Instead of the annex where I usually stayed, I moved my steps to the outskirts of the Blando estate.
The Blando estate, befitting its name as a noble family, was as large and expansive as a small village.
'It could be considered a village in itself.'
Indeed, beyond the estate, a city had formed, consisting of the servants and families of the mages.
In any case, the place I was now heading to was the outer hall of the Blando estate.
The Magic Academy.
It was a research institution for magic.
'I never thought that the dimwit from the collateral line would be the vice-head's younger brother.'
The dimwit from the collateral line who had been beaten up came to find me right after my meeting with Bianca ended.
- You, brat... You hit me pretty well just now, didn't you?
- Looks like you didn't get enough.
- ...I got enough. I came here because I have something to say. Our older brother wants to see you.
- Well, before that, let's see if you can take another beating.
This was a familiar routine.
When you beat someone up, you shouldn't think it's over with that person.
These kinds of people always form a group like goblins, and after one gets beaten up, the next one, who hasn't recovered, will come looking for you.
Of course, I didn't expect this.
'A vice-head after a dimwit.'
What position does the vice-head of the Magic Academy hold?
If you line up the key figures of a noble family of magic, even if they don't make it into the top five, they are certainly among the top ten power players.
If you count only the collateral line, they would be in the top five.
'Usually, the position of vice-head is like that, but with the bloodline backing it up...'
Position and bloodline.
Someone who possesses both, a true power player, one might say.
To put it in a metaphor, it's like I beat up a goblin, and when I entered the village, an ogre, or even a wyvern, was waiting!
But, who am I?
'No one.'
In my previous life, I wasn't someone particularly important. I was a troubleshooter. And in this life, I'm a homeless kid from the gray zone with nothing.
So, it's fine if I don't go.
And any sane person would know that not going is the smart thing to do.
Still, the reason I'm walking here so confidently is that I am the owner of the tower.
'Even though the tower doesn't exist yet...'
I don't even have the land to build it.
'And I don't have any books...'
I don't even have the money to buy books.
Still, in my heart, a massive tower stands tall, so why should I be intimidated by the vice-head of the Blando Magic Academy?
I shouldn't.
Thus, I arrived at the Magic Academy.
"What brings you here?"
As I entered the entrance, a low-ranking mage blocked my way and asked.
I recalled the name the collateral dimwit had told me in the morning and answered.
"I was called by Sir Hengji."
"Oh, yes! The vice-head mentioned it. Please come this way."
The low-ranking mage quickly relaxed his guard and personally guided me to the vice-head's office.
I took in the scenery as I passed through the Magic Academy.
But, what can I say.
'They all look like they're dying.'
The mages I encountered in the corridors all walked without any energy.
The only sounds I could hear from the slightly open doors wereโ
"Ugh! That's not it!"
"No, no!"
Desperate screams.
When I slowed my steps and peeked through the gap, all I saw were corpses.
'...'
No, they weren't corpses. They were still moving.
They were just mages who looked like they could die at any moment, clutching parchments and crying.
"Haha. We're not always like this. It just happens to be the day before the weekly meeting."
"Oh, I see."
It's even scarier.
If this is how they are the day before the weekly meeting, it means they live like this every week.
'So, this is how it is for those who hold the pen, huh?'
Here, 'pen' doesn't refer to administrative positions.
It refers to mages who, like those in the Magic Academy, research theoretical principles of magic.
I've infiltrated many such institutions during my troubleshooter days, and they all had these characteristics.
First.
'Bare heads.'
All the 'pen holders' had bald heads.
Just like grass doesn't grow on a path that people frequently walk on, their hair doesn't grow because they pull it out so often.
Second.
'They look like they could die if you touch them.'
They don't actually die. It's just a feeling.
One of my colleagues once poked a 'pen holder,' and he didn't die; he just fell asleep.
Or, he pretended to sleep.
'He was happier to have an excuse to sleep than to be angry about having his research topic stolen by an intruder.'
Suddenly, I looked at the low-ranking mage.
"Hmm, stage one."
"Excuse me?"
"Never mind."
Seeing him wearing his robe over his head on such a hot day, I could tell he was in the process of losing his hair.
Hiding his head to deny the fact is stage one, and exposing it is stage two.
At stage three, he would be like the mage coming towards me, with his head completely shaved.
'No, wait. He's at stage four.'
When a long time has passed since he shaved his head, his scalp would reflect light, marking stage four.
'And... he's left-handed.'
The right side of his head was unusually shiny, which was the evidence. Some people ask why a left-handed person's right side is shiny.
The reason is simple.
'He holds the pen with his left hand.'
The habit of pulling out his hair has left his right hand, which is free, constantly touching his head.
Of course, there is also stage five.
'Studying impossible magic.'
A spell to make hair grow.
It's impossible.
Even the greatest geniuses in history have dabbled in it, but no one has succeeded. It's an unknown realm.
In fact, reattaching severed limbs is easier.
Of course, there aren't many who go that far.
Most find their own happiness at stage four and console themselves as a badge of honor.
