Chapter 272: A Favor for a Favor

Three days after the Thirteenth Society’s private gathering, Garen Vollbrecht discovered that repairing an expensive magical instrument was much less enjoyable when its owner expected him to pay for the replacement parts.

The apparatus itself was a respectable piece of engineering. Its brass measuring rings were designed to record fluctuations in ambient mana, while several calibrated crystals translated those readings into numerical values. Unfortunately, someone had attempted to increase its sensitivity beyond the recommended limits, damaging two of the rings in the process.

Garen examined the mechanism and concluded that the repairs would take several hours. He could replace the damaged components, recalibrate the instruments, and restore the apparatus to working condition without much difficulty.

There was just one problem.

"The committee doesn’t have replacement conductors?" he asked.

The upper-year student supervising him explained that their available supplies had been exhausted during another experiment. He suggested that Garen purchase the materials himself and submit the expenses afterward.

Garen wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about that arrangement.

He had already spent five silver marks attending the previous gathering. Financing someone else’s broken equipment on top of that seemed an unreasonable burden for a prospective member.

Naturally, the supervisor insisted that the society valued initiative and resourcefulness.

Garen replied that resourcefulness was an excellent quality, although it unfortunately couldn’t manufacture calibrated silver conductors out of thin air.

By the time Ilya arrived, the disagreement had attracted several spectators.

After hearing both explanations, he requested the original assignment and examined its conditions. The instructions specified that Garen was responsible for repairing the apparatus, while the engineering committee would provide the necessary materials and equipment.

The arrangement was straightforward enough.

"The committee is responsible for supplying the components," Ilya explained. "If you want him to find a cheaper supplier, that’s reasonable. But the purchasing expenses should still belong to the committee."

The supervising student argued that candidates were expected to demonstrate initiative rather than rely entirely on existing resources.

Ilya acknowledged the point. However, he also observed that requiring students to spend their own money without prior agreement would make the society’s obligations rather difficult to evaluate fairly.

After a brief discussion, the supervisor agreed to authorize the purchases.

Garen was delighted with the outcome until someone handed him the requisition forms.

Apparently, academic engineering involved an extraordinary amount of paperwork.

Ilya left him to his suffering and returned to the Magic Department, where Tristan was waiting after his afternoon consultation.

The southern nobleman had encountered difficulties with his own assignment, although his problems were considerably less expensive.

He’d been asked to assist an upper-year student preparing a presentation on historical military strategy. The subject suited his background, and his family maintained extensive records concerning Imperial campaigns.

Unfortunately, the student had already decided what conclusion he wanted to present.

According to his argument, the Empire’s greatest victories had been achieved almost entirely through the brilliance of individual commanders. Logistics, preparation, and the performance of ordinary soldiers were treated as secondary concerns.

Tristan found the interpretation deeply objectionable.

Several of the military campaigns cited in the presentation had depended on supply arrangements established months before the armies encountered one another. Other victories were attributed to commanders who had merely inherited advantageous positions from their predecessors.

Rather than providing references supporting the student’s assumptions, Tristan had spent an entire afternoon correcting them.

"He wasn’t pleased," Tristan admitted.

"I imagine he wasn’t."

"He asked me to help prepare a credible presentation. I did exactly that."

Ilya couldn’t fault his reasoning. A good argument required reliable evidence, and Tristan’s refusal to support an inaccurate interpretation was perfectly justified.

Unfortunately, the southern nobleman appeared to have developed a personal grudge against the presentation.

By the time their conversation ended, Ilya had heard enough about Imperial military logistics to understand why Tristan considered the assignment an insult to his intelligence.

They met Garen outside the engineering workshop shortly afterward.

His repairs were progressing, although the replacement materials wouldn’t arrive until the following morning. He’d already completed the preliminary recalibration and identified a second fault that the supervising student had overlooked.

The discovery had improved the committee’s opinion of him.

Garen seemed pleased, particularly because one of its senior members had offered to show him several experimental mechanisms after the repair was completed.

Whatever its peculiar traditions, the Thirteenth Society clearly possessed talented students with genuine academic interests.

That made Ilya’s own assignment more intriguing.

Margarethe von Adlerheim had finally provided the revised documents concerning several students who had withdrawn from competitive research projects. The materials consisted entirely of publicly available records and voluntarily submitted statements, which resolved his earlier concerns about confidentiality.

Ilya had already examined them that morning.

Over the previous two academic terms, several promising students had withdrawn shortly before major research competitions concluded. Most cited scheduling conflicts, insufficient resources, or changes in academic priorities.

Individually, the explanations were reasonable.

