A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! — Chapter 97

Chapter 97

Fernan‍ had known Rosalia‍ since before entering‌‍‍ the Academy.

At‌ that time, he‍ was just forming the Golden Pillar‌‍ and preparing his⁠ personal fund, when‍ he ran into‌⁠ her at a banquet.

“Pellenberg?⁠ So you’re the‌‌‌ brat who got‍ into business as‍ a kid and⁠‌ is already overflowing‌ with money.”

She⁠ was looking for‍ a sponsor for‍ her research.

At⁠⁠⁠ first, Fernan didn’t⁠‌⁠ understand why someone‍‌‌ with the backing‍‍ of the Vienderk‍‍ name needed external support.

However,‌ after reviewing her‌ research, he concluded⁠‌ that, as the⁠ Golden Pillar’s first‍ sponsorship, it wasn’t⁠‌‌ a bad choice.‌

And that relationship continued‍‌ to this day.‌

“Maybe‌‌ I didn’t understand‌ everything, but at‌‍ least the experiment‌‍ was a success.”⁠

Even‍ in theory it seemed flawless. If‍⁠ it could be‌‌ presented at the⁠‍ Continental Congress, Fernan‍ could amass a fortune.

Although⁠⁠ he had invested‍‍ enormous amounts of⁠ money and magic⁠ stones, the results⁠ more than made‍ up for the⁠ cost.

Satisfied with the achievements,⁠ Fernan smiled as‌ he imagined a promising future.

But‍⁠⁠ as if to‍ scold him, a sharp headache struck.‍‌

“…Tch?”‍

He‌⁠ looked for a nearby bench and‌ sat down. He‍ closed his eyes,‌ breathing deeply, letting‍ himself be dragged‍‌ by the memories‌‌ that surfaced.

***‌

[ “The Continental Congress? You want us‍‌ to go together?”⁠‍

“Yes.”‌⁠

Aria smiled innocently and⁠ nodded.

“Even‍⁠ though I’m not‍ a mage?”

“What‍‌‍ kind of nonsense‌ is that? It’s not the Magic Congress, it’s the‍⁠‌ Continental Congress. It’s‌‌ not just mages—many‍⁠ knights attend too.”‍

“Really?”‍‌

The‌⁠ truth was, Aint‌ also wanted to go.

Such‍⁠⁠ a prestigious and‌ bustling event across‌‍ the continent, hosted⁠ in turn by‌⁠‍ the prince-electors…

A festival that was⁠‍‌ no longer held‍‍‍ in Armian.

He wanted to see‍ it with his‍‌⁠ own eyes.

And⁠⁠ someday, make it‍⁠ return to Armian.‍

— It wouldn’t be bad to go⁠⁠‍ at least once.⁠ I’m curious too.‌ ]

The‌⁠ first vision showed‌‌ Aint Armian wanting⁠ to attend the Congress with Aria.⁠⁠

And‌⁠‍ there, Fernan understood that the event‍ would not be‌‍ peaceful.

‘That‍ guy always drags trouble wherever he‍⁠ goes.’

Wherever⁠⁠ Aint appeared, incidents involving the corrupted⁠ followed.

It‍‌ was one of‍⁠ the laws Fernan‍ had discovered in⁠ the Book of‍ Prophecies.

[ “A draco? No…⁠ that’s not a normal draco, it’s‍‍‌ a mutant. Look‌‍‍ at its scales and eyes. Why‍‌ is it dying?”‍⁠‍

“It‌ has no energy,⁠ looks exhausted.”

— That’s because its‌ time is up.‌‌ Mutants are more⁠ powerful than normal monsters, but they⁠ consume their life⁠ much faster.

— This one clung‍ too much to‌ life and was‍ left in agony.‌⁠ Put an end⁠ to it.

— And being a mutant, it probably⁠ has a core.‍

Aint⁠‌⁠ cut off the⁠ mutant draco’s head.‍‌

It barely resisted.

Just⁠ as Gardner predicted, he found a small core near⁠‌ its heart. ]

On‍‍‌ the way, Aint‍ and Aria encountered a dying mutant⁠‍ draco and obtained⁠‌ an elixir.

