Chapter 90: Pendant? (1)

Chapter 90: Pendant? (1)

... Sylvia rested her head on someone’s arm in her dream, finding it warm and firm, just right as a pillow. But it wasn’t enough, so she moved closer, burying her face against his chest. Concerned she might be too forward, she felt reassured when he pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her.

Warmth filled her heart. The ground beneath her was soft, like grass, as flowers bloomed around her and butterflies and bees danced in the air. Everything was beautiful, as though the whole world were hers.

Yet, a lingering doubt caused a dull ache in her heart. He seemed to sense it, pulling her closer and whispering reassurances. Sylvia smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace in his embrace. She was no longer alone, no longer burdened by the weight of loneliness or sorrow, now that he was with her...

Sylvia’s eyes opened slowly to the sight of the ceiling in the artificial shelter she had made.

Scrub, scrub—

She touched her eyes, her fingertips coming away wet with tears.

“... Ah.”

The dream had been so blissful that it left her feeling empty. The emotions she had tried so hard to suppress surged within her, and the voice of someone refusing to let her ruin her life echoed in her mind once more.

Sylvia pressed her hands against her face, her breathing becoming erratic as panic began to overwhelm her. She shook for a moment before reaching into her pocket, pulling out a vial, and quickly swallowing the pill inside.

“Sigh...”

The overwhelming panic receded almost instantly, allowing her breathing to even out as she slowly regained her composure.

Whooosh...

She then began to break down the space she had formed with Primary Colors. As the hues slowly dissolved, the scene around her came into focus, revealing several people who had gathered nearby.

Epherene smirked and said, “Sylvia. I figured it was you.”

She stood nearby with Karixel and another woman.

Sylvia gave a slight nod and replied, “Foolish Epherene. You actually managed to pass.”

"Hmph. Of course I did. By the way, we were attacked earlier. Some strange people infiltrated the area—"

Epherene started to boast, but Sylvia remained indifferent, not even turning to look at her.

At that moment, the exam supervisor, Mimic, announced, “Alright, the 72 hours are up, and the exam is now over. Please gather around. Out of 1,013 participants, 113 have passed the first test. The remaining 900 will be assigned to different exams based on their categories.”

The examinees settled into their seats, their attention focused on the supervisor as he wrote names into the air.

"The second test is Mentor and Mentee. Consider it an interview. Select one of the listed supervisors and present yourself for evaluation."

The names of several esteemed mages appeared—Gindalf, Rogerio, Deculein, Ihelm, Crancia, and others. While Gindalf and Rogerio were particularly renowned, Sylvia’s focus had already settled on one name.

"You have 30 minutes to choose and position yourself in front of your selected supervisor's door."

The darkness in the corridor gradually receded, revealing a row of interview rooms. Each door displayed a nameplate with the name of a supervisor. Sylvia walked toward the door marked Deculein.

"Debutant Sylvia, Debutant Epherene, and several other Debutants are not permitted to be evaluated by Professor Deculein," Mimic abruptly announced.

Sylvia narrowed her eyes, and Epherene, standing behind her, frowned and asked, “What is the reason?”

“Because you are from the same university, which raises concerns about fairness.”

Sylvia hesitated before finally choosing the door marked Rogerio, a young mage who had attained the rank of Ethereal. After a moment’s pause, Epherene headed for Gindalf’s door.

"Please be aware that the higher the supervisor's rank and reputation, the more difficult the interview may be," Mimic cautioned.

Sylvia pouted as she glanced toward Deculein’s door. Two people stood before it—one was Karixel, whom she recognized, but the woman beside him was a stranger to her.

***

At the same time, only two participants, Karixel and Maiho, had chosen Deculein as their examiner. Deculein’s reputation for being difficult had apparently discouraged most of the hundred or so candidates, leaving only these two.

Karixel smiled brightly and said, “Miss Maiho, I’ll go in first.”

“Yes, please do~” Maiho replied cheerfully.

