The World of this Fantasy Novel is in Crisis

“What’s wrong?”

Cain studied Satin’s face and asked. Satin shook his head.

“It’s nothing. I just feel off. Keep talking.”

Cain frowned slightly, but soon continued.

“I didn’t know what he looked like, but I’d heard of him. People said he was a philanthropist, but I was sure he had some hidden agenda.”

“Why?”

Cain shrugged and let out a laugh. It was a scoff.

“There’s no such thing as pure goodwill in this world.”

“No other reason besides that?”

“Of course there is. I only found out after I got here.”

Cain paused briefly.

“Did you know there was another kid who ran away before I got here?”

“I heard earlier. A girl named Maggie ran off, they said.”

But there was no way it had been a real escape. Maybe, like Tim, she had simply vanished from the world in the same way.

“Did you hear that the old man went around asking about her, trying to find her?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I never heard anything like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone in Cloverland knows that old man. He’s a wizard. A quirky wizard who gives to charity.”

“So?”

“If someone like that was out searching for a missing kid, there’s no way there wouldn’t be rumors. But I’ve never heard a single one.”

Satin understood what Cain was getting at. Cain must’ve picked up on it from his expression, because he gave a dry chuckle. Another scoff.

“What do you think the reason is that old man never searched for the missing kid? Isn’t it because… he didn’t need to?”

“…That makes sense.”

“If you’re right, then they’re all dead.”

Satin pressed a hand to his forehead. How many had died like that? How many of them had turned to pitch-black ash beneath the very floor they now stood on?

Were they all children? Innocent children. Even if they weren’t innocent, no child should be killed like that. The guilty deserve punishment, yes—but not kids. The weak are meant to be protected. That’s the rule.

Dizzy.

As that thought crossed his mind, Cain grabbed Satin’s arm. He was still a boy, not fully grown, but his grip was as strong as any adult’s.

“Hey, snap out of it.”

“Oh—sorry. I spaced out for a second…”

A heavy silence settled between them. What now? Satin had spoken up because he thought Cain was the only one who might believe him, but he hadn’t planned what came next.

He managed to cobble together a half-decent idea.

“Let’s kill the teacher.”

“…What?”

Maybe it wasn’t all that decent—Cain frowned. Satin quickly scrambled to think of another idea.

“No, I said that wrong. Let’s report it outside. Find someone who can help.”

Cain stared at him quietly, then shrugged.

“Who’s gonna believe us? To everyone else, that old man’s a kind-hearted geezer who helps kids. Plus, he’s a wizard. And us? We’re just some orphan punks messing up the streets. Who’s gonna take our word?”

“They won’t…”

“Exactly. So we need another way.”

“What are you thinking?”

Satin asked, sensing that Cain had something in mind. Cain narrowed his eyes and smiled. It was the first time Satin had seen him truly smile. It was so bright it made even the gravity of the moment fade for an instant. Yeah, he really is the protagonist. Moments like this felt unreal.

“First, we need to find out why that old man is killing kids.”

To Satin, the act of killing children itself was the problem. Why he did it didn’t matter. No reason could ever justify it.

As Satin blinked in confusion, Cain continued.

“And then we report him to the temple as a dark mage.”

“Oh.”

So that’s how this connects to the Temple Knights.

“Why that face? You don’t like my idea?”

Cain frowned, and Satin quickly shook his head.

“No, it’s just… you know I don’t have my memories.”

“So?”

“So… what exactly is a dark mage? What’s the difference between that and a regular mage? Why call them that?”

“You’ve really turned into a complete idiot, huh.”

Cain’s blunt insult stung a little, but Satin couldn’t argue. Things Cain took for granted were now foreign to him—he couldn’t complain about being called dumb.

“So explain it to me. What’s a dark mage?”

“A dark mage is a mage who breaks the rules.”

That didn’t really explain much. Satin was about to ask what the rules were, but Cain spoke first.

“The rules are what all mages must follow. Strictly speaking, they’re more like the mages’ moral code.”

“Moral code?”

“Don’t violate someone’s personality. Don’t use life as a tool. Don’t desecrate the dead.”

Cain helpfully ticked them off on his fingers as he listed the three rules. Satin paused to consider them, but honestly, they all felt kind of similar.

“So… it means you shouldn’t kill people or something like that?”

