Invincible
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#160
🕑 Added 2024-12-04 16:33:22 +0000 UTCLipstick (2)
“It was similar to what happened in the Schlaphe Hall.”
I said that to Rockefeller in the office.
Strange occurrences were not only common in the Schlaphe Hall but often happened in the Buerger Hall as well. That place wasn’t near the Adele Hall dormitory, and to be precise, it was closer to the Buerger Hall. Perhaps slightly convinced, he fell silent.
“Hmm. Still, it’s strange. Have incidents like this, which one would expect only in the dormitory, ever spread into the inner fortress…?”
A thought came to me that added some credibility to my point.
“It might have been affected by the recent large-scale construction.”
The repair work on the fortress, carried out due to the Luon incident, was handled by noble youngsters rather than skilled workers, so it wouldn’t be surprising if they meddled with something unintentionally. As intended, Rockefeller accepted this explanation quite easily.
“That does seem suspicious.”
For the next few minutes, questions about what exactly happened inside continued. I answered evasively. Talking about things like a forbidden tome in there or the lingering thoughts of ancient soldiers who once attacked this place would only add to the confusion.
“…Well, there were things like that. Like ghosts sobbing in pitch darkness.”
“Nothing too unusual, then. Got it. Now get lost.”
Rockefeller waved his hand as if swatting a fly, his eyes weary. I thought of saying something in response, but seeing him in this state, it seemed he hadn't slept due to this incident. For today, I should just let it go graciously.
I got up from my seat and headed toward the door. I stopped briefly and asked Rockefeller a question about the mysterious figure who seemed to stop time.
“By the way, Professor, has the Academy hired any new instructors?”
“Hmm? Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering. Thought there might be something new worth learning.”
Rockefeller sneered, curling his lips.
“Something to learn? There’s no meaningful teaching for someone on the path of magic like you. Just give up.”
I looked at Rockefeller with half-lidded eyes. Come to think of it, he’s an unusual type of mage himself. Remembering all the trouble Rockefeller has caused me, I dismissed the thought that had briefly crossed my mind.
…No way am I asking this guy to teach me magic.
“Enough of that talk. I answered all your questions, Professor; now answer mine.”
“Hmph. We’re not so flush with funds to waste it on that. Now, if you understand, clear your face from my sight.”
What a temper. I shot him a quick glare and exited the office.
I’d asked just in case, not wanting to overlook even a small possibility, but of course, the answer was as expected.
After all, there couldn’t be anyone else capable of time-stopping other than that woman. Not to mention, there were clues—purple lipstick and black hair.
Without a doubt, she was Dorosian from the future.
But why did she steal the ‘Forbidden Book of Blackblood’ that I had hidden in my inventory?
Then, considering the prerequisites for such an incident to occur, my mind became tangled.
She knew I was alive.
The fact that she stole the tome suggested she’d likely been watching me from somewhere.
She had even perfectly replicated my inventory magic.
Recently?
Or has it been for a long time?
From what point she had been watching me, I searched for clues, but no immediate answer surfaced. That wasn’t the most important issue anyway. I put aside my new questions and returned to the main point.
“…Why did she steal the tome?”
I wasn’t sure what she intended to do with it, but she surely didn’t want the world to end either. I could optimistically think she wouldn’t do anything reckless. Still, her twisted personality, even more so than the Dorosian I’d regularly seen, left me uneasy. Surely, what I feared wouldn't actually happen…?
***
A woman atop the fortress wall took out a hand mirror. In it, her lips were faintly smeared with purple lipstick.
“As I thought, it’s smudged.”
Dorosian from the future, touched up her makeup and gazed out the corridor window of the fortress. Hersel was walking toward Adele Hall, possibly after finishing an interrogation. She watched him absentmindedly for a moment, lightly rubbing her lips.
“To think he even managed to stop time…?”
When he disappeared from view, Dorosian took out the “Forbidden Book of Blackblood.”
“There’s absolutely no weakness I can exploit.”
A gentle breeze rose, and her hair fluttered. With a faint smile, she vanished with the wind.
***
In his room, Ecok sat wide-eyed, biting his nails.
“Damn it.”
Of all things, the tome ended up in Hersel’s hands. Even if he was only a first-year, he was a monster beyond the level of a typical student. There was nothing he could do about it.
“He expects me to retrieve the book from that bastard?”
