Magister Insanity

Brynlee felt a little uneasy. After all, it wasn't every day that she found herself… spying on someone. Well, "spying" might be too strong a word and dramatic, perhaps.

Still, one of the new regulars had definitely caught her attention.

His name was Sonny Crow. She only knew it because everyone who entered the library had to sign in, and sign out whenever they want to leave.

Apparently, he'd mentioned that her good friend Ivy had recommended he come. Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't be enough to hold her focus. But given the nature of her Legacy, her mind inevitably drifted down that path.

Was he sent here because of… "that"?

It was the sort of thing her Legacy practically forced her to do. Or maybe it was the curse of her Legacy that made her do such things. Not that she minded. Sometimes, she even enjoyed it. But usually, she kept such acts outside the academy's premises, especially not with students. So what was that damn woman thinking, sending someone into her personal workspace?

'Maybe I'm imagining it.'

With that thought, Brynlee massaged her temple, trying to push it aside.

Why was she even thinking that? Perhaps she had grown too lustful, or maybe the deadline for her curse was drawing near. It was almost certainly the latter, leaving her on edge.

The librarian sighed.

Why did she have to be burdened with a curse like that?

Creak!

'Speak of the devil…'

Brynlee lifted her head and noticed Sonny entering the library once again from her position. His hair was a deep, midnight blue, reminiscent of a starless night, but his eyes told a different story like the depths of an unfathomable ocean. There was a certain presence about him that made him stand out, even when he wasn't the most handsome or beautiful among the races she had encountered.

He was dressed neatly: a black tailored jacket over a simple white shirt, a loosely fastened tie around his neck, and matching pants. The outfit was understated, almost plain, but somehow it added to the air of mystery surrounding him, complementing the quiet intensity of his features.

Her pulse quickened slightly, but within a second, she managed to regain her composure.

The outworlder approached, glanced around the library, and then greeted her.

"Good afternoon."

Brynlee returned the greeting. "Good afternoon. Is there anything I can help you with today?"

"Yes," Sonny nodded, then continued after a brief pause. "Do you have a map of the academy or its layout? Also, I would like a book that explains the layout of the Eldergrove."

'Huh?'

Brynlee tilted her head in confusion.

Eldergrove — the territory of demonic beasts. Most Blasphemers usually ventured into those dangerous regions to uncover the secrets buried within. Of course, as a land of demons, all kinds of monstrous creatures made their home there, including those of higher hierarchy. The most dreadful abominations, however, resided deep within the Eldergrove.

Sleepless typically hunted near the outskirts, targeting the bottom feeders to obtain void shards. Brynlee could understand why he would want to study the layout of that territory. It showed his intelligence and caution in observing one's environment.

What she couldn't understand was why he would need a map of the academy itself.

'Is he planning something? Why do I have the feeling he's up to no good?' Brynlee paused, noticing a detail that unsettled her. 'Come to think of it… he isn't wearing his glasses today.'

Upon closer inspection, his eyes seemed different, more... soulless. Normally, they were void-like and lifeless, yet held a faint spark of light. Now, all she saw was a primordial darkness swirling within his irises, pierced by a crimson glint. They were almost.. predatory, like the eyes of a chained beast.

It was scary, unnervingly so.

'Huh?'

Brynlee blinked a few times.

She had become an Enlightened several years ago. Why would she be afraid of an ordinary Sleepless? Most likely, he was simply unwell.

Going against the laws of nature didn't mean one was immune to sickness.

Reaching that conclusion, her expression softened as she asked,

"Hey… you don't look so well."

"Was it that obvious?" Sonny muttered, feigning surprise. He chuckled softly, then added, "Well… I suppose it can't be helped. Honestly, I've been feeling quite sickly these past few days. Perhaps it's because of my insatiable hunger. I tried the food the maids prepared with all their heart, yet nothing seems to fill this void. But you… you look rather delicious yourself. Would you allow me to take a bite?"

Brynlee froze at his words.

Delicious? What did he mean by that? Surely, he couldn't be talking about… that, right? Her mind raced at the seemingly flirtatious comment.

If she truly understood the meaning behind his words, she would have paled in terror.

