Chapter 103

“What could it have been?”

“It wasn’t a corrupt. Most likely a demon.”

The demon’s self-destruction failed to fulfill its purpose. Its misfortune was that, in that place, there was an Archmage.

The director, upon detecting the signal of the explosion, enveloped the seed with magic at the very instant.

Rosalia added her power, and although the explosion broke through part of the defense, it stopped there.

Rosalia and Fernan were injured, but nothing fatal.

“Well, the concealment circle broke.”

The director clicked his tongue as he checked the damaged circles on the wall.

“So the corrupt magic leaked outside?”

“…Yes, though only in a minimal amount.”

“And what do we do?”

“I doubt there’s anyone capable of perceiving something so faint.”

“Could there never be someone?”

“Magic seeks perfection, but it is never perfect. However, within the Academy, there’s almost no one with enough sensitivity to detect it. Much less to recognize it as corrupt magic.”

Fernan drank a potion and nodded. If the director said so, there was nothing to do but believe it.

“Anyway, I suppose it’s a shame for you.”

“What is?”

“The opportunity to make a fortune vanished, didn’t it?”

Despite the explosion, some remains were left—though little more than black ashes.

Fernan understood that this was an even more complete closure than if Aint had destroyed it with his power.

“Yes, it’s a loss. But the worst part is that the demons clearly identified Aint.”

The self-destruction had been directed at him. If they hadn’t recognized him as a threat, maybe nothing would’ve happened.

It was almost a public declaration—they would no longer leave him alone.

“That’s true as well.”

“But not everything is bad.”

“Oh no? Why not?”

“Because it means Aint inspires real fear in the demons.”

If he didn’t frighten them, they wouldn’t monitor him. And much less risk self-destruction.

Just as humans fear demons, demons also fear and watch the Armians.

Whether it was because of the feats of the First Emperor or the power of light he inherited, the cause didn’t matter.

What mattered was that Aint was the only hero capable of saving this world, and that hero was in Fernan’s hands.

“That was already proven when Andromalius descended.”

“That’s right. What will you do now, director?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s clear that there are still corrupts hidden within the Academy.”

Except Fernan, who knew the Book of Prophecies, no one knew Aaron was a corrupt.

Which implied that even after the previous attack, there could still be infiltrators.

“There won’t be a second time.”

The director cast a fleeting glance at Aint. Fernan didn’t miss it.

But he let it go—if the director used Aint to track down corrupts, that would only strengthen him.

And the more uncertain the future became, the higher the priority of Aint’s growth.

***

Later, at the duke’s residence

“You’ve been coming often lately. Before, you used to say transportation circles were expensive, that you only traveled during holidays.”

“I still would like that, but the matter calls for it.”

The duke straightened in his seat. If Fernan had spent money to come personally, the matter was serious.

“I know the research collapsed.”

“It’s not my research, but Professor Rosalia’s.”

“You pay for it with your money. That makes it yours.”

“She takes the fame.”

“But the profits will be yours.”

He was right. If Rosalia succeeded, Fernan would amass a fortune.

“Do you know the reason for the failure?”

“I can guess.”

“Your assumption is correct.”

The duke drummed his fingers on the table.

“Cockroaches, no matter how many you exterminate, always come back. But this cycle has been too short. The director reacted too late.”

“That’s right. Because of that, my investment was lost. Should I demand compensation?”

“Don’t say foolish things. If you bite a tiger carelessly, you’ll end up being hunted by it.”

With the Archmage’s reputation and the director’s connections, that would be suicide.

“You know what Rosalia was researching. The corrupts had planted a seed inside.”

“A seed? And what grows from it?”

“A demon.”

“…..”

The duke fell silent at the unbelievable statement, then nodded.

“True. They already summoned Andromalius; summoning another isn’t impossible.”

There was precedent.

“They planned to do it at the Continental Congress, using the magiestone core as a source.”

The duke immediately understood the magnitude.

“They were targeting us as well as the Vienderks. With a demon there, half would’ve died—no matter how well we fought it.”

And that’s even counting powerful nobles, mages, and guardians. Against a demon, disaster was certain.

“You’ve done a great service.”

“I only did my duty.”

“Then, what do you come to ask for?”

It was logical—the plan could’ve ruined both Pellenberg and Vienderk by accusing them of being allies of demons.

“Professor Rosalia is rebuilding her research.”

“I know. The director himself is helping her.”

It was obvious—the massive shipments of magiestones, the help of the Pope of the Cult of the Dragon God, and the Congress delay proved it.

“I don’t think the corrupts will keep their hands still.”

“Will they come for her again?”

“An object with such power can’t be left alone. That’s why they attacked it.”

“Of course… if they manage to seize it, they’d have a secret weapon to use whenever they wanted.”

The duke stroked his beard.

“Then you need escort.”

“Yes. But not just for protection—also to set a trap.”

“You want a small group that looks weak but isn’t. I won’t give you the Red Turtle.”

The Red Turtle was the First Order of Knights of Pellenberg, the pride of the duchy.

The duke firmly refused.