‘A‌⁠⁠ core from a dying mutant draco… What luck.’

Even⁠‍⁠ if its quality⁠⁠ wasn’t the best,‍ it was still‌ an elixir.

[ The great city‍ of Godilita, in⁠ Bienderk lands, overflowed⁠ with people who‍ had come for‍ the Continental Congress.⁠‍

The⁠‍ streets were so⁠ crowded that Aint⁠ thought he had⁠ never seen so‌⁠ many people gathered‍ in one place‍‌ in his life.‌‌

“…Incredible.”‍

“Of⁠‌ course, almost all the mages of‍ the continent come‍ to the Congress.”⁠

And‍ not just them—nobles, merchants, knights, and⁠ mercenaries who escorted‌⁠ them.

It⁠‌ wasn’t surprising that⁠ there were so many people.

“Huh?”‌

“What’s‍ wrong?”

“That‍ person…”

Then‍⁠ Aint saw someone‍ he knew.

“Isn’t‌ that Professor Rosalia?”‌⁠‌ ]

The⁠ next vision showed⁠ Aint and Aria‌⁠ arriving at the‌‌ Congress and encountering‌‌⁠ Rosalia Vienderk.

Fernan‍⁠‍ skimmed through that⁠ part quickly, as‌ what he wanted‌‍‌ was to discover the problem that⁠ would erupt there.‍‌

[ “I will now⁠‍⁠ present something.”

On‌‍ stage, behind Rosalia,‍⁠ a large white‌⁠ sheet was pulled‌‌ away.

Beneath‌‍⁠ it appeared a gigantic ice orb.‌

Overflowing⁠ mana emanated from⁠‍‍ it.

Its‌ surface was covered‍ in countless inscriptions‌ and magical circles.‌‌⁠

“It‌‌‌ is a new‍ form of magic‍‌ stone, capable of‍ changing the order‍ of the world.” ]

[ “This is…”

Rosalia,‌‌‍ who had maintained‌‌ a calm face the whole time,⁠⁠ began to look‌‌ distorted.

More‍ than a thousand‌ engravings and magic‌⁠ circles shone irregularly,⁠‌ releasing a strange energy flow.

“Is‌‌‌ that okay?”

“What’s‍ happening?”

“I⁠‌ feel a bad‌ omen…”

Most of the attendees‌⁠ were powerful mages‍ and immediately understood⁠⁠ that this wasn’t what Rosalia had planned.

“Stop⁠‍⁠ the magic immediately!”

“Cut the artifact’s power!”

But‍ it was already‌⁠ too late.

The‌ artificial magic stone⁠⁠⁠ concentrated an immense‍ amount of mana⁠‌⁠ and shot it‍‍‍ into the sky.‌‍

The⁠‌‌ accumulated power tore⁠ through space itself,‌ opening a rift.

From‌⁠ that rift emerged—

A silver winged horse,⁠ and a man riding it.

“…What⁠ is that?”

“A⁠‍ pegasus?”

“No…‌‌ that’s not a pegasus. That aura‍ is repulsive.”

“A demon?”

No,‍⁠‌ it was neither⁠ horse nor human.⁠‌

— …Damn it. Seir!‍⁠‍ Aint, watch out!‌ That’s Seir, demon‍ number 70!

A demon had descended‌⁠ upon the Continental Congress. ]

“…What…?”‍

Fernan’s‍ jaw dropped.

Now‌ he clearly understood‌⁠ why the prophecy⁠‍‌ spoke of ruin.‌⁠

***

They‌ say that when‌⁠ someone is too shocked, they can’t⁠⁠ even speak.

Fernan‍⁠ experienced that for‍‌ the first time⁠ in his life.

He‌‍ couldn’t utter a word.

It‌⁠‌ was as if‍‍ his mouth were full of sand.‍

He‍ couldn’t breathe, cold⁠ sweat ran down‌⁠ his back, and⁠ his eyes reddened‍ with blood.

What‌⁠ to do?

