The Academy’s Deceased Ate It All

"Ah, would it be all right if I asked you for one more thing?"

Evangelline, who'd been carefully picking up the pouch, gave a small startled twitch.

She looked at me with an anxious gaze that seemed to carry a clear message: Don't tell me you're calling it off now.

I smiled faintly to reassure her.

"I'd like you to make me three separate artifacts with defensive and emergency-call functions. The shape and size are up to you. If you need extra payment, I'll cover it later, of course."

She let out a small breath of relief and asked, "Uh… well, when you've already ordered more than ten, a few more doesn't make much difference. But what are those for?"

"They're for you, Miss Evangelline."

"…huh?"

For a moment she looked genuinely caught off guard.

At my follow-up, she nodded slowly, as if she understood.

It was an insurance policy for the three people most likely to be Landschi's targets.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing…"

She was squinting at me, eyes slightly narrowed.

She clicked her tongue and said, "So if we're being technical—you're giving me a gift?"

"Well… you could put it that way."

"And right now you're asking me to make that gift with my own hands?"

Evangelline pursed her lips and muttered the words.

Her unexpectedly grumpy reaction caught me completely off guard for a second.

What was this? Why was she suddenly acting like that?

Before I could say anything, she tucked the pouch into her robe and rose from her seat.

"It's not exactly graceful of me, but when a client—and, hmm, possibly my future employer—makes a special request, what can I do?"

Speaking in that signature unhurried voice of hers, she gave me a wink with one eye.

"I'll work hard and bring you something amazing enough to knock you off your feet."

"…Then I'll be counting on you. How should I send the detailed request forms?"

"Hmm, for that, you can send them to my guild, Blue Sap… no, wait."

She shook her head and pulled a phone out of her robe.

Watching her, I couldn't help an idle thought about what kind of magic was on that robe, with things constantly coming out of and going back into it.

"We haven't swapped numbers yet, right?"

"Didn't we, last time?"

"That one was for business. This one's for my personal life."

She smiled lazily and handed me the phone.

I entered my number and gave it back, and she hit the call button—waiting until she'd confirmed my phone was ringing before giving a small nod.

"Yeah, you can send things here. If text or email feels off, you can just call."

"I'll be in your hands."

"Yes, yes. Take care of yourself, then, young master of the World Tree."

She walked all the way to the door, then turned her head back with an "oh, right."

"Thanks for trusting me with this work. Honestly, there are plenty of skilled crafters besides me. The reason you're bringing it specifically to me is the friendship we've built up, isn't it?"

I nodded at her smiling words, and a small laugh slipped out of her.

"Nothing beats personal connections at times like this. That's why I keep doing the Ten Powerhouses thing even when it's a pain."

…The Great Witch, who in the original work had already drawn her last breath fighting to save people, yet whose body kept casting magic through pure transcendent will until the very end—the legend of her death—stood there grinning at me.

"This is just my personal take, but I think you and I could afford to be a bit closer. Don't you?"

With that, she gave me one more goodbye telling me to take care, closed the door, and was gone.

I felt utterly drained and let myself slump back into the chair.

"…"

"Rauné? What's wrong, were you stuck down there?"

Rauné, who'd been hiding in my pocket, suddenly clambered onto the table with a series of soft whimpers.

It bounced in place, looking up at me with a string of boing-boing sounds.

Its whole attitude was look this way, pay attention, so I straightened up in my seat.

"…"

"What is it, huh?"

It pointed at the door Evangelline had left through, then mimed something—tucking something into its chest, pulling it back out—and held its roots out toward me, as if asking for something.

On a hunch, I pulled out one of the many scales I'd been keeping stored in the shadow.

"Don't tell me—you want this?"

"…!!!"

Apparently I had it right.

Worried it might hurt itself, I smoothed the edges of the scale before carefully passing it over.

Rauné received the scale with both roots like polite little hands.

"What're you going to use that for?"

"……!"

Wordlessly, Rauné held the scale up to its face, tried riding it like a sled, draped it over itself like a blanket—going through one motion after another without pause.

It looked like it was searching for the right use for the scale.

"…"

I'd somehow drifted into just sitting there watching, when at some point the little thing bumped into something while moving around.

The potions Evangelline had left behind.

"Ah."

That snapped me back to attention.

