Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 6 - Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

A Distressing Invitation from a Midnight Visitor

Huberd Dee woke up and cracked his eyes open to get a look at his surroundings.

He was lying not on an infirmary bed but on a cot that had been brought into the fundamental magecraft classroom. When someone lost a lot of mana during a magic battle, there was a risk of developing mana deficiency. Since all the tools needed to deal with this condition were in the fundamental magecraft classroom, he’d been brought there instead.

Or maybe they’d purposely put him in a different room from the others to avoid a fight breaking out between him and his opponents.

Professor William Macragan sat at a table a short distance away, polishing the gemstone on his staff. Huberd knew Macragan’s eyes were bad, so as soon as the man’s back was turned, he quietly got up and snuck toward the hallway.

“You should stop meddling in Everett’s affairs,” said the old professor. “She’s one of the Seven Sages now.”

Huberd paused in front of the door and turned to look back at Macragan. He was still facing away, polishing his staff.

“Mr. Macragan, are you working with the Silent Witch?” asked Huberd.

“We happened to end up in the same place, so I’m just watching over her. If a Sage is concealing her identity, I’m sure she has an important reason. And it’s not my place to meddle.”

Though Monica didn’t seem to care much about such things, the Seven Sages were the most powerful mages in the kingdom, and direct advisers to the king. They all held the special title of count of magic, giving them a very high social rank. Their words carried the same weight as a high noble’s. Monica Everett was a far more powerful person than Huberd or Macragan.

Though Macragan was only watching over her for now, if Huberd caused more problems for her, the professor would probably step in.

“Well, that stinks,” he said. “If I can’t play with the Silent Witch, I’ll die of boredom before I can graduate.”

“Or you could take your studies more seriously.”

“I wouldn’t mind going up against you, Mr. Macragan.”

William Macragan, the Waterbite Mage, was a former teacher at Minerva’s. Huberd had taken a combat training class with him. He knew the man was more than capable.

“Now, no bullying your elders,” replied Macragan. “By the way, did you use any big spells to send your opponents flying?”

“Pfft. I don’t have the mana for something like that.”

“That’s right. Your mana capacity isn’t very high. Then were Ashley and the others next to you while they were unconscious?”

“Well, yeah. Why?”

If Macragan was asking that, did it mean one of the losers hadn’t been found yet? Either way, Huberd didn’t care what happened to them. He shrugged, then headed out.

He’d barely recovered any of his mana, and he was still in awful condition. But he walked through the halls with the same gait he always did. Outside, the sun had almost gone down, and the chilly night air was beginning to make its way past the windowpanes.

A little ways down the dim hall, Huberd ran into someone blocking his path.

“Good day.”

It was a charming noble girl with orange curls. A young maidservant waited behind her.

Huberd knew this girl’s name—she was Isabelle Norton, daughter of Count Kerbeck, the most important noble in Ridill’s eastern provinces.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Huberd Dee. My name is Isabelle Norton.” Isabelle curtsied and smiled politely.

During the duel, she’d been doing her best to keep people away from the woods and had been sending them back to the school building. If Monica had to go to the battleground, Isabelle didn’t want anyone stopping and questioning her.

Isabelle felt responsible for Monica running into Huberd. She had underestimated how crafty and wicked he was. After the duel was scheduled, she had seen Monica grow weaker every day, and each time they met, Isabelle’s chest tightened even further.

“Hm, hm, hmmm? Isabelle Norton. Count Kerbeck’s daughter, right? …Come to think of it, Monica’s cover name is Norton, too.”

Huberd looked down at Isabelle with a dismissive stare as his lips twisted into an evil grin.

“I get it,” he said. “You’re helping her. Well, Kerbeck does owe a lot to the Silent Witch, I suppose.”

“I’m glad I don’t have to explain,” said Isabelle. “In truth… I had something to discuss with you.”

“You want me to help the Silent Witch on her mission?”

That should be obvious, said Isabelle to herself, keeping her tone polite and level. “I would like you to cease interfering with the Silent Witch’s mission.”

Her tone was refined, but essentially, she’d just told him to stay out of Monica’s way.

Huberd shrugged like he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Well, that stinks. I really love Monica, you know. I just can’t help myself.”

“Oh, how envious that makes me. I, too, love the Silent Witch, and yet here I am, holding back tears and pretending to be a villainess.” Abruptly, her tone changed from cute and sulky to sweet and venomous. “My mother has a bit of a relationship with your family,” she said. “Specifically, with your mother.”

