OHNIR – Chapter 45
Chapter 45: The Truth
Although she had no idea what Kevit was doing in the academic building, Kelusta didn't seem the least bit interested. She remained focused on her task, leaning against a pillar and sneezing as she lay in wait for Musen.
“Temporary Host, should you perhaps go to the medical office later for some medicine?” the System suggested with concern. “You don't seem to be in good shape.”
It had only been a minor cold the day before yesterday... She had no idea why it had gotten so much worse.
Kelusta sighed and rubbed the tip of her red nose. “Alright,” she said, resigned. “I’ll make another trip this afternoon.”
If she didn't, she was genuinely afraid she might suffocate on the spot from the congestion.
Once the crowd had mostly thinned and the academic building was no longer packed, Kelusta hurried onto the ground floor, where thick stone walls blocked the cold wind. She stood in the open space, where only a few people lingered, and considered her options. A mischievous grin spread across her face. Taking advantage of a moment when no one was looking, she tiptoed over and hid behind the large, open bronze door.
Once she was hidden, the System couldn't help but remark, “Have I mentioned that you’re being particularly childish today?”
Playing house was one thing, but now you’re playing hide-and-seek too?
“What do you know,” Kelusta said, meticulously arranging the hem of her skirt over her knees to ensure not a single inch was visible. Only when she was satisfied with her concealment did she speak to the System again. “The last time we parted, Musen looked so awkward he seemed to wish he’d never see me again. I imagine he felt about the same as I did when I recited poetry for Wend. If I just show up now like nothing happened, he’ll probably try to run away.”
“True,” the System agreed wholeheartedly. “After all, not everyone is as thick-skinned as you are.”
“…” Kelusta pretended not to hear, maintaining a strained composure as she continued her analysis. “Someone like Musen appears aloof and unapproachable, but he’s actually the type who can’t handle enthusiasm. The more assertive and shameless you are, the more willing he is to open up.”
At this, the brown-haired girl stroked her chin and sighed with genuine feeling. “Honestly, if any of those girls who showed interest in him had just stuck with it… I probably wouldn’t have this opportunity to swoop in and raise his affection level.”
But what can you do? Times have changed. The thick-skinned and ruthless win the day.
The System quietly jotted down her analysis and asked absently, “So now… you’re planning to give him an enthusiastic scare?”
“Watch your tone,” Kelusta said, annoyed. “Can the actions of a scholar be called a ‘scare’? This is an innovative form of greeting!”
The System fell silent, secretly resolving to submit feedback to the higher-dimension developers when it returned and slap a ‘childish’ tag on this heroine.
With her extensive stakeout experience, Kelusta had long since memorized Musen’s class schedule and the exact time he left the building. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the building emptied out completely. The black-haired boy—still slender, but now noticeably taller—descended the stairs. He was holding two thick, similarly colored books that looked like a two-volume set. His pale face was devoid of expression, and a faint chill clung to him.
Kelusta peeked out with one eye but remained perfectly still, keeping herself carefully concealed as she waited for him to walk past her hiding spot.
As expected, Musen walked straight toward the exit without a sideways glance, completely oblivious. Kelusta listened to his footsteps, silently counted to five, and then leaped out from behind the door. Grinning, she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted with wicked delight, “Gooood af-ter-nooon!”
She looked as silly as one of those prank toys with a spring-loaded boxing glove that pops out of a gift box. It was childish, but it was certainly effective at startling someone.
“...!”
The unsuspecting black-haired boy fell for it completely.
In that startled instant, Musen’s eyes and body snapped into a defensive posture. He subconsciously brought two fingers together and flicked his wrist. Kelusta immediately felt a faint breeze carrying an imperceptible threat, a cold, subtle caress against her vulnerable neck.
She blinked, a subtle movement, and the smile on her lips deepened.
A fitting reflex. He was worthy of being the piece she’d chosen.
Before she could observe any more, however, the startled boy snapped back to reality. He quickly lowered his hand to hide the gesture and snapped, “Why would you jump out and scare someone for no reason? Are you that bored?”