Karixel stepped into the room labeled with Deculein’s name. The room was minimalistic and neat, with Deculein seated at the far end.

“Good day, Professor Deculein. I appreciate your help earlier,” Karixel said as he closed the door behind him and approached.

He expressed his gratitude for Deculein’s earlier help, but Deculein showed little interest in formalities.

“Sit.”

“Yes, sir,” Karixel said as he took a seat. Before Deculein could speak, he added, “Professor, is this evaluation being recorded or monitored by a crystal orb?”

“What difference does it make?” Deculein replied curtly, glancing at Karixel’s report. He noted the details—age 33, three children, name Karixel.

Karixel continued with a serious tone, "It's important, Professor. Please, I need to know."

Deculein replied, “... I’m only writing a report. There are no recordings or monitoring.”

Karixel nodded, his expression firm.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Then, to Deculein’s surprise, he calmly stated, “I am a Scarletborn.”

Deculein looked up from the report, momentarily startled by the bold declaration. He tilted his head slightly, assessing the situation.

“Haha... My goal from the beginning was to speak with you in private. Though we’ve met twice before, there were too many eyes on us then, so I waited.”

“Were you aware of the test beforehand?” Deculein asked.

“Yes, Professor. To a certain degree,” Karixel admitted.

Deculein listened in silence, withholding any response.

“I’ve come to negotiate, Professor. The recent Grand Festival incident was not planned by our clan. We only wish for peace.”

Deculein remained still, the report held in his hands as he listened intently.

“That incident was planned by a religious cult known as the Altar. Our Great Elder will soon issue an official statement. If you desire, he is also prepared to engage in dialogue with the Empire—”

Deculein's face darkened without warning.

Thud—!

Leaning forward, Deculein fixed his gaze on Karixel and stated, “The Great Elder will be killed the moment he reveals himself.”

Karixel’s heart nearly stopped. He knew that Deculein’s words were not to be taken lightly. The Great Elder’s appearance would activate death triggers and sudden events, leaving no room for escape.

“I will correct myself. If he sets foot on Imperial soil or reveals himself in any way, I will personally ensure his death,” Deculein said, his voice cold and resolute.

Gindalf offered a warm smile and said, “Congratulations. You’ve successfully passed the interview.”

“... Sorry? That was all?”

“Yes. The corridor you traversed was a magical trap of my own design. It tests mental fortitude, mana control, and magical adaptability. If you made it through, that’s sufficient. There’s no need for a more complex interview or evaluation, particularly at your Solda rank.”

“Oh...”

It made sense now. For someone like Gindalf, who had reached the prestigious ranks of Ethereal or Monarch, a title like Solda was hardly impressive. To him, students of such a low rank were simply seen as charming novices.

“Let’s see... Your name is...” Gindalf began, glancing down at the documents on his desk.

Gindalf paused abruptly, his eyes widening as realization struck him. He lifted his gaze to study Epherene more intently. Startled by his sudden focus, Epherene straightened up, gripping her knees as she swallowed nervously.

“W-why do you look at me that way?”

“You are... Hmm...” Gindalf murmured, his brow furrowing in thought. “Smile for me and remove your robe.”

"W-what? M-my robe?"

“Go on.”

Epherene hesitated, puzzled by Gindalf's request. For a moment, she wondered if he could be a strange sort of kindly pervert, but she dismissed the thought. This was Gindalf, a highly respected figure. There had to be a valid reason. Reluctantly, she removed her robe.

“Now, smile.”

“But... w-why?”

“Quickly now!” Gindalf urged, his tone reminiscent of the stern, tiger-like chief from her hometown.

Epherene managed a strained smile.

"Not like that—no need to look like a monster."

"Monster? What do you mean—ah, haha!" Epherene burst out, laughing uncontrollably as Gindalf's magic tickled her sides. "Hahaha, stop it! Really, haha, stop! Hehe, haha!"

Gindalf leaned back in his chair, letting out a deep sigh as he observed her bright smile.

