There wasn’t anything special about it.
While others were said to have been born with everything, her relationships with her siblings were strained, and her father’s expectations were strangely misplaced.
As befitting a family built on magical science, her siblings competed among themselves, treating people as nothing more than outliers.
Meanwhile, her father’s gaze resembled that of someone studying an experiment rather than a person.
Those who approached her were no different—they arrived with hopes of gaining something once the supposedly predetermined future unfolded, much like opportunistic investors.
Thus, there wasn’t anything special about it: no mundane exchanges of everyday conversations or bonds formed through shared experiences.
This was because the emotions in people’s eyes—expectation, envy, and awe—were far removed from the kind of sentiments that foster human connections.
It didn’t take long for her to grow tired of people.
Dorosian concluded that if this was the extent of relationships that could be formed between herself and others, she might as well add one more dynamic to the mix.
It was a good way to relieve stress and even provided some entertainment.
Living like that, she thought it might be fine to carry on as is.
One day, however, a brash young man appeared, spouting nonsense.
—You’re quite good-looking, but I hear you’re insane? What a waste of a face.
He had suddenly approached and uttered those words, leaving her wide-eyed in astonishment.
It was an odd moment when annoyance mixed with a peculiar sense of human curiosity.
But it was fleeting—her future self had told her he would die soon, and she promptly erased him from her mind…
Yet, he reappeared at Frostheart and now spoke with a cryptic tone:
—One escape leads to another. After the second, comes the third. And just like that, the world meets its end.
Dorosian tied her long black hair back.
Gripping her golden-crafted magic staff, she fell into thought.
‘Wasn’t it the butterfly effect?’
She had been certain that Hersel’s survival was a ripple effect of her chosen actions.
But now, her thoughts began to shift.
He was originally supposed to fall to his death off a cliff two years ago.
What if he had survived because he had knowledge of the future and avoided the crisis?
She wanted to discuss this with him.
But to do so, she would first need to resolve the current predicament or find a way to extract him from this dangerous situation.
Leaning against one side of the auditorium, she raised her head.
In front of Dorosian, seated in a chair, stood Rockefeller, sweating and waving his staff.
The staff was aimed at the restraints, bound by no fewer than three layers, which would take 30 minutes to undo.
Dorosian, looking bored, glanced at me and spoke sharply.
“You know what happens if you break the deal, right?”
The condition she had set upon my arrival here was straightforward:
If I showed even the slightest sign of losing, I would have to abandon Frostheart and leave with Dorosian without resistance.
It was a heavy ultimatum, one that drew a sigh from me.
What it meant was that I had to defeat Dordone in under three minutes without showing any sign of struggle.
Otherwise, I would be forcibly taken away by overwhelming magic.
Rockefeller, overhearing this, expressed his displeasure.
“…These damned people.”
Fair enough, it was natural for him to be angry since I had essentially declared I’d abandon them and flee if things didn’t go well.
What was likely most frustrating for him was that even if Dorosian made such a demand, he’d still have to swallow his pride and think, ‘At least she’s helping us.’
“Dorosian, the professor seems uncomfortable. Should we just leave?”
As we exchanged words, Rockefeller’s grimace began to twitch and eventually relaxed.
Amused by his reaction, I decided to pay him back for his effort.
“Professor, you seem pleased with the offer of help. Isn’t that right?”
“Don’t expect anything nice to come out of my mouth, Hersel Ben Tenest…”
His gritted words were entertaining, but only for a moment.
Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps rang out, followed by the auditorium door being flung open with a loud bang.
“Professor Rockefeller! It’s an emergency!!”
The person who barged in was a fellow professor.
Judging by his trembling eyes, something serious had occurred.
“Well, uh, there’s been an outbreak of a disease at Frostheart…”
“People are falling ill, showing symptoms of coughing and fever. This has to be their doing…”
“This is madness. We’re already short on medical facilities, and now this?”
This wasn’t Dordone’s work; he didn’t have that kind of power.
Faced with this newly added variable, I immediately got to my feet and rushed outside.
People continued to collapse in the drill ground.
Amid the pervasive sound of coughing, Bellman covered his face with a cloth.
“My… my head is spinning.”
“Erucel, what other symptoms do you have?”
“Hmm… aching all over, and it feels like I might throw up.”
The symptoms were largely consistent.
“Chills—there are chills too, Bellman.”
Bellman covered Silla and Leana with blankets and turned to the few still standing.
Perhaps their symptoms hadn’t manifested yet, but the fact that this group remained unaffected suggested they likely had immunity.
“So this isn’t the first time this disease has appeared.”
Immunity is developed after surviving an initial exposure to a virus.
It seemed certain that this disease had circulated in the past.
Bellman approached those still standing and asked them a common question:
“Let me ask you one thing. Where are you from?”
Epidemics tend to be localized.
If the disease had been named in the past, it could provide a clue to creating a cure.
At Frostheart, where various ingredients and experimental tools were abundant, developing a remedy was certainly feasible—especially given the alchemy club’s well-stocked inventory from selling to students.
“Avelan, originally.”
“Ah, me too—though my mother’s from another region.”
However, determining the disease’s name solely based on their origins seemed absurd.
“What is this? There’s barely any commonality. Could it be a very ancient disease?”
The symptoms weren’t much different from an ordinary fever, making everything more difficult to unravel.
As Bellman racked his brain, a sudden crack sound drew his attention sharply.
It came from the outer barrier, which now had a visible fracture.
“The barrier’s breaking?”
It was a chilling moment, but thankfully the barrier quickly repaired itself.
