Chapter 392

“Here we are!”

We followed Yuri back to the monastery school’s dormitory and, true to his word, were given the room next to his. The moment he pulled back the curtains, orange sunlight that had turned the room hazy poured in, outlining the dust drifting through the air. Yuri threw the window wide open, letting the cold air from outside rush in.

“Oh, would you prefer separate rooms?”

“That’d be—”

“We’ll only be here for a little while. This is fine.”

I cut Mecklenburg off and answered for us.

The room was small and old, but thanks to Yuri’s quick tidying, it looked neat enough. I took a slow look around before my gaze settled on Yuri as he hurried about putting things in order. Eleven-year-old Yuri Alekseyev looked to be around 155 cm tall now. And this kid would manage to add another 35 to 40 cm over the span of seven years.

‘Hm…’

He really did grow fast. I closed my eyes, pushing the thought away. Let’s not dwell on it. No matter how much a human had stretched vertically, it wasn’t this specimen’s fault, was it?

While I was thinking, Yuri arranged a few white cosmos and daisies he’d picked outside in an empty vase. The stems had already started to droop, probably from being held for so long. While neither Yuri nor Mecklenburg was paying attention, I brushed my fingertips over the petals and quietly let a trace of divine power flow into them.

After tucking our luggage beneath the bed, Yuri turned to us with an excited smile.

“Dinner’s in two hours. You should get some rest until then!”

“We will.”

I answered with a smile. Yuri grinned back before leaving the room.

Creak— Slam.

Now only Mecklenburg and I were left. I dropped onto the bed, closed my eyes, and turned my head toward the window, breathing in the breeze drifting inside—a wind that already carried more of winter than autumn. But then I opened my eyes again, bothered by the pressure and bleakness lingering in the air, and looked at Mecklenburg. He had been staring at me with narrowed eyes. The moment our gazes met, he quickly looked away. Seeing that familiar sullen look, I shrugged.

“You should get some rest too. We’ve got a little time.”

“…….”

I pulled out the pretzel I’d bought on the train, bit into it, and flopped facedown onto the bed. Compared to what I was used to, both the bed and the pretzel felt like rocks. The blanket was so thin I doubted it’d keep out the cold. Chewing the pretzel felt almost like chewing paper. I broke it in half and held one piece up.

“Want half?”

“…….”

For some reason, Mecklenburg simply walked out of the room.

Once he was gone, I sat up, took out my notebook, and started writing down everything I’d learned. If I wanted to remember it longer—and more accurately—I had to write it down. Just like anyone else would do. I stood my enchanted fountain pen on the page and nudged it forward with a glance. The pen began writing down my thoughts on its own.

About five minutes later—

Creak—

Mecklenburg came back in. He swallowed, startled when he saw me, then quickly acted as though nothing had happened and headed toward his own bed.

“Couldn’t find anywhere else to go?”

“…Where would I go? It’s not like I have anywhere.”

“Exactly. That’s why I wondered where you’d wandered off to.”

He ignored my comment and lingered around his bed instead. I lost interest, grabbed the pen, and started writing by hand. Even ten minutes later, Mecklenburg still hadn’t sat down. He just paced around the room. Whenever our eyes met, he’d either force an awkward smile or quickly look away.

Tap.

“Albert.”

“…….”

“Sit down already. You’re making me restless.”

I closed my notebook and spoke calmly. A strange look of disillusionment crossed his face. He’s projecting someone onto me again. I almost laughed, but I didn’t even have the energy anymore. Even when my hair was black—hell, even back when we’d only known each other as senior and junior—he’d been seeing someone else whenever he looked at me.

“You hate being around me that much?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Funny. I feel the same, asshole.”

I shot back before taking a breath and composing myself.

“Albert. Is that the kind of thing your friend would’ve said to you?”

“No. Not even close.”

“Exactly. I don’t know why you’re so on guard around him, but I’m not him. Sit down already. I’ll be heading back out in a bit anyway.”

“…….”

Without looking me in the eye, Mecklenburg gave a small nod. He wasn’t completely at ease yet, but at least some of the tension seemed to have left him. I turned my attention back to my notebook. Or at least, I tried to.

He kept pacing between his bed and desk, constantly glancing my way.

“Hey. Just sit down already.”

“…! Hang on. Actually…”

“Actually what?”

“There’s something I haven’t told you. You’re a problem too… well, you were a problem. But there’s another problem.”

Then spit it out already. I narrowed my eyes and rested my chin on my hand.