“But… I will give you the Red Turtle.”

The Second Order of Knights of Pellenberg.

Saying “just Turtle” was modest—they were nothing less than elite of the elite.

“Yes, sir. I will capture them.”

Fernan bowed his head.

***

“Has anything new come up?”

Aria was rolling a bright red cherry candy in her mouth.

“Unfortunately not. In fact, I wanted to ask the same. Aria, did you find anything?”

“Me neither.”

“So in the end, neither of us has results.”

Inquisitor Girard Izuel sipped his coffee as he spoke.

“When I got the director’s letter, I was determined to unmask every corrupt in this world, but since I arrived—aside from those first ones—we haven’t found anything else. It’s frustrating.”

After the incident, and under the director’s guidance, thirteen corrupts hidden within the Academy had been eliminated.

But Girard didn’t believe that was all.

After hiding for so many years, would they really show themselves just to be eliminated so easily? Impossible. It couldn’t be.

That’s why he had stayed at the Academy, convinced there were more.

“If I’d known, I would’ve gone west.”

“There were corrupts in Altrierc.”

“Exactly. I stayed to earn merit and in the end, all I got was a missed opportunity…”

Aria watched him silently as he complained.

It wasn’t a coincidence that they had ended up in contact.

After returning from Altrierc, Aria had sought him out under the pretext of talking about the corrupts. Girard, who had been digging in a dry well until then, quickly clung to that connection.

Since then, every two or three days, they shared information about the corrupts.

‘The matter of the corrupts is only beginning. The authority of inquisitors is bound to grow.’

They carried symbolism inherited from the First Emperor.

If corrupts began to proliferate, their political and social power would increase.

That’s why Aria considered it wise to build ties with Girard and share information early.

“Today there are no results either. I’m still convinced there are more corrupts hidden here, but… am I wrong?”

At that moment—

“…….”

He felt a small pulse.

No, it wasn’t small. It had been reduced and reduced until it seemed minimal.

But the discomfort and the chill were unmistakable.

“The research building?”

It was where the professors’ laboratories were. Luckily, the café they were in was nearby, so professors and assistants often passed through there.

And, on top of that, Girard was more sensitive to mana than others. Aria, being an elf, noticed it too.

As proof, the rest of the people in the café didn’t sense a thing.

“That’s the director’s lab area. What could be going on?”

After two months at the Academy, she already knew its structure by heart.

“…This is.”

“If I’m not mistaken, this is…”

Corrupt magic.

It was disgusting, viscous, dirty. Clearly distinguishable from mana.

Although Girard couldn’t be certain—even as an inquisitor—he had never directly faced a demon or a corrupt before.

But it was worth checking.

Girard stood up.

“Are you going?”

“I have a good feeling about this.”

He felt that finally, after two months, the fruit of his wait was near.

“I’ll go with you.”

Aria followed him.

And what they discovered was—

“…Senior?”

“Fernan Pellenberg… coming out of the director’s lab?”

There was Fernan, exiting the laboratory.

“…What are you going to do?”

Aria asked upon seeing Girard’s face change, as if he had struck gold.

“I think Aria felt the same thing I did.”

“……”

Should she agree? But if Fernan was involved?

No, it was corrupt magic. Aria knew it better than anyone—she had been in contact with it many times.

“Is there any way to enter the research building? I can’t.”

“Me neither. Only professors, assistants, or those they authorize can enter.”

“What if we asked the professor from Fridian for help?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Aria shook her head firmly.

Though there was a professor from Fridian at the Academy thanks to the World Tree incident, and she was curious too, Fernan was the problem.

“Then there’s no choice. We’ll have to follow another lead.”

“You want to follow Fernan?”

“I smell a corrupt. Maybe the director captured one and they’re interrogating him. Or torturing him.”

Unknowingly, he was half right.

“And you think Fernan would tell us something like that?”

“Of course not. But I’m not in a position to be picky.”

After two months, any lead was water in the desert.

However—

“Ah.”

“…What now?”

Fernan used a transport circle and left directly for Pellenberg.

All they could do was stare at the empty circle.

“Can we use it?”

“Impossible. There’s no direct circle to Fridian, and even if there were, without Academy authorization, no one can use it.”

“When we need it most, it’s useless.”

“You want to compare what an inquisitor can do against someone from Fridian? Anytime you like.”

“It slipped out. Sorry.”

Though his face showed no hint of apology.

“What if we force our way into the circle?”

“Are you crazy? It only activates if a mage manipulates it from the outside.”

“But there is a mage here.”

“Where?”

Aria stared at him, incredulous. Girard didn’t take his eyes off her.

“Don’t say nonsense. I’d be expelled.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“What are you talking about? To use it, we’d have to neutralize the mages and guards who monitor it. Isn’t that enough reason for expulsion?”

“Well… then there’s no helping it.”

Girard sighed and gave up.

“All we can do is wait for another chance. But Fernan coming out of a place with corrupt magic and then heading home… that only deepens my suspicions.”

It couldn’t be a coincidence.

No way.

Girard’s eyes burned with determination.