However, several withdrawals had occurred shortly before the affected students received unusually attractive opportunities elsewhere.

Two had transferred to privately sponsored research projects. Another received an assistantship under an accomplished upper-year researcher, while a fourth obtained access to equipment ordinarily reserved for advanced students.

Garen considered the pattern perfectly understandable.

"If someone offered me a better workshop and twice the materials, I’d consider changing projects too."

"Even if you were close to finishing your original one?" Tristan asked.

"Depends on what I’m getting."

Ilya agreed that the explanation deserved consideration. Students frequently abandoned projects when superior opportunities appeared, particularly when the original work offered little prospect of recognition or financial support.

Still, something about the records interested him.

Although the opportunities originated from different institutions, several recommendations had passed through the same student intermediary.

The name belonged to a senior member of the Thirteenth Society’s academic committee.

That established a connection between the society and the withdrawals, although it didn’t establish anything improper.

Ilya continued reviewing the documents and noticed another detail. Several of the newly vacant positions had subsequently been filled by students who already possessed connections to the society.

It was possible that the organization had simply helped capable students find suitable opportunities.

However, the arrangement also allowed its members to influence the allocation of desirable research positions without participating directly in the official selection process.

Tristan recognized the implication.

"Someone could use those recommendations to determine which students remain in a competition."

"Assuming they were doing it deliberately," Ilya replied.

"Of course. We’d need more information."

Garen suggested examining whether the students who withdrew had benefited from their decisions. If they received better opportunities and willingly accepted them, there might be no reason for concern.

That was a sensible approach, and the available records supported it.

The students had generally improved their academic circumstances after withdrawing.

Whatever the intermediary’s motivations, the arrangements appeared beneficial to those involved.

Nevertheless, Ilya found the society’s influence worth remembering.

An organization capable of arranging such opportunities could become extraordinarily useful to its members. It could also create an uncomfortable degree of dependence if those favors eventually came with expectations.

The distinction would depend on how the organization exercised its influence.

The following afternoon, Ilya submitted his findings to Margarethe.

The society’s secretary received him in a small office adjoining the Old Astronomical Hall. Several cabinets lined the walls, containing correspondence, committee reports, and records of previous activities.

Margarethe reviewed his conclusions with interest.

"You identified the intermediary."

"Several of the recommendations passed through him. I couldn’t determine whether he influenced the withdrawals themselves."

"Do you believe he did?"

"There’s insufficient evidence. The students appear to have benefited from changing projects, and the available statements don’t indicate that anyone pressured them."

Margarethe seemed satisfied with the response.

She explained that the society frequently assisted talented students in obtaining academic opportunities. Its members maintained connections across multiple departments and occasionally arranged introductions, recommendations, and collaborative projects.

Those activities were among the organization’s principal benefits.

Ilya understood their value.

In fact, he’d encountered similar arrangements through Solenne and the Vernet Mercantile Consortium. The right introduction could accomplish more than months of independent effort, particularly when a promising researcher lacked the resources necessary to develop an idea.

However, Solenne had also taught him something else.

People rarely invested time and resources without considering what they might gain in return.

"Does the society expect repayment for arranging these opportunities?" he asked.

"That depends on the agreement. Some are ordinary recommendations, while others involve reciprocal obligations."

"And the obligations are recorded?"

"Of course."

Margarethe explained that the relevant committees maintained records of significant exchanges to prevent misunderstandings. Members were permitted to negotiate the terms beforehand, and disputes could be referred to the society’s leadership.

The explanation was reasonable, although Ilya wondered how effectively those safeguards operated when one participant possessed far greater influence than the other.

For now, there was little reason to pursue the matter further.

Margarethe accepted his report and confirmed that his assignment had been completed successfully. She also informed him that the society’s next gathering would introduce several additional privileges reserved for members.

Ilya thanked her and departed, leaving the secretary to organize the documents.

Among the reports awaiting her attention were the evaluations of three candidates whose assignments had produced unusually detailed results.

Ilya Belozersky had questioned the source and implications of the records he’d received.

Tristan Bellacourt had refused to support an inaccurate academic argument, even when doing so complicated his assignment.

Garen Vollbrecht had challenged an unreasonable expense and subsequently discovered a mechanical fault that the engineering committee had overlooked.

Each had approached his responsibilities differently.

Yet the reports revealed an amusing similarity.

Whenever one of them encountered a difficulty, the other two somehow became involved.

Margarethe found that rather interesting.

The Thirteenth Society had invited exceptional individuals, and the three were certainly proving themselves capable.

Whether they would be equally cooperative once their interests began to diverge was another matter.