Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 4 - Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

A Dazzling Family of Villains

After parting ways with Bernie and arriving in the rear garden, Monica found the Barrier Mage Louis Miller already leaning against a wall, waiting for her.

“You’re quite late, my fellow Sage,” he said.

“I’m sorry! Some things, um, happened…”

Louis was neatly dressed in his official Seven Sages robe, his staff in hand.

Coming in such obvious attire was probably meant as a deterrent. With one of the kingdom’s best mages present, and specifically one specializing in barrier techniques, any intruders would find it difficult to act.

“But, um… Is this okay?” she ventured. “His Majesty said to protect the prince, well, in secret, right?”

That was why Louis had originally sent the prince a magic item fitted with a defensive barrier, and why he’d sent Monica here as a student. And yet now he was boldly barging right into the academy.

As she wondered about this, Louis chuckled nasally. “It’s perfectly fine. I was officially invited to the festival, after all.”

Monica had assumed he’d applied for an invitation from the school, like Bernie, but apparently not. He was one of the more social members of the Seven Sages, so he probably had connections.

“In any case, my fellow Sage, you must have something important to discuss if you had to call me here, yes?”

Oh, right, she thought. I have to tell him about exposing my secret mission to the Abyss Shaman!

She looked down and played with her fingers before softly stammering her response. “Well, um, the Abyss Shaman, well, he’s near the academy, and…”

“Huh?” Louis furrowed his brow at the mention of a fellow Sage. “That shaman is just as much of a shut-in as you. I’m shocked he’s out and about. I figured he’d shrivel up like a prune if the sunlight touched him.”

He hadn’t shriveled up, but he had been making a fuss about the sunlight. So Louis was essentially right.

“My undercover mission, um…he found out about it! I’m…I’m really sorry!”

Louis’s eyebrow twitched, but he didn’t intimidate or threaten her. “What is his reason for coming all the way here?”

“Well, apparently one of House Albright’s shamanic tools…um, it ended up at Serendia Academy, so…”

After an abridged explanation of the Crimson Wrath, how it stole people’s peace of mind and how it wound up at the school, Louis lowered his gaze and put a hand to his mouth in thought. “Then we have a rather troublesome situation on our hands.”

“…Yes.”

“But this is also the perfect chance to put the Albrights in our debt. Let’s recover the item and have the Abyss Shaman help with protecting the prince while we’re at it.”

Monica was relieved; whatever the case, Louis wasn’t mad at her. Still, she found his boldness impressive. He was trying to gain favor with the Albrights even in a situation like this.

Recalling Ryn’s words about hair-covered hearts, Monica made her other report. “There’s one more thing I need to tell you, Mr. Louis…”

“Is it worse than a shamanic tool winding up at the academy?”

“Mr. Rutherford—er, from Minerva’s—is at the festival.”

“Geh!”

Louis’s speech was usually pompous and affected, but just now he’d croaked like a frog being stepped on. He grimaced, his displeasure obvious.

But there was a good reason even this hairy-hearted man was so ruffled. Professor Gideon Rutherford was Louis’s master.

“That old geezer…er, my master… He’s here…?”

Monica had belonged to Professor Rutherford’s laboratory, but he hadn’t actually instructed her. He’d simply let her do her own research. He wasn’t her master, just a former teacher. Louis, on the other hand, had learned about magical combat from him directly, and thus respected the man as his master.

Louis seemed to anguish over this news for a moment or two, but eventually he steeled himself and came to a decision. “Understood,” he said lowly. “I’ll draw his attention. You take advantage of his distraction to…”

“Okay.”

“…to use unchanted magecraft to kill him on the spot, and then we’ll bury him.” His eyes were serious.

“Um…what…?”

“My apologies. I lost my cool.” Louis took a slow breath and regained his normal, confident attitude. Then, something seemed to dawn on him, and he abruptly looked toward the faculty room. “Come to think of it, Mr. Macragan is here as well, isn’t he? And yet you say he hasn’t realized who you are.”

“Y-yes.”

Professor Macragan, who taught fundamental magecraft at Serendia Academy, was formerly a teacher at Minerva’s, and Monica had been one of his students there. But his eyesight was poor, and for the moment, it didn’t seem like he’d figured out she was the Silent Witch.

“How convenient. My master is old friends with Mr. Macragan… With both of them in the same place, they’re sure to have a long, protracted conversation over tea. We should try and orchestrate a meeting.”

