Damn Academy - Chapter 177

[Episode 177] Suspicion (7)

Luna spent her time in the Witthrush Hall dormitory, piling dried flowers on her desk and separating their seeds into a bowl. This was her evening routine. The Belum flowers, plucked from the foothills of Grace Mountain where the earth’s magic was rich, were ideal to feed the ethereal spirits.

After thirty minutes of separating seeds, Luna slid open her window. The spirits of Damian always flew to her dormitory window at the appointed time.

She found a simple joy in fattening up that spirit.

Perched on the windowsill, Luna waited for the spirit’s arrival.

Eight o’clock.

Yet when the time came, the spirit did not appear.

“…It’s late.”

The spirit, which adored Belum flower seeds to the point of obsession, was nowhere to be seen even after ten, twenty minutes had passed.
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An hour went by and sensing something was wrong, she cautiously leaned out the window and whispered.
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“…Peep?”

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Damian’s spirit did not respond.

***

That night, Olivia called me out in front of the dormitory. She had a detailed story to share.

“Ruskeus doesn’t use fire elemental magic. I am sorry.”

Olivia apologized for employing solely fire magic in our mock duel.

“It’s okay.”

As we walked together in the night, Olivia offered her advice.

“That guy mainly uses ice elemental magic. He’s not outstanding in swordsmanship or magic, but he knows how to use what he has effectively, making him a tricky opponent to tackle.”

“Is it alright for you to tell me this?”

Getting caught providing me with information wouldn’t end well for her.

“Just win. I don’t want to see someone like Ruskeus, a person with a fractured personality, become even more arrogant.”

“If I win, what do you gain?”

“A sense of satisfaction, I suppose. I also wanted to see him get beaten.”

“…”

Indeed, Olivia bore newly darkened scars. She seemed to care for them, but the ones on her back and the back of her thighs were distinctly visible. They looked like marks from a whip or cane. Having been on the receiving end of blows myself, I knew those types of wounds all too well.

“You would have figured it out even if I hadn’t told you. He tends to not be subtle about it.”

“About what?”

“That he can also use magic.”

I responded calmly.

“Isn’t it good to use magic? Something to boast about.”

Olivia, perhaps because she had been keeping it inside for so long, went on a tirade about Ruskeus.

“Listen up. There’s something truly nauseating about him. He thinks he’s born with the blood of a mage.”

“Isn’t every mage born with it?”

“It’s different. Some learn and train for years to use magic, while others are naturals from birth. Most are the former. The latter, the naturals, are geniuses who use magic instinctively since infancy. They’re formally known as ‘Children of the Stars.'”

“Uh-huh…”

“The most sickening part is Ruskeus acting as if he’s one of the ‘Children of the Stars.’ And what’s worse, some people actually believe him!”

“Is it hard to distinguish?”

“Yes. One of the most notable traits of the ‘Children of the Stars’ is that the environment changes according to their mood. Like when they get angry, the wind might suddenly start blowing, or it might rain, or flocks of crows might gather… things like that.”

Such supernatural phenomena manifesting based on mood were indeed mystical. When I recalled the most skilled mage I knew… There were moments when it inexplicably got hotter while I was with Silveryn. Perhaps that was why.

Olivia continued her explanation.

“Ruskeus subtly chants and releases a chill around him when his mood shifts. Then he postures like some prodigy mage. Isn’t that just sickening?”

“It does sound difficult to be around.”

“Exactly, it’s dreadful. Honestly, I wish he’d get a proper scolding from a real mage. He needs to know his place.”

“…”

Realizing she had perhaps gotten overly excited, Olivia cleared her throat.
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“Ahem, anyway, Ruskeus does have some skill. I can tell you about his habits and specialties, but… the rest you’ll have to figure out on your own.”

***

If I were ‘Candy,’ defeating Ruskeus wouldn’t be difficult. The challenge is winning the duel evaluation without revealing that identity in public.

Based on what Olivia said, Ruskeus surely isn’t an easy opponent.

I have elemental magic defense artifacts, but Cecil modified them, so I couldn’t flaunt them during the evaluation.

Recently, even Cecil has been acting a bit strange, and I have to live up to my reputation as both Silveryn’s disciple and a former guardian knight.

Contemplating over these complicated matters, I decided to visit ‘Philaion’s Forge’ again, deep in Rigved.

With the break day dawning, I headed out as soon as the morning sun rose.

The shopkeeper remembered me from just one encounter and brought up the wooden sword right away.

“Ah, so the wooden sword didn’t suit you?”

“No, it’s quite useful. I just need another sword for a different purpose.”

I have three swords: one given by Silveryn, the sapling sword, and the magic sword. The only one I can use in the duel is Silveryn’s, which although sturdy, lacks special features. To face a magic swordsman like Ruskeus… I needed something more special.

“Where’s that wooden sword?”

He seemed more interested in the wooden sword than in me.

I drew the wooden sword from my waist and presented it. His eyes widened, clearly not expecting it to be in good condition.

“Just wait here.”

He returned wearing special gloves, carefully handling the sword as if it were coated in poison, then chuckled.

“Good condition, indeed.”

“…?”

“Lasted longer than I thought. How much magic has it absorbed? The edge is sharper, and it’s taken on a sheen.”

Then he transformed the wooden sword back into the shape of a sapling.

“See this? It’s grown.”

“…Really?”

“I didn’t pay that much attention.”
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“Can you tell just by looking?”