Huberd chanted a spell. He probably intended to threaten Isabelle with attack magecraft. But before he could finish chanting, Agatha stepped out from behind her mistress and strode up to him.

Huberd stopped chanting. Agatha’s hand, flattened into a chopping shape, was stopped just in front of his throat.

He whistled, impressed. “She’s pretty dangerous, huh?”

“Agatha doubles as my bodyguard.”

Magecraft was powerful, but all you had to do to counter it was strike before your opponent finished chanting. And if you could take out their throat, a mage would be done for. Agatha understood all that and acted accordingly.

From behind her fan, Isabelle carefully watched Huberd’s expression. Even with the maid’s hand at his throat, he was grinning. Isabelle was sure—this was a boy who treasured nothing and thus felt no fear. Most threats would be ineffectual. But Isabelle wasn’t about to let that discourage her.

In cases like this, she just had to be annoying. A real pain in the butt.

“Can you promise me you won’t do anything to disadvantage the Silent Witch?” she asked.

“If I refuse, I suppose you’ll drive me out of Serendia Academy, right?”

“You must be joking.” Isabelle narrowed her eyes and assumed an icy tone. “I’ll drive you right out of the entire kingdom.”

That wasn’t an empty threat. Count Kerbeck could manage it.

The expression disappeared from Huberd’s face. His cold gaze said one thing: What a nuisance.

Isabelle didn’t flinch. She stared right back at him. She didn’t care if his malice transferred from Monica onto her. In fact, she’d prefer that. She’d made an oath back when the Silent Witch had saved her and her people—that she’d do anything to help her.

“I’m prepared to make use of my authority,” Isabelle continued. “If you bring any harm to the Silent Witch, I shall do everything in my power to make your life miserable.”

“…Quite the annoying little princess, eh?”

“Oh, my! As a villainess, I can think of no greater compliment.”

Isabelle flashed him an especially elegant smile. A villainess had to be bold, brazen, and above all, annoying.

As Monica tossed and turned in bed, her nose twitched.

She could smell herbs and medicine mixed into the cold night air. This wasn’t the smell of her musty attic dorm but of the infirmary.

Sadly, Monica had been here several times since coming to Serendia Academy, thanks to all the incidents she’d gotten caught up in. By now, she knew its scent well.

She could hear soft voices from beside the candlestand. It was probably Felix and the middle-aged doctor.

“…Mr. Macragan sent out a familiar, but they still haven’t been found.”

Felix’s voice was low and tense. What does he mean? Who hasn’t been found? wondered Monica, still lying in bed.

“In that case,” the doctor said gravely, “I’ll stay here for a while in case I’m needed.”

“Thank you. When Miss Norton wakes up, tell her to go back to her dorm right away.” With that, Felix hastened out of the infirmary.

Something had definitely happened. Monica waited in bed for a while, not moving, but once she could no longer hear Felix’s footsteps, she squirmed into a sitting position.

“Um…,” she said.

“Oh, you’re awake?” asked the doctor.

The elderly man was well-built but soft-spoken. Monica had been in his care several times now, and she wasn’t too scared of him.

Nervously, she asked, “What happened, um, with the duel?”

“Huberd Dee lost control of his magical items, and the duel was called off,” the doctor explained. “Everyone involved is resting up in their dorms.”

It seemed Monica’s intervention had gone unnoticed. But she was still curious about what Felix had said. She looked up at the doctor searchingly, and he turned away toward the window.

“It’s already dark. You should get back to your room, too.”

The doctor was right; the sun had already set, and it was pitch-black outside. The other students had probably all gone home by now. Monica borrowed a lantern from the doctor and left the infirmary.

What should I do? If Nero or Miss Ryn were here, I could send them out to look, but… Nero was still hibernating, and it had been a while since Ryn had paid her a visit.

Monica would just have to gather information on her own.

She plodded back to the girls’ dormitories, where she was greeted by a very worried Lana. Monica hadn’t seen her since leaving the student council room, so she couldn’t blame her friend for being anxious.

“Are you okay, Monica?” she asked.

“Yep. I’m, um, sorry for worrying you… Um, how are Glenn and the others?”

“According to Prince Felix, they’re already recuperating in their rooms. I’m worried about them, but we have two days off starting tomorrow. I’m sure they’ll be all better by the time classes resume.”

