Damn Academy - Chapter 91

[Episode 91] The Shadow (14)

Cecil reappeared in front of Candy, her demeanor now a little more assured than when she had left.

He was leaning against the wall, absorbed in reading a book she had selected. So engrossed was he that he didn’t notice her approach.

“Hmm-hmm.”

At Cecil’s throat-clearing, he finally turned his head.

“Follow me. This isn’t a good place to talk.”

She led the way back to the reading room table where she had been sitting.

As they moved, Cecil spoke up.

“You really are tough, coming all the way here and still not taking off the mask.”

“It’s almost part of me now, it’s comfortable. Want one?”

Though she knew he wouldn’t give her one, his words flowed smoothly.

“No need. Why cover up a pretty face with that?”

He extended something from his pocketed hands.

It was a book. The intention to tease her was clear.

She took the book from him, hitting Candy lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey Candy, tell me the truth. You don’t go around campus wearing that mask, right?”

“Why do you think that?”

“I’ve been in the library all night. If you had worn the mask, I would have spotted you at some point. Which means you took it off when you came in.”
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“I came in through the window.”

He said it with such a dry tone that it was oddly convincing.

“You have no shortage of unconvincing lies. So you’re saying, during the day, you go about as an ordinary student, right?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re doing club activities as well? Which one?”

“Hmm… Art club?”

“It’s hard to believe you got into that closed-off art club. They don’t accept cunning guys like Candy.”

“…”

“You must have gone for a less mainstream club… and you probably don’t look too handsome. Attractive people always show their faces. Did you know that? Good-looking guys and pretty girls can’t bear to hide their faces.”

“…”

It was a kind of probing. Each of his reactions could provide a clue to his identity. As Candy remained nonreactive, she made a half-joking consolation.

“It’s okay, Candy. What’s wrong with not being good-looking? As long as you do what a man should, you’re fine.”

After the idle chatter, Cecil tapped the reading room table with her hand.

“Sit down.”

Once Cecil had taken a seat, Candy sat down opposite her.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hands, and said,

“So, why all the secrecy, suddenly turning up in a mask to find me?”

If he hadn’t worn the mask, she might not have recognized him. Wearing the mask meant he definitely had a reason to approach her.

For a moment, he simply looked at Cecil, then he pulled out a note from his pocket and slid it forward.

“Can you translate this?”

“What is it? Let me see.”

Cecil examined the note.

There was writing in three different languages.
T h is w as c o p ie d f r o m k i n gm t l. o r g

“Hmm… the first one is Eastern Empire’s Sankrotis language. The next is Burklurie from the northern part of the continent, and the last one is from the Vongbaron area. Translate it?”

He nodded.

“A human’s body changes depending on what he eats. What I consume is who I am. It seems obvious, but few truly understand this.”

“The advancement of cultivation is a disaster for alchemy. Thanks to cultivation science, the main alchemy schools have lost the concept of regionalism.”
T hi s w a s c op i ed f rom k i n g m t l . o r g

“The discipline most opposed to magic will likely be alchemy.”

Candy fell silent for a moment.

Cecil said to him as if it were simple,

“How is it? Pretty good, right?”

“Yeah.”

Cecil then stretched out her hand expectantly.

“Pay the fee.”

He took out a petal candy from his pocket and placed it in her hand. Without saying a word, they both understood the currency that was accepted in their dealings.

But she wasn’t satisfied yet.

“There are three sentences, so it should be times three.”

“…”

He hesitated but finally gave in, adding two more on top.

Cecil unwrapped one candy and popped it into her mouth before continuing,

“And this. Taken out of context, the sentences seem quite radical. You study alchemy? There must be more than these three. What do you need?”
T hi s w a s c o p i e d f r o m k i ng mt l . or g

The mention of alchemy made her suspect he was preparing for the upcoming joint class.

“I need someone to help with the translations.”

“…Why not just show me the whole text? It would be much easier that way.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Is it related to an alchemy recipe? If that’s the case, I suppose it makes sense. But what exactly do you mean by helping?”

“You’d only be involved with the parts I’m stuck on.”
T h is w a s c o p ie d fr o m ki ng mt l. org

“Then…”

Cecil pondered briefly. Helping wasn’t a problem for her as she could handle a few paragraphs in the time it took to drink a cup of tea.

