Damn Academy

244 – City of Shadows (3)

There was a knock at the door, and the voice of a servant rang out.

“Mayor.”

“Come in.”

Mayor Arnobio was looking at the portraits on the wall of his office with his back to the door.

They depicted the faces of the Archmages who had ruled the continent in their respective eras.

The secretary entered and bowed.

“The Archmage’s disciple has accepted the invitation. He will arrive at the banquet hall within the hour.”

“I understand.”

“What you said earlier….”

“Let it proceed as is. I want to see that boy fight.”

“Acknowledged.”

The secretary bowed again and left, closing the door behind him.

Arnobio paced the length of his study, stopping before a portrait of a red-haired sorceress that hung at the far end.

Arnobio allowed a smirk to touch his lips as he gazed into the woman’s eyes.

“Eyes of the sun… Eyes of the sun…”

He unhooked the portrait from the wall and held it in his hands, running his fingers over the canvas as if caressing her hair.

“…You will soon be mine.”

***

A maid approached the carriage as it came to a halt at the appointed location and opened the door. She immediately inquired, “Are you Lord Demian?”

“…Yes, I have come at the behest of the lord mayor.”

“It is my great honor to personally escort you to Lord Demian. Please, allow me to guide you.”

Hailey shrugged at me, her expression questioning why she had not been addressed. I motioned for her to be patient. The maid continued to ignore Hailey.

We followed the maid up a winding staircase, her spine rigid and her hands clasped at her abdomen as she led the way.

“Who sent you? Are you under the lord mayor’s orders?”

“Oh, no. Lady Bastian, Lady Kellerway, Lady Darcy, Lady Orlando, and the Melonia twins have expressed great interest in Lord Demian, and I have been charged with bringing you to them on their behalf.”

“I have never met these women.”

“Lord Demian’s exploits have already become the talk of society. Many witnessed your bravery firsthand at the scene of the accident. Lady Bastian and Lady Orlando, in particular, have expressed a desire to meet you in person to express their gratitude for saving their lives.”

“….”

“Due to your remarkable elemental magic, Lord Demian, you have also been given the moniker ‘Prince of the North.’”

I had rescued a sailor who had fallen from a skyship bound for Priscilla, but I had never saved any noblewomen from falling. These ladies were simply embellishing the story.

Unable to hold back any longer, Hailey interjected, “Is there nothing to say about me?”

The maid hesitated. “Well… there are some things about you, miss…”

“Such as?”

“I apologize, but my memory is not the best, and I cannot recall everything.”

“Go on, it’s fine.”

The maid reluctantly spoke. “They call you the… golden virgin.”

“…?”

“Or, in more vulgar terms, the imperial wench.”

“How dare you speak of me in such a way when you know nothing about me…”

The maid attempted to salvage the situation with a compliment. “They usually only give such playful nicknames to very young and innocent girls.”

“Oh, how amusing.”

The end of the long, tunnel-like staircase was in sight. As the door opened and we stepped outside, we were met with the sight of the horizon ablaze in the fiery hues of sunset.

The intense light made it difficult to see, but the maid spoke with a hint of pride in her voice.

“This place is called the Sky Garden.”

Perhaps because it was so high up, we could see the sun setting over the horizon in this city of dense buildings.

On this top floor where we stood, a glass dome and a garden were cultivated. The shiny white stone floor, flowerbeds with flowers in full bloom, and gardeners were all neatly arranged.

Beyond the outer balcony, we could see the magnificent view of southwest Claridium at a glance. It was a luxurious playground built on a prime location.

The garden was already filled with nobles enjoying a banquet with drinks in their hands.

“Where is the lord?”

“He will come after the meeting is over. Until then, feel free to enjoy yourself.”

The attendant smiled and left.

Hailey looked around and said,

“It seems like the banquet was in full swing before we even arrived.”

A noble with three or four women on his shoulders was laughing greedily.

From a table hidden by a flowerbed, we could hear the voice of a man injecting a syringe.

“More drinks, more drinks!”

“Oh, baby, would you get worn out if I touch you a little?”

“Come on, sit on my lap.”

It was closer to an orgy than a decent noble’s banquet.

Middle-aged noblewomen were walking around with young knights, and young boy attendants were washing the feet of some women.

Hailey said,

“I know this place.”

“…?”

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I’ve experienced a place like this. I hate places like this.”

