Damn Academy - Chapter 20

[Chapter 20] Weisel

T h is w a s c op i ed f r o m k i n g m t l . org
A violent downpour beat against the balcony doors. Dawn had yet to break.

“Damn it….”

His whole body was slick with sweat. The dream. That damned dream again.

He had once worried for a time. How could he distinguish between the dreams that were divine revelations and those that were mere figments of his imagination?

Now he thought he wouldn’t be able to mistake one for the other. The supposed revelations seared into his mind like branding iron.

The horrific scene at the workshop was still etched in his memory.

The hooded figures seemed to be gathering people related to him and searching for his whereabouts.

The woman’s familiar silver hair, which he felt he could never forget in his lifetime, looked just like Liza’s.

It pained his heart to dredge up a name he had temporarily buried.

Was Liza looking for him?

Months ago, he might have been overjoyed. He would have excitedly rushed off to find her before she found him.

Since separating from Liza, he had indulged in the delusion of her returning to him hundreds of times.

The imaginations were sweet, but he knew all too well that those fantasies could never become reality.

Liza had no reason to abandon her stability and greater happiness to seek him out.

And now, he, too, had no intention of going back.

No matter how he thought about it, there was no reason for Liza to come looking for him.

Yes, it couldn’t be Liza. He didn’t want to believe it.

He didn’t want to reunite like that.

Silver hair wasn’t unique to Liza.

When the source of magic blooms to maturity, the hair of the Pascal lineage turns silver, just like Liza’s. The orchestrator of the ordeal could belong to the Pascal family.

He had no idea what business they had with him, but it was within the realm of possibility since they probably harbored ill will towards him.

They seemed willing to harm people dear to him to get to him.

The priests and nuns of the Acates temple. As long as they were involved with him, they too were in danger.

That meant he needed to take action first.

But how?

What could he do?

No clear method came to mind.

***

Silveryn gazed out the window for a moment. When the season changes, it always brings heavy rain.

As it gets colder, it’s harder to gather herbs. Before winter arrives, she had to stock up the storeroom with herbs.

A maid brought a potion, the steam wafting from it, supported in thick cloth.

“How much supplies are left?”

“Only enough for two weeks.”

They had exhausted most of the potion supplies on Damian and the girl.

There was quite a bit to do.

She looked at the girl lying in the bed. She hadn’t regained consciousness since suffering shock from the ghoul attack.
Th i s w as c op i e d fr om ki n g mt l. o rg

Silveryn called for the butler. The butler approached her.

“It’s about time for Damian to get up, tell him there’s no training today. And prepare a carriage to visit the village.”

“Understood.”

Thi s was c o p i ed f r om k i n g m tl . o r g
Moments later, the butler hurried back to Silveryn with a sense of urgency.

He was panting heavily.

“Master Damian has disappeared.”

“What are you talking about?”
T h i s was c o pi e d f r o m k i n g mt l . o rg

“We’ve searched the entire estate, and he’s nowhere to be found.”

Silveryn sighed.

***

Silveryn, an umbrella in hand, walked along the lakefront. The rain was so fierce she could hardly see a few steps ahead. The umbrella was nearly useless against the torrential downpour.

Arriving at her destination, Silveryn encountered the training grounds where a boy, drenched like a soaked rat, was moving logs. It was Damian.

The logs, soaked with water and sticking into the mud, were stubborn. His feet slid and dug through the mud as he pushed. It was a losing battle, but he seemed determined not to give up.

His shoulders, forearms, and side had been scraped raw against the tree bark, mixing with rainwater to stain them red.

It was both pitiful and almost excruciating to witness.

Perhaps because of the noisy rain, Damian was unaware that Silveryn was observing him from nearby.

A troubled expression painted Silveryn’s face.

“We have enough firewood for use till next spring.”
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With that, Damian finally turned his head.

“Thanks to someone working hard.”

“…Teacher.”

Damian’s face was shadowed.

Silveryn glanced at the bloodied chunks of wood.

“Sigh, this is why I said not to train on rainy days. What am I supposed to do if you go out early without saying anything?”

Silveryn slightly lifted the hem of her skirt. Despite the umbrella, the wind had soaked most of her dress.

“Now my dress for going out is all ruined.”

“I’m sorry.”

There was something off about Damian’s face.

This was not the Damian that Silveryn knew.

She was aware that Damian had a dark past he couldn’t discuss, but she had never seen his inner darkness overshadow him as heavily as it did now.

“Damian, what’s wrong?”

“…”

Silveryn’s expression tensed.

