The World of this Fantasy Novel is in Crisis

Cain scoffed at Satin’s words. But Satin knew the future.

It wouldn’t be long before the Temple Knights arrived to rescue Cain. Well—strictly speaking, they wouldn’t be coming just for Cain, but to save all the children here. Still, Cain would be saved along with them.

‘But for that to happen, the teacher needs to be the villain first.’

Satin recalled what Rogers had said earlier.

The other kids were envious of Satin. They all ate together, slept in the same dorms, and studied side by side—but only Satin was the teacher’s real disciple. Cain might disagree, but that’s what the children believed.

‘So it’s because he’s the real disciple that Satin’s the only one out for revenge?’

Even the most wicked dark mage could’ve been a good person to someone.

Suddenly, he was curious. What exactly made dark mages so different from ordinary mages that the Temple Knights saw fit to execute their teacher?

“Why are you staring like that?”

Cain snapped gruffly, assuming Satin was glaring at him while lost in thought.

Cain, twenty in the story, was described as having a rather solid build—but in this moment, he seemed quite ordinary. He was even a little shorter than Satin. From below, glaring up, his eyes naturally sharpened.

Without thinking, Satin said aloud:

“You kind of look like a kitten now that I see you.”

“…What?”

“Ah, sorry. Got lost in thought for a second.”

“…You really are out of your damn mind.”

Fuming, Cain stomped off and exited the library.

Feeling a bit sheepish, Satin glanced around the room to make sure no one had overheard their exchange. Thankfully, they were alone.

‘Maybe I should’ve said caracal instead.’

***

“Lurking around hoping for a snack, are we, Cain?”

As he passed the kitchen, the shaggy Rufus called out. Cain shot back a snappy, “Don’t need anything,” and stormed across the corridor. Laughter rang from beyond the open front door—innocent giggles from kids playing outside in the lobby.

‘Kitten? What a load of crap.’

Just remembering what Satin had said made Cain’s face flush. Not from embarrassment—he was burning with indignation.

Satin really had gone insane. Even just looking at his neatly made bed proved he wasn’t the same person anymore. He used to be a mess—his bed, his desk, nothing was ever in order. Now, it was like he’d turned into someone else entirely.

Cain had overheard bits and pieces of the kids’ conversations. So he had some vague idea that something had happened to Satin.

‘He lost his memory?’

Even as he listened to the conversation between Rogers and Satin outside, he couldn’t fully shake his suspicions. This guy who strutted around like he was the disciple of that deranged old man—surely he was just playing some twisted game.

From the moment Cain had arrived here, Satin hadn’t liked him. The kids thought it was a one-sided grudge—Cain hating Satin—but the truth was a little different. Satin hated Cain too.

Cain knew why: Satin saw him as a rival.

Rogers assumed their teacher—that mad old man—had chosen Satin as his disciple. But that was wrong. Cain remembered exactly what that lunatic had said when they first met.

‘You’ve got potential.’

Back then, he hadn’t understood what it meant. It was only after spending some time here that it became clear.

The children brought here were always around twelve or thirteen. Rogers was fourteen now, but Cain had heard he’d been here over a year already—so he must’ve been twelve or thirteen when he arrived.

There were rules to who the old man brought in. They had to be young—but not so young that they couldn’t understand speech. They had to be obedient, but not especially clever. And they needed to have nowhere else to go.

In short, the old man preferred kids who were easy to control.

Cain didn’t meet a single one of those conditions. He was already sixteen, not especially obedient, and while he had no family to rely on, he did have a group he ran with on the streets.

And yet, he ended up here.

He’d tried to pickpocket the wrong guy—unaware that the crazy old man was a mage.

‘Should’ve done a better background check.’

Cain had always been meticulous. He chose his targets carefully. But that old man had looked so pathetic that Cain went after him without thinking—and this was the result.

‘I’m never making that mistake again.’

In trying to stay quiet and out of trouble to figure out what the crazy old man was plotting, Cain kept finding his eyes drawn to Satin.

Satin was similar to Cain in many ways. He was older than the other kids, pretended to be obedient, but every now and then his sly nature slipped through. When that ever-present smile faded, his expression turned disturbingly cold.

A snake, that bastard.

The other kids hadn’t noticed that dual nature—but there was no way the old man hadn’t. Whatever Satin’s personality, he must’ve been brought here because the old man saw some use in him. Maybe, in fact, that temperament made him more useful.

Could it be that Satin was brought here for a different reason than the rest? With that suspicion, Cain naturally began to understand the real reason he’d been brought here, too.

The “potential” the old man spoke of referred to magical aptitude. Maybe Cain was meant to be Satin’s replacement.

