Magister Insanity

Entering the academy, I was immediately struck by the scale and elegance of the interior. The courtyard stretched wider than anything I had ever seen, paved with polished stones that reflected the dull, grey light filtering through the overcast sky above. Statues of legendary Blasphemers and historical figures stood in meticulous formation.

It almost seemed like those status were silently judging the worth of the newcomers.

The walls were lined with towering banners, each embroidered with the insignia of past generations and, inevitably, those who had failed. The sound of the gate closing echoed from behind.

"Impressive…" I muttered under my breath, taking in the architecture, the statues, and the sheer aura of the place. My heart, however, remained steady and calm as the black mountains.

The golden-haired youth walked a few steps ahead. He didn't glance back, yet I couldn't help but feel that his presence was… significant. Like some hidden thread of fate had woven our paths together at this precise moment.

That's highly unlikely.

Reluctantly, I adjusted my glasses and followed the steps of the golden-haired youth.

As we approached the main hall, the sheer size of the doors made the Gate of Mysteries look trivial in comparison. Carved from a single piece of obsidian, the doors were inlaid with runes that pulsed with a pale blue light.

Walking a few steps, a massive door was within view.

Creak! The doors swung open silently by itself.

Inside, the grandiose hall was spacious and had a nice scent, almost mesmerizing. Marble floors stretched endlessly, adorned with intricate patterns. The ceilings were impossibly high, arched like the vaults of a cathedral, with floating lights hovering in midair that bathed the room in a soft, ethereal glow.

Several hundred young men and women were gathered here. They were the Sleepless who, like me and the golden-haired youth, had the misfortune of being thrust into this world by the mysterious Voice.

Hmm… According to Inquisitor Olya, the academy administrators always seem particularly stressed by the logistics each year. It made sense. The Dreadspire summoned Sleepless at a chaotic, unpredictable pace. There was simply no way to organize orderly batches under such conditions.

That's why the atmosphere was so tense, including why the place was so packed. Some Sleepless had to wait for days or even months to be induced.

Glancing around, I studied the faces of the Sleepless inside the hall. A few beastforks and elves could be seen among them, along with several humans lingering nearby. No... "humans" wasn't quite right. Most of them had come from other dimensions, each with its own flow of time. More importantly, their biology and anatomy were slightly different from regular humans.

If I remembered correctly, Inquisitor Olya had referred to them as "Crossbloods."

After a minute or so, a few things became immediately apparent.

First of all, regardless of race, everyone seemed to have arrived prepared, carrying bags, suitcases, or other belongings, as if they had known in advance. Could it be that they had prior knowledge of the Spire? It didn't make any sense. I had thought the Murmur summoned people at random. Wouldn't those with foreknowledge have an unfair advantage over those who were pulled in unexpectedly?

The second thing that became apparent was the hierarchy, or at least the sense of it. Even among the gathered Sleepless, subtle differences marked the more experienced from the utterly greenhorns. Some moved with quiet confidence while the others fidgeted nervously, darting their eyes from here to there.

From what I was seeing, there seemed to be a rank in status that I didn't know about. And lastly...

Everyone's... fine!

No matter where I looked, even though they were only beginning their journey as Blasphemers, their presence was striking. Every one of them was handsome, charming, or beautiful, radiating an almost palpable vitality.

I was so jealous that I wanted to cry.

How could the world forget about this lost soul?

Surprisingly, compared to Inquisitor Olya, they all look relatively normal. Is this the vast difference between an Inquisitor and a Sleepless?

Trying to ward the negative thoughts, my mind wondered about the possibility of one day reaching the rank of Inquisitor and how much that would change me.

But the inevitable thought refused to stay buried for long.

— They all look so delicious!

"What? You received a Superior Legacy from the Murmur?!"

"What was your appraisal?"

"It was spectacular. And listen, I even managed to strangle a Fallen Hellion to its death!"

"Wow! That's incredible. As expected of the Great Lancer!"

Amid the chatter, my attention was eventually pulled toward a particular noise, or rather, a particular group of six. At their center stood a tall young man, roughly six feet in height.

He had spiky hair and a strikingly handsome face, though his eyes gleamed with a predatory sharpness. His build and posture betrayed the discipline of rigorous training, every line of his frame radiating strength. Yet the smug arrogance plastered across his face ruined any sense of dignity.

No matter how you looked at him, he resembled less a warrior and more a delinquent.

A shallow playboy.

To be honest, he was exactly the kind of person who rubbed me the wrong way.

I scowled.

What a show-off. Strangled a demon to death? Who exactly are you trying to fool? A child? That "fallen demon" was either already on its last breath, or you're lying through your teeth!

This was common sense.

Even if I didn't know much about the Soul Realm, I knew how tough demons were, especially those controlling a host through a seedling.

So why did it look like everyone was buying into his story?

Were they fools? No, that didn't seem to be the case.

Strange. Ordinary people didn't act like this. The only time someone behaved with such blind awe was when they happened, by some miracle, to meet their favorite celebrity.

…Celebrity?

Was that guy actually someone important?

I scanned the crowd until my eyes settled on a beastfolk with dog-like ears. Without a second thought, I walked over.

"Hey. Excuse me."

The boy jumped up in fright upon hearing my voice.

"Uh… y-yes? C-Can I help you?"

Why was he so scrawny? Never mind.

"Do you know who that person over there is?"