“The train gave us first-class cabins. We each had our own freshly laundered bed. Even the dry restroom was beautifully decorated in a Middle Eastern style. I swear it smelled like lemon and cypress. Maybe it was the eucalyptus tucked in the corner keeping the air fresh. I still remember those Persian tassels hanging from the shelf.”

“You should’ve ripped the bathroom car off and brought it with you. What’ve you been doing all this time?”

“The train was that clean! But listen, Lukas. I can’t spend the night in a place like this. Dust was flying everywhere! You saw it, didn’t you?! There’s no call bell, no Do Not Disturb sign on the door, not even a housekeeper! I’m not saying I expected wine in a monastery, but at the very least the bedding—if it’s been washed—it should be folded like this! Like this! This is how it’s supposed to look!”

“Why stop there? Go ask where the amenities are too, you lunatic.”

“What did you say?”

“Oops. My bad.”

I brushed it off and flopped onto the bed. Meanwhile, Mecklenburg continued rummaging through the room, complaining the whole time.

“Damn it, this table’s so old it’s split all over. Places like this are perfect for mold to grow. My nose is already starting to itch. This won’t do. And these blankets don’t even smell like detergent. How am I supposed to know when they were last washed? There’s not even a sofa!”

“Then move out. Go live with the rabbits over there. Throw some straw down and sleep in their pen. They’ve got plenty of hay.”

“…What am I supposed to do now?”

“Come here. I’ll lie on your bed first and sweep up all the germs.”

“What? Idiot. That’ll just double them. You might take the dust mites with you, though.”

“Then quit whining and lie down.”

Ignoring me, he pulled out a green velvet handkerchief embroidered with the Mecklenburg-Strelitz family crest and spread it over the bed. The sight was so ridiculous I couldn’t help laughing.

“Hahaha… Seriously, then how did you sit down in front of the monk earlier?”

“That was a wooden chair! That’s completely different from fabric. Besides, something people use every day is bound to be kept clean.”

“You saw the state of this place and still think they’re wiping the chairs down every day? If anything, those probably have even more people’s hands on them. You’re the idiot. This isn’t some mansion staffed with servants.”

“…….”

He thought it over for a moment before reluctantly nodding as if that made sense. Before he could point out that I was making assumptions, I quickly added, “The point isn’t how many germs there are. It’s all in your head. You saw dust flying around, so now you’re overreacting. Unless you’re planning to carry a microscope around and inspect everything, just let it go.”

It really was an overreaction. Places he considered “properly aristocratic” never got this sort of response out of him. The first-class train carriage, for example. Mecklenburg narrowed his eyes, clicked his tongue, and muttered, “…More importantly, what now? We’ve found the kid. Shouldn’t we be doing something?”

Since he was changing the subject, I figured he’d either gotten over it, or was trying to bury it. Resting my chin on my hand, I asked, “So you’re not scared of me anymore?”

Mecklenburg, who had gone stiff at my question, put on the same gentle smile he always wore around other people.

“Since when was I scared of you?”

“You still won’t even look at me, and you’re saying—”

“…….”

He blinked rapidly and fell silent. Judging by the look on his face, he seemed to feel guilty about seeing someone else in me. In a voice that barely came out, he muttered, “…Then say something annoying.”

“Ah, thanks. Sorry, but that red hair looks absolutely terrible on you. Be grateful for your real hair color.”

“You…!”

Green mana sparked from his clenched fist, and I smothered it with my own. Then I caught a lock of my hair, now hanging past my eyes, glanced at its color, and asked, “It suits me, though, doesn’t it?”

“What, are you that narcissistic?”

“I’m asking what you think.”

It was a little darker than this, but I’d spent a long time as a blond in Bavaria. I smiled, only half joking, and looked at him with genuine curiosity. Mecklenburg kept his lips tightly pressed together. He stared not at me, but specifically at my face, before answering stubbornly, “No. Not at all. It doesn’t suit you. Keep your hair black for the rest of your life.”

Turning his head away, he added quietly, “That’s more like you.”

“…….”

It wasn’t that black hair was “more like me.” It was that the image he had of his friend Lukas Müller kept being blurred by Adrian Askanien. Though I doubted he even considered me a friend to begin with.

None of my other friends had ever been projecting Adrian Askanien onto me, no matter what color my hair was. Part of that was because they knew me better than Mecklenburg did. But just as important was circumstance, none of them had ever known Adrian personally. That made it much easier for them to separate us. Mecklenburg, on the other hand, had known Adrian Askanien first and had spent nearly ten years around him. It was only natural that Adrian’s face came to mind the moment he looked at mine.

The silence must have become too much for him, because he suddenly asked, “How’d you even change the color?”

