The World of this Fantasy Novel is in Crisis

The conversation paused for a moment.

While Cain was changing clothes, Satin kept his eyes on the ceiling, pretending to be distracted. Satin didn’t think it was a big deal for guys to see each other’s bodies, but Cain clearly didn’t feel the same. He’d looked without thinking a few times before and got snapped at for it.

Cain returned to the bed in his pajamas. Up until now, the two had been sitting on their respective beds talking. Since the room wasn’t very big, it was easy to talk even from across the space.

“Cain, I was thinking during dinner earlier.”

“What.”

“What if we used Rufus? We could wait until he goes outside.”

This school was nestled deep in the woods. Without magic to conjure food and necessities, they had to travel to a village or city from time to time.

But ever since Satin had arrived, no outsider had ever come by. That meant the intervals between visits were quite long. In that case, they’d likely bring back a significant amount of supplies all at once.

Surely, they wouldn’t send the children to do such a large-scale purchase. It was probably one of the teachers or Rufus who went out themselves. Satin figured it was unlikely that both adults would leave the kids behind and go out together.

Cain shook his head before Satin could even get into a full explanation.

“The fuzzball never leaves. I’ve never once seen him go out.”

Satin’s eyes widened.

If there was zero contact with the outside, then how did this place even operate?

“Then where do they get ingredients from? There’s not even a garden here.”

“They have contracted merchants who deliver stuff regularly.”

“Ah, so people do come. Then how about asking them for help?”

“Doubt it. Those guys are just here to do a job and get paid. They couldn’t care less about a bunch of orphan brats.”

Cain didn’t seem to like the merchants, either—not just the teachers. He wasn’t warm to the other kids, either.

‘Has he ever actually liked anyone in his life?’

Satin wasn’t exactly overflowing with love for humanity himself, but he did like his older sister. She was probably the only genuinely good person he’d ever met. He doubted he’d ever meet anyone like her again.

Still, Satin understood what it meant to care about someone. The only reason he could even pretend to be kind in front of the other kids was thanks to her.

Did Cain not have even one person like that? He’d been born with the destiny to save the world from villains, demon kings, and dark gods—and yet, here he was.

‘Maybe the right moment just hasn’t come yet?’

As he stared at him in silence, a curt voice cut through.

“What. You think I’m wrong?”

Satin brushed aside his earlier curiosity and answered nonchalantly.

“No, I was just thinking. About how to use those people without them even realizing it.”

***

While Satin and Cain quietly plotted, Laigeis sat in the lab, reading through records of past experiments. That naturally stirred up old memories—ones he hadn’t visited in a very long time.

Laigeis had been born in a city far, far from Cloverland. He’d moved around constantly as a child, so he didn’t feel much attachment to any one place he could call a hometown. The city etched most clearly in his memory was the one where his master had died.

His master, of course, had been a wizard—one who died quite young. Laigeis had been in his twenties back then, so it had been more than forty years ago. His master must’ve been in his early fifties. Considering most mages lived comfortably and died of old age, that was unusual.

The identity of whoever killed his master remained unclear. A group had attacked all at once, and there was no way to tell who’d actually struck the fatal blow. And so, in Laigeis’s memory, it was simply “the temple” that had killed his master.

‘It was such a strange thing.’

They had done what they could because they could. They had attempted what seemed possible. So why was that considered a sin? He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

‘Morals, rules… what’s so damn important about them?’

Laigeis had survived by sheer luck. When the temple’s knights raided the lab, he’d just so happened to be elsewhere on an errand his master had sent him on. By the time he returned, his master was already bound in chains.

Laigeis didn’t step forward as a loyal disciple or anything. He ran.

Not long after, he heard word that the black mage had been executed.

Laigeis inherited his master’s research after that. He wished he could have salvaged all of his mentor’s records, but the rigid bastards from the temple had burned the entire lab to the ground. Maybe they wanted to make a public example of what became of a black mage.

‘Close-minded fools.’

He scavenged the ruins by night and managed to recover a few documents. Luckily, the hidden compartment beneath the floor had survived the fire.

Since then, Laigeis had wandered from city to city, continuing the research. Time passed, and here he was now.

To avoid dying the same death as his master, Laigeis had created layer after layer of protective measures.

Publicly, he branded himself a philanthropist, and privately, he prepared a secret escape route to leave this place at any time. Thankfully, the mansion had an old waterway system, so creating the hidden passage hadn’t been difficult.