Louis placed his hands on Monica’s thin shoulders. He had on his usual smile, but she thought his eyes looked a little bloodshot.

“So while I’m distracting my master… You get that shamanic tool back. Before I run out of patience.”

“…Y-yes, sir.”

Monica was too afraid to ask what would happen if his patience ran out.

According to Ray, the Crimson Wrath had been sold to someone at the academy. Significantly, he hadn’t given the family name of any one student, only the name of the school itself.

That meant it was likely the buyer wasn’t an individual student. One of the clubs had probably purchased it for the school festival, and there were only so many clubs that would need an accessory like that.

As student council accountant, Monica looked over the names and prices of all items being purchased, so she had a good guess as to where it might be. I’m almost certain…it will be part of a costume for the play.

In about an hour, students would put on a play using the outdoor stage. Flowery, gorgeous plays were the highlight of the festival. She’d heard the costumes would be just as elaborate and impressive as everything else.

The issue was how to go about checking them—and how she’d switch the real item with the fake once she found it.

Well, for now…I’ll hurry to the dressing room. If I don’t get there soon, they’ll start changing!

Monica rushed off. But just as she turned a corner in the hallway, she spotted one of her classmates—Lana—coming toward her. As usual, she sported a complex hairstyle and cute accessories. When she noticed Monica, she waved and ran over.

“Monica! I’ve been looking for you! …Oh, what’s that?” She looked at the white-rose decoration on Monica’s chest, then narrowed her eyes meaningfully—though what the gesture meant, Monica couldn’t guess. “Huh,” she mumbled. “Hmm. I see.”

“…? What’s the matter?” asked Monica, confused.

Lana put a hand to her mouth and giggled in delight. “I’ll get you looking nice and pretty for the ball. Look forward to it!”

Monica nodded vaguely, unable to follow. But then she remembered something. Lana was involved with the play’s costumes. Maybe she’d know about the accessory.

“Lana!” she cried, leaning forward. Her voice came out louder than she’d intended.

Lana’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wh-what? Why are you yelling?”

“Um, well, the costumes for today’s play… Is a, um, necklace with a red jewel part of any of them? With a black decorative frame and…” Monica trailed off, worried whether that would be enough explanation.

Lana nodded easily. “That would be Queen Amelia’s necklace. What about it?”

She knew Lana would remember. She remembered everything when it came to clothes. So the shamanic tool will be worn by the person playing Amelia… If Monica was going to swap them out, she’d have to move now—before the play started.

“Lana, um…have the actors started changing into their costumes yet?”

“Oh, they’re already finished.”

“Huh?! B-but there’s still an hour left!”

Lana sighed at Monica’s shock. “There’s only an hour left. Of course they’re already finished. They don’t have to put on just their costumes—they have to do their makeup and hair. Especially the one playing the queen. She’ll take the longest.”

Monica barely needed any time to dress herself in the morning, so she hadn’t even considered that. Highborn girls took a long time to get ready. Especially if they were going onstage.

The queen’s actress is already wearing it… I have to hurry and get it back!

“Hey, Monica,” said Lana. “My father’s carriage is going to arrive soon, so I wanted to go out and greet him. Would you like to come with me? I want to introduce him to you.”

Apparently, that was why Lana had been looking for her. Unfortunately, Monica had a very important mission to attend to. “Um, I’m sorry. I actually have something to do…”

“Student council work? Will it be done by the time the play starts?”

Monica gave a little nod—she knew Lana wanted to watch it with her.

“…Yeah. I’ll make sure it is,” she said, half to herself, before quietly clenching her gloved fists. Lana had supervised the costumes, and Monica knew exactly how much she was looking forward to the play.

I won’t let it be ruined, she told herself.

Getting the item back before the curtains rose—that was her current mission as the Silent Witch, Monica Everett.

…Or so Monica told herself as she headed for the play’s green room. But just as she was about to knock on the door, she stopped short. There was still one problem.

I know where it is now, but how do I make the switch? Ask her to take it off so I can see it for a moment? But I’m not part of the play or anything, so if I barge in and say something like that, they’ll just be suspicious… And besides, I don’t know who’s playing the queen, so what should I do…?

Nero and Ryn were protecting Felix while she retrieved the item, so she couldn’t ask them for help. Louis was busy holding Mr. Rutherford at bay. Monica was going to have to figure this one out herself.