As he retracted his magic, the strands of Kelusta’s hair that had been lifted by the wind magic settled back down. In response to his accusation, she offered a placating smile and said in a soothing tone, as if pacifying a child, “Alright, alright, I was just teasing. Don’t be angry. How about I buy you a juice?”
Disarmed by her good-natured apology, Musen could only let his anger subside. He pursed his lips and shot her a displeased glare.
She was always messing around, he thought, frustrated.
It was a good thing he’d reacted quickly and hadn’t formed a wind blade… otherwise, they’d probably be on their way to the medical office right now.
While he grumbled to himself, he cast a subtle, worried glance at Kelusta’s neck, confirming that she hadn’t been hurt. In his conflicted state, he momentarily forgot the urge to turn and flee that had struck him the instant he saw her.
“What kind of juice?” Musen asked sullenly, his voice lacking enthusiasm. “Let’s get one thing straight—if you order me a durian-peach blend without asking again, like last time… then congratulations, you won’t see me again for the next hundred years.”
“Why do you hold such a grudge? I’ll let you order for yourself this time, alright? I’ve learned my lesson,” Kelusta mumbled, turning to walk down the hall. “Durian smells wonderful,” she added, unconvinced. “You just have no taste.”
Musen didn’t deign to reply. He just wearily pinched the bridge of his nose, looking utterly exhausted, though his grip on the two books tightened.
The beverage shop wasn’t far from the academic building. It was a small, fairytale-style wooden cabin. True to her word, Kelusta handed the menu to Musen. After a long hesitation, he ordered the cheapest item: a glass of lemonade.
Kelusta didn’t try to change his mind. She simply took the menu back and ordered a milk tea for herself.
They took an inconspicuous table by the window.
Though it was cold outside, the sunlight was still brilliant. Musen’s two large tomes sat on the small table, casting long shadows that overlapped with their drinks, making the tabletop seem crowded and cluttered.
Kelusta picked up a small silver spoon and stirred her cup. A rich, milky fragrance wafted up with the steam, sweet enough for even her congested nose to detect.
Once the milk and tea were perfectly blended, she set the spoon aside, raised the steaming cup for a sip, and closed her eyes in bliss. Then, she reached out and tapped the leather cover of the top book. “What’s this?” she asked, her curiosity piqued. “It’s strange. It doesn’t look like one of our textbooks, or any of the history books from the library… I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”
The words had barely left her mouth when the black-haired boy, who was sipping his lemonade, froze. He instinctively lowered his gaze and mumbled, “…Someone gave it to me.”
Hearing the tone of his voice, Kelusta blinked. She set down her cup and studied Musen, whose expression was suddenly quite unnatural.
So, there was more to these books than met the eye.
Kelusta’s first official mission had been to ‘Unlock the 【Sage】 Title.’ To achieve it, she had spent countless days grinding away in the library. Even now, she knew its collection inside and out, and had developed a severe case of history-related PTSD in the process.
Yet she had never seen the two books Musen was carrying today. It was, to say the least, extremely strange.
“As everyone knows, in the entire Kingdom of Nobili, all books aside from historical texts are housed in the Royal Library. Even the Holy Light Magic Academy was only granted special permission by the first king to possess paper textbooks that have been fully registered and accounted for. As for the schools for ordinary, non-magic folk, they’ve had to rely on hand-copied texts passed down through the generations for centuries.”
The brown-haired girl narrowed her eyes, tapping the book whose title was nowhere to be seen. “I’m certain this book isn’t in the Academy’s library,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “and none of our textbooks look anything like this…”
Musen kept his head down, his back ramrod straight. His fingers tightened, gripping the lemonade glass.
Kelusta watched him, pursing her lips with a soft sigh. She didn’t relent, however, and continued in a lower voice, “I’ve heard that illegally possessing a restricted book—without authorization from the kingdom or without it being gifted or loaned by an authorized person—is grounds for prosecution and punishment by the Royal Palace, for nobles and commoners alike…”
“And as far as I know, no commoner has ever been granted a legal certificate of ownership directly from the Royal Family. So, Classmate Musen, you’d better explain yourself. Where did you get these books?”
Hearing the serious edge to Kelusta’s question, Musen frowned. He glanced uneasily at the two books, then hesitated for a moment before saying, “Don’t worry. I obtained them legitimately.”
