The World of this Fantasy Novel is in Crisis

Over the past few days, Satin had suspected that Cain was hiding something, but it hadn’t been easy to press him about it. The mere mention of “kitten” had clearly rubbed him the wrong way—he would scowl every time their eyes met.

“A caracal definitely suits him better.”

Satin quickly abandoned the pointless thought. Whether Cain resembled a housecat, a caracal, or a lynx wasn’t the issue right now.

“What is he hiding?”

Satin had good reason to be suspicious. Every night, Cain would go to bed far too late.

To be precise, Cain would lie down, but he wouldn’t actually sleep. It wasn’t because he wasn’t sleepy—he’d be rubbing his eyes with fatigue, yet still on high alert.

“What’s he waiting for?”

Satin, dragged into Cain’s wakefulness, had ended up staying up late too, trying to observe him. And every time he finally fell asleep, it was out of sheer exhaustion. The lack of results made the fatigue feel all the more unfair.

But tonight, oddly enough, Cain had knocked out first.

“Huh? You’re asleep?”

It was too dark to see Cain’s face clearly, but the steady rhythm of his breathing gave it away.

Before he had lived with his older sister, ㅇㅇ had lived alone with his father. He’d tried to fake sleep to avoid his father more times than he could count—and had been caught just as many. By now, he had mastered the art of mimicking someone who was truly asleep.

Cain was definitely asleep right now. Whatever he had been waiting for hadn’t happened yet—there was still no sign of anything unusual outside.

Satin was just about to close his eyes to sleep when he heard a creak. The sound of a door opening.

“The room in front?”

He remembered the sound—it wasn’t the first time he’d heard it. Of the six bedrooms along this hallway, there were two in particular with noticeably loud doors. One was the room across the hall; the other was the room next to the stairs. Probably due to stiff hinges.

If it had been the room next to the stairs, the sound wouldn’t have carried all the way here. So Satin guessed it had come from the room in front and carefully approached the door. Maybe the very thing Cain had been waiting for was finally happening.

“No harm in finding out before he does.”

His room’s hinges were well-oiled, so there was no sound as he opened the door. Satin peered out through the crack.

“Who’s that?”

A child holding a lamp was walking up ahead. The light flickered and swayed, making it hard to tell who it was. Since it was someone from the room across the hall, it had to be either Tim or Robin.

Satin stepped out with extreme caution. He didn’t have exceptional night vision, but ㅇㅇ was used to walking in the dark. He moved without bumping into anything and quietly followed the child.

The kid didn’t head for the other rooms or the stairs. Instead, they walked straight down the hallway.

“That way leads to the teacher’s lab.”

The teacher’s lab, library, office, and bedroom were all on that end of the hall. Just like this end housed the children’s rooms, the other belonged entirely to the teacher.

What could that kid possibly want in the teacher’s quarters at this hour?

The child stopped in front of the lab. When they turned toward the door, Satin finally recognized him.

“It’s Tim.”

Satin recalled the first time he’d met Tim. The boy had come looking for the teacher with some question out of curiosity—but afterward, it became clear that Tim wasn’t exactly studious. He preferred playing outside with the other kids.

Could it be that his initial visit had a different motive altogether? It might seem like a stretch, but it wasn’t unheard of. Satin thought of the middle school boys who used to loiter around the faculty room just to catch a glimpse of a pretty student teacher. The idea didn’t seem completely off-base.

“Though the meaning’s different, of course.”

Young kids tend to crave exclusive attention from the adults around them. ㅇㅇ had been the same way once. Kids like that are willing to follow even the most absurd instructions without protest. Maybe Tim had come to the teacher in secret for that very reason.

Tim knocked on the door ever so cautiously, and it opened soon after.

“You came.”

There was no “Why are you here?”—it seemed the two had already arranged to meet at this hour.

The teacher let Tim inside and closed the door.

“What are they doing in there?”

Satin hesitated. Should he go back to his room and sleep, or wait until Tim came back out?

Would Tim tell me what happened last night if I asked him tomorrow morning? There was no guarantee. He wasn’t obligated to share anything. He could just feign ignorance and claim he didn’t know what I was talking about. If they’d arranged to meet at this hour, it was probably because they didn’t want the other kids to know.

Curiosity, huh… Satin clicked his tongue quietly and crept forward.

He pressed his ear tightly against the lab door that Tim had entered. He could hear murmuring from inside, but couldn’t make out the words clearly. Only a few scattered phrases managed to reach him.

“Sounds like they’re talking about magic…”

Magic this, mana that—Satin—

“Wait… did they just say my name?”

He pressed even closer to the door, but it didn’t make the voices any clearer.

A few days ago, Cain had overheard Satin’s entire conversation with Rogers, even from inside the archives. Why was this room so much more soundproof?