He hadn’t uncovered anything definitive yet, but he was certain of one thing: the crazy old man was up to something—and whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“Ah—Cain!”

Tim came bounding down the stairs, called out, and then seemed startled by his own voice. Cain was about to walk right past him, then paused.

“Hey, mouse.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Tim puffed up in protest, glaring at him—but it didn’t even register as a threat. If anything, it made him look even more like a rat.

‘Just like a mouse cornered by a cat.’

Cain let out a snort of amusement—then immediately felt annoyed. Satin’s words earlier had resurfaced. His face instinctively twisted into a scowl, and Tim, mistaking the reaction as anger, shrank back a bit and glanced up warily.

“Why’d you call me, anyway…?”

“Where were you last night?”

“Huh? What’re you talking about?”

Tim’s eyes darted around as he feigned ignorance.

“You went out last night. I saw you.”

That was a lie. Cain hadn’t seen anything. He’d only heard the sound of a door opening. Sensitive to such things, he could tell immediately it came from the room in front of his.

Someone had left—but he couldn’t tell who. The soft, solitary footsteps suggested one person.

That room belonged to Tim and Robin. Cain had casually asked Robin over breakfast and got a genuinely confused response. Which meant, by process of elimination, the one who left had to be Tim.

“I—I was going to the bathroom…”

“Don’t lie. You didn’t even go down the stairs.”

The bathroom, washroom, and baths were all on the first floor. And if he had just gone to another kid’s room, there would’ve been no reason to lie—so it was obvious where he’d gone.

“You went to the teacher, didn’t you?”

Cain asked, voice laced with certainty. Tim couldn’t respond—his gaze dropped to the floor. His face, usually tanned from playing outside, turned pale.

“Why’d you go?”

“I… I had something to ask…”

“In the middle of the night?”

“I mean, sometimes… when you’re curious… you ask right away…”

He spouted a half-baked excuse, grasping at anything.

“The teacher didn’t call you, then?”

Tim’s head snapped up in surprise. He was still too young to know how to hide his reactions. Which made sense—after all, the crazy old man had deliberately chosen kids like that.

Cain glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot. Tim, now looking nervous, followed his lead.

“Hey, mouse. You know Satin lost his memories, right?”

“Yeah…”

“So, from the teacher’s point of view, don’t you think he’d want a new disciple?”

Tim didn’t answer, just watched Cain cautiously, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

Feigning friendliness, Cain rested a hand on Tim’s shoulder. Not that he expected Tim to take it as a kind gesture. Every kid here was at least a little scared of Cain. Maybe they sensed on some instinctual level that he was different from them.

“Right? There’s no way that clueless Satin could actually help the teacher with anything.”

“Yeah…”

“So the teacher called for you, didn’t he?”

“…Something like that.”

“What’d you help him with?”

Tim opened his mouth—then closed it again. Cain gave a crooked smile.

“I don’t care about becoming a mage. I just can’t stand Satin.”

His whisper made Tim glance up uncertainly, then swallow hard. His Adam’s apple hadn’t even started to form yet, but his throat bobbed slightly.

“I think it’d be way better if you became the teacher’s disciple instead of Satin.”

That was a lie. Cain couldn’t care less who became that lunatic’s disciple. He was only interested in what the old man was doing in that laboratory of his.

Tim hesitated before mumbling,

“I—I like Satin too, though… He’s always been nice to me…”

Kids.

Tim still didn’t realize that the eyes Satin turned on him with a gentle smile were cold as a snake’s. Whether it was before or after losing his memory, that part had never changed. That unreadable expression, never betraying what was going on inside, often unsettled Cain.

Of course, Cain never let those thoughts show.

“What does it matter? You’re just doing what Satin can’t anymore, that’s all.”

“…Is that so?”

“So tell me—do you think the teacher’s going to take you on as his new disciple?”

Tim hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. Though they had already confirmed there was no one nearby, he still looked around once more before leaning in and whispering:

“The teacher said he discovered a new formula, and he needs my help to use it.”

“What kind of formula?”

Highly suspicious. Discovering a magical formula meant the spell itself was already known—so naturally, he’d say he discovered it. But if that was the case, why would he suddenly need help now?

Tim shrugged.

“I dunno. He said it still needs to be tested.”

“Hm.”

“But this is a secret, okay? Don’t tell anyone. What if things get weird between me and Satin…”

Worried, Tim kept repeating the plea. Cain nodded as if he understood.

“You should get going.”

“Huh?”

“Go play.”

“…Okay.”

Tim glanced at him uncertainly, then ran down the stairs.

Cain rubbed his chin as he headed up to the second floor.

‘What exactly does he mean by testing a new formula…?’