When I checked the time, I realized with some surprise that I'd been watching Rauné play for nearly ten minutes, and I picked up the potion bottles.

"What on earth am I supposed to do with these…"

It was so awkward a sigh escaped me on its own.

I couldn't just throw them out or destroy them either—Evangelline's words about how much effort had gone into making them kept ringing in my ear.

There were four kinds of potions in total.

First, several of the green ones she'd called the neutralizer.

The others were labeled [before], [after], and [change] in English.

Probably, in order, they made you younger, made you older, or changed your sex—just like she'd said.

Flipping the labels over, I saw notes saying the changes were about ten years' worth, that sex changes sometimes altered other aspects of appearance but were purely cosmetic with no side effects whatsoever, so no need to worry.

The descriptions felt suspiciously convenient, and I was just deciding to tuck them away in the shadow for now when—

"…?! …!!!"

Rauné, which had been happily playing, suddenly scrambled up and ran in front of me.

Then it turned, faced the door, and held up the scale like a soldier raising a shield.

"…"

I instinctively slipped a hand into the shadow, and a moment later, someone threw open the door without warning.

Hat, hoodie, black mask.

A solid build.

And, for an instant, an aura so massive and so deeply tied to nature that it caught me off guard.

'…Who is this?'

The feel of it was utterly unfamiliar, yet the mana also felt like something I'd brushed against before.

Just then, Minerva surfaced from the shadow as though stepping in to guard me.

"…"

Without a word, she wrapped her arms around me from behind, as if trying to enfold me, and leaned her body lightly against mine.

I glanced sideways: she was watching the man who'd just opened the door in complete silence.

I'd made it absolutely clear to her that whenever people other than those in the know were nearby, she wasn't to appear without my permission, except in genuinely unavoidable circumstances.

…Which meant either this was that unavoidable circumstance, or the person standing there wasn't human.

So now I needed to figure out why he'd come for me and what he was after.

I was telling myself to play this carefully, and was just starting to study him slowly when—

"…May I come in?"

He suddenly spoke.

His voice was like the quiet crackle of a wood fire, sparks popping into the air.

He was looking straight at Rauné, not me.

"This is the World Tree's land, but at least this room—however briefly—seems to be your territory. I bear no ill intent, so I'd rather not set foot inside without permission from its owner."

At his polite request, Rauné glanced at me.

When I nodded, the little thing nodded toward the man in turn.

"My thanks for the invitation, kin who bears tree and mud and earth and moss and forest and weed and the breath of the Seven Calamities."

Then he turned his eyes on me and began removing the hat and mask covering his face.

What emerged matched his weighty voice—he looked to be somewhere in his mid-thirties.

But I could tell at a glance that he wasn't human.

That much was obvious—because human eyes don't burn like fire.

"I've come at Belluna's request. You're Yu Ji-hyeok, yes?"

I slid the sword hilt I'd half-drawn back into the shadow and nodded.

It looked like the hunch I'd been half-certain of was right.

"She asked me to lend you a hand. Payment's already settled with her up front, and if it falls short I'll bill her, so don't worry about it."

"Forgive me for asking, but may I have your name?"

"No forgiveness needed. My name is ……."

I couldn't make out the name he gave me at all.

I swear, it was a language I'd never heard before—a name that probably couldn't be expressed in any human language system.

He seemed to pick up on that and gave a small nod.

"Ah, my apologies. I'd forgotten human and our languages aren't the same. Hmm… how best to put this…"

After thinking it over for a moment, he spoke.

"There's one name that's at least known among humans. I'll use that instead. Call me whatever's easiest."

The man—whose aura burned like an open flame and felt every bit Belluna's equal—told me another name.

A name passed down as legend among craftsmen.

"The Smith of Yado. I was once called by that name."

'It seems my fears were misplaced.'

Minerva swished her tail gently, thinking quietly to herself.

She'd noticed long ago that Yu Ji-hyeok gave off a strange scent—one that both lured and excited spirits.

Belluna's aura, as a high-ranking wind spirit, acted like insect repellent and kept the lower spirits at bay; without her, the place would've been swarming with spirits of every kind by now.

If he'd been an ordinary powerless person, he might've been dragged off to the spirit world without ever knowing it.

'No…'

Minerva lowered her gaze slightly and looked at the mandrake clinging to his side.

She could sense Sbeungali's presence in it, but it was, strictly speaking, a spirit too.

