The World of this Fantasy Novel is in Crisis

When Satin feigned ignorance and asked, the old man narrowed his eyes. Satin quietly lowered his gaze.

The old man murmured to himself.

“Not a single memory at all…”

It sounded like a monologue, so Satin didn’t respond and simply watched for his reaction.

‘Is he buying it?’

It was a lie meant to be believed, but wasn’t it a little too easy?

Though Satin found it suspicious, he kept silent. He couldn’t exactly say, “Why do you believe that I have amnesia?” when he was the one who claimed it in the first place.

“Come out for now.”

The old man turned around and started walking. Satin hurried to follow him.

Next to the reflection room where Satin had been confined were two more doors. Judging by the spacing, they seemed to be rooms of the same type.

‘The fact that there are multiple reflection rooms means…’

It meant they could hold multiple people at once. In other words, the number of people here wasn’t small.

At the end of the short hallway was a staircase. Once they climbed the dim stairs, a new corridor came into view. As he took in the sight, Satin silently marveled.

Framed paintings on the wall, a console table with teardrop-shaped lamps—it looked just like the kind of manor you’d see in a foreign period drama. He’d seen a few historical dramas before, and this gave off exactly that kind of vibe.

‘It would’ve looked even more authentic if there were carpets.’

As they walked a little farther down the hallway, the sound of children’s voices echoed. A group of kids, probably around twelve years old, came running from somewhere. Satin stepped aside just in time to avoid bumping into them, and the old man scolded them in a light tone.

“No running noisily in the halls.”

“Yes, Teacher!”

The children chirped back like chattering birds and dashed outside. Through the door that briefly opened and closed, a glimpse of lush forest and bright sunlight flashed by and disappeared.

Satin arrived at a fitting conclusion.

‘This is a school.’

The building was a straight-line structure—you could see from one end to the other. That meant it wasn’t very big. Of course, that might change depending on how many floors it had. Just then, he spotted a staircase leading to the second floor on the opposite side of the entrance the children had exited.

And judging by the direction the sunlight was coming from, the building likely faced south. The corridors extended east and west.

“What are you doing? Let’s go up.”

The old man spoke after noticing Satin had zoned out while studying the layout. He went up the stairs first. Satin quickly followed.

Sure enough, the building wasn’t very large. It only had two floors.

Satin trailed the old man into the west corridor on the second floor. It had a central hallway layout, with rooms facing each other across the corridor.

‘How many doors are there…’

Two on each wall, so four in total. Glancing across the hall, he saw the opposite side had three doors on each wall—six in total. That meant, at a glance, there were ten rooms just on the second floor.

There were probably fewer rooms on the first floor. Unless there were other buildings, the first floor would likely house things like the cafeteria, kitchen, and bathrooms.

‘This is a really small school.’

When he first woke up in that prison-like room, he feared he might be about to face a long ordeal filled with trials and hardships. But that worry was starting to fade.

The old man passed by two facing doors and headed deeper inside. He then opened the southern door. Satin glanced briefly at the door opposite it, then followed the old man in.

‘An office? Teacher’s room?’

Unlike the dark hallway with no windows, the office was bathed in bright light. Through the window, he could see the dense forest outside.

A small school in the middle of a forest. It sounded almost idyllic.

Following the old man’s gesture, Satin sat on the sofa in front of a tea table. It was a surprisingly nice chair. Perhaps he hadn’t realized how tense he’d been—his lower back ached as he leaned into the backrest.

The old man didn’t sit across from him right away. He busied himself with something—Satin snuck a glance and saw him preparing tea. Taking the opportunity, Satin looked around the room.

It was a cozy space. Clearly arranged with care and effort. The sofa he sat on was likely used for student counseling. By the window was a large work desk. The position faced away from the window, so it was heavily backlit.

“Do you really not remember anything?”

The old man asked as he placed a teacup in front of Satin. It was empty. He still seemed to be prepping the tea, as he continued clinking around with the teapot and tea leaves near the cabinet.

“Yes…”

“How was it at first?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you know right after waking up?”

“After I woke up, I was trying to figure out where I was, and that’s when I realized it. I didn’t know where I was, but as I kept thinking about why I was here…”

That wasn’t a lie. Satin had truly thought those things the moment he opened his eyes.

“Hm…”

The old man let out a low hum and sat down across from him. He muttered something too quiet to make out. Then, the area around the hand holding the teapot began to shimmer. Satin asked without thinking,

“What’s that?”

“Black tea, child. You’ve probably had it before, though it seems you don’t remember.”

“No, not the tea—the sparkling part.”

In games, sometimes random spots on the ground glimmer. Investigating those usually leads to clues needed for progression. Depending on the genre, it might just yield junk items.

