Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor

Chapter 226: Un Deux Trois [1]

What were Origins?

If Selena were to describe them, she would call them the stigmata in their purest form. Just as the world was bound by the immutable forces of polarity, time, reality, mana, grace, knowledge, darkness, and authority, each of these principles was anchored within a chosen vessel.

Placed into different people, they became the constants that upheld balance itself.

“And you’re saying… the three of us are one of those?” Astrid asked, pointing at herself before glancing toward the others.

“Is it such a difficult concept to grasp?” Selena replied evenly.

“Not… entirely,” Astrid admitted. “But if that’s the case, then… what exactly does that make us?”

Selena’s gaze swept across the three. “It makes you anchors. Living keystones that the world itself leans upon. Whether you accept it or not, the balance depends on your existence.”

“Then… is Vanitas—” Margaret began, but Selena cut her off.

“I cannot say,” she interjected. “The Marquess is unlike anyone I’ve ever encountered. It’s as though something within him withholds the truth from me.”

“Is that so?” Margaret replied. “Then he truly is remarkable. To rise to such heights without any clear ties to the constants, he has joined the Great Powers through his own efforts alone.”

Despite everything, Karina found no words to refute her.

For all the resentment she harbored toward Vanitas Astrea, she couldn’t help but admit he was extraordinary. His intellect, his strength, and his ability to bend the world’s systems to his will had brought him where countless others had failed.

A man who could obtain anything he desired. One who would stop at nothing when denied, yet never abandoned his principles and pride. His demeanor was as immovable as stone, placing dignity above all else.

And yet, he had the strength and merit to justify it, so much so that he never appeared lofty or pretentious.

A true noble among nobles.

And a man with countless sins to his name.

As Karina was lost in her thoughts, the other three girls turned their gazes toward her.

“What?” she muttered with a frown.

“Why are you here, exactly?” Margaret asked. “Is it to sabotage Vanitas?”

Margaret did not know the full story, but she knew enough. From what she had gathered, Karina was nothing more than an ungrateful mage who had stabbed Vanitas in the back.

Though a year had passed since then, and Karina had clearly matured, given her rise through the Zyphran military ranks, to assume her appearance in the north was anything but hostile would be careless.

“I have nothing to tell you, Knight of Astrea.” Karina turned to Astrid. “But if you’re truly curious, the Princess can explain enough.”

At once, all eyes shifted to Astrid, whose expression had grown solemn. She had remained silent until now, struggling to articulate her words properly.

After a long pause, she finally spoke.

“Marquess Vanitas Astrea… might be involved in my mother’s death.”

Margaret’s eyes widened, disbelief flashing across her face.

“What?” She turned sharply toward Karina. “What kind of lies have you been feeding the Princess? No, more than that, how ungrateful could you possibly be? To slander the very man who supported you? I should behead you here and now for such blasphemy.”

Karina didn’t flinch under Margaret’s fury. Her sapphire eyes gleamed like frost, and the icy tension from earlier returned.

“Do you think I’d risk speaking such things if I weren’t certain? I have nothing to gain from lying to her. If anything, it puts me at greater risk.”

“You’ve already betrayed him once. What’s another lie? Your words are worth less than snow underfoot.”

From Selena’s perspective, the three before her looked no different from children bickering. However, she was, in truth, younger than both Margaret and Karina, yet in this moment, she found herself forced into the role of mediator.

And still, even she could not summon a defense for the Marquess.

Her thoughts drifted back to the visions she had glimpsed in the rivers of fate.

“….”

It was apparent to Selena that Vanitas had harbored feelings for the Empress, Astrid’s mother. Feelings that went beyond loyalty, bordering on obsession, even.

So much so that Selena could almost imagine him crossing the line.

She could practically imagine him… killing her, if he couldn’t have her.

“….”

He was a frightening man, undeniably so. But he was also the most reliable man she had at her side.

In truth, he was the only one she could rely on now.

“By the way, Saintess, I’m curious,” Astrid said after the commotion finally began to settle.

“Hm?”

“The Sword Saint. Rumors say he’s disappeared. And since you’re here without him… what does that mean?”

Selena’s brow raised slightly, as if reminded of something she had forgotten.

“The Sword Saint… Yes, that is… a complicated matter. His absence is one of the reasons I’m here.”

Astrid tilted her head. “Reasons?”

Selena folded her hands. “Princess of Aetherion, I’ve come to seek support. Will you stand with me in overthrowing the Theocracy?”

Astrid blinked, caught off guard by the Saintess’s sudden words.

“…Overthrow the Theocracy?”

“Yes.”

Then, Selena began to explain how she had come to Aetherion.

Margaret, already aware of the circumstances, remained silent. Astrid and Karina, however, wore grim looks as they listened intently.

“A prophet…”

“That’s…”

What they were hearing was terrifying. At that very moment, only the three of them, excluding Vanitas, understood the real danger behind the scenes. There was no need to doubt the Saintess’s words, for the Saintess would not lie.

“Very well,” Astrid said at last. “I’ll inform my brother, the Emperor, of this matter.”

Selena inclined her head. “Do so. But tread carefully. The cult has eyes everywhere. Even your palace walls may not be safe from their reach. The Church certainly wasn’t.”

Astrid swallowed hard. A part of her wanted to brush it aside as exaggeration, yet the seriousness in Selena’s gaze told her otherwise.

Karina crossed her arms, her expression dark. “If the Theocracy truly has a prophet, then they already know we’re moving against them. Which means…”

“…Which means the clock is already ticking,” Margaret finished grimly.

For certain, with Vanitas Astrea’s operations against the cult’s laboratories a month prior, backed by the Emperor himself, and yet left largely unchecked, Selena found the situation troubling.

