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Chapter 87: Future of Each Individual (2)

I nodded and followed Jolang to the palace’s underground, the only route to the Darkness of the Imperial Palace—known as the Demon’s Mirror.

However...

"It’s sealed. This is troublesome," Jolang remarked with a frown.

I inspected the door, finding it encrusted with a dry, black substance, thick and tar-like.

"When did it get like this?" I asked.

"It was just a normal door until today," Jolang replied, gripping the handle and shaking it forcefully, but it wouldn’t give way. "Even the knights couldn’t manage to open it, so I had to send them all back."

I nodded and said, "Then the time has not yet come."

"Time has not yet come... But do you know what lies beyond this door, Lord Yukline?"

I already knew what exactly lay hidden beneath the palace and the details of the Darkness of the Imperial Palace quest. I had completed it back in my days as a player.

"Who’s to say?"

The Darkness of the Imperial Palace was the shadow cast by the Empress—Sophien’s own past. This underground chamber concealed the secrets of that past, and the Demon’s Mirror was the gateway to it.

The true mystery lay in the demon\'s obsession with Sophien’s past. The reason was clear—if Sophien died, this world would come to an end.

As I had mentioned before, if Sophien died, it would mean the end of everything. That was how the system was set up for the game. It was an extremely important quest, but not one that required immediate action. Since Sophien was a regressor, there were numerous chances—dozens of cycles—to explore her past.

"I haven’t entered, so how could I possibly know? We’re leaving. Inform me immediately when the door opens," I commanded.

"Yes, Lord Yukline. As you command," Jolang replied, his expression still sour as he turned away.

Yulie murmured in confusion, "It\'s strange. Why has the palace\'s underground turned out this way?"

"You don’t have to know," I said.

"Sorry?"

"Don’t even consider getting involved."

Yulie’s eyes narrowed, but the truth about the underground had to be kept from her. Sophien’s death was linked partially to the former head of Freyden—Yulie’s father.

"We’re leaving. We have a busy day ahead," I said.

"... Yes."

We left the palace together.

By the gates, Ren, the driver who had been waiting beside the car, glanced at his notebook and said, "The next schedule is in Roharlak, in Yukline County."

Something in Ren’s tone seemed unusual, but I kept my expression neutral as I climbed into the car.

"Let’s proceed."

"Yes, Master."

***

Meanwhile, Epherene, Sylvia, and Karixel boarded the Floating Island. While the island’s mysterious landscape had become somewhat familiar, they still needed to take an airship—a relatively recent invention—to reach the Training Island for the Solda promotion exam.

“Sigh...”

Epherene stepped onto the airship platform, her emotions a blend of excitement and anxiety. It was her first time seeing an airship up close, let alone boarding one.

"Shall we proceed?" Karixel asked, his presence a welcome relief.

Unlike the quiet Sylvia, Karixel’s experience as an adventurer made him both well-informed and chatty, which brought a comforting sense of ease to the group.

"Do we just board? Is there anything else we need to do?" Epherene asked.

"Certainly. Just step aboard as if you were entering your own home. I’ll go ahead," Karixel said, ascending the tall stairs to the platform.

Epherene hesitated for a moment before following. As she reached the stairs, Sylvia suddenly grabbed the hood of her robe, pulling her back.

"Oof! Why are you stopping me?"

“Foolish Epherene.”

"What is it?" Epherene asked, confused.

Sylvia wordlessly glanced down at Epherene’s shoes.

"... Oh, right," Epherene said as realization struck, letting out a small laugh. "Shoes? You must think I’m a fool, don’t you? Of course, I know I need to take them off."

Epherene stood tall, feigning confidence despite her uncertainty. It seemed reasonable to remove her shoes before boarding the airship. After all, Karixel had said to board as if entering one’s own home.

"Well, I’m going up first!" Epherene declared, ascending the stairs with an air of nobility. She removed her shoes before boarding the airship and glanced around, searching for a place to store them. "... Where’s the shoe rack?"

A passenger noticed her bare feet and smirked. Epherene glanced around in confusion, only to see that everyone else had kept their shoes on.

Sylvia, who had followed closely behind, stifled a laugh, "Pfft."

Sylvia walked past her with a self-satisfied smile, her heels tapping sharply against the floor. Epherene\'s face flushed with embarrassment.

"That... that little...!" Epherene muttered as she hastily put her shoes back on and rushed to her assigned seat.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar figure.

"... Assistant Professor Allen?"