As she racked her brain, her collaborator’s words came to mind.

“Today we are partners! I’ll be your perfect backup. You can count on me for support!”

If she wanted Isabelle’s help, she only had to touch her left ear. Her left hand reached up unconsciously, but she held it down with her right. I can’t. This involves Albright family secrets. I can’t tell Lady Isabelle about it.

The only time she could rely on Isabelle was if her identity was about to be revealed while she was guarding the prince. She couldn’t ask her for anything else.

What should I do…?

Monica broke out into a cold sweat.

With her unchanted magecraft, Monica could shoot down dragons without saying a word. But when it came to negotiating, she was completely powerless.

If someone had asked the old Monica to do this, she’d have started crying and run away, thinking it impossible. Now, at least, she could rally herself. She knew she had to do something to get the dangerous item back.

But she couldn’t get any further than that. There was a problem before her she needed to solve, and she had no idea where to begin.

As the words what should I do? swirled around and around in her head, time continued to pass. At this rate, the play would start.

What should I do, what should I do, what should I do…? she thought, standing there at a loss.

Then she heard the sharp click of a heel behind her—and the sound of something flapping open. She knew that sound. Someone had flipped open a folding fan.

“Ohhh-ho-ho-ho!”

At this confident, high-pitched laugh, Monica whipped around to look behind her. And there she was—the self-professed villainess, Isabelle Norton, smiling with her fan spread out before her.

“L-Lady…Isabelle…,” Monica stammered.

Isabelle brushed back her orange curls and, in an arrogant tone befitting a villainess, said, “What in the world are you doing, hanging about a place like this? You’re meant to carry my things, remember? Come along, now!”

She twirled back around, but not before giving Monica a little wink. From anyone else’s point of view, it would look like a mean-spirited young lady was bossing around a weak-willed little girl. But to Monica, Isabelle’s slender back as she walked in front of her was the most reliable thing she could imagine.

Once they’d moved to a hallway where guests were not allowed, Isabelle withdrew her evil smile and meekly bowed to Monica.

“I’m sorry for acting out, dear sister,” she said. “It just…seemed like you were troubled by something.”

She had probably seen Monica raise her left hand, then push it back down, realized she was wondering whether to ask for help, and called out to her.

“A villainess mustn’t let weakened prey out of her grasp, after all.”

And so, this reliable villainess had secretly reached out a helping hand to a vulnerable young lady.

“Lady Isabelle, I… Well…”

As Monica wondered whether she should explain the situation, Isabelle shook her head to indicate that no further words were necessary. “It is fine if you can’t tell me what’s happening,” she said. “We may not be able to assist you, but we can listen. However small your worries or big your troubles… We all want to help.”

I’m so lucky to have her, thought Monica. Whenever she was in a pinch or she found herself stopping, unsure of what to do, a hand would always reach out to help. She was beyond grateful.

Swearing that she would never forget Isabelle’s goodwill or any of the kindness others had shown her, Monica slowly began.

“I can’t tell you the details, but… The actress for Queen Amelia is wearing a necklace that is actually very dangerous. I’d like to secretly switch it with this fake.” She took the duplicate necklace out of her pocket.

Isabelle gave it a close look, then nodded. “Ah, I understand… Agatha!”

She received an immediate reply from the maid, who had been keeping an eye out to make sure nobody was listening. “Yes, my lady?”

“Bring a ruby necklace here from my room. The one from Anmel with the small diamonds surrounding the gem.” Isabelle delivered these instructions quickly before looking at Monica with a smile. It was a firm, reliable smile, one of the sweetest she’d ever seen. “You can leave it in our hands, my sister! I will resolve this issue in a dazzling manner befitting a villainess!”

Less than an hour remained until the play. The actors, now all in costume, were gathered in the large green room, awaiting the beginning of the show.

Eliane Hyatt, the daughter of Duke Rehnberg and the actress who would be playing Queen Amelia, sat in front of a dresser in the room’s corner and gazed at herself in the mirror.

In its glass, she saw a pretty young girl with bluish-gray eyes and soft light-brown hair. She was wearing a dress for the play, though it had no pannier to expand and raise the skirt; it hung straight around her, like a robe, with flowers blossoming out from the hem.

It was a beautiful dress, but Eliane knew it would look better on a taller, more mature woman.