From her perspective, it was almost certain that even the Prophet knew.

And if he knew…

’He allowed it to happen.’

The Prophet’s intentions were utterly inscrutable. He had permitted her escape. He had allowed Vanitas to expose and dismantle the cult’s operations.

None of it aligned with the behavior of a man who had brought nothing but catastrophe across the continent.

No, it was as if every move so far had been tolerated on purpose

Which meant… the worst had yet to come.

——Had this been a ploy all along? Were your intentions here to sabotage the north?!

The following day, Selena awoke from a nightmare.

“Ugh…” she groaned suddenly, clutching her head.

Margaret, sharing the same quarters with her during their stay in the north, looked up in concern.

“What’s wrong, Saintess?”

“I—I’ve… ukh… received a divine revelation…” Her voice shook as the pain deepened.

For nearly a minute, she was silent, sometimes groaning under the excruciating pain. A bead of sweat traced its way down her forehead before she finally lifted her gaze with a serious look.

——It was you. You killed my son.

“We must… evacuate inside the leyline.”

Selena didn’t understand why, but if her comprehension was correct, she was about to be accused of murdering the Northern Duke’s son.

The very same son who had been reported to have died at the hands of the Thunderbird.

“Hurry, Miss Illenia!”

* * *

Vanitas, having been awake the entire night after a suffocating nightmare, finally stepped out into the halls. The silence pressed in around him. His first thought was to check in on Vincent.

He stopped before the man’s door and knocked. However, there was no answer.

It was early, but at this hour, most scholars were usually awake. Discipline demanded that rest be punctual, for a great rest nurtured a great mind.

Vanitas knocked again, a little harder this time, but the silence remained.

Before he could knock a third time, a voice reached his ears from the side.

“You knock on an empty room, dear guest.”

“….”

Vanitas turned. A member of the hotel staff was there, pushing a tray of linens and amenities with their lips curled into an eerie smile.

“That room has already been cleared out,” the staff member continued. “The guest has finished their stay.”

“Finished?” Vanitas’s eyes narrowed. “It has only been a single night. An overnight booking, then?”

“The Lily of the Valley prioritizes the privacy of its guests,” the staff replied. “It would be best if you remained mindful of your own business.”

Privacy. That was the word they used, but the chill in their tone suggested something far different.

“…I see,” he said. “Then I will not press.”

The staff gave a polite bow and moved past him. Yet Vanitas did not miss the way their eyes glinted, as though mocking him for asking in the first place.

When the staff disappeared around the corner, Vanitas turned back to the door of Vincent’s room. His fingers brushed over the handle, but he did not open it.

If Vincent had truly “finished his stay,” then the reality was simple.

The hotel had claimed him.

Vanitas’s jaw tightened as his mind replayed the mutilated body he had seen in his nightmare. He could not dismiss it as a mere coincidence.

That very day, of the many Scholars who had entered the hotel, only half showed up.

——I want to go home…

——What if I’m next?!

Many of the scholars, once eager for discovery and observation, now trembled in fear. Curiosity had long fled from their hearts, replaced with the natural human instinct of survival.

None of them wanted to be the next body found in the hallways.

Vanitas was not the only one plagued by such dreams. His mind, tempered by countless trials, kept him alive where others had succumbed to it.

Still, even for those who endured, the demons would not relent forever. If every night was the same, then it was not a question of if they would fall, but when.

“Fear will devour you faster than the Lily itself,” Vanitas said.

“….”

Silence swallowed the hall. Some lowered their gazes in shame. Others clenched their fists, desperate to believe his words, but their hand trembled too clearly.

Finally, one voice rose.

“Marquess, what are we supposed to do? How are we supposed to escape?!”

“First and foremost, from my experiences with mind-bending entities, what spirits seek is nothing more than entertainment.”

“Then do you suggest this is the work of a spirit?”

“Worse,” Vanitas said. “It’s the work of a demon.”

Gasps filled the hall.

Studies dictated that demons were far more terrifying than any spirit. Yet strangely, they found comfort despite fear, for demons were at least straightforward. Spirits, on the other hand, were difficult to decipher.

And what were they, if not scholars? Not adventurers or knights, but each one of them had mastery in a specific field of magic. Their entire lives had been dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. And what was magic if not humanity’s answer to demons themselves?

History had shown time and again that mankind had always prevailed against demons. With each century, humanity had only known advancement.

If the Lily of the Valley truly was a demon’s domain, then this meant they had a chance.

Approaching the reception desk, Vanitas asked, “How much time remains before my stay expires?”

“Time is not so easily measured here, dear guest. But if you must know… a single night. At dawn, your stay will end.”

Vanitas narrowed his eyes. “And what happens when it ends?”

The receptionist’s smile only widened. “Why, you leave, of course. One way… or another. But tell me, sir, what is a hotel if not a place of rest? Do guests not dread the day they must check out? You are a peculiar guest indeed.”

The Lily of the Valley truly believed itself to be a hotel. Its rules, its logic, all mimicked that of hospitality. And if it functioned like spirits he had dealt with before, then one thing became clear.

A game only ended once played to completion.

A smirk tugged at Vanitas’s lips. “You’re right. In that case… does this place have a pool? A jacuzzi, perhaps?”

“Of course, dear guest. The Lily of the Valley offers every amenity you desire. Simply ask, and it shall be arranged.”

“…Interesting.” Vanitas folded his hands behind his back.

If the hotel insisted on playing the role of host, then he would play the role of guest.

“Then, might I trouble you for directions?” he asked.

“But of course. I shall have a staff member guide you at once.”

As long as the rules were absolute, compliance was a necessity. But once the chains shackling him came unbound, there would be only one course of action left.

“Right this way, sir.”

Extermination.