Chapter 104: The Forgotten Notebook

Chapter 104: Chapter 104: The Forgotten Notebook

The following morning, Jeremy and his four teammates dragged their bodies to attend the Anima department’s end-of-semester summary meeting as customary, and then sat through another session at the closing ceremony jointly organized by the five major departments.

Class 659 ranked first in the entire academy for theoretical scores, and second for practical scores.

Their overall average score was only a razor-thin margin away from the champion position.

As a reward, in addition to ten thousand merit points, each person also received a high-tier magic tool.

After the leaders took turns giving speeches and handing out rewards, this semester officially came to a close.

The academy was so bustling today it was almost ear-piercing. Throughout the corridors, plazas, and teleportation stations, tearful farewells echoed everywhere.

"Finally, we get a break!"

"Sigh, your country is too far away, I have no way to fly over and visit during the holiday."

"Don’t worry, we’ll see each other again in just a month!"

"Boo hoo..."

In stark contrast to the tearful hugging scenes of other teams, the Lunar Eclipse Team was as cold as a block of ice forgotten in the middle of the plaza.

All the way back to the dormitory tower, not a single one of the five opened their mouths to utter a single sentence.

With this group’s personality, that warm, cheesy atmosphere had almost zero chance of surviving past three seconds.

Dormitory.

Finishing packing his luggage in less than ten minutes, Jeremy dropped a formal farewell to his four teammates, then grabbed his coat and headed home.

A letter from the Duke’s mansion had arrived the day before. The contents were merely a few lines of formulaic greetings, along with a designated pick-up and drop-off location.

Although the original owner, Lomita, and Raphael were all children of Duke families, because the original owner was extremely averse to others encroaching on his boundaries, every year he refused to bring maids or group up with his peers, opting to quietly go to the academy and quietly return by himself.

For Jeremy, that habit was actually a gift. The fewer people who understood the original owner, the safer he was.

After leaving the City in the Sky via the teleportation matrix, Jeremy followed the blinking, glowing magic guidance on the letter.

Before he even arrived, from a distance he spotted a flying carriage already parked in the waiting area.

The entire carriage body was crafted from mithril; the blue-yellow crystals inlaid along the sides perfectly matched the winding vine-shaped runic matrices, both discreet and yet flaunting a silent luxury.

The flower-entwined dragon crest carved on the roof of the carriage was precisely the family crest of the Valmont lineage.

As for the man standing next to the carriage, possessing a gentle and elegant aura, he was the butler assigned to the Duke’s mansion in the capital - Melson Nashus.

He was originally an orphan. During a riot, when he was standing right on the brink of death, he was saved by the Duchess, and from then on, he clung to the Valmont family to repay the debt of gratitude.

Melson was two years older than the original owner’s older brother, twenty-seven this year.

This was a business prodigy. Two years ago, after the old butler in the capital retired, he was personally dispatched by the Duchess to take over. Nominally a butler, but in reality, the mastermind operating all of the family’s major merchant caravans.

Jeremy didn’t expect the person picking him up to be him.

Fortunately, whether in the western territory or during his two years living alone in the capital, the majority of the original owner’s time was spent in solitude. In that mansion packed with people, there truly weren’t many who were qualified to be called close to him.

Melson almost moved to the capital at the same time as the original owner; they occasionally bumped into each other in the western region, but the number of times the two truly conversed could be counted on one hand. There was no need to worry about being seen through.

As soon as he saw his figure, Melson immediately stepped forward.

He bowed with an angle accurate to the degree, his expression gentle, his voice as warm as his appearance itself: "Has the young master been well at school these past few months? Has everything been smooth?"

Jeremy rummaged through the original owner’s usual reactions in his memory, merely giving a "yeah", lightly waving his hand to signal the other party to rise, then silently brushed past him, stepped into the carriage, and leaned against the window frame.

It was mid-winter.

Inside the carriage compartment, a thick magic fur rug was laid out, and a heat-retaining matrix had been pre-set. The bone-chilling cold outside was blocked right at the threshold, and his stiff joints gradually relaxed.

Melson was used to this young master’s reticence, didn’t say another word, and merely signaled the carriage driver to depart.

An hour later, the Duke’s mansion.

Exactly like in the original owner’s memory, this place was no different from a castle erected right in the heart of the capital.

As soon as Jeremy stepped through the gate, what hit his eyes were two rows of servants, maids, and attendants standing at the ready in the courtyard, bowing obediently like chess pieces arranged with a ruler.

Even though he knew full well how ostentatious the aristocratic system in this world was, reality still proved it to be even more absurd than imagined.

Rushing through the bunch of greeting formalities, Jeremy arrived at the original owner’s room and closed the door. With the space left to himself alone, he finally felt the air clear up significantly.

Exhaling a breath, he raised his eyes and swept a glance around the room.

A grayish-white color scheme. The furniture was all luxury tier, but there was absolutely not half a trace of a living person’s breath.

Unclear whether it was due to being cleaned too frequently or for some other reason, but the entire room couldn’t be found a single trace of the former owner’s daily life. Not even a single picture frame.

Jeremy had no interest in rummaging through every drawer either. After washing his face, he immediately turned into a lazy caterpillar, throwing himself onto the bed.

But the part of his back leaning against the headboard transmitted a bumpy sensation.

He sat up abruptly, leaning sideways to carefully observe the wooden panel behind him, discovering a slightly raised vein pattern on the surface.

This kind of secret compartment was so glaringly obvious that one didn’t even need to look closely to notice it.

He reached out and pressed down.

"Click."

The smooth, flat wall emitted a dry sound, and right after, a magic box hovered up into mid-air.

Jeremy took it down and opened it.

Inside, there was nothing that could be called bizarre. It was all miscellaneous trinkets.

A bellflower wreath that had been cast with a sealing spell, so it still retained its fresh color. A small ring braided from flower stems, already shriveled up. A few gemstones ground into tiny star shapes. A glass bottle tightly stuffed with neatly folded wish-card fragments.

And a notebook.

The name signed on the inside cover: Sylas Valmont.

Jeremy’s fingertip paused on the paper surface for exactly one beat.

The name carved on the fate stone, the legal name that truly belonged to this physical body.

The original owner’s dozen or so years of memories were already patchworked and chaotic, yet this box and this notebook alone didn’t leave even a single fragment inside. It was as if its owner himself had personally strangled that memory segment long ago.

He flipped the cover open.

The crooked, distorted handwriting instantly hit his eyes.

The writing was so abstract it challenged the reader. Phonetics, symbols, and even drawings were all mobilized and mixed together. Probably because he didn’t know enough characters to write, he resorted to smearing pictures instead.

It was clearly the handwriting of the original owner from when he was very young.