Lana was trying to cheer Monica up, but she didn’t seem to be hiding anything. The rest of the student body probably hadn’t been told. After a short chat with Lana, Monica headed back to her room.

Nero was curled up in his basket, still sleeping.

“…Nero, I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling about this,” she murmured, collapsing onto her bed beside his basket.

She’d just woken up, but as soon as she lay down, she started feeling drowsy again. Her body was exhausted. It still needed rest.

“Oh, Nero, I hope you wake up soon…,” she mumbled, then she drifted off to sleep.

Clunk. Clunk. Monica woke up to the sound of someone rapping on her window.

It was pitch-black outside. She figured it must be just past midnight.

A figure was visible through the curtainless window. Wondering if it was Ryn, Monica got out of bed—then her eyes widened. The visitor was not who she’d expected.

“Apologies for showing up so late,” said the man as he entered her room.

His chestnut hair was in a long braid, and he wore a monocle—it was Monica’s colleague, the Barrier Mage Louis Miller.

He wasn’t carrying his staff today, and he’d eschewed his robes for more practical clothing and a winter coat made of leather.

Standing at the window, he used a quick-chant to light a candle. “My fellow Sage,” he said quietly, “would you like the simple explanation or the more detailed—and more troublesome—one?”

Louis was clearly unhappy. Monica could sense that he really didn’t want to explain whatever it was in great detail.

She sat down on her bed. Her gaze drifted, and she began fidgeting with her fingers. “Um, then, um, the simple one…”

Louis nodded as if to say good, then pushed his monocle up with a fingertip, assuming the air of an intellectual. “We need to go hang a huge moron, so get ready to leave.”

“Um, uh, actually, um, could you give me the detailed explanation, please…?” pleaded Monica.

Louis nodded, clearly annoyed, then sat down on the window frame and crossed his legs. Her attic room wasn’t much warmer than outside, and each breath Louis took created a white puff of air that gradually melted into the darkness.

“I’ll go in order, then. There was a magic battle at this academy today, was there not?”

“There, um, there was…”

“Mr. Macragan called me here to help maintain the barrier for it.”

Glenn, Louis’s apprentice, had participated in the duel as well. Glenn had a high mana capacity, and he’d lost control once before. According to Louis, that was why Macragan had summoned him—he was both Glenn’s master and excellent with barrier techniques. Macragan used to teach at Minerva’s, and Louis had been his student there, so he’d accepted the request without a second thought.

“When the battle was over, I decided to go pick up my idiot apprentice after his unsightly defeat… But when I arrived, the only ones there were Huberd Dee and Robert Winkel.”

“…Huh?”

“Glenn and the son of Marquess Highown, Cyril Ashley, were nowhere in sight.”

Monica felt her blood run cold. Glenn and Lord Cyril are missing?

According to Louis, the academy’s teachers were all desperately trying to find the two missing boys. And, naturally, they’d covered up the disappearance so as not to cause a panic.

Their first order of business was to determine whether they’d vanished of their own accord or had been caught up in some kind of incident. For the time being, no one had demanded a ransom.

But if they wanted money, they would have taken Dee…

Huberd Dee’s family owned several villas in south Ridill. They were extremely wealthy. If the kidnapper had done even a little research, they’d never have gone after Glenn, who was a commoner, or Cyril, who was adopted.

Monica unconsciously gripped her skirt. Her hands were shaking, and not from the cold.

She was afraid. She knew that everything in her life could fall apart at a moment’s notice, and she knew the pain of losing someone important. She’d felt all this before, when those government officials had taken her father away.

As she sat in silence, grimacing, Louis’s words grew sour. “I tried to summon Ryn to help search for them. Unfortunately, she is not responding to my call.”

“Um, maybe she decided to take the day off?”

While that might sound absurd, it was quite possible when it came to Ryn. Rather than laugh this off, Louis shrugged bitterly.

“I would have given her a good slap if she had,” he said. “But it seems something has severed the contract formula binding us. This has never happened before.”

Glenn and Cyril were missing. Louis couldn’t contact Ryn. This was an emergency.

Monica grasped the clothing at her chest. Dread was bubbling up from the pit of her stomach.

Seeing this, Louis lightened his tone. “Anyway, this may sound like a non sequitur, but as it happens, I’d sent Ryn out on an investigation.”

No wonder I haven’t seen her lately, thought Monica. She’s probably been busy. “What was she investigating?”