As I walked, observing the stages of the 'pen holders,' I soon arrived.
"The vice-head is here. By the way, be careful of your head after opening the door."
"..."
The low-ranking employee left with those mysterious words.
I stood in front of the door, pondering his words for a moment, and then knocked to announce my presence.
"Come in."
A polite tone.
Creak.
As I opened the door and stepped inside, a pile of documents fell on my head.
Rustle, thud.
"..."
So, that's what he meant by being careful of my head.
The vice-head's office was a sea of documents, or rather, a space entirely filled with them.
As I coughed from the thick dust, a hand was extended towards me.
"Nice to meet you, Aster. I'm Hengji von Blando. I heard you disciplined my younger brother?"
* * *
"First, I apologize. I spoiled my youngest brother, and I never thought he would be so rude to a guest of the young master."
Hengji was an unusual man.
He was the opposite of his younger brother.
While his unnamed younger brother was a typical example of a deficient individual from a noble family, Hengji himself was a man of substance.
Moreover, his hair wasโ
'Abundant.'
Abundant.
As he smiled at me, Hengji's head was adorned with the Blando family's characteristic dull platinum hair, flowing smoothly.
The important point here is not that he has platinum hair, but that it 'flows.' It means his hair is so abundant that it flows.
And even more...
'He's young.'
He's even young.
Despite being the vice-head of the Blando Magic Academy, he is in his late thirties. There's a significant age difference from his younger brother, but for a vice-head, he is quite young.
The Blando family, being a noble family, wouldn't just appoint a vice-head based on bloodline.
'So, he must have the skills.'
Did he notice my gaze?
Hengji smiled.
However, it wasn't a smile that understood my inner thoughts.
"Aster, you're quite unique. I felt it even as I listened to my younger brother's account. You're different from the typical homeless kids from the gray zone."
He had observed me as well.
I had no appropriate response, so I just gave an awkward smile.
If I had come in with a hostile attitude, I might have reacted differently, but the unexpected atmosphere left me quite perplexed.
Especially, look at that kind smile.
'...'
Originally, I'm the type who spits at anyone, but that's because anyone spits at me first.
But, not only did he not spit, he even smiled kindly.
I used to boast that I could spit at a smiling face, but now, in front of him, it's so difficult.
It's what you might call 'human chemistry.'
But Hengji didn't seem to care. Or, he didn't even notice my discomfort.
"By the way, I heard the news. You've been recommended to enter the academy? Congratulations."
"Ah, thank you."
He started the conversation with just the news he had heard.
"It's a good opportunity. There's a lot to learn. In fact, I'm also a graduate of the Jenion Academy. For your reference, I'm from the 145th batch."
He talked about his alma mater even though I hadn't even entered the academy yet.
At this point, I couldn't help but wonder.
'Why...'
Why did Hengji, the vice-head of the Magic Academy, call me here?
If it was for revenge for his younger brother, it would be a great success. Even the head of the Deculan family couldn't torment me like this.
Did he read my expression?
"Ah, I'm sorry. I got carried away with excitement when I heard you were entering the Jenion Academy. After all, the concept of alumni is quite weak among blood relatives."
"Ah, I see."
He seemed genuinely happy, but I couldn't understand the emotion.
Originally, homeless kids from the gray zone have no concept of school ties or blood relations. In fact, regional ties are more like bad blood, leading to mutual distrust when they meet outside.
In any case, Hengji concluded the topic and moved on to the main point.
"Actually, I called you here for a reason. While I did want to apologize for my younger brother, there was another, more significant reason."
"Another reason...?"
"Before I get to that, I have one thing I want to confirm. May I have your permission?"
I didn't answer immediately. I just stared at Hengji.
How should I put it?
'Hmm.'
Transparent eyes. His eyes drew soft curves, and overall, they were white and bright, giving off a kind and gentle impression.
His eyes were so clear.
But, as I looked closely, I suddenly thought:
'I can't read him.'
Whether a sage or a villain, their eyes usually reflect some emotion.
Even a thoroughly trained assassin would be the same, but strangely, Hengji's eyes showed no emotion at all.
So, in other words.
'He was wearing a mask.'
It wasn't just a mask. It was so intricate and real that it could even deceive himself.
No, it wasn't a mask. The mask and his true self had blended together, making it impossible to tell which was real.
Realizing this, I finally relaxed.
"..."
Hengji raised his eyebrows slightly, looking puzzled, but his kind and clear appearance no longer made me uncomfortable.
How should I put it?
I'm like a swamp goblin, more comfortable in murky water than clear stream water. And Hengji was like the Sale River, a mix of both.
Feeling a sense of familiarity, I smiled.
And I answered.
"Let's hear it."
"Then, I'll ask, Aster."
"Yes."
"Could you risk your life for a friend? It's a matter of life and death for the Blando family. If you can risk your life... "
Hengji placed a book on the table.
"I'll give you this book."
"..."
I was taken aback when I saw the title on the cover.
After all, it was the core secret of the Blando family, the very foundation of their secrets.
The Light of Healing.
It was a secret book containing the spell formula for it.