Trying her hardest not to brush, the succubus-like bat woman cleared her throat and said:

"I… see. Well, perhaps some rest and proper nutrition would help. But here's a bit of friendly advice: please be mindful of what you say. Words spoken at the wrong time can easily be misunderstood. Girls are sensitive, you know. Saying something like that carelessly can have… unintended effects."

"Eh? W-Wha..." Sonny stammered, clearly taken aback.

"Also, the books you're looking for are located at the far end of the library," Brynlee continued, gesturing toward a secluded section near the back. "The maps are on the top shelf, while the Eldergrove volumes are arranged by region. Be careful handling them, they tend to be fragile."

Sonny opened and closed his mouth several times, as if struggling to say something. Then he frowned, a brief flash of displeasure crossing his face. With a soft sigh, he muttered, "Thank you," before turning and walking away.

What a strange fellow.

Brynlee let her gaze linger on his retreating figure for a few moments, then pushed the thought to the back of her mind and returned to the book before her.

Its title was [Velvet Chains of Crimson1].

† †

A week had passed.

Only three weeks remained. By my count, that left exactly twenty-one days before the appearance of the Prism Pool.

During this time, I had done nothing but prepare. Of course, I still attended my courses. I couldn't afford to fall behind. At the same time, I frequented the library to study the terrain, memorizing the academy's layout and mapping the Eldergrove to refine my tactics for the so-called assassination attempt.

After all, what if something went wrong and I needed to make a quick escape?

Needless to say, I was completely lacking in combat experience. The only real attempt I had made was that one time I tried to punch that parasitic human and you already know how well that turned out, so there's no need to elaborate.

Some would say, "But aren't you stronger now?"

Yes, I was. But what good was raw power if I had no experience and no idea what I was doing?

My target was someone who had likely spent years developing both skill and ability. No matter what people said, a Lesser Clan was still an Imperial Clan, even if they were lacking in status or influence.

Who the hell was I in the face of such powerhouses?

And of course, some would ask, "Then why not target someone else?"

Do you think I haven't considered that? I have... obsessively, for seven whole days! In fact, it's been the only thing occupying my mind this entire time.

Following the events of the Old Great War, the races had entered a tenuous treaty. This meant that if I hypothetically slayed an elf (curse those bastards) or a beastfolk, it could spark a war. I'm just trying to survive here, not start one.

Besides, acting recklessly would only backfire later. The same could be said for what I'm planning. Damnit, everything was so complicated that I sometimes wondered if I was losing my mind.

Maybe I am.

Still, things had been going relatively smoothly. The librarian seemed to sense that something was off, giving me strange looks from time to time, perhaps it was just my imagination. Thankfully, she hadn't said anything and maintained her usual indifference.

Meanwhile, I had been spying on my priority targets using shadow, gathering a wealth of useful information. Apparently, the atmosphere among Lancer's lackeys was tense. Lancer treated them like dirt, and they couldn't voice any complaints. One of them even suspected Lancer of screwing his girlfriend, since she had started acting cold toward him.

I wondered how Lancer had anything to do with that.

No. Scratch that, he looked like the type of person who would sleep with your girlfriend and brag about it in your face. A real son of a bitch.

Simply put, the situation was like this: the lackeys were envious of Lancer, and their frustration was growing at an alarming rate with each day. Zephyr, in particular, often frequented the outskirts of the Eldergrove to vent his aggression on small, helpless terrors.

This was an advantageous position for me. If I took him out within the demonic beasts' territory, no one would suspect my involvement. They'd assume he'd fallen victim to some unpredictable horror, maybe even send a few search parties to retrieve his body. Meanwhile, I could methodically eliminate the others at my own pace.

But several things could go wrong. Zephyr could manipulate the wind to increase his agility and escape.

And a direct confrontation would almost certainly end in my demise.

It was basically impossible to predict a wind manipulator even if they were on the lower end of the sequence. He could change direction mid-stride, accelerate instantly, or use gusts to obscure my vision. Even the smallest misstep could send me sprawling across the forest floor, leaving me completely exposed.

Not to mention, his agility wasn't the only danger. Zephyr could attack from a distance without ever letting me get close, slicing through trees or creating sharp wind currents capable of cutting through armor. A direct confrontation would almost certainly be fatal, and even attempting to corner him would be a gamble I might not survive.

So yes, a direct confrontation was not worth the risk.

But who ever said anything about fighting him directly?

An explicit story about two guys.