“I heard through the grapevine that the Gem Mage has been engaged in shady deals involving antique items. I wanted her to see if he was making any sales or purchases that broke the law.”

The Gem Mage Emanuel Darwin was one of their colleagues, an elderly man who specialized in imbuement magecraft. He supported the second prince and was close with Duke Clockford. He saw Louis, who supported the first prince, as his enemy. They were not on good terms, to say the least.

“If what I heard turned out to be true, I’d have dirt on the Gem Mage, wouldn’t I?” explained Louis. “And he’s barely visited his workshop in the capital lately. Apparently, he’s been spending all his time at his villa.”

“His villa…?” repeated Monica.

“Yes. It’s in the Kelielinden Forest, northeast of this school. Have you heard of it?”

“Oh! Isn’t that the place with high mana density, where no one is allowed to go?”

“That’s the one.”

If a person with low mana resistance lingered in a mana-rich area, they were liable to develop mana poisoning. All that mana also tended to attract magical creatures such as dragons and spirits—making such places unfit for human habitation.

Purchasing such land and building a villa there was indeed suspicious behavior. If Emanuel had a contracted spirit, he might have been frequenting the area for their sake. However, Louis was the only Sage that had one.

“What could he be doing holed up there?” said Louis. “…Come, my fellow Sage, I’m sure you’re just as curious.”

“I, um, suppose…”

“And Ryn vanished in the middle of investigating that forest. Doesn’t it make sense to assume the two are related?”

“Yes, that makes sense…”

“Now, back to the topic of Glenn and the other boy. Right after they disappeared, we detected mana belonging to a spirit northeast of the school.”

“…!”

Northeast of the school. Wasn’t that the location of the Kelielinden Forest they’d just been discussing?

“I don’t know if the spirit was Ryn,” said Louis, “but considering the situation, it’s very likely related to the boys vanishing.”

Monica stood up before Louis even completed his sentence. She wanted to rush out to the forest right away. She needed to look for Glenn, Cyril, and Ryn.

But Louis held up a hand to stop her. “I’m not quite finished, my fellow Sage.”

“There’s, um, still more?” asked Monica, restless.

Louis nodded. “I determined that it would be best to have help on this matter, so I sent a request to the Starseer Witch. But then she told me something simply unbelievable… You see, she has her own information network. That’s all well and good, but to tell me that now, of all times! I tell you, I threw my hands up in utter disgust.”

Monica sucked in her breath. Was there a fact more unbelievable than Glenn and the others disappearing?

“The Gem Mage,” said Louis, clearly fed up, “is thought to possess Galanis, the Flute of the False King, an ancient magical item previously believed to be lost.”

Cyril woke, shivering against the cold, and groped about in a daze for his bedcover.

He couldn’t find it, however. Instead, he heard the dry scraping of dead leaves.

Why do I smell dirt and grass…?

When he turned over, he heard even more noise—the crackling, rustling sounds of dry vegetation beneath him.

Finally realizing he wasn’t in his bed, Cyril jolted upright. Dead leaves went flying, then fluttered back down to rest on his legs.

“Where am I…?”

Now sitting up, Cyril froze, and his blue eyes widened in shock. He’d apparently been sleeping in some sort of cave. His voice echoed faintly off the walls. The cave was tall and wide, and he probably wouldn’t have to worry about hitting his head. There was an opening leading outside some distance away; he could make out a patch of night sky.

There were no lanterns around, but Cyril could see well enough to judge the cave’s dimensions, thanks to the presence of several hovering lights, each about the size of his little fingernail. Mixed in among them were a few as big as his fist.

Are these…low spirits?

Right next to Cyril lay Glenn. He was still asleep, buried in dead leaves. A lot of dried grass had been piled up beneath the two of them. They had these to thank for keeping them warm. Otherwise, they might have frozen to death.

“Dudley. Wake up.”

“Mgh… VP, the meat… Will there be any meat for breakfast…?”

Cyril wanted to yell, “This is no time to be dreaming!” but he held back. This was clearly an emergency. They had to avoid raising their voices until they knew what was going on.

“Waaake uuup!” he groaned, keeping his voice as low as possible and shaking Glenn’s shoulders.

Just then, he heard someone approaching from behind.

“Are you awake, human?” asked a youthful voice.

Cyril whipped around just as Glenn opened his eyes and gave a pleasant yawn.

Standing behind Cyril was a boy of about five and a strange wolf as big as a boar.