How?‍

How?‍‌

Nothing‍ came to mind.‌

If that were to‍ happen, what would⁠ come next?

The‌‌ only certainty was⁠‌ that the catastrophe⁠ would drag down‍‌ two people beyond‍ salvation.

The‍‍ creator, Rosalia Vienderk,‌‍ and her sponsor,⁠‌⁠ Fernan Pellenberg.

‘That’s‌ how it is…‌‌ one after another,‍ and in the‌ end, everything explodes‌⁠‍ in a single‌‌⁠ blow.’

That‌‍ would be the‍ reason for his⁠⁠ expulsion from the‌ family, for that⁠ nightmare to repeat⁠ itself.

‘Was‍⁠ all my effort until now pointless?’‌⁠

No.‌ He had managed‌‌‌ to change many⁠‌ futures.

His‌ relationship with Luina was excellent, he‍ had gained Aint’s‌ cooperation, turned Verian into an ally‌ when he was‍ supposed to disappear‍⁠‌ in silence, and‌⁠ had prevented several⁠⁠ tragedies.

There‌‍‍ were accomplishments.

But if this disaster came to pass,‍ it would all‌ end the same—Fernan⁠ would be finished.⁠

Nothing⁠ before would matter.‌‍

Because‍‌‍ this was a demonic summoning.

And⁠ worse, at a public event, with‍ the intent of⁠‌⁠ massacring the gathered‌‌ nobility.

‘So‍ what’s the issue,‌‍ then?’

He‍⁠ saw three possibilities.

That‌ Rosalia Vienderk was⁠‍‍ a corrupted.

That‍ her assistants were.‍‌‍

Or⁠ that another hidden‍ corrupted within the‌⁠⁠ Academy had sabotaged⁠‌ everything.

Fernan⁠‌‌ covered his face‍‍ with his hand.‌

Whatever‍‌ the case, the⁠‌ result would be‌ the same.

He‌ had to resolve⁠‌ it.

No matter the cost.‌

***‌

Fernan‍‌ returned to his‌ lodging and reviewed‍‌ once again the⁠ list of suspected‍ corrupted that his⁠ father had sent‌‍ him.

But⁠⁠ neither Rosalia Vienderk⁠ nor any of‌ her assistants appeared⁠ on it.

“…Damn⁠⁠ it.”

If‍ at least they‍‍‌ had appeared, he⁠‍‌ could’ve targeted them⁠ and started a direct investigation.

But‌⁠‍ now he had‌‍ to start from‍‌ scratch.

“Young⁠‍ master, you called…?‌⁠ Are you alright?‍‌ You look pale.”‌⁠

It‌ was Hyde, who had just entered.‌‌

“Hyde.”‍

“Yes.”‍

“Go‌⁠ right now to‌‍ the temple and‍ bring me Jace‌ Vynes. Tell him‌‌ I asked for‍⁠⁠ him.”

“You‍ mean Jace Vynes?”‍

“And‌‌ also Aint Armian.”‌‍‍

“Those‍‌ two, so suddenly?”⁠

“Also,‌‍⁠ deliver this letter⁠ in secret to Professor Rosalia.”

“Huh?”‌‌‍

Hyde⁠‍‍ flinched at the⁠ barrage of orders⁠⁠ but received the⁠ letter seriously.

“What’s‌ all this about?”

“I‌ saw something terrible.”‌‌

“Come⁠ again?”

“If‌⁠‍ my suspicion is‍ right, my life⁠ is over.”

“…I⁠ understand less and‍‌ less.”

“In Professor Rosalia’s research,‍‍ I noticed something strange. I think‌‌ it might involve⁠ forbidden magic.”

The words forbidden magic⁠‍ immediately changed Hyde’s‌⁠ expression.

“…Are⁠ you sure?”

“That’s‍ what we need‍ to confirm now.”⁠‍

For‍ that, he needed‍ Aint Armian and⁠⁠ Jace Vynes.

At‌ least regarding forbidden⁠⁠ magic, they were‌‍⁠ two of the‍ highest authorities he‌⁠ could consult.