“It’s a place that doesn’t suit you at all.”

“This place is quite famous. The Sky Garden of Floria. It’s exactly like I saw in the illustrations. I heard that an old wizard spent his whole life cultivating it. He loved helping the poor, so he used the herbs grown here to help the poor, and he invited young children to teach them art here.”

“…Why did it become like this?”

“I don’t know.”

A noble with an unfocused gaze staggered past us. We could tell at a glance that he was not in his right mind.

Hailey swallowed nervously.

Women in revealing dresses with dark circles under their eyes were wandering around the garden.

“I’ve never seen

As we cross the center of the banquet hall, a few gazes follow us.

Whispers.

The nobles of Claridium have begun to dissect and consume us.

We stop before a plaster statue.

Oiled and slicked-back hair. Deep laugh lines and a neatly trimmed beard. A thin, pursed mouth. Prominent cheekbones. A middle-aged man who could be mistaken for a market peddler.

Below the statue is a plaque describing the figure. Prophet of Progress. Market-master of Claridium. Arnobius.

“So this is the Market-master who summoned us.”

“To have a statue of yourself in the center of your own garden, how narcissistic.”

“I wonder why we were invited.”

I feel foolish for expecting a peaceful and conversational dinner among the patrons.

Just then, an unwelcome guest approaches us.

“Hey, you, you!”

A rotund noble seizes Hayley’s shoulder. He slurs his words.

“Are… you the new serving wench?”

Hayley spins around and pushes his arm away with disgust.

“Who are you?”

“Coo-coo-caw!”

The man hacks up phlegm and spits it into a glass he was holding, then extends it to me. It is clear that he mistakes me for a servant, not an insult.

“Whore… such a sharp tongue.”

“You are being extremely rude to a formally invited guest.”

The man laughs drunkenly, swaying back and forth.

“Nonsense… you, you there. You know who I was drinking with earlier? That man. You, you, you.”

He taps Hayley’s forehead with his index finger.

“He said you interest him. Pretty face… he said. Have this dog take you away and service Marcus the Third. Just this once….”

I grab the noble by the scruff of his neck.

The banquet hall erupts into a frenzy.

“Be silent. One more word from you and….”

“What will you do, whelp?”

“I will rip your tongue out, and the tongue of the man you serve.”

As I raise my fist to strike, Priscilla shivers. Frost begins to creep up my arm and onto the man’s face.

“W-w-what is this!”

The frost encases his throat and mouth.

“Gah! Gah!”

He flails his arms. I release him and he stumbles away, clawing at his face.

These are hardly the refined elite. Are all of these people guests of the Market-master?

How far has this city fallen?

I look around the room. The onlookers are terrified. They part ways as if I were a predator. They do not wish to get involved. Hayley whispers behind me.

“It seems we have offended someone we should not have.”

A young man approaches and exclaims.

“Magic, it’s magic!”

“….”

“Aren’t you the hero who saved the Sky Ark?”

The onlookers spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear. Only then did the gazes directed at us become somewhat friendlier.

“Yes, I am. I find it rather unpleasant to be treated so rudely after having been invited here as a guest.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ll apologize on behalf of that gentleman for his rudeness.”

The man greeted us and then lowered his voice so that only we could hear.

“Lady Bastien is waiting for Sir Damian.”

***

When I stepped out onto the balcony, I noticed a noblewoman standing with a servant in tow.

She was a middle-aged woman with a round, braided hairstyle, wearing a dress of a brownish hue adorned with abundant lace.

The spacious balcony, wide enough for three or four carriages to pass through, was deserted.

All that was in sight was the noblewoman and a chest covered in a veil that was taller than a person.

She had been leaning against the railing but turned around when she heard our voices.

“You must be Sir Damian. The rumors circulating about you do not seem to be exaggerated.”

“I heard you were looking for me.”

“This is a good place for a confidential conversation. Don’t you think?”

“The view is nice. The air is fresh. I wonder why you don’t come out here more often, as it’s much better than indoors.”

“I’m too terrified because of that thing over there.”

Lady Bastien gestured toward the chest covered with a veil.

“What is that?”

“It’s a cage that holds a demon. It’s the new favorite pastime of the Claridium nobles, inviting gladiators to fight the demon.”

“That’s madness.”

“You’re not so innocent yourself. You beat up the right-hand man of the city’s biggest hoodlum.”