Someone like Bridget Greyham, with her gorgeous features and thick blond hair, or perhaps Claudia Ashley, with her black locks and mystical beauty.

Along with Bridget and Claudia, Eliane was considered one of the three most beautiful girls at the academy. Compared to them, however, Eliane looked like a child. She’d always been secretly worried she didn’t measure up.

Eliane was a first-year in the advanced course, Claudia a second-year, and Bridget a third-year. As the youngest, she supposed her childish looks were only natural.

But both Bridget and Claudia had possessed an unparalleled charisma even during their time in the intermediate course.

As the daughter of an ambassador, Bridget was skilled in foreign languages. She was popular in high society and an exceptional pick for student council secretary.

Claudia was a full-blood descendant of the Lineage of the Wise and had a superb mind to prove it; she’d even represented the school in the chess competition the year before.

While Eliane had learned a fair bit about music and magecraft as part of her education, none of her talents was as striking as theirs.

The reason she, with only her cute looks to speak of, could be a part of their number was her distant relation to royalty—she was a second cousin to the second prince.

But I know how everyone feels deep down, she thought. Bridget or Claudia would have been much more suited for the role of Queen Amelia.

That day’s play told the story of the hero Ralph, the founder and first king of Ridill. Eliane was playing the part of Queen Amelia, the one who supported him.

The queen was said to be a strong, wise, and above all proud woman. The girl in the mirror, however, was a far cry from that image, no matter how much makeup she caked on or how mature her dress. She didn’t need anyone else to tell her—it was painfully obvious.

Perhaps because of her mood, her tiara and necklace felt awfully heavy. As she looked at them, both the gorgeous golden tiara and the beautiful necklace with its decorative black frame seemed less and less like they belonged on her. She felt herself grow irritated.

Oh, how annoying. I hate this. If only the prince had agreed to play Ralph…

When the time came to choose Ralph’s actor, the first person on everyone’s mind had been the second prince, Felix Arc Ridill. Eliane had wanted the prince to play the role as well.

But he’d claimed he was too busy with student council affairs and quickly dropped out of the running. Eliane had attempted to use her charms to convince him, but he’d refused to give in.

If I am to play the queen, who but him can be king? After all, am I not the most suited for him?

Her head hurt. It felt like it was being slowly compressed. Her vision narrowed and began to flash red. It was probably her irritation and nerves driving her crazy.

Oh, I hate this. I hate it. Why does nothing ever go my way?

In the corner of her vision, she saw the boy who would be playing Ralph. Why wasn’t it Felix?

I hate it. I hate it. Oh, I hate it so much…

As she unconsciously balled her fists in her lap, she heard a voice from the green room’s entrance.

“Ohhh-ho-ho-ho! Good day to you all!”

It was a much higher, prouder laugh than even the actors could have managed, prompting Eliane to turn around in spite of herself. The others did the same, looking wide-eyed toward the source of the sound.

A figure with curled orange hair stood before the door—Isabelle Norton, the daughter of Count Kerbeck. Eliane recognized the girl as one of her classmates.

Accompanying Isabelle was a short girl with light-brown hair, fidgeting restlessly. Oh, she’s on the student council… Yes, the accountant. Monica Norton. Eliane had heard of her, too. She was the lackluster country girl from House Norton who had been appointed student council accountant due to her immense talent with numbers.

Eliane didn’t want much to do with either of them. Isabelle’s father, Count Kerbeck, was an influential noble with a lot of military power, even among the eastern Ridillian lords. He’d helped many other nobles with dragonraids, and Eliane’s father, Duke Rehnberg, was no exception. Their territories didn’t neighbor each other, but they were relatively close.

In the end, Isabelle was, to Eliane, both someone who stood out more than she did and someone she had to take care not to offend—a real thorn in her side.

As for Monica, she’d been made a student council member despite her common birth, and she saw Felix every day. What more reason did Eliane need to dislike the girl?

But Eliane tucked all that away as she stood and turned to face Isabelle. “Good day, Lady Isabelle,” she said, maintaining a classy smile. “I don’t believe you’re part of this play. Did you need something from someone?”

“I heard you were all busy behind the scenes, so I’ve come to see if there was anything I could help with,” said Isabelle, sounding for all the world like she wished to be of service. “Should you need assistance, please don’t hesitate to ask. After all, my family’s servant currently has nothing to do.” Hostility crept into her voice as she said the last sentence and glanced at Monica.