However, atop a stream of seawater that had infiltrated through the breach stood two figures, causing Bellman’s eyes to widen.
They stepped onto the drill ground.
One was a mysterious figure wearing a plague doctor’s mask, while the other was a man whose body, except for his stomach and eyes, was covered entirely in black stains.
It was undoubtedly Ecok Ville Edvance, a member of the student council.
Though Bellman hadn’t heard much from Rockefeller, he vaguely recalled Ecok being mentioned as the prime suspect behind this incident.
Glaring with hostility, Bellman addressed Ecok.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“Hm, seems you’re still in the dark. Well, to explain it quickly…”
Ecok pointed beyond the barrier and continued.
“That whale outside—that was me. Is that explanation sufficient?”
Indeed, the massive whale visible just moments ago had vanished without a trace.
Now that it was clear he was an enemy, Bellman raised his staff.
But the plague doctor intervened, speaking calmly.
“It would be wise to refrain from meaningless actions.”
“When… when did you spread the disease?”
“We infected the spirits with a plague that doesn’t affect them. You fought well, all while unaware of your own infection.”
The plague doctor scanned the injured and made an offer.
“Your forces are on the brink of annihilation. Surrender, and we’ll provide the antidote.”
“Our goal is to restore balance to the world through governance, not to seek the death of humans.”
Even the monkey spirits claimed they enslaved humans for dominance.
Either way, the result for humans was the same: death in another form.
Bellman strengthened the barrier.
Ecok gazed at it with a subtle look and began to walk forward slowly.
“Don’t worry. I don’t intend to harm you. I merely wish to show you that you have no other options.”
Ecok extended a single finger and lightly tapped the barrier.
Bellman poured all his magical energy into maintaining it, but the barrier disintegrated like a mirage, as if it had never existed.
In a panic, the unaffected individuals began charging toward them.
“Stand back, Bellman!”
The professor swung his sword, narrowing Ecok’s eyes.
“But if you still insist on resisting…”
“You cannot escape death.”
In an instant, the professor’s body was hurled against the ceiling of the barrier, leaving a streak of blood as he fell to the ground.
Bellman stood frozen, unable to conceal his shock.
“What just happened?”
It had all happened so quickly. Ecok had made a simple motion, and before anyone realized it, the professor’s body was flung through the air.
Then, suddenly, a voice sounded from behind.
“Hm, I suppose I should at least give you time to think. Let’s see…”
In Ecok’s hand was a familiar pocket watch—the very one Bellman had kept in his possession.
Feeling his now-light pocket, Bellman clutched his staff, unable to suppress the growing fear.
“This… this is something beyond human comprehension.”
Ecok stared at the watch for a moment before announcing a time limit.
“Thirty minutes. Decide by then—whether to surrender or not.”
As he spoke, a loud crash echoed from the ground, and a cloud of dust rose.
“Cough! Cough!” Bellman waved his hand to clear the air.
Emerging from the dust was an old man with a massive hand that had slammed Ecok’s head into the ground.
Even as the old man laughed, Ecok calmly muttered his name.
“For you to reveal yourself on the surface… how fortuitous.”
Arkandric cut off his laughter, his blue-tinged eyes glowing coldly.
“Consider this an opportunity—I will deliver punishment in love. If you reform, you’ll be welcomed back. But, of course, you’ll have to pay the price for your actions.”
His voice was so cold it seemed to freeze the air around them.
Arriving at the drill ground, I was met with chaos. Most people were collapsed, though a few remained standing. But even they were trembling in fear, their gazes fixed on a single point.
As I approached, the crowd parted easily.
A few more steps, and the situation became clear.
Ecok sat on the ground, staring at the pocket watch. Beside him was Arkandric, face pressed into the dirt, blood trickling from his mouth as he writhed.
I tapped Bellman on the shoulder, snapping him out of his daze.
Startled, he whipped his head around.
“Pull yourself together, Bellman. I need you to do something.”
“Create a cure. You know enough to manage that, don’t you?”
Bellman shook his head.
“It’s pointless. Without knowing the name of the disease, there’s no way to proceed.”
Just then, as if perfectly timed, a system window appeared in my vision:
[Threat detected. Type: Corde Plague.]
[1-second immunity activated.]
It seemed I, too, had been infected by the virus, with the symptoms now manifesting.
“Corde,” I said aloud.
Bellman flinched, startled.
“H-how do you know that?”
“No time to explain. Can you create the cure?”
“…It’s an ancient disease, so I don’t know much. But there might be records in the infirmary.”
Bellman sprinted toward the fortress.
Ecok, waiting patiently for our exchange to finish, called my name.
“Ecok Ville Edvance—or should I call you Dordone?”
Ecok pointed to the ground.
“Why don’t you sit and wait? Let’s have a little chat.”
His suggestion was oddly tempting. Though this might be the perfect chance to strike him while he was in human form, he could easily escape back to the sea at any moment.
Without Dorosian’s fully dispelled restraints, I couldn’t guarantee victory.
Then, unexpectedly, Ecok spoke words that piqued my curiosity.
“Forgotten histories of the past. Aren’t you curious?”
To read Chapters ahead 👇
CH 176-180 (Alon Vs Ecok) $3
CH 181-185 (Academy’s downfall) $3
CH 186-190 (Rockefeller) $3
CH 191-195 (Student council president) $3
CH 196-200 (The King) $3
CH 201-205 (Field Trip) $3
CH 206-210 (Troublemaker Vs Troublemaker) $3
CH 211-215 (Graduation) $3