“W-why are you doing this? I’ll report you!” Epherene said sharply, crossing her arms defensively.

Gindalf looked at her thoughtfully and murmured, “So, you’re the child from that pendant...”

“... What pendant?”

Gindalf remembered the moment well. A long time ago, Deculein had asked him to restore a pendant that held a child’s photo. Although he had only seen the image for a fleeting moment, his memory, sharpened by years of experience as an elder mage, retained every detail.

“What is your relationship with Deculein?” Gindalf inquired, his tone turning gravely serious.

"Sorry?" Epherene replied, thoroughly confused. "What do you mean by relationship...?"

"Be honest with me. You cannot hide the truth from my eyes," Gindalf said, his gaze sharpening as the power within them stirred.

Harmony, one of the categories of magic, dealt with connections—between worlds, between humans, and between anything and everything. For Gindalf, who had mastered the category, discerning truth from lies was a simple task.

Epherene, under the weight of his intense gaze, replied cautiously, “... He’s my enemy.”

“Your enemy?”

“Yes.”

“Deculein is your enemy?”

“... That’s all I’m going to say,” Epherene muttered, clamping her mouth shut. Gindalf crossed his arms, a look of clear confusion on his face. Epherene grew irritated, fidgeting with her fingers before snapping, “Why are you asking all these questions? Is this part of the interview?”

“... It’s intriguing that you regard Deculein as your enemy.”

"Why do you find that intriguing? If you do not explain yourself, I may have to report this."

“Report? For what reason?”

"You had me remove my robe and then tickled me without permission."

“What?”

"There has to be a reason for this, one that I can understand."

Gindalf stared at her in disbelief but mumbled, "You speak of him as your enemy, yet from what I perceive, Deculein seems to value you more than you might understand."

"... Sorry? He values me?" Epherene asked, her face contorting in disbelief.

The notion that Deculein could value her was so ludicrous it was hardly worth a thought.

“Why else would he go to the trouble of asking me, personally, to restore a pendant that was so worn and damaged?” Gindalf said, recalling the event.

“Elder Gindalf.”

“Hm? Deculein, is it me you are speaking to?”

"Yes, Elder Gindalf, I have a favor to ask of you."

Gindalf was surprised when Deculein approached him directly, given the longstanding animosity between their families dating back to his father’s time.

"This Deculein, whose father was once my enemy, came to me personally with a request. He possesses every ounce of his father's pride."

Deculein respectfully requested Gindalf to restore the pendant, paid the fee, and then quietly departed.

“What do you mean? E-explain everything from the start! Please, I’m begging you!” Epherene pleaded, her fists clenched tightly.

Gindalf regarded her, recognizing that there was nothing he could gain from the situation. In his younger years, he wouldn’t have entertained a request that didn’t promise some benefit. But perhaps he really was getting old, old enough to be amused and curious about things that once held no interest for him.

“Deculein once asked me to restore a pendant. Inside it was a photo of a child—of you, as a child. And now, you’ve grown up just as you appeared in that picture.”

Deculein had also mentioned about an assistant who had taken their own life, but Gindalf decided not to mention that part.

"As I mentioned, if it hadn’t been something truly significant, Deculein would never have asked me to restore it. His father despised me far too much for that."

Epherene stood motionless, her face empty of expression as she fixed her gaze on Gindalf. For a moment, everything seemed to freeze around her.

Gindalf said with a bitter smile, “He’s quite the curious one. For someone known to be so cold and detached, it was odd to see him carrying a pendant with a child’s picture inside... And that child turned out to be his student.”

Epherene stood in stunned silence, her expression rigid except for the faint flaring of her nostrils. Gindalf’s mouth twitched as he watched her reaction.

“Ah, it seems I’m truly getting old. Finding amusement in a young person’s confusion—perhaps this is what it means to be a meddlesome old man...”

Gindalf could almost hear Adrienne’s sharp voice ringing in his ears as he thought, Yes, that’s right!

Gindalf allowed himself a broad smile.