"Oh, Epherene. I see you’ve put your shoes back on," Sylvia remarked from her seat, her voice laced with amusement.

"Oh? I knew you’d enjoy that. I did it on purpose, you know, because you’ve seemed a bit down lately," Epherene remarked, trying to maintain her pride as she took her assigned seat beside Sylvia.

— Flight 305D is now departing. Please fasten your seat belts.

As the announcement played, Epherene swiftly fastened her seatbelt.

Sylvia smirked as she watched Epherene and said, "At least you managed the seatbelt."

"Hmph. I only did that to make you laugh."

Whoooosh—

As the airship hummed and lifted off, Epherene instinctively grabbed Sylvia’s shoulder.

“Woahh!”

“What are you doing?” Sylvia said, startled, trying to shake her off.

But as the airship swayed, Epherene’s hold on her shoulder only grew firmer.

"Let go," Sylvia said, trying to push her away.

"Woooah, we’re... we’re flying. We’re actually flying. Woaaaah..."

"Let go of me, you fool. I said let go."

As Sylvia resisted, Epherene only held on tighter, her arms encircling Sylvia’s waist as she rested her forehead on Sylvia’s shoulder.

“Stop clinging to me, you fool."

"Wait... I’m going to be sick."

Sylvia sensed that something was off.

“Oh... Wh-what’s going on? Am I having an allergic reaction?"

"There’s no such thing as an airship allergy, you fool. Oh no, don’t you dare vomit. If you vomit, I swear I’ll... Oh—"

***

Epherene and Sylvia arrived at the Training Island, where the staff swiftly assigned them their accommodations. With night already fallen and darkness enveloping the surroundings, there was no opportunity to explore.

"Debutants Sylvia and Epherene, you’ve been assigned to Room 503. The exam will start in forty-eight hours, so please take this time to rest. Sign this document and place it in Goro\'s Mouth outside your door," the staff member instructed.

"Okay~" Epherene replied cheerfully as she opened the door to Room 503, surprised by the room\'s unexpected spaciousness. She had imagined something more like a college dorm, but this was far larger than she had anticipated. "... This is nicer than my house."

The room was spacious, with two beds, two desks, two refrigerators, and two bathrooms, all symmetrically arranged. A single sofa sat in the center.

Epherene approached the window and, gazing outside, remarked in awe, “Wow... A cliff right outside? I can even see the clouds.”

Rumble—!

A loud crash reverberated through the room as Sylvia created a wall, dividing the large space into two distinct sections.

“... Of course,” Epherene muttered, quickly realizing that Sylvia, still reeling from her recent rejection, likely needed some time alone.

Epherene sighed as she unpacked her things, placing the Roahawk meat in the refrigerator and slipping emergency rations, like chocolate bars, into the pockets of her robe. Afterward, she looked over the document given to her by the exam staff.

Solda Promotion Exam Confirmation

◆ Primary Exam Supervisors: Rogerio, Gindalf, Adrienne

◆ Additional Supervisors: Ropal, Mimic, Relin, Deculein, Ihelm, Crancia, and thirteen others

◆ Security Chief: Deculein

◆ The footage and reports generated during the exam are available for purchase by various Mage Towers, the Floating Island, and noble families across the continent for scouting purposes.

◆ The Floating Island bears no responsibility for any injuries or other incidents that may occur during the exam.

◆ Signature: [ ]

“... No responsibility for injuries or anything else, huh...” Epherene muttered, unease creeping in.

Knock, knock—

Just then, a knock sounded at the door.

Startled, Epherene whispered, “Who’s there...?”

“It’s Karixel. I’ve brought something for you.”

"Oh," Epherene replied as she quickly moved to open the door.

Karixel greeted her with a broad smile and said, "Miss Epherene, your room is rather unique... The two-person room I’m staying in isn’t quite like this."

"This was Sylvia’s doing."

"Ah, I see. So this must be her Primary Colors. A truly impressive talent for creation," Karixel observed, admiring the perfectly divided room, each side even having its own door.

"But what brings you here?"

"Ah, I brought this for you," Karixel said, offering her a cylindrical container. Epherene examined it curiously, and Karixel explained, "It’s called cup noodles—a popular snack in the south. Just add the seasoning and pour in boiling water, and it’s ready to eat. Be sure to share one with Sylvia as well."

"Oh, thank you. I was just starting to feel hungry."

Karixel chuckled and said, "Haha. Very well then, I’ll see you tomorrow!"