The‌⁠ Pope would’ve been‍⁠⁠ better than a saint, but Fernan⁠‍‍ couldn’t summon someone‌ of that rank.⁠

“I’ll‍ go at once.”‌‍⁠

Hyde‌⁠ left. Fernan also⁠ began preparing to‌⁠‍ go out.

His destination: a hidden‌‍ chamber in a shop owned by‍ the Golden Turtle‍‍ Guild.

He‍ waited sitting until the door opened‍‍‍ and the first‍ visitor appeared.

“You‍‌ called me, brother?”‍‌

It⁠⁠ was the money-obsessed magic lunatic.

“Did‍ you bring what‌ I asked for?”‌⁠‍

“Of⁠⁠ course. Did you find another corrupted?”⁠

“For‍ now, just a suspicion. But this⁠‌⁠ time, it’s not‍ just about finding⁠ them—I need your‌⁠‍ magical skill.”

“If you pay my‍ fee, I’m always⁠‌ happy to obey,⁠ brother!”

Jace‌ grinned crookedly and‌ took a seat.‍

“So,‍ what’s this about?”‍

“Wait⁠‍ a bit.”

“Someone⁠ else coming besides⁠ me?”

“Yes.”‌

Soon, footsteps echoed outside.‍‌ The door opened‍ and the gazes‍ of two young⁠‌⁠ men met.

“Aint⁠⁠ Armian?”

“Jace⁠⁠ Vynes?”

They‌ were in the‍ same year, but‍ had barely interacted.⁠ At that strange‍ pairing, both looked‌ at Fernan.

“Aint,‍‍ have a seat.‍‍‍ I have something‍ to tell you.”‌‍

“Yes,‌ senior.”

Huuu…‍‍ Now gathered, Fernan forced himself to‍‍ take a deep‌ breath.

“Listen‌ carefully.”

He‌ didn’t do it‌ on purpose, but‌ his voice came‌⁠‌ out lower, filled‍ with tension.

“I’ve discovered the corrupted’s‍ next plan. And⁠ to stop it,‍⁠ I need your⁠‍‍ help.”

“……!”‍

“……!”‍‌‍

***‍⁠⁠

Scrib⁠ scrib—

Rosalia’s‍‍‌ pen moved ever‍ faster over the‍‌‌ documents.

For‍ someone who wanted‍⁠ to dedicate every‌ last moment to⁠ her research, that‍‌‍ paperwork was just‌‍ an obstacle.

And‌ with Fernan’s interruptions,‍ the delays were⁠⁠‌ even worse.

‘I’m‍ exhausted.’

How⁠⁠ many nights had‍ she gone without sleep?

Though‍ her mage’s body⁠ was far more‌‌ resilient than a normal human’s, she‍ was still human‍‌‍ in the end.‍

Fatigue⁠ accumulated like a snowball.

But‌ she couldn’t afford‍ to rest. The‌⁠ fruit of years‌ of work was near, and the‌‌ Continental Congress was just two weeks‍ away.

Click.

She⁠ lit a magic‌‍ cigarette. One puff‌‌ was enough to‍ clear her muddled‍ mind.

Knock‌⁠ knock—

“Professor,‍⁠ student Fernan sent a letter.”

An‍‍ assistant entered and‍‌ handed her an⁠‍ envelope.

“A‌⁠ letter? But he⁠ was here just‌ an hour ago.”

“I‌‌‌ don’t know either,⁠‍‍ professor…”

“You may go.”

“Yes.”‍

Rosalia⁠‌ opened the letter.‍‍

And⁠ as soon as‌‍ she read its‍‌ contents:

[All⁠⁠ sponsorships are hereby⁠⁠ canceled, and all‌ previously delivered research⁠‌ materials will be‌ withdrawn… (omitted)… If⁠⁠ you object, present‌⁠ yourself at the‌‌ tea house of the Golden Turtle‌‌ Guild.]

“…What‍⁠ a funny joke‍ you’re playing, Fernan.”‍

The⁠ cigarette snapped between⁠ her fingers.

Sleep vanished completely.