Magister Insanity

For the next five days, aside from my survival and rune classes, I spent my time spying on the remaining priority targets: Kael and Xyler.

Slowly, patterns began to emerge in their movements.

It was inevitable.

The runes hadn't lied about the Soul Devouring Shadow carrying an unrelenting hunger. I'd hoped consuming Zephyr's soul would buy me a short reprieve before I had to consider taking another life.

But, as with so many things in my life, there was no reprieve.

The shadow's hunger grew with each passing day, and the familiar hollow in my stomach returned. It was a warning: if I didn't kill again soon, the hunger would swell until the shadow seized control completely and the thought of that moment made my skin crawl.

I needed to act fast.

By my calculations, I had roughly two days before the shadow's hunger reached [80%]. Beyond that threshold, I would start to lose control, a prospect confirmed by past experiences, and needless to say, not one I found appealing.

It was already difficult enough to keep the shadow in check. If its hunger turned ravenous, what would stop it from lashing out at anyone indiscriminately?

Thankfully, my efforts haven't been unrewarded.

The priority targets' routines were simple: attend the Sleepless combat class, then spend the rest of the day idle. At first, I doubted that could really be their entire schedule, but continued observation proved otherwise.

Their arrogance made my lip curl in disdain.

How could you hope to survive from just the combat class? What about survival tactics like making a fire, studying the environment and more important of all, finding food in a foreign terrain?

But what was I expecting? Such people especially the Imperials were raised in the art of combat and as such, they would only show interest there. Perhaps what I was learning in the survival courses was something that their respective clans had taught them from a young age so it would make sense why they would treat the course with disregard.

That was the only realistic and reasonable explanation I could think of. And it seemed quite plausible as well.

Tsk. How lucky.

While watching them, I noticed something odd: around nightfall they would simply vanish. Not figuratively, vanish. Whenever the shadow tracked them, it would follow a peculiar route through the school grounds and then abruptly lose their trail.

Maybe they'd found a way to slip off campus and into the main city of Niflheim. I tried sending the shadow beyond the gates to follow them.

That's when I discovered a glaring flaw in the shadow.

It couldn't travel far from me.

The first time I pushed it past the school limits, an unbearable pain shot through my chest as if I were being stricken by a violent stroke or a crushing blow. The agony nearly buckled my knees and forced me to yank the shadow back.

I was quite dumbfounded when it happened.

At first, there was no indication about why that painful sensation suddenly erupted. But after a few experiments here and there, I finally came to an understanding.

Under normal circumstances, an Origin Sea was the anchor that kept the Soul, Body and Psyche aligned. Well, that was until the shadow consumed it and became my anchor in its place.

In other words, the entity was the sole thread tethering me to life.

If the shadow strayed too far, I would die with it. If it succumbed to hunger, I would be devoured. If it was destroyed, so too would I fall.

That, in essence, was the grim summary of my peculiar condition.

Trying not to think about it was the only sensible choice in that moment. If I let my thoughts linger, depression would settle in — as if I weren't already hollow — and guilt would come crawling after.

Guilt was the last thing I needed. I needed to be a killer: silent, ruthless and unforgiving as the shadows.

So I sealed my emotions as tightly as I could.

After a while, the plan slipped into motion and the target fell within my sights.

Kael slipped out of the dining hall and into the kitchen; the door's faint creak was barely audible.

Crouched behind a row of chairs, I signaled the shadow forward. Once it slipped through the kitchen doorway, I waited a few heartbeats before moving in cautiously.

By the time I entered, the priority target was already gone. Expected as much, but still inconvenient. I trained my attention on the kitchen door and frowned as I followed the trail it suggested.

"Wouldn't this lead to the sanctuary grounds? Strange. If he wanted to leave campus, why not use the front gate?"

Curiosity prickled at the back of my neck. I sent the shadow through the door and, after a few tense moments to ensure the coast was clear, I eased the door open and slipped out.

† †

Outside, the soft glow of the lonely moon filled my vision. The night wind swept across my skin, lifting stray strands of hair in its passing. As I scanned the grounds bathed in that ethereal light, I caught sight of my shadow waving to me from behind a cluster of flower beds.

The sanctuary grounds were located on the far side of the academy, just beyond the central courtyard. It was a place that, under ordinary circumstances, was considered sacred, a zone of silence and prayer, maintained by the academy's priests and healers. Most religious fellows only came here during the day. At night, it should have been deserted.

Even then…

The faint traces of footprints in the soft earth told me otherwise. They weren't random, either.

Following the trail, I soon spotted Kael standing before a tall hedge wall. He glanced left, then right, ensuring no one was watching. Satisfied, he pressed his hand against the greenery.

There was no resistance. No sound. He simply slipped through as if the hedge itself were nothing more than an illusion.

My eyes narrowed. A hidden passage?

For a moment, my mind scrambled through possibilities.

Did they carve out part of the wall and disguise it with sorcery? No… those fools wouldn't risk damaging academy property. That would draw too much attention.

I crouched lower behind the bushes and continued my analysis.

More likely, they've crafted a gateway and linked it to somewhere outside the academy's boundaries.

No wonder my shadow frequently lost track of them. Gateways belonged to the Spell category of sorcery.

Spells were similar to Runes, yet fundamentally different. If Runes revolved around the concept of directness, then Spells revolved around indirectness. To put it simply, Sorcery had been created by the untalented as a means to replicate the Mysteries of the Gods. Where Runes drew upon the divine language to achieve results, Spells relied upon the concept of Idol Theory.

In other words, they functioned through imitation and belief.

By reproducing a whole or a fragment of a source, one could inherit the properties and attributes tied to that source. Objects and events carried symbolic meanings and latent power, and through imitation, alteration, or amplification of those symbols, it became possible to draw upon that power and manifest it in the present.

For example, something as trivial as a pen could inherit the strength of a sword if the correct symbolic framework was imposed upon it. By engraving a sigil of war, reciting verses tied to the concept of steel, and treating the pen as if it were a blade, one could manifest a cutting edge capable of rending flesh and bone.

How was this possible?

Honestly, I didn't know. Most people spent their entire lives studying this path of Sorcery, so it was only natural that I couldn't grasp it in full.

At least now I understood why Inquisitor Ivy had warned me against pursuing Spellcraft. It was simply too convoluted!

Even so, those young fellows had clearly made use of a Spell to construct a gateway.

Cautiously, I pressed my weight against the foliage to test it. To my surprise, I slipped through without resistance and emerged somewhere within Niflheim.

To be precise: a back alley.

Interesting. So this is possible with magic. No, it's called Sorcery here. On earth, it would be magic. In any case, this is too refined for an ordinary Sleepless to pull off on their own. Was it really their handwork, or had one of the instructors forged this fracture for them?

No… that didn't add up.

Why would an Instructor run an errand for a junior?

I shook my head, forcing the thought aside, and refocused on the objective.

The alley smelled of damp stone and faint rot. A lone lantern flickered at the far end, its pale glow barely cutting through the darkness.

Moving closer, a noise following a steady rhythm entered my ears.

Footsteps.

There was no need to identify who they belonged to. And along with Kael's, there was another set of footsteps. Likely Xyler. Their voices were low, but the cadence suggested familiarity.

So they rendezvoused here at night. A secret meeting point outside the academy grounds.

But why?

After several minutes, their hushed discussion came to an end. Kael and Xyler slipped out of the narrow alley, stepping into the street.

The shadow stirred restlessly, urging me forward.

It wanted blood.

Clenching my jaw, I pulled it back under control, following in silence with calculated steps.