After he left, Epherene looked down at the two cup noodles in her hands. She placed one in front of Sylvia’s door and knocked. The door swung open almost immediately, and Sylvia stepped out.

"Here, I have something for you."

Sylvia ignored the cup noodles and walked right past Epherene without acknowledging her presence.

"Where are you headed?" Epherene asked.

"Goro’s Mouth."

"Oh, right."

Epherene took the document and followed Sylvia into the hallway, where they encountered Goro\'s Mouth, a large, black pair of lips. Sylvia placed her signed document into it first, and Epherene followed suit.

Munch— Munch—

The mouth made a wet, squelching sound as it processed the papers, then expelled two small orbs—one for Sylvia and one for Epherene.

"What might these be?"

"They’re personal crystal orbs," explained the mage standing next to Goro’s Mouth. "They can be used for communication, and in case of danger, they’ll send a signal to the Security Chief. They have other functions as well, so make sure not to lose them."

"Ah, thank you," Epherene said, slipping hers into her pocket.

Sylvia, still focused on her orb, was likely preoccupied with thoughts of that professor who served as the Security Chief. Epherene, her smile tinged with bitterness as she glanced at Sylvia, soon noticed a familiar figure at the end of the hallway. It wasn’t Assistant Professor Allen, but someone who bore a striking resemblance to him.

"Looks similar."

It was the same face, but certainly not Allen. What set her apart was her impressive figure, especially her chest. Even beneath the robe, the movement of her ample bosom was clear. Epherene knew that discomfort well, which was why she always wore a loose robe—not just for modesty, but to avoid the constriction that tighter clothes would bring.

"Oh, by the way, Sylvia, have you heard of instant cup noodles—"

When she turned to ask, Sylvia was already gone.

"... She’s as tough to befriend as a stray cat," Epherene sighed, trudging back to her room.

***

The morning in Yukline County unfolded with the jostling rhythm of a car ride.

— Deputy Director Primien, you understand the significance of today’s meeting, correct?

"Yes," Deputy Director Lillia Primien replied indifferently to the Director’s crystal orb.

— Be careful not to say anything that could offend the Professor. Mind your words.

"I understand."

— Professor Deculein is a prominent figure now. He’s far beyond the typical noble you’re accustomed to dealing with.

"I understand. I’m ending the call now."

— Wait, Deputy Director! If you say one wrong word, it’s not just you but the whole—

Click—

Primien ended the call. The Chief was right—today’s agenda was a tough one. Officially, the discussion was about suppressing the Scarletborn, but the meeting at Roharlak Concentration Camp was really just an inspection disguised as a meeting with Deculein.

"Hmm."

Despite keeping her Scarletborn origins well hidden, Deputy Director Primien couldn’t shake the unease that came with confronting Deculein.

"How much farther?" Primien asked.

"We\'re nearly there," the driver responded.

Primien turned her gaze to the window. Roharlak Concentration camp loomed in the middle of a desolate wasteland, its construction still ongoing. She couldn’t help but smirk cynically at the bleak sight.

"We’ve arrived."

"Alright," Primien said to the driver. As soon as she stepped out of the car, she scanned her surroundings for Deculein.

"The Professor is over there," said Yulie, the knight clad in white, as she pointed to a tall watchtower.

Deculein stood at the top, surveying the camp. Despite the barren, sweltering surroundings, he remained impeccably dressed in a suit... the very professor who had taken the lives of seven Scarletborn in just one night.

Suppressing a surge of anger, Primien maintained her composure and greeted him calmly, "Professor."

Deculein looked down at her, his gaze keen. With a curt nod, he said, "You’ve arrived."

"Yes. Someone else has joined me, though I doubt you invited him," Primien said, gesturing with a nod behind her as a mage stepped out of the car and approached them.

"Ah, Professor Deculein," called a stout, muscular man as he approached with a broad smile. "It’s me Bethan!"

Bethan, the head of the Beorad family, had once been at odds with Deculein over the Scarletborn issue in Berhert. But now, he approached with a cheerful smile.

"Bethan?"

"Yes, it’s Bethan. There was a significant misunderstanding last time. I failed to grasp your grand vision!" Bethan said, his eyes sweeping over the concentration camp grounds with satisfaction. "I came to offer my personal apology... This place is such a wonderful place. Truly remarkable."

Primien observed them with cold disdain, silently questioning what they could possibly find so remarkable.

"... Indeed, it is a fine place," Deculein murmured as he descended from the watchtower.