Isabelle probably didn’t like that the family outcast was enjoying the school festival without a care. She must be planning to assign her odd jobs and then laugh at her.

My, my. What a distasteful hobby, thought Eliane.

She could give Monica some errands like Isabelle wanted, but it would damage her reputation. The better choice would be to gently turn down Isabelle’s offer and show empathy toward Monica. Then everyone around her would believe she was a kindhearted young lady.

“Lady Isabelle,” she began, “I know you’ve gone out of your way to offer, but we have enough people helping backstage already…”

Just then, in the middle of her sentence, a strong gust of wind blew in from the window they had open for ventilation. Eliane’s soft hair swayed and caught on a decoration on her necklace. She quickly tugged at it, but the small chain snapped. The necklace fell to the floor with a clack, red gemstone and all.

Both the breeze that had blown in from the window and the sharp gust that had severed the chain had been the work of the girl behind Isabelle. She had used unchanted magecraft, but Eliane had no way of knowing that.

“Eek!” she yelped. “Oh no! The necklace…”

Before Eliane could gather it, Isabelle quickly scooped it up. “Oh, how awful!” she exclaimed. “Your necklace is broken! And there’s no time left before the play!”

Eliane couldn’t tell exactly how the chain was damaged because Isabelle’s hand was hiding it.

But Isabelle looked down at the necklace and said, with a serious expression, “This is going to take some time to fix.”

“That can’t be! Queen Amelia can’t appear without a necklace!” cried Eliane, panicking.

Isabelle offered her a gentle smile meant to calm her down, then removed the necklace from her own neck and handed it to her. “In that case, use mine. It’s goldwork, made in the famous workshops of Anmel. I can guarantee its quality.” The necklace she held out was beautiful, a ruby inlaid in a gold frame with small diamond drops all around it. “I believe this one will be much more fitting for you, Lady Eliane,” she said, gently fastening its chain around the girl’s neck.

The gold chain was tinged with pink to soften its color, which went very well with Eliane’s complexion. This isn’t too bad…, she thought.

As Eliane vacillated, Isabelle looked down at the broken necklace in her hands and said, “And, if I may say so, this one looks rather…childish, don’t you think?”

Looking childish—that was one of Eliane’s complexes. Isabelle had appealed perfectly to her weakness, and she responded immediately. “Y-yes. Indeed. You may be right… You won’t mind if I borrow this necklace for the play?”

“Not at all. I’m honored to have been of help!”

Isabelle smiled sweetly. Then, as if a thought had just struck her, she looked at Monica and curled the corners of her lips into a sadistic grin. “Be happy, servant. I have a task for you.”

“Huh?! Um, um…”

As Monica fidgeted at this sudden attention, Isabelle passed her the broken piece of jewelry. “Fix this necklace. And you may not attend either the festival or the ball until it’s finished… Understood?”

As Isabelle pushed the broken necklace into Monica’s hands, she gave the girl a wink only she could see.

Monica’s lips trembled in admiration. Lady Isabelle is amazing…! she thought. She’d been so worried about how to recover the necklace, but Isabelle’s villainess act had delivered it right into her hands.

Floored by the girl’s quick wit, Monica hung her head, trying not to let others see the look on her face. Meekly, she accepted the necklace.

“I, um, I’ll go fix it…right now!”

Silently thanking Isabelle in her heart, Monica headed back out of the green room. Now I just have to give this to the Abyss Shaman, bring the duplicate necklace back to the costume team, and the problem will be solved!

Recovering the shamanic tool had gone so smoothly that something rather important had slipped completely from her memory.

“Hey. You there, miss. Do you have a moment?”

…She’d stopped watching out for a certain person she couldn’t afford to run into—her former teacher Gideon Rutherford.

Louis had gone to search for his master right after parting ways with Monica in the rear garden. Rutherford would stand out in his mage’s robe and should be easy to find.

Or so Louis had thought. Unfortunately, the Serendia Academy campus was huge, and it was proving difficult to spot him.

He would have liked to have Ryn’s help with the search, but Monica couldn’t protect the prince while recovering the shamanic tool, so the maid had to focus on guarding him instead.

