears forming in his eyes.
“Stop laughing!” Epherene shouted, stomping her foot and glaring at him.
“Alright, alright, I apologize,” Ihelm said, wiping a tear from his eye. “We were equals, more or less. But if you picture it like a pyramid, Deculein stood at the top. Your father, on the other hand... he was under Yukline’s shadow.”
“Shadow?”
"Yes, his intellect," Ihelm said, tapping his temple. "Your father relied on his intellect to gain Yukline’s favor."
Epherene paused, turning his words over in her mind. Her father had gained Yukline’s favor through his intellect... Yet the meaning felt hazy, too vague to fully understand.
Then Epherene asked, “If Deculein was so fascinated by my father’s theory—”
"Hey, do you think Deculein was the only one in Yukline?"
“Sorry?”
Ihelm gave Epherene a sly grin and said, "In Hadecaine, there's Yeriel, who is also in the Yukline family. Then there was Decalane, the Ethereal-ranked mage who died some time ago, and both of his wives were also Yukline."
“Oh... then—”
“No. Shh,” Ihelm said, raising a finger to his lips. “You’ve heard enough. Going further, and you’ll be putting your life in danger. The Yukline family is powerful, and if you continue digging, you will be killed.”
“... Professor Deculein would kill me?”
“No, the Yukline family will.”
Epherene’s gaze remained steady as it met Ihelm’s unyielding stare. He hadn’t blinked or looked away.
“Therefore, you will need to stand as my witness. If you have any evidence, make sure it is brought forward—if, of course, you really have any at all.”
“I do,” Epherene replied without hesitation.
Ihelm’s smirk faded, his expression hardening as he asked, “You do have evidence?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“... It’s a secret.”
“A secret?” Ihelm repeated, his face twisted in frustration, deep lines forming across his forehead like a dumpling. “Are you playing games with me? How am I expected to help if I don’t even know—”
“They’re letters from my father. I’ll bring them to the hearing. And we don’t need to work together—your name isn’t mentioned at all.”
Ihelm swallowed his frustration and, with a harsh sigh, raked a hand through his hair before muttering, “... So even that bastard thought less of me.”
Ihelm continued, "Setting that aside, those letters will be strong evidence, so be sure to present them properly. I’ll back you, so face them head-on. The Rewind family doesn’t bow to Yukline, so you won’t have to worry about your safety.”
With that, Ihelm turned and walked away, his figure swaying under the moonlight as if he were drunk.
“Then farewell, Leaf, daughter of Luna~”
As she watched him walk away, Epherene took a deep sigh and thought, I don’t know if I’m making the right, if it’s really the right thing to do. Maybe it’s all wrong. But... if I can make sure my father’s name is remembered in the Magical Realm, if he won’t be forgotten, if I can erase the shame he’s suffered at the Mage Tower, if I can proudly say that I am my dad’s daughter...
“... Dad,” Epherene whispered, as she pulled the thesis paper from inside her coat.
Deculein had said he would return it if she could comprehend it within a month, but that had always been impossible. From the start, he had never intended to give it back.
“But isn’t it odd?”
Therefore, if what Ihelm said is true and I really am Deculein’s Achilles’ heel... if I can actually bring him down, if I can actually cripple him at the core...
"I should feel happy. I should be over the moon, practically jumping for joy..."
A swell of emotions rose within Epherene, thick and heavy like fog, drifting upward like clouds. It left her with an odd, lingering bitterness.
Is it because of the future self that I have encountered? I don’t even remember what exactly she said anymore... I’m not happy, I’m not sad, and I don’t feel relieved. I thought I’d feel better, but there’s just a bitter taste left, like a victory that’s turned sour.
“... I need to stay strong,” Epherene whispered to herself. “I have to uncover the truth...”
Epherene's voice floated into the night, her uncertainty hanging in the cold air like a fleeting breath. It lingered for a moment, swirling gently, before the wind carried it away, dissolving into the emptiness.