Deculein turned to Primien and asked, "Deputy Director Primien, I understand the Ministry of Public Safety is inspecting the concentration camp. What are your thoughts? The central funds have been utilized efficiently, with no waste."

Primien looked between Deculein, Bethan, and the camp’s framework before responding, "Is there truly a need to inspect a mere concentration camp? Proceed as you wish, Professor."

As she spoke, a sharp pain pierced her heart. The thought of the Scarletborn, who would soon be imprisoned and left to die here, made her mouth go dry.

Bethan said, "Indeed, Professor! Why would such a brilliant plan need inspection or approval? If you require any assistance from Beorad, just say the word. Beorad and I will always support Yukline."

"... Is that so?" Deculein chuckled, remembering Bethan’s demeanor in Berhert. "If an inspection isn’t necessary, there’s no reason to linger here. Let’s proceed to a restaurant in Hadecaine."

"Yes!"

"... Yes."

Primien, on the other hand, remained noticeably reserved.

When Deculein returned to Hadecaine, he took them to Light and Salt, the city’s most famous restaurant, even among its many three-star venues.

Bethan inclined his head slightly and said, “It should be my honor to host you, Professor. Please, when you visit Beorad, grant me the privilege of repaying your kindness.”

Seated between Deculein and Bethan, Primien felt as though she were caught in a fiery trap.

"It’s an honor, Head of Yukline," the restaurant’s manager said, presenting the menu to Deculein.

"You two should decide. You’re the guests," Deculein said, handing the menu over to Bethan and Primien with a gracious nod.

Primien had been considering the steak, but when Bethan noticed something on the menu, he chuckled knowingly and said, "Ah, I see. As expected of you, Professor Deculein—truly remarkable..."

“For starters, bring us three servings of the Rotaili soup.”

Primien’s fingers trembled slightly. Rotaili soup—made with Rotaili mushrooms, a rare and expensive ingredient known for its ability to purify demonic energy.

Although not lethal to the Scarletborn, Rotaili was one of the three forbidden foods for their kind. If consumed, it would trigger a noticeable reaction as the mushroom’s demonic energy-purifying effects clashed with the energy in their blood.

“... What’s your opinion, Deputy Director Primien?” Bethan asked, his tone deceptively innocent.

Keeping her usual stoic expression, Primien nodded and replied, “I don’t particularly care for mushrooms. In fact, I generally avoid them... However, given the quality of Rotaili, I suppose it’s worth consuming. After all, it’s said to be quite beneficial to one’s health.”

Her voice held firm, even as her heart raced.

“Indeed, it’s highly beneficial,” Bethan agreed with a smile, as Deculein observed in silence.

From the moment they arrived at the restaurant, it was clear that this had been a test. Now cornered without realizing it, Primien knew she couldn’t afford to reveal any physical signs of distress.

“Here is the Rotaili soup, garnished with basil,” the waiter said as he presented the dish.

“Haha, I appreciate it,” Bethan said, immediately taking a spoonful.

Deculein ate with careful precision, while Primien paused to sip her water, delaying before she touched her soup.

Deculein, observing her hesitation, said, “You truly dislike mushrooms that much?”

“Yes, it stems from a childhood trauma. I once ate a poisonous mushroom by mistake. Growing up in a rural area where starvation was common, such incidents weren’t unusual.”

Bethan interjected, “But this is Rotaili, Deputy Director. By weight, it’s more precious than gold. Its health benefits are unmatched, and the taste is extraordinary. You’ll find it a rare delight.”

“Indeed,” Primien said as she reached for her spoon.

She dipped the spoon into the soup, watching as the thick, yellow liquid slid back into the bowl. For Primien, time seemed to drag on endlessly.

Drip, Drip, Drip.

The thick liquid dripped back into the bowl as the restaurant echoed with the refined laughter of nobles. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, her composure barely holding. Noticing a waiter passing by, Primien subtly used Telekinesis to draw the waiter closer to the table.

The waiter cried out in surprise, stumbling and yanking the tablecloth, sending dishes crashing to the floor. The soup bowl shattered on impact. In that instant, the entire restaurant\'s attention turned toward them. Primien silently exhaled in relief.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Bethan barked.

“I apologize! I’m truly sorry!” the waiter said, bowing repeatedly, her voice filled with remorse.

Deculein rested his spoon on the table, turning his attention to Primien.

Meeting Deculein’s gaze, Bethan grinned and said, “That’s enough. Just bring us another bowl of soup!”