“Maybe they talk about things that really shouldn’t get out?”

Satin let out a small scoff. Given that he was currently eavesdropping, it felt like a reasonable guess.

Not long after, the voices stopped. Then light began to leak out through the cracks in the door, floor, and walls. It was a strange kind of light—it didn’t illuminate the surroundings, but glowed in and of itself.

“…Mana.”

He didn’t know what spell it was, but someone inside was using magic.

Satin recalled the small fire spell the teacher had once shown him. The glow back then had been faint, barely visible. But now, this was different—intensely bright, flooding the closed space and seeping outside.

What kind of spell is that?

Satin stepped back from the light. He moved quickly—too quickly—and ended up deeper into the hallway. A mistake. There’d be nowhere to hide if the teacher came out.

Is it safe to touch the mana? If I step on it, will they notice?

While Satin worried, the light kept pouring out. The moments felt unnervingly long.

“Damn it!”

It was quiet, but clear. The teacher’s voice—sharp with frustration. Satin flinched and pressed himself tight against the wall.

The glow of mana gradually faded. Then—slam—the door burst open. Everything had happened too fast for Satin to react, let alone hide.

What the hell…

At first glance, it looked like the teacher was carrying a large sack over his shoulder. But on closer look, it wasn’t a sack—it was a person. Tim, who had walked into the lab on his own just minutes ago, now hung limp over the teacher’s shoulder, completely unconscious.

There didn’t seem to be a spell for enhancing strength, because the teacher was clearly struggling under the weight as he staggered toward the stairs. Whether it was good luck or bad luck, he never looked in Satin’s direction.

Guess I got lucky.

Earlier, Satin had thought he’d made a mistake by not hiding farther away. But now, that very misstep had saved him. If he had moved the other way, he’d have been caught for sure.

The teacher, clearly flustered, didn’t even glance back as he hurried down the stairs, practically stumbling. Satin followed.

The teacher turned into the west corridor on the first floor—the side with classrooms, sanitation facilities, and the basement.

He’s going to the basement?

Surely, he wouldn’t bring a collapsed child to a classroom at this hour.

As expected, the teacher passed the classrooms quickly and headed down the stairway to the basement. There was only one entrance to the underground level, meaning Satin couldn’t follow beyond this point.

Instead, he hid inside the bathhouse nearby. Because of the humidity, the door was always left open when it wasn’t in use.

Satin concealed himself behind the door, staying out of sight from the corridor. He waited.

How much time had passed?

Quiet footsteps echoed down the hall. A silhouette passed quickly in front of the bathhouse. Satin peeked out.

…Where’s Tim?

He only caught a glimpse, but he was certain of one thing—the teacher wasn’t carrying anything anymore. Tim was gone. The teacher disappeared down the hallway in an instant.

Satin hesitated for a moment before leaving the bathhouse. Instead of following the teacher, he turned toward the basement.

Did he lock him up?

When Satin had once been confined in the penitence room, the other kids had speculated he’d been punished for misbehaving. If that were true, what had Tim done wrong? And why had he passed out?

I can just ask him later.

As he descended into the basement, a strange scent hit his nose. It wasn’t the usual musty smell of mold. It was acrid—burning.

Smells like something’s been scorched…

The penitence rooms had small windows, but they weren’t enough to ventilate the smoke quickly.

Satin grimaced and kept going. Finally, he reached the bottom of the stairs and began feeling along the wall, trying to guess which room Tim might be in.

There were three rooms in total, all on the same side.

He felt for the handle of the first door and whispered,

“Tim?”

No answer. The room was so tiny that a quick glance was enough to see it was empty.

He moved to the second door. Also empty.

Then, to the last one—the innermost room. As he opened the door, Satin coughed without meaning to. Smoke still lingered in the air. It was the same room he had once been locked in, but the smell this time was different.

“Something’s… here…”

Satin pushed through the smoke, feeling around the cramped room. He called out Tim’s name again. No response. The room was empty.

“What the hell…”

He ran his hands along the walls once more. Just then, the moon, previously hidden behind the clouds, peeked out—its pale light filtering faintly through the small window. Even in the dim glow, it was clear. No one was here.

“What’s going on?”

He’d seen it with his own eyes—Tim, slung over the teacher’s shoulder, being carried down to the basement. And yet now, there was no sign of him.

As Satin absentmindedly let his gaze drop, something on the floor caught his eye. It was a stain—one he would’ve missed if not for the light. A dark smear, like crushed charcoal or soot.

“Was that here last time too…?”

Satin knelt down and brushed the area with his fingers. His fingertips caught on something—a subtle depression, unnaturally shaped. A groove.

It felt like… a handle.

“A basement under the basement?”