Could there be anything more insane? Even when he’d tried to follow quietly, Hersel had already noticed him. It was a miracle he’d managed to keep his intentions hidden and escape unscathed.
“Argh! Damn it! Why am I the only one suffering like this?!”
Ecok screamed, yanking at his shirt, which ripped with a tear. As countless scars were exposed, painful memories began flooding back.
Ecok’s family had fallen long ago. All their businesses failed, and his parents had taken their own lives, leaving him and his younger sister behind. All they inherited were their bodies and a mountain of debt. Worst of all, they owed that debt to an exceptionally cruel man.
‘I would’ve rather had some loan sharks after me.’
If that had been the case, he might have been sold off somewhere. But this was a nobleman with a sadistic hobby who didn’t want money—he wanted something else.
"Just one. Kill just one person, and the remaining debt will be wiped clean."
The nobleman had unleashed a hunting dog in a field. The thought of clearing the debt by killing only one person was tempting. But seeing his younger sister’s fearful, trembling eyes, he couldn’t go through with it.
“Run! Get away now!”
He threw himself at the hunting dog, intending to die in her place. The moment its teeth sank into him, blood flowed, and its bite was strong enough to tear flesh. As he struggled on the dusty ground, the old man cackled, clutching his belly with laughter.
“Ah, what a tear-jerking sight.”
Ecok wanted nothing more than to tear that man’s skin with his teeth like the hunting dog. Yet, he swallowed the curses that threatened to spill from his lips. Angering him could mean a senseless death.
Still, he held back...
“Look at her, running away without looking back. Didn’t your parents leave you both behind, too? It seems that girl inherited the bloodline most strongly.” The old man gestured to a soldier, took the crossbow handed to him, and aimed at Ecok’s fleeing younger sister.
“W-Wait! That’s not what we agreed upon!”
“Hmm? What do you mean by ‘not what we agreed’? I decide whether to kill her or not. Don’t worry; if that girl dies, the debt will be cleared.”
Ecok rushed toward the old man, his flesh tearing where the hunting dog had bitten and tugged. But before he could reach him, the old man had already fired the arrow without a hint of hesitation.
Swish!
Ecok prayed it would miss. But his sister began to fall forward, and he saw the arrow lodged in the back of her head.
“Ah, that was fun. You know, playing with commoners just doesn’t compare to this sort of… pedigree.”
In the end, the man kept his word. He burned the debt papers in front of Ecok’s eyes, took back the hunting dog, and left him alone in the field.
“…No, no. Hell began right then.”
If his suffering had ended there, it would have been a little less tormenting. With no family and nothing to his name, his only place to stay was an orphanage. Ecok ended up at an orphanage run by the Order of the Sun, where he immediately faced intense bullying from the street orphans.
“What? Eating with unwashed hands? Think you're too good for us, noble?”
“He still thinks he’s special. You’re done for here, Ecok. Done. Crawl on the floor like the dog you are.”
“Ooh, that’s good. When else are we gonna see the young master grovel?”
The worst part was realizing who had influenced those orphans. The priests at the orphanage were, ironically, nothing like holy figures; they were horrifying beings who made him question if they truly believed in God.
“Ecok, you are possessed by a demon. That’s why you’ve been punished until now.”
“P-Please, Priest. The demon’s gone. It’s gone! Please, just stop…”
They frequently used “exorcising the demon” as an excuse to whip him, and some of them were depraved enough to indulge their twisted desires on the children. Ecok endured the hellish environment with gritted teeth. He feigned respect for the orphan leader and appeased the priests, observing their desires and acting accordingly.
Ecok survived by adapting to that vile society. As a result, he focused on finding a way to enter the priesthood and eventually enrolled at Frostheart. But here, he encountered something that forced him to confront his long-suppressed desires.
“Confession? What is that?”
Rimaal, a member of the Special Ward, responded, “It’s an act of beginning atonement by admitting one’s sins.”
“I haven’t sinned. I didn’t do those things.”
“Hmm, well, any concerns you have? Anything you say might help, even if only a little.”
He was a curious man, wise yet pure-hearted. Ecok thought for a moment.
“Concerns… maybe you could give me an example.”
At first, Ecok shared trivial things. But then something surprising happened. Day by day, he shared more with him, eventually revealing even the deepest parts of himself he’d hidden away.