“No, I deeply apologize. I’ll cover the cost of the damages—”

“There’s no need,” Deculein interrupted, raising a hand to halt her.

Misunderstanding Deculein\'s intent, Bethan continued, "Yes, don’t worry about the damages. Just bring us another soup—"

“I said, there is no need.”

“... Sorry?”

"Don’t trouble yourself with such trivial matters," Deculein said, his sharp gaze cutting off Bethan’s overeagerness. "Deputy Director Primien is my guest."

“I-I see,” Bethan replied, though his expression remained doubtful as he held his tongue.

Primien breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the restaurant’s patrons returned to their meals, with classical music restoring a calm atmosphere. Once the appetizer was finished, the main course was served. Primien opted for the garlic steak, while Deculein and Bethan chose the refined Paranimang fish stew.

“Oh, Professor, will you be going to the Training Island as well?” Bethan inquired.

“Indeed.”

“As I expected, Professor. Let’s travel together, then. I also intend to stay for a while. Watching the young mages grow is truly a rare chance...” Bethan continued to heap praise on Deculein, his demeanor akin to that of an obedient Doberman striving to please its master.

Despite Bethan\'s solid frame, his shorter stature made his attempts to win favor appear almost pitiful beside Deculein’s commanding presence.

As Primien ate her steak, she couldn’t stop thinking about whether Deculein had noticed her Telekinesis earlier. He was a genius of spell interpretation—surely he hadn’t overlooked such a subtle act. Her thoughts drifted, and before long, she found herself unsure if she was even tasting the steak at all.

After swallowing the last bite, Primien carefully said, "Thank you for the meal. May I be excused for a moment?"

"Yes, you may," Deculein replied.

Primien stood and walked to the restroom in a daze. She gripped the sink tightly, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

“... I’m feeling sick,” Primien muttered to herself.

Primien paused to gauge how she felt, then moved to one of the stalls. The moment she entered, she expelled everything she had eaten—the steak, the wine, the greens—until her stomach was empty. When she eventually left the restroom, she found Deculein waiting just outside.

“Deputy Director,” Deculein called.

Her stomach churned again at the sight of him.

In a detached tone, he said, "Did you vomit?"

“Yes, I think I overate. Professor, have you finished your meal?”

"Bethan and I have finished, but Yulie is still dining."

“... I see. In that case, I’ll excuse myself.”

Primien was about to pass by when his voice made her stop.

“I wasn’t aware you had an aversion to mushrooms.”

"Yes, Professor. We haven’t had many meals together."

"Hmm," Deculein murmured, his tone laced with an unsettling undertone.

Primien cleared her throat and faced him, feeling as though his gaze was piercing right through her.

"Primien, do you know something?" Deculein asked.

“What do you mean?”

"We previously met in Berhert, didn’t we? We dined together at a restaurant there."

Primien nodded. They had shared a meal in Berhert, but she couldn’t fathom why he was bringing it up now.

"The dish that day was steak with mushrooms."

For a moment, Primien’s body stiffened at his words. Deculein stayed silent, his icy blue eyes locked on her—cold and vacant, like those of a specter. Faced with that ghostly gaze, Primien found herself contemplating her existence, her mind going blank as her head throbbed and her heart pounded uncontrollably.

But then...

“I was only speaking in jest,” Deculein said, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. With a casual shrug, he added, “As if I could remember... what we dined on all those years ago.”

Pat—

His gloved hand settled on her shoulder.

Deculein patted her shoulder twice, as if in approval, and said, “You handled things well today. I apologize for Bethan’s lack of manners.”

“... Thank you. I wish you a pleasant evening.”

Yulie hurried out after finishing her meal, with Deculein following her as they left the restaurant. Primien paused briefly before walking a few more steps down the hallway, then turned back toward the restroom.

Primien walked back to the stall, her movements calm and measured, as if nothing had happened.

Once,

Twice,

Three times,

Four times,

Five times.

She retched again and again, as many times as she had questioned her life, until only yellow bile was left.

"... Hmm," Primien muttered as she straightened up, gazing at herself in the mirror. "That’s a bit better."

Her fingers trembled slightly as she straightened her tie and brought some color back to her pale complexion.

“What had I eaten back then?”

Primien couldn’t recall what the meal had been, but someone else likely would. Not that it mattered anymore.

"... My face is burning," Primien muttered, splashing cold water on her skin before leaning over and submerging her face under the running faucet.