Louis walked quickly, ruminating on his master’s usual behavior. Knowing him, he’ll take a look at all the exhibits related to magecraft, then find a place without too many people around and smoke to his heart’s content. Then he’ll go to the faculty room to meet his old friend Mr. Macragan.

And so Louis headed for the largest exhibit room—but unfortunately, Rutherford was nowhere in sight. Then he remembered the card he’d received at reception and took it out of his pocket. On it, there was a map to the magic history research club’s exhibit. Apparently, they had a lot of data, so they were exhibiting in a separate room.

On a hunch, Louis followed the directions on the card and made his way to the clubroom. When he arrived, an older, white-haired man was just leaving. It was him—the Mage of Violet Smoke himself.

“I must say, that was some truly fascinating research,” he said. “I’ll suggest a joint publication between Minerva’s and Serendia at the next faculty meeting.”

“Ha-ha. I’m honored to hear that, sir.”

After a chubby boy saw him off with a breathy laugh, Rutherford started down the hallway.

Louis was just a bit too far to call out and stop him, so instead, he quickly walked over. That was when he saw Monica standing right in front of his master. Louis grimaced.

Monica seemed to be heading outside; maybe she’d recovered the cursed tool. She probably hadn’t noticed Rutherford approaching.

Right then, an idea formed in Louis’s mind: deliver a flying kick to his master’s head and confuse the situation. A brilliant plan, he thought, mentally patting himself on the back.

He wanted to execute it immediately, but as a Sage, he couldn’t afford to cause any violent incidents at the academy. So instead, praying his master wouldn’t notice Monica, Louis ran.

“Hey. You there, miss. Do you have a moment?”

Clutching the curse-imbued necklace to her chest, Monica froze at the voice behind her. She knew that voice. She’d heard it many times back at Minerva’s.

It’s… It’s Mr. Rutherford!

She must have run into him before Louis could find him and stop him. This was bad. Really bad.

Monica touched her left ear out of reflex. Unfortunately, Isabelle was still in the green room. She wouldn’t be able to act right away.

Do… Do I run away? But if he sees me running, he’ll know for sure it’s me…! She was so bad at anything to do with exercise that her plodding excuse for “running” would easily give her away. She could hear him now: “Even from afar, I could tell it was you immediately.”

“Where might the faculty room—?”

But before Rutherford could finish his question, a hand reached out from the side and grabbed Monica’s; the small palm belonged to a boy.

“You’re late!” a high-pitched voice scolded her. “How dare you make me wait. What nerve!”

Monica’s eyes widened as she looked at the person who had grabbed her. The boy had black hair and wore expensive clothing, like the son of a noble family. He was probably eleven or twelve. And now he was glaring at her, his eyes wide with anger.

…Huh? Huh?! Who’s this?! Monica searched her memory, but the boy was nowhere to be found. She didn’t have any acquaintances his age anyway, so if she did know him, she’d remember.

As Monica panicked, the boy pulled on her hand. He was walking quickly, heading outside. “Didn’t you promise to show me around the intermediate building?! Quickly, now! Mother is waiting!”

“Huh? Um, r-right…,” she stammered, hastening away from the scene.

From behind her, she heard Louis’s voice calling out to Rutherford. “Master! It’s been ages!” Apparently, he’d found the man in the nick of time.

I think, um, I’m saved… But… She had no time to sigh in relief as she looked toward the boy pulling her along.

But who is he?!

The black-haired mystery boy pulled her out of the advanced building and into an empty garden near the intermediate building. Then he took a careful look around, finally spotting someone else. His face lit up.

“Mother!”

He ran over to a woman holding a parasol. She looked a bit under forty. Her orange hair was done up in a classy style, and she wore a deep red dress that complemented her slender frame.

“U-um, I, um…,” stammered Monica nervously.

The woman smiled. It was a pretty expression, elegant but playful—and Monica immediately recognized it.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Silent Witch—Lady Monica Everett. I am Sylvia Norton, wife of Azure Norton, the Count of Kerbeck.”

“And I’m her son, Henry Norton. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Silent Witch!” The boy who had dragged her here lost his impudent expression and greeted her with a youthful but noble carriage.

Monica’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “Then, um, that means you’re Lady Isabelle’s…”

“Mother, yes.”

“And little brother!”

Monica then realized why Isabelle had placed her family at the intermediate building. It was because of her brother, Henry. If they said he was looking into possibly enrolling, then the Norton family wouldn’t seem out of place.