The aura and scent of the mandrake he affectionately called Rauné were rolling off of Yu Ji-hyeok in waves, and Minerva had no trouble reading the message they carried: threat, and warning.

Put simply, the little thing was declaring that this human was under its protection, and anyone who so much as touched a hair on his head would be in for a fight to the death.

In any case, he was a man who drew the attention of spirits in more ways than one.

And the man who'd just shown up now was strong enough that even Minerva remembered him—a high-ranking spirit who'd once been worshipped as a god.

She'd manifested in a hurry, worried he might mean Yu Ji-hyeok harm, but fortunately her suspicion seemed to be off the mark.

In fact, he'd recognized her and even given her a slight bow in greeting.

He showed no sign of hostility, but somehow she still didn't like him.

So she just glared at him in silence and tightened her arms around Yu Ji-hyeok a little more.

She'd just pulled him closer—like a parent shielding a child—when he let out a strange little groan and glanced back at her.

"Minerva, sorry, but could you back off a bit?"

"……?"

"It's a little awkward to say, but… it's kind of a problem for me."

"I don't mind."

"…I do."

Minerva reluctantly released her arms and stepped back.

"…!"

But then a good idea struck her, and she pretended to be hurt, murmuring in a glum voice, "Cold as midwinter frost, my dear. ……Or perhaps I was nothing more than a hindrance to you. Even if a cliff yawned at your back, you wouldn't take the hand I offered."

"What? No, Minerva. Don't say things like that. That's not what I—"

Flustered, Yu Ji-hyeok instinctively grabbed Minerva's hand as it drifted away.

Minerva, with great effort, kept her expression in check and managed to keep up the act of being hurt.

That sort of thing was easy for her.

It wasn't until a heartfelt apology came out of his mouth and he'd sworn to unconditionally grant her one favor later on that Minerva let the corners of her eyes and her drooping tail—shaped like the very picture of sorrow—return to normal.

"…"

Her pupils were fixed on the potions sitting on the table.

A small glint flickered in her eyes.

It was the look of a predator with prey she couldn't take her eyes off of in front of her.

"An interesting ability. Absorbs every kind of power and makes it your own, hmm… I think I see now why you went to such lengths over the disciples."

Landschi muttered the words as he kicked the body of a man who was, for all intents and purposes, dead.

Both of the old man's legs had been crushed; his body was as stiff as a piece of lumber and rolled like one until it thudded into a corner.

Isaac McDowell.

He'd been the leader of Big Watch, but what mattered most to Landschi was that he was a brilliant alchemist.

After taking only the bare minimum of measures to keep the old man, struggling to draw breath, from dying, Landschi sank into a plush sofa and murmured quietly, "So that's two of them now."

…The medium he'd spent centuries weaving from collected dragon hearts was too unstable to use.

That was why he'd been after a crystal to stabilize it—and thanks to those idiots, the whole thing had been ruined.

Landschi spat a glob of acid-laced saliva with perfect aim onto Isaac McDowell's face.

The sound of flesh sizzling filled the room. Landschi watched the old man writhing in pain with bored indifference, then blinked slowly.

Gracius had been useless from the start since he didn't meet the conditions, but Natalia Milited was a different story.

A little "processing," and she would have more than qualified—just as he did.

But she couldn't bend her useless pride and stubbornness, and ended up captured by the very daughter she'd looked down on and despised. The sight was so pathetic he could only shake his head.

"Hmm…"

He was well aware of how dangerous the Ten Powerhouses were.

The pieces he'd already arranged weren't even close to enough, and the only one he could really trust was himself, so he'd have to be careful.

He decided his first move had to be shaking up the Ten Powerhouses and snatching Natalia back, and he quietly pulled out his phone.

"It's me."

The person on the other end muttered in an awkward, troubled voice.

To Choi Jun-hyeong—Six Stars member and, in effect, his pawn—Landschi spoke quietly.

"There's a traitor on your side."

"And probably a rat too."

Landschi muttered the words with absolute certainty and let out a heavy breath.

"I'll need to come over."

He blinked once and pulled something from his coat.

A shard of porcelain with a picture etched into it like a mural.

Carved into it was his lord, Milited, along with the figures of the Saint and the Saintess.

He traced the picture carefully with one finger and murmured, "…I'm not going to let centuries of preparation be ruined now over a single human."

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