But unlike games, in real life, things don’t shine just because something’s hidden beneath them. Objects have no intention of revealing themselves.

And yet, the teapot in the old man’s hand was glowing. It wasn’t a trick of the material. Faint particles of light were slowly drifting from the old man’s hand to the teapot.

“Sparkling?”

“It’s beautiful. Like magic.”

The old man set the teapot down and muttered again under his breath. Satin’s eyes naturally followed his hand. The light particles slowly began to swirl, forming a gentle spiral that reached all the way to the ceiling.

As Satin gazed upward, the old man murmured, “So it’s true,” and lowered his hand. The swirling light vanished at that very moment.

“You really can see mana.”

“Mana?”

It wasn’t that Satin didn’t know what it meant—he was just repeating it. Before ending up in this body, he’d read tons of webnovels thanks to his older sister. Words like mana and magical energy, which had no use in real life, were practically common knowledge to him.

But the old man, convinced Satin had lost his memory, misunderstood his response as ignorance.

“Mana is the power that makes up magic. This is mana…”

Light once again bloomed from the old man’s hand. Satin watched in pure awe.

‘Mana is amazing.’

The old man continued,

“And this is magic.”

A flame flickered to life within the light. It formed the shape of a small wall. Satin was amazed once again.

‘Magic is amazing, too.’

When the old man withdrew his hand, the flame vanished, and the glowing light slowly faded as well. As Satin stared, the old man muttered with narrowed eyes,

“Mana is not something that should be visible to the human eye… I can’t imagine why you can see it.”

“…Am I not supposed to?”

“It’s not that you shouldn’t—it’s that you can’t. Even I, who wields magic, cannot see it.”

The old man reached out. His hand touched Satin’s face, slid down to his neck, rested on his shoulder, and then gently ran down his arm. Satin didn’t know what he was doing, so he just rolled his eyes in silence.

“What could’ve changed…”

Murmuring to himself, the old man finally pulled his hand back and picked up the teapot. He tilted it over Satin’s teacup, and a stream of red tea poured out. The water had steeped while they talked, warmed by magic.

“Could this be related to your memory loss?”

“Maybe…”

Satin had no way of knowing, so he didn’t have much else to say.

The old man sipped his tea and kept touching Satin’s shoulder over and over again, each time muttering, “How strange.” Meanwhile, Satin had his own thoughts.

‘If he’s a magician, then he’s not just some frail old man.’

The distinction between those who were and weren’t vulnerable could be an important one.

***

Satin wasn’t allowed to leave until he’d finished his tea. A child came in saying he had a question and needed help. The old man told the boy to guide Satin to his room.

“Did you really forget everything?”

Satin didn’t know the child, but the kid clearly knew who he was. He kept sneaking glances, like he didn’t believe the whole amnesia story.

“It’s true.”

Speaking in the gentlest tone he could manage, Satin studied the boy.

His name was Tim—the old man had called him that earlier. A boy, though his exact age was still unclear. Roughly twelve years old, judging by his size. He didn’t even reach Satin’s shoulder.

A real adult should treat children kindly. When Satin gave him a warm smile, Tim asked with concern,

“How did that happen to you?”

“Well, not remembering that too is kind of the whole point of amnesia, isn’t it…”

Satin muttered like a foreign politician trying to dodge a question, and the boy quickly nodded in agreement.

“That makes sense. That must be really inconvenient.”

His expression was as honest as only a child’s could be. Under Tim’s worried gaze, Satin gave a sheepish smile. Truthfully, it hadn’t felt all that inconvenient so far. It was more like going through a game’s tutorial.

“So, what is this place exactly?”

“This is a school.”

That much had been within Satin’s expectations. Tim continued,

“It’s not a real school, though. It’s a place that takes in kids like us who don’t have anywhere else to go and teaches us stuff. Teacher is a really good person.”

So basically, it functioned like a private orphanage that also provided basic education.

When Satin nodded in understanding, Tim let out a giggle.

“When I first came here, you were the one who taught me. But now I’m the one showing you around—it’s kinda weird.”

“Yeah? When did you get here?”

“Me? It’s been… about five months.”

He rolled his eyes around, trying to count the days before answering. That meant Satin must’ve arrived sometime before that. Hoping Tim might know more, Satin casually followed up with another question.

“Do you know when I got here?”

“Nope.”

“I see.”

That was a bit disappointing. Satin felt a twinge of letdown. But Tim wasn’t done talking.

“I did hear you’ve been here the longest. You’re also the oldest.”

“How old am I?”

“Eighteen.”

Just as Satin had guessed back in the basement. He had assumed he was somewhere between his late teens and early twenties, and eighteen fell right into that range. Two years younger than his original age.

‘Still, I mustn’t forget—I’m an adult.’

Just because the body was younger didn’t mean the mind could follow suit.