“Yes, that’s my life story up to this point. How did things turn out like this? What did I do so wrong to deserve this punishment?”
As Ecok’s thoughts grew both relieved and despairing, a perspective he had never considered emerged from Rimaal’s words.
“Ecok, it’s because you lacked power. If you’d had power, you could’ve become the leader among the orphans. The priests would have treated you well too, because rewards go to those who control the masses.”
Just as Rimaal said, the priests were lenient with the orphan leader, even praising and feeding him well for keeping the children in line.
“But you desire something deeper. It’s not just power or honor you seek. You’ve always been angry, haven’t you?”
Hearing those words, Ecok felt like Rimaal had struck a chord within him.
“Why do I have to bow to such people? Why did my parents abandon me? Why do others seem blessed while I am plagued with such terrible misfortune? I must have committed some terrible sin, right? How many times have I tortured myself with that thought?”
When he heard this, he finally recognized an emotion he had long buried.
“You know the truth—that it wasn’t you but them who were wrong. Yet, you thought revenge was impossible, so you turned your gaze away. It’s a bit of relief, isn’t it, to aim your anger at yourself?”
Rimaal was right. What Ecok truly wanted was power, and revenge against them all. Yet, he had only comforted himself by acknowledging his own weakness and berating his failures.
“I’ll help you, Ecok. I’ll help you gain the power you’ve lacked. Then, share with me your impressions.”
Ecok finished reflecting on his past and slammed his fist down on the desk.
“Aagh! Why is it only me? Why am I the only one without a single good thing?”
Tears of frustration dripped down his face. After sobbing and heaving for some time, he laid his head on the desk and drifted off to sleep.
He wasn’t sure how long had passed when he woke up to the sensation of something damp in his hands. Startled, he looked down.
“Huh?”
It was a black-covered book. He recognized it as the same tome Hersel had dropped on the floor.
“The Forbidden Book of Black Blood…?”
This time, tears of a different kind welled up in his eyes. Had Rimaal brought it to him? He didn’t know, but Ecok clutched the tome tightly to his chest like a child protecting a precious treasure, holding it close for several minutes. For him, this was the most hopeful moment in his life.
***
Having fallen asleep late, my body felt weary. I closed my drowsy eyes completely, and even the professor, who was writing equations on the blackboard, seemed to show consideration by not disturbing me.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I felt someone shaking my shoulder.
“Hersel, time for the next class.”
Ricks stood there with a wry smile, holding a briefcase. It looked like he had packed up the study materials for me while I slept.
“Sorry for going through your stuff without permission. You looked pretty tired.”
“No, thank you for helping me out.”
“Really? But are you okay for the next class? I doubt anyone would mind if you skipped it entirely.”
After a deep nap, I felt refreshed.
“I think I’m fully awake now. Let’s go.”
I got up and headed to the next classroom. As we walked down the hallway, Ricks spoke.
"Anyway, you’ve got the worst luck. Everyone’s been enjoying this peaceful atmosphere lately, and then something like this happens to you."
"Yeah, right."
“Still, I’m glad you made it back.”
“Thanks.”
“But I’m a bit uneasy, you know? Something like this happening out of nowhere—it feels like a bad omen. Maybe it’s some kind of foreshadowing, like we’re about to see all those suppressed issues explode at once.”
This devilish guy. Planting flags like that wherever he pleases…
I sped up, leaving Ricks, the harbinger of curses, behind.
"Hey, Hersel, wait up!"
“Why are you suddenly speeding up like that?”
“Gravel, you were following along too…?"
“I was right next to you?”
My stride wasn’t one that these mages could easily match. I quickly lost them and arrived at the lecture hall door, where I happened to lock eyes with Dorosian, who let out a small “Oh.”
Hmm, no purple lipstick. Looks like it’s the Dorosian I know.
“Here to attend this class?”
“Yeah. I was going to come earlier, but with everything that happened yesterday, I ended up oversleeping.”
Dorosian stretched, and I took the opportunity to study her closely, memorizing any differences to distinguish her from the Dorosian of the future.
“Hmm? Isn’t that a bit of an intense stare?”
“Dorosian.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t wear purple lipstick.”
She blinked, looking at me like I was speaking nonsense, then entered the lecture hall, glancing back with a slight tilt of her head.
“Do you not like purple?”
