Chapter 105 : Forest of Secrets (1)

Chapter 105: Forest of Secrets (1)

That day, as always, Yeriel Helmont remained alone in his office late into the night, processing the backlog of documents.

The workload showed no signs of decreasing, and the complex problems that gave him headaches only grew day by day.

“Hoo.”

Even pressing firmly between his brows didn’t ease the headache.

He reached to lift his coffee cup to soothe his fatigue but ended up sighing again.

At some point, the cup had become empty.

“I’m sorry, but could you get me another cup of cof…?”

Halfway through his sentence, Yeriel tilted his head.

He was alone in the office.

‘Why did I suddenly say that?’

An abrupt sense of incongruity.

Just as he was pondering what that feeling was—

Thoom.

“What was that…?!”

A sudden surge of immense power.

Moments later, a massive pillar of fire erupted, so large that it was visible even from his office.

Startled, Yeriel quickly rose from his seat.

The towering pile of documents collapsed with a crash, but now was not the time to worry about such things.

“That direction is…”

The Forest of Secrets.

Then, was it Airos?

Yeriel immediately shook his head.

“No, this isn’t Airos’ energy. More than anything, he wouldn’t use such loud and grandiose magic. Then what on earth…?”

Muttering quickly, he began to prepare to head to the Forest of Secrets.

He gathered all sorts of artifacts just in case, and the moment he finished his preparations—

Bang.

The office door burst open without warning or a knock.

There was only one person in the Academy who would enter his office like that.

“Yeriel.”

“Elder Sister.”

It was his elder sister, Windy May Maddown.

Of all times, why now, in such an urgent situation…?

Unconsciously frowning slightly, Yeriel was taken aback the moment he saw Windy May.

She was even more thoroughly prepared than he was.

It had been years since he’d seen her like that.

“Elder Sister, what’s with that appearance…?”

“Yeriel, answer my question.”

Windy May cut him off and asked in a calm tone.

At a glance, her voice sounded cold and composed.

It was the voice of his elder sister—the one he deeply revered, whom he hadn’t heard in years.

“…Yes, Elder Sister. Please ask.”

Yeriel bowed politely as he answered, filled with respect for his elder sister and Archmage.

“Where were you about to go?”

“To the Forest of Secrets.”

“Why?”

“The energy we just felt, and the fire pillar that erupted—I was going to investigate the cause.”

“I see.”

“…May I ask why you’ve come prepared, Elder Sister?”

Windy May blinked and closed her eyes for a moment.

“I received a request for help.”

“A request for help?”

“Yes. From Lian Gwendil. That child.”

With that, Windy May showed him the note she had received.

It was purely by chance that she spotted the Spirit of the Blue Bird flying frantically.

The decision to briefly return to the Academy to retrieve something turned out to be a stroke of luck.

“This is…”

Though brief, the note’s contents were serious.

As Yeriel scanned the note, he let out a quiet groan.

“Then I must go to the Forest of Secrets too.”

“Do as you wish, Elder Sister. It’s fortunate for me. I’m sure the issue involving that child and what just happened are connected.”

“Yes…”

Windy May nodded slowly.

“So, Yeriel. What do you think their objective is?”

“Their objective?”

“Yes. Why do you think they went to the Forest of Secrets?”

“That would be… for the tomb, wouldn’t it?”

“There’s a caretaker at the tomb. Anything else of note recently?”

At Windy May’s question, Yeriel hesitated for a moment before answering.

“…The Philosopher’s Stone.”

“The Philosopher’s Stone?”

“Yes, I entrusted it to Airos for a time. To use it for the Academy’s defense.”

“The Philosopher’s Stone. Where did you obtain it?”

“…From the demons.”

Like a child afraid of being scolded, Yeriel glanced nervously at Windy May and confessed honestly.

To him, she was always like an adult figure.

“At a meeting a few days ago. I knew it was dangerous, but due to recent events, I felt it necessary to strengthen our defenses.”

“I don’t blame that decision. Surely, with the Philosopher’s Stone, many possibilities would’ve opened up.”

Contrary to his worries, Windy May dismissed it lightly and continued questioning.

“Who knows about it?”

“Myself and Professor Shagas. And the three demons who were present. So five in total.”

“And?”

At her prompt, Yeriel nodded as if remembering something he had forgotten.

“…Ah, and also, my secretary knows.”

“Secretary?”

“Yes.”

Windy May let out a small sigh.

Then she lightly waved her hand—and with her gesture, the sound of something shattering rang out in succession.

“Yeriel, it’s time for you to come to your senses.”

“…Pardon?”

“You’ve never had a secretary in the first place.”

She then pointed around the room, as if telling him to take a look.

“What do you mean…?”

“Look, there’s only your desk and chair here.”

Windy May continued in a quiet voice.

“Ever since we discovered an informant in the secretary’s office a few years ago, you’ve kept the secretary position vacant all this time. So then, since when have you had a secretary? One I don’t even know about?”

“…Wait, no way.”

Yeriel felt a chill run down his spine.

With a groan full of shame, fear, and confusion, he placed his hand on his forehead with a thud.

It was the moment he realized the source of the incongruity.

“My god… Since when… No, who could it have been…?”

“You still have much to learn.”

Windy May sighed softly.

“I want to say that, but this time, it couldn’t be helped. Even I almost let it slip by.”