Something had definitely happened.

“It’s nothing.”

She moved closer to Damian. She cared little that her feet sank into the mud, staining her dress.

Then she stood in front of him, stooping slightly to meet his eye level.

With one hand, she touched his cheek and then, using her thumb, wiped away the trickling raindrops.

“You don’t realize how fortunate you are. I don’t just take any student.”

“…”

“You’re still too young to truly grasp what responsibility means. It’s only when you grow older, gain status and power, that you realize the weight of responsibility.”

“…”

“Listen. I didn’t just bring you along. I brought you with the intent to take responsibility for you.”

Silveryn spoke with a soothing tone.

“So now, you can rely on your teacher.”

Finally, after a long silence, Damian lifted his head.

***

Damian and Silveryn were on their way back to the mansion.

Damian spoke to Silveryn about the dream. The hooded figures in his dream. People kidnapped to find Damian’s whereabouts. And the massacre.

Even a foreboding sense that this dream might come true.

He left out the part about Liza.

“That could be a prophecy. Since you stayed at the Acates temple, there’s a slight possibility. But don’t put too much faith in dreams. Seeing the future is not as rare and profound as you might think.”

“It’s not rare?”

“Don’t all children with magical talent see the future?”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Those children see the future from infancy. So clearly they can’t distinguish it from reality.”

To Damian, the explanation was hard to accept.

“As they grow a bit, learn language, and start to acquire human knowledge, their souls begin to be tainted, and their ability completely disappears. Once their brains develop, they forget entirely that they could see the future.”

“Magic is a baffling thing.”

“Right. And the prophetic dream is what comes out when that power is dying. By that time, it’s all jumbled up with the subconscious; imprecise and useless.”

“…!”

“Your dream is just a dying prophecy. It might have some use if you utilize it properly.”

Though it was ‘dying,’ to Damian it was valuable information.

“Still, I want to prepare thoroughly.”
Thi s w a s c o pi ed fr o m k i n g m t l . o r g

“How do you plan to prepare?”

Silveryn’s question plunged Damian into contemplation.

For her part, Silveryn seemed to give up on sheltering from the rain as she folded her umbrella amidst the torrential downpour.

The little that remained dry of Silveryn’s upper body and hair was now soaked.

She seemed to be in high spirits, charging ahead and jumping into puddles with both feet.

The puddled rainwater splashed in all directions.

Following that, Silveryn kicked at the puddles, enthusiastically splashing water at Damian.

“This is for getting my outing dress wet.”

Droplets from the puddle splashed all over Damian’s body. However, it was a futile gesture as he was already drenched through.

“Teacher…?”

Could one really become so innocently joyful in such a situation?

He called her with a stunned expression, and only then Silveryn returned to the main point, though she kept kicking water around.

“You just do what you normally do. What’s there to worry about when I’m here?”

“If we just keep hiding like this, those people will find and threaten those close to me.”

Silveryn stopped splashing her feet and looked at him meaningfully.

“No, you’re not hiding.”

“…?”

Without explaining further, Silveryn playfully changed the subject.

“We need to hurry up and get the herbs.”

Then she turned briskly and walked off ahead.

***

A black carriage entered the town’s market street. Due to the ceaseless rain, the streets were deserted.

The carriage stopped in front of a small shop.

The coachman stepped down, opened the carriage door and held up an umbrella to shield from the rain, waiting patiently.

Silveryn, now fresh and changed into clean clothes after a bath, stepped out of the carriage.

Damian followed after her.

Silveryn opened the store’s door first and stepped inside. Damian, who followed her in, scanned the interior.

Baskets of herbs were densely arranged by type.

A middle-aged woman tidying up the herbs greeted them. She squinted and then, recognizing their faces, gasped in surprise.

“Welcome… Oh my!”

Damian looked puzzled.

“Oh dear, oh dear, please wait just a moment. It won’t take long!”

She hastily entered a curtained room at the entrance. Soon after, the sound of a small squabble could be heard from inside.

“No, mom, wait! I’m not ready!”

A young woman, pushed out of the room, stumbled out.

She caught sight of Damian and Silveryn’s faces and paused to catch her breath.

“Ah, welcome!”

She bowed her head and sneakily glanced up at the two with her eyes slightly raised. Catching Damian’s gaze, she quickly averted her eyes.

Then she casually tossed her loose hair behind her ears.

“Do you need anything?”

Silveryn handed her a note.

“Yes, give me everything written here.”

The girl took the note and murmured the contents.