Thanks to that, he thought he could finally focus on his research with peace of mind.

‘But what the hell happened?’

When working with formulas, it wasn’t uncommon to get completely unexpected results. If those results turned out to be useful, they became new spells. Even if they weren’t usable, they still served as data. Either way, it was better than producing nothing at all.

The magic Laigeis had used on Satin had nothing to do with memory. But the human mind was incredibly complex, and memory loss could easily arise as a side effect when tampering with the psyche.

Seeing mana, however—that was definitely an unintended result. It had nothing to do with the magic Laigeis had intended to discover, but it was too valuable to ignore.

‘With some adjustments, I could use it again.’

It wasn’t just useful—it was exceptional. If he could be sure it was safe, Laigeis would’ve wanted to use it on himself.

‘Seeing mana… how incredible would that be?’

If one could see mana, the world would look entirely different. If it allowed the detection of divine magic too, then there’d be no need to fear sudden raids from the temple bastards. It would be a blessing—for a researcher, a true blessing.

‘The problem is the success rate.’

It had worked on Satin. It had failed on Tim.

He’d used the same formula, but Tim hadn’t produced the same result. Instead of losing his memory, he lost his reason. And he didn’t seem to gain the ability to see mana either. He behaved like a magically reanimated corpse.

Why had there been such a stark difference?

The simplest explanation was that Satin and Tim didn’t share the same foundational conditions. For starters, they differed in age, in physique, and—

‘—in aptitude.’

Satin had the makings of a mage. Tim didn’t.

Then would the result be the same if he tested it on another child who did have the aptitude?

“Star. Wave. Blue. ○○, eighteen. One. Desert. Dream. ×××. Faintness. Yesterday. Prayer. ○.”

Laigeis recited the same formula he’d used on Satin, sinking into thought.

***

Rufus’s forearms bulged with veins as he scrubbed the large cauldron clean.

Satin instinctively frowned at the sight.

‘Is that kind of thing just… innate?’

ㅇㅇ hadn’t had a particularly impressive build, and neither did Satin. His height was decent, sure, but his arms and legs were long and skinny like twigs.

‘Well, I am still growing, so we’ll see.’

It’s not that he wanted muscles like Rufus’s. He just didn’t want to look weak—just strong enough not to be pushed around, but not threatening either. That sweet spot was ideal.

“You got something to say?”

Rufus glanced over as he set the cauldron down.

Apparently, having someone suddenly show up and sit around was bothering him. Satin had assumed his silence meant he didn’t mind, but clearly not.

Satin scratched his head and asked,

“How did you get to know the teacher?”

“The old man? There’s not much to say. I just got hired.”

“So you didn’t know him before he started this school?”

“That’s right.”

“What were you doing back then?”

“Me?”

“Who else is here?”

Satin grinned lazily, and Rufus let out a short chuckle. His shoulder must’ve been sore from all the scrubbing—he rolled it around a bit as he replied.

“There’s this place called Greenfield, west of Cloverland. A small town—calling it a city is a stretch, really.”

“You’re from there?”

“Couldn’t find work there. Came to Cloverland looking for a job, and the old man hired me.”

“I see.”

Satin nodded, and this time Rufus was the one to ask,

“What’s with the sudden questions?”

“No reason.”

He gave a clipped answer, and Rufus narrowed his eyes slightly with suspicion. Satin avoided his gaze and added,

“I thought maybe you’d know something about the teacher.”

No point pretending he had no agenda. He did.

He just had to make sure Rufus misunderstood what that agenda actually was.

“I don’t know as much as the others, right? At least not right now.”

“And?”

“It just… feels like I’m at a disadvantage. Like I should be doing something to put myself in a better position.”

“You trying to compete with a bunch of kids or something?”

Rufus let out a light laugh and grabbed another cauldron. Satin waited quietly, listening to the harsh sound of scrubbing.

Soon, the sound stopped.

“You anxious?”

“I don’t know. What kind of person was I before? Was I always this worried about everything?”

“Seemed pretty normal, as far as I remember.”

Rufus replied half-heartedly and started scrubbing again, but Satin knew he was listening closely. Whenever he paused his hands, he looked over at Satin.

“You were kind of cunning, though.”

“Me?”

“Didn’t mean it in a bad way. You were good with the other kids, and you were real good at staying on the old man’s good side.”

“Now I’m just half a person.”

“You’ll get better. The old man’ll understand. You two got along real well, after all.”