“…You too, Elder Sister?”

He asked with an utterly exhausted voice, and she nodded.

“Yes. I don’t know who the enemy is, but they’ve brought back a truly terrifying artifact from somewhere.”

This kind of power.

With an ability like this, there was only one possible candidate.

“…Tobrida of the Mirage.”

A magician of distortion who twisted and manipulated the boundary between illusion and reality at will.

A monster who created hallucinations even the Wolpen Knights couldn’t escape from.

And a great demon who was supposedly defeated centuries ago.

“I don’t know what trick they used, but it seems they got their hands on that monster’s corpse.”

There is nothing better than the corpse of an exceptional magician as a material for the finest artifacts.

Naturally, the same applied to the demons.

Kyren and Allen.

Those who claimed to be “Allen Amiel.”

Their strange standoff was shattered by a completely unexpected external factor.

A deafening boom rang out from somewhere, followed by a massive pillar of fire rising high enough to be seen from afar.

A pillar of fire so immense that the heat could be felt from a distance.

For a moment, everyone’s attention was stolen by it, and that led to the breakdown of the balance.

“Kh!”

“Ugh?!”

Kyren Amiel.

Suddenly, he scattered the daggers hidden in his coat.

The hurled daggers, as if imbued with will, embedded themselves into the arms, shoulders, and thighs of those blocking his path.

He then darted into the staggering crowd and slashed with his sword.

Each time he swung, something flashed, and with each flash, at least two people stiffened and collapsed lifelessly.

In an instant, nearly a dozen people had been neutralized.

At this rate, he could surely break through the encirclement.

But…

‘Foolish bastard!’

He didn’t sense any indication that Allen was following him.

Frustrated by this, Kyren shouted.

“What the hell are you doing, not following me?!”

No response.

His frustration turned to puzzlement, and that puzzlement soon became shock.

“…What the?”

No one was paying attention to him.

Even with a breach in their formation, those who had called themselves “Allen Amiel” were solely focused on Allen.

Allen, while constantly on guard, seemed to be searching for something.

It didn’t take Kyren long to realize that what Allen was searching for—was him.

“Young Master?! Young Master, where are you?!”

Allen was desperately searching for him with a frantic voice.

He was just a few steps away, yet Allen scanned his surroundings as if Kyren weren’t even there.

“Young Master…! Damn it, what did you do to him?!”

“Well, I don’t know either.”

Unlike the furious Allen, the boy responded with a leisurely attitude.

He even smiled slyly as if everything had gone according to plan.

“Rather than worrying about that, how about worrying about yourself, Allen? Not a single one of the ‘Allen Amiels’ here is content or accepting of the fact that you’re Allen Amiel.”

“Enough of this nonsense…!”

With those words, Allen lunged at the boy.

The boy, too, pulled out a sword from who-knows-where and began to spar skillfully with Allen.

The other “Allen Amiels” stood by, weapons drawn, watching.

In that scene, Kyren Amiel was a complete outsider.

It was as if he had been erased from their perception at some point.

“…This is ridiculous.”

He had no idea how this situation came to be.

But at the very least, he had just confirmed that his attacks could reach them.

He could interfere with them, but they could not perceive him.

Wasn’t this the best-case scenario?

He gripped his sword again, ready to cut down the enemies who now had their backs defenselessly turned to him.

“Hup!”

Then, all of a sudden, he swung with all his strength to his side.

Chaaang!

His blade, slicing through the air, clashed against something invisible with a sharp metallic clang.

Kyren immediately steadied his stance, poised to strike at the seemingly empty space at any moment.

“Impressive.”

A voice flowed from the air.

A tone of genuine admiration.

A voice that felt vaguely familiar, yet uncertain.

“How did you know? I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty good at concealing my presence. Not to mention, this artifact helps.”

“Seems you can’t hide your scent.”

Kyren responded as if it were nothing.

“The stench was so foul it was unbearable.”

“A true bloodline of the Amiel family, it seems.”

A noble house said to have sworn to abandon everything except honor in order to remain forever as the loyal sword of the imperial family.

The opponent muttered mockingly, invoking the name of that house.

“Just like the imperial family’s lapdogs—got a damn good nose, huh?”

Even at the insult that mocked his entire house, Kyren grinned mockingly.

He even barked in a playful voice.

“Woof woof.”

Then, once more, he swung his sword toward the invisible opponent.

Why, he didn’t know.

But he was sure the opponent was someone he knew very well.

“You don’t even know my range. That won’t work.”

“Perhaps.”

Kyren twisted his body and swung his arm wide.

From his sleeve, a weighted chain shot out, drawing a wide arc as it swept around the area.

He felt it catch on something.

Without hesitation, Kyren yanked the chain and thrust his sword forward.

“If you don’t know where the enemy is, just attack everything around you. Sometimes you get lucky.”

Perhaps the artifact had been stripped away.

From the empty air, as if a stain were being wiped away, the opponent’s figure began to emerge.

Seeing that unbothered expression, Kyren let out a dry laugh.

“Right? …Or rather, wouldn’t you agree?”

He had a hunch.

From the moment his close friend had appeared as an enemy, he’d had a sinking suspicion.

And he had desperately hoped it wasn’t true.

“…Professor Yul Runberg.”

Yul Runberg.

Kyren quietly murmured as he looked at the man who, like him, was called the sword of the imperial family.