T hi s w as c o p i ed f r o m k i n g mt l .o rg
“Black kale… Moonleaf… Malinda stem… Ah, for Deronia root and Eagle’s petal, you’ll have to go to the store to the right. We’ll take care of the rest for you.”

“Good.”

Silveryn glanced to the side.

“Damian, don’t you need anything?”

T h is w as c o p i ed f r o m k i ng m t l. o r g
“I… just a moment.”

Damian was holding a list of ingredients and a herbal encyclopedia, checking the display of strewn herbs. He seemed flustered about what to buy.

A shop assistant, catching Silveryn’s eye, sidled up to Damian.

“Let me help you.”

She peeked at Damian’s list.

“This is for a Colohesst-based concoction.”

She pointed out the herbs directly.

“If so, you definitely need these first. If you need help next time, come by. You don’t need to bring money. I’ll help you.”

The attendant approached Damian with an attitude of enthusiasm.

“…Thank you.”

After making the purchases and getting ready to move to the next shop, the attendant followed with a small wooden box in her hand.

She then handed the box to Damian.

“Here, this tea leaves are grown by the shop itself.”

The box, just by its processed look, seemed valuable.

‘Why give me this?’ Damian looked at the box questioningly.

The attendant explained, flustered.

“That… it’s not for sale or anything, it’s a gift! It’s good for someone as physically active as you!”

Damian had an inkling that something was amiss.

Entering the next shop, an even stranger occurrence unfolded.

The owner welcomed them with open arms. Recognizing Damian, he offered his hand for a shake.

“It’s a true honor to meet you.”

He then informed him about the nickname ‘The Butcher of Youth.’

That’s what the villagers were calling him.

Damian was momentarily lost for words when he heard the grim moniker.

As they moved around the market, numerous stories unfolded.

On the way back to the carriage, Damian asked Silveryn.

“Since when did Weisel become the ‘home of my soul’?”

It was an old folk song about the many figures who had passed through Weisel, to which a wandering bard had added a tale about Damian.

‘No one knows his birthplace, but the home of his soul lies in Weisel.’

They misunderstood that Damian had been rooted in Weisel for a long time.

“I told you. They’re obsessed with new stories because it’s too peaceful here. Did you think they would leave a hero who saved the village alone?”

Admittedly it was only ghouls, but it was a threat to the entire village. Even if not for Damian, the ghouls would have been eradicated somehow, but Damian took it upon himself to leave a strong impression.

Add to that Damian’s appearance, the backing of the Eternia Academy, his veiled prowess in swordplay, and the knights’ covert support—all these contributed to the current state of affairs.

Silveryn mockingly sang a tune.

“He struck down ninety-nine ghouls~”

Damian, embarrassed, found it hard to lift his face.

He thought the villagers were overreacting.

“You have no idea what you’ve stirred up, do you? It might be exaggerated, but the word must have spread far and wide among the knights and Weisel’s highborn.”

“…?”

If it was the ‘highborn,’ she was referring to the noble social circles.

Silveryn smiled mischievously.

“Do you still think you’re hiding? My student, those people from your dreams might already be racing toward Weisel to find you.”

If so, Silveryn was bound to be involved too. Yet, she seemed almost eager for them to come searching.

***
T his w as c op i e d f r o m k i n gmt l . o r g

Just a little further and they would be at Weisel’s borders.

Five black carriages bearing the emblem of Eternia were traveling in a line across the plain. A huge wagon, carrying something indiscernible, trailed at the rear.

In the lead carriage rode Gaiel, the associate professor of Eternia’s Combat Department, accompanied by her protege, a second-year combat student named Flynn.

Flynn was on edge, not for a moment able to relax.

It wasn’t just the carriage behind; an unexpected figure rode inside.

Only when it was announced that a reclusive person would join the exam did Flynn realize this was no ordinary event.

Though unclear about the exact nature of the exam, Flynn understood that this vast number of people were going to assess just one child.

All this for just one.

What on earth was this?

“Professor.”

“What is it?”

“Did you anticipate this happening?”

“This event was beyond my expectations as well.”

Suddenly the carriage ground to a halt. The coachman shouted.

“Gu, ghouls!”

Flynn peered out of the window.

A carriage, seemingly belonging to a noble, was halted in the distance, and knights surrounded it, facing off against about a dozen ghouls.

Gaiel hurried out of the carriage to come to their aid.

Flynn followed her.

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Drawing his sword, he watched as runes began to glow upon the blade, and a mist started to rise from its steel.

At that moment, Flynn had no idea.

He was about to hear the name of the very child he would be examining from those he was about to aid.