“…Man~ I’m tired.”

“…….”

Seeing the look of contempt he shot me, I abruptly sat up and leaned toward him.

“Forget that. This is what’s important. Albert, think about it. Why is this place in such bad shape? Why are the facilities so run-down—”

“You’re the one who told me to get over my germophobia.”

“I’m not talking about the dust. Do you always get fixated on one thing and ignore everything else? Open your mind and listen.”

Mecklenburg looked like he was about to snap back, then shut his mouth with a sulky expression. I looked at him seriously again.

“At its core, what does a monastery do?”

“Pray. Study. Practice asceticism.”

“And is this a large monastery?”

“No. It’s on the smaller side.”

“Exactly. The school building being worn down is understandable. Kids that age are experts at breaking things.”

“No, they’re not. The students at our Third Academy always expressed their youthful energy in a restrained and considerate manner. This school’s deteriorated because the Old Human population, which accounts for 99.5% of all crime in the Empire, lacks basic morals— Ack!”

I smacked him across the mouth with mana and continued.

“It’s the tragedy of the commons. You don’t see it much in New Human society. But when you consider that crime rates among Old Humans also vary by social class… ah, never mind. Just shut up. That’s not the point.”

“Seriously? Fine. Then stop talking nonsense and finish what you were saying!”

“Not just the school—the main building, everything is falling apart. It’s gone well beyond ordinary wear and tear. The place is unsafe to walk through, and yet nobody’s repairing any of it.”

I used magic to pull a loose screw lying by the doorway into the air. Mecklenburg rubbed his chin and nodded.

“The cracked hallway floor was pretty shocking, I’ll give you that. But with the abbot sick, they probably can’t keep up with maintenance. What’s so surprising about that now?”

“The abbot wasn’t sick three years ago. And back then, there were a lot more students here too. Enough to fill every room.”

“And how exactly would you know that…? …No, forget it. Go on.”

“That’s unlike you.”

“Would you even answer if I asked? My common sense already fell apart the moment I saw how powerful those mages from that heretical cult you took me to were. If I were going to question where you get your information, that’s where I’d have to start.”

Pleroma hadn’t yet earned the fearsome reputation it would have by 1898. Even so, from Mecklenburg’s perspective, the clergy in Munich-Freising had been overwhelmingly powerful. To an ordinary person who believed there was no reason for powerful mages to join a heretical organization, what he’d witnessed had been nothing short of shocking. He had too many unanswered questions already, so for now, he had decided to set them aside and simply listen, is that it?

“Like you said, with the abbot sick, they couldn’t have maintained the place. They’re probably struggling financially too. Even if they’d wanted to fix things, they wouldn’t have had the means. You could say the whole place has been in decline for a while. So what kind of effect do you think a change like this has on people?”

“…Well, for one, the place isn’t exactly safe, so people are bound to get hurt more often. Productivity would drop too. And parents wouldn’t want to send their children somewhere like this.”

I nodded, then smiled faintly at Mecklenburg.

“Thanks. Now go read a book.”

“What? And where are you going?”

“Next door.”

What did eleven-year-olds usually like? Probably not spending all their time with adults. I’d have to play to his interests.

The door to the next room was slightly ajar. I knocked lightly.

“Student Alekseyev?”

“Ah!”

Yuri, who had been eating grain pudding while reading, hurriedly set down his tray and jumped to his feet. The book in front of him was a thick volume bound in sheepskin, filled with illustrations explaining the principles behind spellcasting. I never would have expected to find something so expensive in a monastery full of nothing but Old Humans.

“Is something the matter?”

“I just wanted to thank you again for earlier. May I come in?”

“Of course!”

Smiling, I stepped into his room. Before I could even say what I’d come for, he hurried over and exclaimed, “Is there anywhere you’d like to visit? I can show you around! Or would you rather learn about the Orthodox Church?”

“Learning about the Orthodox Church sounds good.”

He hesitated for a moment. Perhaps even he realized that, compared to the other option, studying wasn’t nearly as exciting. Even so, he still looked thrilled to be spending time with visiting mages. I drew my wand and rested both hands on its tip.

“While using magic.”

Yuri’s eyes widened in an instant.

“…I’d love that!”

“Before that, what’s your name?”

“Yuri Konstantinovich Alekseyev. But you can just—”

Knock, knock.

“Come in!”

Yuri cheerfully called toward the door. The person who entered was, unsurprisingly, Mecklenburg. Frowning, he blurted out, “Me too.”

“What?”

“I want in too. That’s okay, right?”

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“No.”