Kelusta was surprised. “Which is…?”
“A gift from a noble.”
Musen sighed deeply, a look of resignation on his face. “Do you know… Miss Hippol, from our year?”
Miss Hippol?
Kelusta did know of her. She was Lewis Hippol’s younger sister, Tina Hippol.
But she knew of the young lady not because of Lewis, whom she had only met once, but because Tina Hippol herself… was quite well-known at the Holy Light Magic Academy.
Kelusta’s expression was odd. “You mean the second daughter of the Count’s family? The one who’s supposedly been frail and sickly since childhood, was spoiled rotten, and is so soft-hearted she wouldn’t even harm an insect?”
“…That’s the one,” Musen said with a sigh. “Earlier today, by the washrooms in the hall—she must have slipped on a puddle—anyway, for whatever reason, she suddenly slipped and nearly fell flat on the floor. Her friends were all some distance away, and I was worried she’d get hurt, so I helped her up. But afterward, she wouldn’t let me leave, insisting I had to ask for something as a reward.”
“Wow,” Kelusta said, picturing the scene. “A hero saving the damsel in distress?”
Musen shot her a glare and continued, “I was in a hurry to leave, and I saw she was holding… well, this set of books. I assumed she’d borrowed them from the library, so I just asked for them and left quickly.”
“I had no idea until I got back to the classroom and flipped through a few pages that they were actually part of the Royal Library’s collection, on loan to the Hippol family.”
As he spoke, Musen turned the book over. The one underneath seemed to be in the way, so he moved it to an empty chair beside him. Holding just the top book, he brought it closer to Kelusta to show her the proprietary marks on the back: the seal of the ‘Royal Library’ and the ‘Hippol Family Crest.’
Kelusta took it from him, running a hand over the smooth leather cover. “Compared to this, the books in the Academy library are positively shoddy,” she said in amazement. “They’re little more than parchment held together with staples. They’d look embarrassing just sitting next to this.”
Musen, however, was in no mood for admiration. He sighed, looking troubled. “I never imagined it would be so valuable… If I’d known it was such a hot potato, I never would have helped her. I wouldn’t have lifted a finger.”
“How heartless. Miss Hippol willingly gave you a book from the Royal Library’s own collection,” Kelusta said, clicking her tongue. “You’re so ungrateful.”
Musen glared at her again. “Whose side are you on, anyway?” he snapped.
“I’m neutral,” Kelusta replied casually. She grew serious after a moment’s thought, her playful tone gone. “In any case, make sure you keep it somewhere safe. Hide it, and don’t let anyone know it came from a noble. You don’t want any unnecessary trouble.”
Having been bullied for years, Musen understood this better than Kelusta did. But there was a difference between knowing something yourself and having someone else worry on your behalf. The prickly boy froze when he heard her words. After a long silence, he mumbled shyly, “…I know.”
“Ding, Musen’s affection +5.”
Kelusta was considerate enough not to point out his bashfulness. She kept her head down, flipping through the book and skimming the text. “Have you read it yet?” she asked with interest. “What’s it about?”
“I’ve read a little,” Musen said, a nervous edge to his hesitation. “It’s about the origins and attributes of magic… If you want to read it, I can lend it to you for a while.”
Kelusta raised an eyebrow and handed the book back, gently refusing. “Even if it’s a gift from a noble, a commoner recipient can’t just pass it on to someone else, not even to borrow. I know that much. So, no thanks. Anyway, you can just tell me all about it after you’ve finished reading. That’s not too late.”
Musen took the book, looking relieved. He casually placed it on the chair next to the other volume, gave Kelusta a quick smile, and said softly, “Alright. Then after I’ve finished… I’ll tell you everything it says.”
After finishing their drinks, they parted ways. Kelusta headed to the medical office for a new prescription, while Musen walked alone toward the tower, clutching the two books.
Only after he returned to his old, damp dormitory room, head bowed, did Musen finally release his grip. He placed the two books on his desk and stared down at them in silence.
After a long while, the black-haired boy sighed. Like an insomniac long deprived of sleep, he gently covered his eyes with one bony hand.