Henry, for his part, practically had visible sparkles in his eyes. His expression was quite similar to his older sister’s. “Um! Excuse me, Lady Silent Witch… Please, may I call you my elder sister?!”

This, too, was almost the exact same thing Isabelle had said to her when they first met.

Monica nodded, her face tense. Henry’s cheeks flushed crimson, and he smiled from the bottom of his heart. “I’ve always wanted to meet you, my sister! I always get so jealous whenever Isabelle sends me letters about how things are going! I wanted to help you during today’s school festival, so I practiced a whole bunch for my role as a villainous noble brat!”

But why? Was that really necessary? wondered Monica. In fact, she was extremely doubtful there was any need for Isabelle to act like a villainess in the first place. She figured Louis had told her something like, At a school for nobles, I can only imagine the Silent Witch playing the role of bullied child. Ha-ha-ha. Monica’s eyes grew distant as she imagined her colleague’s evil laughter.

Meanwhile, Henry looked up at her, gaze filled with anticipation. “Did I do a good job playing the villain, my sister?”

His performance had come off more as a normal boy going through a rebellious phase than an actual villain. But she found it hard to be so honest—especially with his eyes sparkling like that.

Monica chose her words carefully. “Um, well, you really saved me. Thank you very much…”

“I’m honored to have been of help!”

From behind the happy-looking Henry, his mother, Sylvia, chided him. “Now, Henry. We mustn’t bother the Silent Witch and keep her from her mission any further.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Henry backed down. Sylvia turned to Monica and said, “Please don’t hesitate to call upon us whenever you need, Silent Witch. Should anyone attempt to obstruct your path, they shall find themselves twisted around the little finger of this villainous madame.”

She tilted her parasol slightly, casting a shadow over her face and lending a good deal of ghastliness to her smile. Just as Isabelle carefully calculated the motions of her fan, this self-professed “villainous madame” had perfect control over her prop. She was a true actress.

Monica awkwardly thanked them and left, wondering why in the world this family had such a weird obsession with villains.

Once the frighteningly reliable mother-son villain pair had bid Monica farewell, she left the garden and headed off campus.

She spotted Ray immediately. The Abyss Shaman had moved almost imperceptibly closer to the school since their meeting that morning; he was now muttering to some mushrooms growing at the base of a tree.

“Ah, mushrooms. How wonderful. So full of life… I envy that life… I envy it so much…”

So he’s even envious of mushrooms, thought Monica, coming up behind him.

“Excuse me, um, Abyss Shaman?” she said hesitantly.

Ray gave a start and turned to look at her, his pale fingers still covering his face. And then he began to rattle off excuses, sounding like he was about to cry. “Please wait! You’re wrong. I promise, you’re wrong. I know it’s not right to leave everything to you, so I’ve been doing my best to think of ways to get into the academy…” His throat clenched as he formed an uncanny smile; his pink eyes glowed from behind his pale fingers. “And I came up with something… I could simply curse Serendia Academy and have mushrooms grow all over it. If it was covered in mushrooms, even I’d be able to walk in normally… Anyway, I’m about to curse the school, so please just wait a moment…”

Cursing the school to save it from a cursed item seemed a little backward to Monica, and as he began to chant, she hastily stopped him. “Um! Um, I, uh, I got the item back!” she declared, taking the Crimson Wrath out from her pocket and handing it to him.

Overcome with emotion, he opened his pink eyes wide, and his pale lips trembled. “Th-thank you. Thank you so much… I’m saved…!”

Ray plucked the necklace from her hands with slender fingers, then quickly chanted something resembling a magecraft incantation. Anyone who had studied magecraft, however, would know that wasn’t what it was. Shamanic spells were an entirely separate entity.

When he finished his chant, the purple seal on his finger seemed to grow out from his body like a tree root, extending and twisting into the air. Monica drew in a breath as she watched it engulf the Crimson Wrath’s red gemstone.

A moment later, the branch-like seal ballooned to several times its size. It was like watching a snake swallow a large frog whole. Ray’s shamanic seal had eaten the curse placed on the item.

“Curse retrieval complete…”

Ray’s fingers came away from the item, and the gemstone, once bloodred, had become a dull reddish brown.

Monica wasn’t familiar with curses and shamanic techniques, but she guessed Ray had used his seal to absorb the curse embedded within the stone into his own body.