The issue was what she would gain from helping him.

“Alright. I’ll help you.”

“What are your conditions?”

“Hmm… I don’t have any yet. I’ll put it on your tab.”

Cecil already had a group of four assembled, so she couldn’t recruit him for the joint class. Even if a spot opened and she called him, it was certain he wouldn’t come.

However, even if she didn’t need anything now, he was worth keeping in debt.

Cecil continued,

“Add this to the frost bomb from the entrance exam and we’re even twice. You know that?”

“Yes.”

The corner of Cecil’s lips curled up slightly.

“Good. For now…”

She appeared to suddenly remember something, pulling a black wooden box from her bag. She opened the lid and flipped it, spilling a dozen stitches onto the table. The stitches each had different colors and engravings, attracting Candy’s interested gaze.
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Cecil mulled over her choices before picking out a red stitch and handing it to him.

“Here, take this. Use it when you need to contact me personally. Don’t just show up out of the blue.”

Taking the stitch, he examined it thoughtfully.

“Does it have a special function?”
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“No, they all do the same thing. It’s just pretty.”

She also handed him a palm-sized piece of parchment with a magic circle drawn on it.

“Take this too. It’s for identification. You must carry it to be recognized as the owner of my stitch.”

The magic circle had one more trivial feature, but she didn’t mention it to him.

T h is w a s co pi ed f r o m k in g m t l . o r g
Cecil waited quietly, hoping he would accept without suspicion.

After briefly inspecting it, Candy slid it into his inner pocket and said,

“Thanks.”

“Sure. Keep in touch.”

***

This evening or tomorrow, Silveryn will have received my letter. I made one promise to her, lest she feel neglected by the absence of any messages.

And for that promise, I needed to sincerely participate in the art club classes.

Unfortunately, today’s art club class was canceled due to Professor Georgia’s schedule issues.

Since the alchemy department’s greenhouse was open for art students, I decided to spend some time there.

I grabbed an easel and practiced with charcoal sketches in a corner. Between the dense foliage, Jenia and Pavela, among a few other students, had gradually taken their places and started painting.

After finishing the simple sketches, I headed to the labyrinth.

With Professor Ella’s permission, I settled in Philaion Magic Research Institute’s alchemy brewing room. It was the only place where I could study the recipe without worrying about prying eyes.

NOTE: Magic Institute = Magic Society = Magic Associaton (It’s already too much chapters to synchronize all the term) from now I will use Magic Research Institute (hopefully)

With three language dictionaries, a Vongbaron language primer, and an introduction to alchemy at hand, I delved into translating the recipe.

According to Cecil’s advice, because the grammar of Sankrotis from the Eastern Empire and Burklurie from the northern continent was similar to the common tongue, deciphering the meaning shouldn’t pose much of a problem if I just swapped out the words appropriately. As for Vongbaron language, I used the primer Cecil provided and she agreed to help with any difficult parts.

Whenever I needed a break, I would go outside the labyrinth and send a stitch to Cecil. In less than twenty minutes, her reply would always arrive. Cecil regularly provided the translations I requested and would always include her own daily chatter at the end.

[Are you eating properly? I just had Sankrotis style apple pie and butter cookies. Jealous?]

With her help, my work progressed smoothly.

The second recipe wasn’t so much about combinatory research; it was more of Zverev’s travelogue in his quest for the unknown ‘Tevris’ factor.

Additionally, there were short notes of research aimed at understanding the alchemical traditions of other nations and their unique combinatory principles.
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The essays contained Zverev’s philosophy on alchemy, which were—as Cecil mentioned—rather radical.

Other alchemists might dismiss these writings as the deviations of an outcast from the mainstream, but I could not take them lightly.

I knew they were not forced arguments meant only to attract the attention of the academic community.
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The method prescribed in the recipe for making Griffin Potion significantly deviated from the formulas of mainstream alchemy, yet I had experienced its functions working perfectly in practice.

Learning Zverev’s theoretical foundation and philosophy was essential to master his recipes.

As I progressed through the translations, it became evident that Zverev had traveled through the Eastern Empire’s Sankrotis and the Vongbaron regions before heading north.

And it was in those northern records that I began to uncover clues about the ‘dark spirit’ issue.