With that, he strode over, pulled out the chair beside us, and sat down. Casting a soundproofing spell, he kept his eyes forward and muttered, “You never know.”

You never know what? Mecklenburg was even wary of this kid. Yuri looked between the two of us before smiling and gesturing at the air.

“That was magic just now, wasn’t it? The sound thing.”

“…….”

Unlike Mecklenburg, who fell awkwardly silent, I answered with a smile.

“That’s right. A soundproofing spell. Do you know how to cast it?”

Yuri had been about to answer with a grin, but his smile vanished. He stared at me blankly before hurriedly covering his mouth.

“…Huh?!”

We’d only met today. Naturally, he thought I took him for an Old Human. From his perspective, it must have been strange that I’d casually asked whether he could cast magic.

“You looked like a mage to me the moment I saw you. Besides, you recognized the soundproofing spell immediately.”

Just like a cat can’t walk past a fish market. From what little I’d learned about the eight-year-old Yuri Alekseyev, he wasn’t the sort of child who would sit still after hearing that a mage had come to the monastery. And just as I’d hoped, he’d come to find us.

Unaware of any of that, Yuri could only stand there with his mouth hanging open.

“I-I see… None of my friends know yet.”

“Because they’re Old Humans.”

“Then… You sensed my mana, right?! I’ve been wondering this for a while—if someone has a core, can they tell right away that I’m a mage?”

“…….”

I tilted my head at the question, then smiled.

“Not necessarily. Most mages can’t even warp on their own without borrowing mana from an artifact. People like that can barely sense the mana flowing from another person’s body. Even experienced mages don’t usually try to detect someone’s mana on purpose. It takes effort.”

“But… doesn’t warping normally require an artifact?”

“No. If you have enough mana and can calculate fast enough, you can do it with just a snap of your fingers.”

I answered without paying any mind to Mecklenburg’s piercing stare. It’s not that I can’t do it—I just end up collapsing afterward. I really wanted to tell him that. If he’d met me back when I genuinely couldn’t warp on my own, he’d have spent days rubbing it in just to boost his own ego.

Yuri stood there with his mouth slightly open, lost in thought, before quietly murmuring, “I wish I had that much mana too.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s cool. And mana means money.”

“Do you want to earn a lot of money?”

Mecklenburg shot me a look that plainly said, Why would you ask that? For some reason, Yuri’s shoulders drooped as he answered.

“Of course. You need money for everything.”

“…….”

“Even to stay alive. If you don’t have money, you lose your life too.”

“I see. Well, I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

If anything, he had so much mana that I was worried someone might snatch him away because of it. Looking over the books he had stacked nearby, I asked, “So then, when are you going to tell us about the Orthodox Church?”

“Oh! Right now!”

Yuri spent quite a while explaining Orthodox customs before gradually drifting into topics he clearly enjoyed talking about.

“That’s why I never kiss icons. I feel bad saying it, but I don’t want to add my germs to something that so many people have already put their lips on.”

“…The person sitting next to me would probably say the exact same thing. I think you two would get along.”

“Huh?”

I gestured toward Mecklenburg, and Yuri’s eyes widened. Mecklenburg shot me a glare and shook his head.

“Well, maybe. But if it were seriously contaminated, wouldn’t they disinfect it?”

“They wouldn’t. It would ruin the paintings. Paint made with things like egg tempera would be damaged beyond repair.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

Outside, dusk was slowly settling in. Somehow, the sun seemed to be setting faster than before. I smiled lightly in response, then casually shifted the conversation where I wanted it to go.

“So, what’s it like living here?”

“I like it. Some of my friends want to move to a bigger city and get respectable jobs, but I don’t. I want to become a novice monk here, and one day a full-fledged monk. Then I’ll help run this monastery.”

“That’s admirable.”

“This monastery has been here for as long as I can remember. It means the world to me.”

I hadn’t even asked that much. Watching him smile so innocently, I was reminded of Ismailov—the guy who would only offer a single word after I spoke ten. The thought that he and this child were the same person made my stomach twist again.

“If you’ve been here since you were born…”

“Yes. My mother passed away after creating me, so I’ve lived here ever since I was born.”

His “mother” must have been one of the New Humans—a noble mage. I nodded, and Yuri happily continued on his own.

“Actually, I shouldn’t have the surname Alekseyev. I inherited my mother’s blood and magic, so I should’ve taken his family name instead.”

“Then whose surname is Alekseyev?”

“The abbot. His name is Konstantin Alekseyev.”

I nodded.

“So he’s like a parent to you.”

“I’ve always thought of him as my father.”

The mood turned heavy. Mecklenburg already knew the abbot’s condition was serious.