Ray, who had more than two hundred curses already residing inside him, acted as if nothing had happened, even after absorbing the Crimson Wrath. As usual, he seemed about to keel over as he happily complained, “Oh, thank goodness. I can go home… I’m so tired…”

“Um, are you leaving now, then?” asked Monica.

“Yes. I have the item, and if I stay in such a radiant place any longer, I am liable to melt away… Cause of death: too much radiance… Yes, a fitting death for a shaman, indeed… It would be spoken of for generations…”

This seemed like an especially novel way to die, and Monica wasn’t sure how to respond. But eventually, she rallied herself and exclaimed, “Um, Abyss Shaman!” causing his shoulders to jolt.

She leaned forward a little and continued. “The festival is really amazing, you know. The magic history research club has a splendid presentation… Oh, and it mentions your family, the Albrights, too! And there’s a big outdoor play. My friend is involved with the costumes… Um, and there’s a lot of really tasty food, so… Um…”

Monica was winded after this lengthy explanation, but she clenched her fists and squeezed out the rest. “So I’d love it if you could, um…maybe enjoy the festival, too. Even just a little…”

Ray had insisted he didn’t fit in at Serendia Academy. But to be honest, Monica had thought the same about herself when she first arrived—that it was wrong for her to be here, that she just wanted to go home.

And yet after spending time at the school and helping prepare for the festival, she now had a real desire for everyone to enjoy the event.

“I, um, I-I’m sorry for saying something weird…,” she stammered. “I-I’ll be going now, gooph-bye!”

She bowed quickly to Ray and turned around. She had to get back to school to guard Felix—and to make this festival a success as a Serendia Academy student.

Ray watched as Monica awkwardly trotted away, a dazed look on his face. Once she was out of sight, he turned his back to the school and started walking. After a few steps, he stopped and glanced behind him.

Then, several steps later, he stopped again—and again.

Once he’d repeated this about ten times, he pulled his robe’s hood deep over his eyes and began to cross the sunlit stretch toward Serendia Academy.

“I must say, it has been a while, Master Rutherford! What a coincidence, running into you here like this!” Louis squeezed every ounce of feigned politeness he could muster into his voice and expression.

Rutherford furrowed his wild brows and looked at the other man with suspicion. “What are you plotting?”

“Oh, what a harsh question to ask a pupil you haven’t seen in so long.”

Rutherford took out his pipe and snorted. The old man was a master at intimidation. “Aren’t you part of the first prince’s faction? The second prince is on Serendia’s student council… Surely you’re not plotting some kind of assassination, right?”

Resisting the urge to reply, Unfortunately, I’m here to protect him, Louis smiled and said, “Actually, my pupil attends this school. I’m here to inspect his progress.”

“Your pupil… You mean that brat who blew up my lab when he lost control of his mana?”

“The very one! He’s a full-fledged apprentice now.”

Even as Louis spoke, Rutherford seemed to be looking off into the distance—in the direction the Norton boy had pulled Monica.

“What’s the matter, Master?” he asked. “Is something bothering you?”

“No, it’s just that I saw a girl who looked a lot like Everett a few moments ago.”

As Louis had thought, the man was on the cusp of sniffing out the Silent Witch. You’re too damn sharp for your own good, you old geezer, he thought to himself before further brightening his voice. “You must be imagining things. The Silent Witch is a dyed-in-the-wool shut-in, after all.”

“So she’s still shutting herself away, even as a Sage…” Rutherford scratched at his short white hair, then turned to glare at Louis. “She’s your colleague, yes? Be a little more considerate toward her.”

Louis’s smile slipped at his master’s criticism. What did this old man want from him anyway? “I’m not her guardian, nor am I her friend. Her personality is none of my business, so long as she does her job properly.”

The Silent Witch was both shy and inhuman. She was a creepy little girl who saw people as nothing more than a bunch of numbers.

But what did that matter? She was a true genius. Even Louis could see her talent. Wasn’t that enough?

Louis might nitpick, telling her to act or dress more like a human or to spend some time learning how to hold a conversation, but deep down, he didn’t really expect anything from her. He simply wasn’t that interested.

“That’s all a colleague is, don’t you think?”

Louis smiled dispassionately, and Rutherford jutted out his bottom lip in a scowl, wrinkling his nose. He looked truly disgusted.