Chapter 264: An Uninvited Guest

Vera Adelheid Lischke was having a perfectly pleasant afternoon until someone decided to investigate her.

It was becoming a rather tiresome occurrence.

She had been reviewing several reports in her office at Holy Trinity Academy when a junior administrator arrived with a request from the personnel department. Apparently, an inquiry had been submitted concerning her appointment, academic qualifications, and previous employment.

The request itself was perfectly ordinary. Universities and noble households frequently exchanged information concerning professors, particularly when those professors became involved in the education of aristocratic children.

What interested Vera was the manner in which the inquiry had been submitted.

The requester hadn’t identified themselves.

Instead, the documents had passed through an intermediary claiming to represent a private educational foundation. The foundation possessed legitimate credentials, maintained several academic partnerships, and had apparently offered to sponsor a research initiative at Holy Trinity.

A rather elaborate arrangement for someone who merely wanted to know where a professor had studied.

Vera examined the attached correspondence and laughed.

"Well, aren’t we being careful?"

The administrator explained that the personnel department had already refused to disclose confidential records. However, the foundation had requested an opportunity to speak with Vera directly, claiming that her expertise might be relevant to a future appointment.

She considered declining.

Then she noticed the institution listed as the foundation’s northern correspondent.

That was interesting.

Vera remembered a certain group of swordsmen who had followed her through the Imperial Capital several months earlier. They had been experienced fighters, armed and organized well enough that their employer couldn’t have been an ordinary criminal.

Unfortunately for them, they’d made the mistake of assuming that a wizard could be overwhelmed through numerical superiority.

The encounter had ended rather unpleasantly.

She had spared one survivor and sent him back north with a warning, although she had deliberately exaggerated her own standing to discourage further interference.

Apparently, the message hadn’t worked.

Or perhaps whoever received it had understood that claiming to be the world’s only Tenth Circle mage was a rather obvious bluff.

Vera found that possibility amusing.

She returned the documents to the administrator.

"Tell them I’m not interested in another appointment. I already have enough incompetent students to deal with."

The administrator accepted her decision and departed.

Vera resumed reading her reports, although her thoughts remained occupied by the inquiry.

Someone was interested in her relationship with Ilya Belozersky.

That much was becoming increasingly obvious.

The more interesting question was how far they intended to go.

She had encountered plenty of troublesome nobles throughout her life, and most possessed an unfortunate tendency to assume that sufficient money or influence would eventually produce whatever information they wanted.

Occasionally, someone discovered otherwise.

Vera suspected this particular investigation would prove entertaining.

Her afternoon improved considerably when Ilya arrived.

He knocked before entering, carrying several pages of calculations and a notebook containing the results of his recent training.

"Senior, do you have a moment?"

"Depends. Are you here to ask another stupid question?"

"Only moderately stupid ones today."

"How considerate."

Vera gestured toward the empty chair.

Ilya had originally intended to discuss the preliminary regulating technique he’d developed with Professor Hakon, but he also wanted to review several aspects of his performance during the interdepartmental demonstrations.

Their final exercise had ended successfully, with his group defeating Tristan’s through a coordinated attack against the opposing standard.

Vera had already heard about it.

Apparently, the Magic Department had spent the previous day arguing over whether the result constituted another victory for Ilya or merely demonstrated that Tristan’s teammates had performed poorly.

She found the distinction thoroughly uninteresting.

"Congratulations on winning your little game," she remarked. "Did they give you a medal?"

"No. Just another reason for Tristan to demand a rematch."

"How unfortunate. I was hoping you’d finally found something productive to do with your afternoons."

Ilya had become accustomed to her manner of speaking.

He presented his notebook and explained the principle behind the technique Hakon had helped him develop.

By maintaining a small reserve of mana along the initial circulation path, he could accelerate more efficiently without repeatedly constructing the entire formation from the beginning.

The method had produced measurable improvements.

However, there was a limitation.

Although the preliminary circulation reduced the delay before acceleration, it also made his movements easier to anticipate whenever he relied on the same initial pattern.

Vera understood immediately.

"You’re preparing your spell before you need it. Anyone who can sense the circulation will know something’s coming."

"Exactly."

"And you want me to fix it for you?"

"I was hoping you’d tell me whether there’s a better approach."

Vera examined the calculations.

The underlying principle was sound, although Ilya had made several assumptions concerning the relationship between mana circulation and the surrounding environment.

She identified two errors before he finished explaining his proposal.

Ilya accepted the corrections without complaint.

That was one of the reasons Vera found him tolerable.

He possessed enough intelligence to recognize when his reasoning was flawed, and enough pride to correct it rather than defend a mistake simply because it was his own.

Unfortunately, he also had a habit of discovering increasingly troublesome applications for whatever she taught him.