A moment later, when he lowered his hand and opened his eyes, they had found no rest. His dark pupils were still filled with a bottomless bitterness and exhaustion.
…Because he was guilty. Because he had lied to Kelusta.
In silence, Musen laid the two similarly colored books side by side. The one he had shown Kelusta, he placed on the left. The one he had deliberately moved to the chair, he gently placed on the right.
He placed a palm on each cover and, following Miss Hippol’s instructions, whispered two different incantations. The books suddenly began to glow with different colored lights.
The book on the left shone with a clear, sky-blue light. On its dark, earth-brown cover, a long string of off-white, cursive words slowly materialized: The Essential Attributes of Magic: Natural Magic, Light Magic, and Dark Magic.
The book on the right, however, was completely different, both in the light it emitted and the feeling it gave off.
—Its light was a dull gray, flickering faintly and slowly at an unsettling rhythm, barely visible against the mahogany-colored cover.
Musen suppressed his unease and stared at the book for a long time. Only after the light had completely faded did a series of markings slowly appear on the cover. At first glance, they seemed like a chaotic sprawl, but on closer inspection, they appeared to follow some kind of pattern.
The black-haired boy reached out, his fingertips gently tracing the silver-gilt script that sprawled across the cover like wild vines. A scroll seemed to unroll in his mind, and he precisely translated the title, syllable by syllable, into the common tongue of Nobili.
Demon Linguistics—A Civilization from the Continent’s Edge.
The black-haired boy’s fingers twitched as he slowly opened the book.
As expected, every sentence was written in the complex, ornate script of the demons. And, just as expected, Musen, who had grown up as a wanderer in the Kingdom of Nobili, could understand every word.
“So it’s true… I can understand all of it, whether it’s the demon script documented in the history books or not.”
He gave an emotionless laugh and murmured, “So it’s true. What they said was real. I’m an outsider hiding among the crowd. An Unclean One who fled from the Continent’s Edge to the capital.”
In that deserted hallway, a line of script on the book the noble girl was holding had caught his eye. In that fleeting glance, the pattern-like text had imprinted itself on his mind, its meaning instantly and precisely deciphered.
This time, it wasn’t some joke like ‘For trial use only.’
In his terror, the black-haired boy realized his subconscious reaction had been to silently summon the power of the wind.
He had used the wind to carry a splash of water from the washroom, scattering it in Tina Hippol’s path. Then, just as she was about to fall, he had reached out at the perfect moment. All of it was a deliberate ploy to obtain this book… the book that would give him the information he needed to finally confirm his identity.
Miss Hippol was indeed a kind and terribly naive girl. She was genuinely grateful to the very person who had caused her fall. When Musen made his request, she even took another book on magic attributes from the companion attending to her and gave both to the boy who had just ‘helped’ her.
If the story had been as Musen told Kelusta, it would have been a rather charming anecdote.
The hidden truth, however, painted one of them as despicable, with methods as vile as a rat scurrying across a street.
“So it’s true…” The black-haired boy closed his eyes, ending the recollection. “It’s true,” he murmured to himself. “I really am a demon.”
—The nature of a demon is to be unscrupulous.
—Every drop of blood shed during the Cruel Era is proof of that.
They inherited their creator’s paranoia, cruelty, violence, and love for lies. Whatever they desire, they will stop at nothing to grasp it firmly in their hands, even if they know it will wound them.
He had used the count’s innocent, simple-minded daughter.
The truth he sought had wounded him.
And he had deceived with lies the girl named Ruth, the one who had so steadfastly comforted, encouraged, and trusted him.
“I am indeed a demon, but I refuse to act like one—selfishly and cowardly clutching my own life in my hands.”
There was no light in his dark eyes. A few wisps of wind stirred in the room, rustling his hair. Musen’s voice was filled with an indescribable emotion, as if he were swearing an oath. Hoarse and low, he spoke, pausing on every word:
“I will dedicate my life to the one who has always believed in me. Whoever I am in her eyes, that is who I will be. Whatever she believes I will do, that is what I will do.”
“I am your wandering disciple, the demon who has just accepted his identity, your faithful believer, Lady Talebris…”
“Goddess of Darkness, I offer my soul as contract. I ask you to bear witness to this vow.”
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