The moment the boy followed my finger, his whole body trembled, as if he'd just seen a ghost.

"Y-You… you really don't know who that is?"

"If I knew, would I be asking you?"

"I-I'm sorry. But…"

The beastfolk hesitated, eyes darting nervously before he finally forced the words out.

"His name is Lancer. He's an Imperial… from the Viper Clan."

I frowned.

"What's an Imperial?"

The boy's ears twitched as if even the question was dangerous. He leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Shh! Don't say that so loud. If anyone hears you asking that, you'll be marked immediately."

I raised an eyebrow. "Marked? For what... ignorance?"

His eyes darted around again, then back to me. He swallowed hard.

"An Imperial is someone from an Imperial Clan. And the Imperials Clans were created by the Primogenitors who first made contracts with the Murmur."

A bit surprised, I asked, "They made contact with the Murmur? How?"

"Nobody knows. But the gist of it is… they're more powerful than ordinary folk like me. Simply put, they're nobility and are completely untouchable. The Viper Clan especially… they're infamous for their venom, which is said to kill even a god! And that's their natural trait, not some Legacy Ability!"

Venom that could kill a god? Naturally, I was skeptical.

It sounded ridiculous, almost laughable… but at the same time, it made a twisted kind of sense.

Certainly, with that kind of ability, even someone utterly powerless could slay anything, even demons through poison. Perhaps there was some truth to Lancer's earlier claims.

Maybe he had exaggerated, but I didn't know the full story.

'How scary.'

I glanced back at the arrogant youth surrounded by admirers.

Everything clicked into place.

His arrogance, their blind praises, the way they hovered around him like flies. It wasn't admiration for his deeds, but worship of his status.

Which all the most made them pathetic in my eyes.

Look at this street rats. I bet if he told them to suck his dick, they'll gladly drop to their knees and rip down his pants. Make it sloppy too!

When I turned back, the beastfolk I'd been speaking with had already slipped away.

"Tch. Figures."

Just when things were getting interesting.

It seemed Imperials were too sensitive a topic to discuss openly. Which meant I'd have to dig deeper myself. The library would be the best place to start. I needed to gather information quickly.

Speaking of Imperials, the golden-haired youth from earlier was staring in a particular direction.

He was glaring at Lancer.

A moment later, he turned away and slipped deeper into the crowd.

— What's going on?

Have you ever felt like you were the only one left out, while everyone else already knew the truth?

That was exactly how I felt right now.

Being from Earth, there was no way I could fully grasp what was happening here. It wasn't like Soulverse Online had ever explained anything about the Soul Realm in detail.

Come to think of it… don't those two words mean the same thing?

'What a headache.'

Just why were Academies so stressful and complicated? It felt like I have aged quite considerably.

Noticing there was nothing to do and not willing to start a conversation, I moved to a quiet corner and patiently waited for the induction ceremony to start while warding off the noise.

† †

Soul Killer pushed open the door and entered Inquisitor Ivy's office. The older woman didn't look up, as if she had been waiting for her.

"You're late."

"There was something I had to do."

Rin glanced around the room, frowning at the absence of the person she had expected to see.

"He's already gone," Ivy said before she could ask.

"Gone? Where?"

"Where else would he go in this place?"

Rin disliked riddles. On another day, she might have let her sashimi knife press the answer out.

But Ivy wasn't someone to play games with. Rin knew her too well, and she understood exactly what the woman meant.

In Niflheim, there weren't many places a new Sleepless could go.

"I see. The academy, then. He wants to challenge the Murmur."

"You sound worried."

"Why would I be worried?"

"I should ask you that. Isn't this the first time you've cared about someone?"

That much was true. She wasn't the social type, and people avoided her wherever she went.

Frankly, she preferred it that way.

No connections meant no stress or expectations. Therefore, there was nothing to worry about.

…Still, she hesitated.

"It's nothing."

"Are you sure? You sound disappointed."

"Mind your business."

"Is it wrong to ask? Especially when you're acting weird. Wait… don't tell me." Ivy's eyes narrowed with amusement. "Ah, so that's it. You've finally reached the age where boys catch your eye. Don't worry, it's perfectly normal."

Rin scowled.

"I'm not a slut like you."

Ivy's lips curved, but her eyes hardened.

"My, my. Such a foul tongue. Careful... it might cut deeper than that little knife of yours."

"Bite me."

For a moment, silence pressed down on the room. The air trembled violently from the pressure of an Enlightened and an Inquisitor.

It seemed as though the entire building structure would collapse.

Then Ivy broke it with a soft laugh.

"Geez, why so tense today? Something's bothering you. Did you see something in that boy?"

Rin only shrugged. The Inquisitor was well aware of her 'condition.' Perhaps one of the only few who understood how exactly her eyes worked.

"Like I said, it's nothing. If there's nothing else, I'll be leaving."

Just like that, she was gone.

Outside, her mind lingered on the exchange, replaying Inquisitor's words in quiet echoes.

Why was she so drawn to that person?

It wasn't love at first sight, nor some reckless impulse of desire. She couldn't even justify it to herself. And yet, that young man carried something unusual: an enigmatic presence that tugged at her thoughts long after he was out of sight.

She couldn't ignore him.

After all, he was the one who had fallen from the sky.

Will I see it... if I meet him again?

…He was the only person who had ever made her doubt her own eyes.