“Of course. This troublesome thing grew most under your care, more than all the years combined.”

“…Does it improve as it grows?”

“Suppose it will absorb more magic.”

“…”

That wouldn’t be good. I must only absorb as much as I can handle.

“Hmm. Carry it as you can. The sword will adjust to your state, I suppose.”

“The sword does that?”

“It’s not a sword but a plant. Naturally, it adapts and changes to its environment.”

“…”

“Lucky it found a proper master. I was worried after I let it go.”
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“Who was its original owner?”

His expression soured as he conjured up the memory.

“Hmm… an unnamed elf. He wasn’t the first owner either, just found it somewhere. Came one day saying he couldn’t handle it and handed it over to me.”

“Did he leave any other words?”

“Mentioned it would bloom when fully grown. Said he didn’t have the confidence to raise it until then. That’s all.”

What might it look like fully grown? Surely not as massive as a great tree.

I took the wooden sword back, pondering its future growth. I’ll raise it as long as I can manage.

“So, you need another sword?”

“Yes.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Perhaps another troublesome sword.”

“Heh, I may have one.”

My curiosity piqued, I probed further.

“How troublesome is it?”

He grimaced slightly and waved a hand dismissively.

“You won’t need to handle it. It’s cursed. Let’s head to the storeroom.”

Leading me down to the underground storehouse as before, he broached a new topic.

“If you have abundant magic, you have more options. Interested in an enchanted sword?”

“I don’t know much about them.”

“…Need something durable?”

“That would be ideal, but not my priority.”

“An enchanted sword isn’t bad. It comes with various functional enchantments, but they’re consumable. They last months at best, weeks at worst. So, what exact feature do you need?”

“…I need something hot enough to slice through ice.”

“Hmm…”

The shopkeeper mulled over my particular request as he rummaged through the storeroom.

Eventually, after muttering to himself, he pulled out a dust-covered sword and handed it to me.

“How about this one?”

***

Testing the new sword at the foot of Grace Mountain, I found the enchanted sword from Philaion’s Forge met my requirements. Though not high-level enchantment, it performed the functions I needed.

Moreover, it had decent durability for an enchanted sword, promising a longer lifespan than most. With the magic consumption far less than the sapling sword, there was no concern. It was certainly usable.
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While I was getting accustomed to Plantara, someone came looking for me.

“Damian…”

It was Luna, but she looked far more troubled than usual.

“Luna? What’s wrong?”

“Peep… isn’t responding…”

Peep?

If she meant the spirit I had contracted with, that was concerning. I knew she played with it… but not responding?

I paused the test and wiped off sweat with a handkerchief.

“How often does it not respond?”

“It’s never happened before… It’s strange. I sense its energy, but…”

“…?”

I concentrated immediately, calling out to the spirit mentally.

And for the first time, the obedient spirit failed to appear at my call.

“It doesn’t respond to me either.”

The situation was definitely problematic. What to do in such an instance was unclear, but Luna’s grave expression indicated this wasn’t something to take lightly.

“Do you know what to do, Luna?”

Could the spirit be going through a rebellious phase, or had it developed an aversion to my magic?

Luna shook her head.

“This shouldn’t be happening… It’s odd… it’s like someone has captured it.”

Someone kidnapped my spirit? How is that even possible?

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“…Is Peep still within Eternia?”

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“Yes. I can still feel its energy.”

“Let’s start looking for it.”

“…Peep frequents certain places… I’ll start there.”

***
After Damian left, Luna summoned all the lower spirits she could command.

“Peep… if you feel its energy, tell me.”

Hundreds of spirits in the form of squirrels, eagles, leopards, and more creatures signaled they understood her command.

They scattered in all directions with military precision.

Unable to just wait, Luna began searching in the areas Peep often visited.

The largest oak tree on the outskirts of the student plaza.

The chestnut tree that had a view of room 31F of Witthrush Hall.

The garden in front of the central library, where the multicolored flowers bloomed.

She searched every nook, breathless, but Peep’s energy was faint.

It was nowhere to be seen, and even Luna, who was sensitive to spirits more than anyone, couldn’t trace it.

Damian and Luna regrouped at the front of Witthrush Hall to consolidate their findings.

“I’ve checked the Northern Village, and there’s Southern Village left. Haven’t searched the Clock Tower or the Guardian Tree yet.”

Luna said.

“I’ll visit the Guardian Tree.”

“Okay. I’ll take a look at the Clock Tower.”

They decided to search Southern Village together, where the senior dormitories were located, then set off once more.

When Damian departed, Luna swiftly moved towards the Guardian Tree.

Along the forest path, she heard a faint cry.

“Peep, peep!”

It was inaudible to the average ear, but Luna could detect it. Though faint, it was undoubtedly Peep’s voice.

She scribbled on a note that Peep was nearby, placed it in the beak of an eagle-shaped wind spirit, and sent it straight to Damian.

Then, Luna ran towards the source of the sound.

Past the dense trees, an open clearing emerged, with a tall white tree standing alone—the Guardian Tree.

“Peep!”

Now, Peep’s cries were clearly audible.

A mysterious woman stood in front of the Guardian Tree, her hair a pale blue hue, emanating a mesmerizing magic that disoriented the senses, and the air around her grew chilled.

Luna felt the world fall silent for a moment.

And on the woman’s hand perched Peep.

Sensing Luna’s presence, the woman slowly turned her head.

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Their eyes met.