"You’ve been treating the preliminary circulation as something separate from your ordinary spell construction," Vera explained. "Why?"

"Because maintaining it continuously wastes mana."

"Then stop maintaining it continuously."

Ilya considered her answer.

The suggestion sounded obvious until he thought about what she meant.

His current method involved constructing a small circulation in advance, holding it until the moment of acceleration, and then connecting it to the main spell.

That produced a recognizable fluctuation.

However, if he briefly established the circulation and allowed it to disperse into the surrounding cold currents, he might be able to recover some of the prepared mana when necessary.

The idea was similar to the disturbances he’d previously used against Tristan.

Only this time, the purpose would be different.

He wouldn’t be creating false movements to confuse an opponent.

He would be distributing the preparation itself.

Ilya began revising his calculations.

Vera watched him for a while before returning to her paperwork.

She had given him enough information to work with.

There was little benefit in explaining every detail when he was perfectly capable of discovering the remaining steps himself.

After several minutes, Ilya looked up.

"I think I understand."

"Wonderful. Does that mean I can finally have my office back?"

"One more question."

Vera sighed dramatically.

"Of course there is."

He wanted to know whether the same principle could be applied while maintaining several independent freezing currents.

That was considerably more difficult.

Distributing mana across multiple formations increased the burden on the caster’s concentration, particularly when those formations required different adjustments.

For an ordinary First Circle wizard, the effort would be impractical.

Ilya, however, possessed an unusual degree of familiarity with cold-based magic.

Vera understood the reasons better than he did.

She wasn’t particularly interested in explaining them.

"Try mastering one circulation first," she advised. "Then worry about making your life unnecessarily complicated."

Ilya accepted the recommendation.

His notebook was already filled with enough problems to occupy him for several training sessions.

They spent another half hour reviewing the calculations before the conversation gradually turned toward less technical matters.

Vera asked about his recent activities at Holy Trinity, and Ilya mentioned the demonstrations, his classmates, and the increasingly ridiculous titles some students had begun assigning him.

Apparently, someone had started calling him the Snow Commander.

Vera laughed so hard that he regretted mentioning it.

"Snow Commander? Hahaha! That’s wonderful."

"Please don’t."

"Oh, come on. It’s adorable."

"I preferred it when nobody knew who I was."

"Then you should’ve remained an incompetent swordsman."

Ilya gave her an unimpressed look.

Vera seemed delighted.

Their conversation continued comfortably until the afternoon began approaching evening.

Eventually, Ilya collected his notebook and prepared to leave.

He had several assignments waiting at the estate, along with a collection of books he’d borrowed from the academy library.

However, before departing, he noticed the correspondence lying near the edge of Vera’s desk.

The documents bore the seal of an unfamiliar educational foundation.

"Another research proposal?"

Vera glanced toward the papers.

"Something like that."

"Are you considering it?"

"Not particularly."

Ilya accepted the answer.

He knew better than to pry into her personal affairs, especially when she clearly had no intention of discussing them.

Nevertheless, the northern correspondence seal caught his attention.

It resembled the marks used by several private institutions operating throughout the Empire’s colder provinces.

He recognized the general style, although he couldn’t identify the organization itself.

Vera noticed his interest.

"Something wrong?"

"No. I thought I recognized the seal."

"Do you?"

"Not exactly. It looks northern."

Vera smiled.

"How observant."

Ilya couldn’t tell whether she was praising him or making fun of him.

With Vera, both possibilities were equally likely.

He decided against pursuing the matter.

After thanking her for the assistance, he departed.

Vera remained in her office until his footsteps disappeared down the corridor.

Then she returned her attention to the correspondence.

The inquiry had been carefully prepared.

Whoever arranged it possessed considerable resources, enough influence to establish legitimate intermediaries, and sufficient caution to avoid repeating the crude approach of the previous attackers.

That was an improvement.

However, the change in methods also suggested that her earlier warning had reached someone capable of understanding it.

Vera wondered what conclusions they’d drawn.

The surviving swordsman had witnessed Muspelheim, and she’d deliberately allowed him to believe that she was a Tenth Circle mage.

Anyone knowledgeable enough would recognize the absurdity of that claim.

However, dismissing the title didn’t explain the power itself.

That was the useful part.

Even if the employer suspected a bluff, they still had no reliable means of determining what Vera could actually do.

She preferred keeping it that way.

After reviewing the inquiry once more, Vera placed it inside a drawer and resumed her ordinary work.

She had no intention of wasting an afternoon chasing after intermediaries.

If someone wanted to investigate her, they were welcome to try.

The more interesting question was whether they would eventually become impatient enough to approach her directly.

Vera smiled at the thought.

She rather hoped they would.

After all, it had been a while since she’d enjoyed a truly interesting conversation.