“It’s not that simple. Mages kill tons of people in wars.”

“Then what does it mean?”

“‘Don’t violate personality’ means you can’t use magic to control someone’s mind. ‘Don’t use life as a tool’ means you can’t experiment on people with magic.”

“And the last one?”

“It means don’t bring the dead back to life.”

Now it made sense. Satin nodded—then suddenly grew curious.

“You know all this really well. Do most people know that much?”

“The basics, yeah. I just learned more ‘cause I’ve read about it. Not much else to do around here.”

Satin had assumed Cain hung out in the library because he liked books, but maybe that wasn’t the whole story. Come to think of it, even in Dark Age, there was never a line that said Cain particularly liked reading.

What’s the point of all this anyway…

Satin shoved the idle thoughts out of his head. From the moment the teacher had burned a twelve-year-old to death, Satin had decided not to follow the story anymore. His sister couldn’t possibly have wanted even these dark backstories to become reality.

Besides, this was all still pre-prologue—knowing the events of Dark Age wouldn’t help him much right now anyway.

Satin returned to the conversation.

“So how are you planning to figure out what the teacher’s goal is?”

“If we get into his lab, we might learn something.”

Satin nodded. That made sense. He didn’t know how mages conducted research, but surely there’d be records. And if they could find physical evidence even more conclusive than documents, all the better.

Cain rubbed his chin and added,

“We’ll need to find a way in first.”

“We can sneak in when the teacher’s not around.”

“You think it’s that easy? It’s always locked.”

“Like through a window or something?”

“Those are sealed too.”

Satin tilted his head without thinking. He’d seen the front of the school when he went out to the yard—there weren’t any sealed spots. He clearly remembered the rows of windows flanking the main entrance.

Cain seemed to catch on to what Satin was thinking and clicked his tongue.

“They don’t open. No locks, either.”

“How’d you check?”

“Getting up to the second floor isn’t that hard.”

“Oh, right.”

Just moments ago, he’d sworn off thinking about the Dark Age setting, but here he was doing it again. In the novel, Cain had survived by picking pockets and doing petty theft before getting caught by a dark mage. Scaling low buildings wouldn’t be difficult for someone like him.

Satin paused, then said,

“There is a way to get in without drawing suspicion.”

“How?”

“I could go in myself. They already think I’m the teacher’s apprentice, remember? Even if I wasn’t for real, everyone here seems to think so.”

Cain’s eyes narrowed. Whether it was out of concern or suspicion, Satin couldn’t tell. He wasn’t yet experienced enough to read someone’s thoughts just by their expression.

“Explain in more detail.”

Detail? Satin scratched his head and started speaking slowly in response to Cain’s request.

“Everyone wants to become the teacher’s apprentice, right? Then wouldn’t it make sense for me to want the same? If I really was his apprentice before I lost my memory, it wouldn’t seem strange for me to want to reclaim that position.”

It was a long-winded explanation. Cain just rubbed his chin silently, deep in thought.

Satin now wasn’t the same person he had once been. He wasn’t like the other kids either. He couldn’t simply accept the “normal” of this world—or more specifically, the normalcy inside this school—as natural.

But what if the Satin here really had amnesia, rather than being someone else entirely?

There are endless debates about whether human nature is inherently good or evil. But the desire for a more comfortable life—surely that’s a basic instinct, beyond morality.

You wake up with no memory and see a gold bar lying in front of you. Everyone around you insists it used to be yours. Wouldn’t you want to pick it up? Shouldn’t you pick it up?

“Plus, I’ve awakened the ability to see mana. The teacher seemed especially interested in that. If I expressed a desire to become a mage…”

“That old man would definitely try to use you.”

“Exactly. And that means I’d probably get a chance to enter the lab, too.”

“That definitely sounds more feasible than sneaking in.”

“Right?”

“What if you fall back under his influence?”

“Huh?”

Satin blinked as Cain gave him a piercing, skeptical stare. Satin thought the expression resembled a wild cat inspecting a trap—but wisely kept that to himself.

“You used to be that old man’s loyal servant. So what makes you so sure you won’t become that again? Am I wrong?”

“No, that’s… a fair concern.”

Satin gave a sheepish smile. It wasn’t the first time he’d been suspected like this. No matter how righteous your words may sound, if you’re standing next to a villain, people will always see you as one too.