The man who’s been like your father has fallen gravely ill in just three years. You must be having a hard time. I swallowed the words instead and let the silence linger. Only after Yuri began glancing between us uncertainly did I speak again.

“The facilities here are pretty run-down. It looks like the children could get hurt. What do you think about that?”

Mecklenburg narrowed his eyes, probably convinced I was asking yet another pointless question. Yuri’s eyes lit up, and he answered excitedly.

“Oh, that? I already have a plan.”

“Hm? What kind of plan?”

“It’s a secret. I want it to be a surprise.”

“Haha. We’ll be heading back to Germany soon, so won’t you tell us?”

“Nope.”

It was a firmer answer than I’d expected. His expression was serious too, and oddly enough… his eyes wavered ever so slightly.

I smiled and nodded.

“In that case, never mind. Actually, I’d like to help repair the facilities here. I’d be willing to stay a few more days and cover the costs.”

“…!”

Yuri’s hands flew to his mouth. At his startled reaction, I asked again, “Would that be alright?”

“Of course! It would be a huge help to our monastery. I have to tell the abbot—”

“Ah, I’ll go tell him myself. Dinner’s soon anyway. Before that, there’s something I’d like to ask.”

“What is it?!”

“Are there any other mages in this town?”

“In this town? No. I’m the only one. Well… until you came.”

“Then do you know any mages outside of town?”

“Why do you ask?”

“No particular reason.”

I gave him a gentle smile and stood.

“I enjoyed your lesson on the Orthodox Church. I’ll see you at dinner.”

As soon as we stepped out of the room, Mecklenburg grabbed my shoulder and cast a soundproofing spell.

“Hey, wait. What do you mean we’re staying a few more days?!”

“Worried about your attendance?”

“No, that’s not—”

“We spent fifty-one hours getting here. We might as well stay a little longer.”

I answered flatly as I stepped back into the room and layered another soundproofing spell over the first. Mecklenburg stared at me, utterly baffled.

“…Really? You’re staying here longer?”

“Looks like it. If you want, you can head back. Otherwise, call in sick and say you’ve got the flu this time.”

“…….”

He stood there for a moment before pulling his warp permit from his bag.

“If we’re extending the trip, we just need to renew the warp authorization, right?”

Oh, you rascal. You’re going to stay anyway, yet you make your mouth hurt making a fuss about it. I looked at him for a moment, then smiled.

“Pack your things too. We don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Got it.”

Once we’d renewed the permit, I’d have to let Leo know too. Sorry, but I’d be locking myself away for another three hours or so.

After sharing a modest dinner with the monks, Mecklenburg and I each wrote letters—one to House Mecklenburg-Strelitz, the other to Imperial Second Academy. At eleven, we grabbed our bags and headed outside.

The acting abbot had given us permission to stay a little longer, so we’d be coming right back afterward.

‘Then it’s time to watch.’

I needed to see for myself how they approached Yuri.

We walked down the hill and looked toward the forest beyond the field. The warp point was on the other side. I’d warp to another region listed on the waypoint marker, then circle back to the train station near the border. Still watching the trees, Mecklenburg clicked his tongue and said.

“To the side.”

I nodded. It had been completely dark here since five that afternoon—six hours ago—so cutting through the forest wasn’t an option.

Crunch.

Frozen leaves snapped beneath our feet. Every so often, the cawing of crows echoed through the night. Guided only by moonlight and the faint glow from a farmhouse by the winding stream in the distance, we made our way toward the warp point beyond the woods. After another five minutes of walking, the only sound left was the crunch of leaves beneath our feet. Feeling the stillness in the air, I called out to Mecklenburg, who was walking a step ahead.

“Albert.”

“What?”

“The crows aren’t cawing anymore.”

Mecklenburg stopped and turned back like I’d just said something ridiculous.

“What? So wha—”

Whoosh— BOOM!

I transformed my wand into a sword and shoved Mecklenburg behind me. The hardened mana slammed against the blade, split apart, and scattered across the ground.

“W-What was that just—?!”

Mecklenburg’s eyes widened. The instant he drew his wand, I stomped my foot. Brilliant blue mana burst outward in every direction.

KRAAAASH! CLANG!

I deflected another attack that came flying in after the barrier and called over my shoulder.

“Stay focused, Albert.”

“It’s that thing from before—!”

BOOM! CLANG!

I crushed the mana racing along the ground beneath my foot and knocked aside another strike descending from above. Supporting my sword with one hand, I flicked the fingers of the other to cast a soundproofing spell. Then I repeated myself.

“Right. Keep the warp permit safe.”