The boy had soft, pale-blond hair and ice-blue eyes. A cloak covered everything from his neck down. It even concealed his arms, which he was holding out to cradle of pile of dead leaves.

As Cyril wondered what to say, Glenn, who had just woken up, took the initiative. “Where are we?” he asked.

“This is Kelielinden Forest,” answered the boy. His words were very clear despite his young age.

Glenn stared back at him blankly. It seemed he wasn’t familiar with the place. Cyril, however, had heard the name before.

“That’s the forest to the northeast of Serendia Academy,” he explained. “Nobody is allowed to go there because of its high mana density.”

“Yes, yes. Sezh and I brought the two of you here,” said the boy, turning to the wolf behind him. The creature had ashen fur and orange eyes—probably a mid-level or high spirit.

Cyril looked between the boy and the wolf, then asked carefully, “Are you spirits?”

“Yes, yes,” replied the boy. “This is Sezhdio, a mid-level earth spirit. I think…I’m an ice spirit.”

“…You think?” repeated Cyril, frowning. What did that mean?

The boy calling himself an ice spirit frowned. He seemed troubled. “I don’t have much power left… I don’t even remember my name. But I can control ice…so I must be an ice spirit. So please just call me ‘Ice Spirit.’”

Cyril knit his brow. Was such a thing possible? He didn’t know much about spirit ecology, but he’d learned a thing or two about them in fundamental magecraft class.

The fact that the boy could assume human form meant he was a high spirit—that much was clear. But this was the first Cyril had ever heard of a high spirit forgetting its own name.

“I brought the two of you here…because I want you to help the spirits in this forest,” the boy explained. “With so little power left…there’s not much I can do. That’s why…we’ve been searching for strong humans. Ones with lots of mana.”

“…And that’s why you kidnapped us?” Cyril said, groaning. He was beginning to get angry.

“That’s a crime, you know!” said Glenn, raising his fist.

The wolf standing behind Ice Spirit began to growl. Then a low male voice came out of its fanged mouth. “Humans created this problem. It stands to reason that humans should solve it.”

Cyril was surprised the wolf could talk. Mid-level spirits spanned a very wide range of abilities. Some could barely say a few words, while others could speak fluently. The latter type was generally more powerful. So while this Sezhdio was a mid-level spirit, he was likely just as strong as a high spirit. He could probably snap their windpipes like it was nothing.

The wolf looked back and forth between Cyril and Glenn, glaring at them with his orange eyes. “Despicable humans. Take that man with the flute and leave at once. He is causing upheaval throughout the forest.”

From what Cyril could piece together, a man who played a flute was making trouble for the spirits of the forest, and these two had brought Cyril and Glenn—humans themselves—here to solve the problem.

Glenn looked at Cyril, asking with his eyes what they should do next.

I’m the upperclassman here, thought Cyril. I have a responsibility to get Dudley back to school safely. The wolf looked like he might attack them at any moment; confronting him would be a bad idea. Instead, he turned back to Ice Spirit.

“Could you tell us what exactly is going on?” he asked. “Once we’ve heard, we’ll decide whether to help you.”

Cyril made up his mind. If things went south, he’d stall for time. Glenn could use flight magecraft, so as long as Cyril bought him enough time to finish his chant, his underclassman could escape.

Cyril and Glenn sat back down on the dried grass, and the boy took a seat across from them. The wolf called Sezhdio remained behind him.

Falteringly, Ice Spirit began. “A little while ago… Um, it was around when summer started. A human came to live in this forest. The human built magical items in his cabin…a whole lot of them. But it seems things didn’t go very well.”

According to him, the human would occasionally complain that he didn’t have enough mana, or that things would go right if only he could imbue a large amount of mana into something.

Imbuing a magical item with mana was an extremely difficult art. Attack spells, in particular, had a very poor affinity with magical items; it required vast stores of mana and advanced techniques just to imbue an item with a single use of a beginner-level attack spell.

“For a while…the human went away. Then, a little after the new year…he came back to the forest…with a strange flute.”

Behind Ice Spirit, Sezhdio growled in irritation. “The flute can control spirits. Any spirit under its influence becomes that human’s servant.”

“Yes, yes. I was just barely able to resist its power…so I took Sezh and these ones and fled to the very edge of the forest.”

“These ones” probably referred to the low spirits drifting about the cave. The boy looked at them, his eyes soft and gentle.

Sezhdio, on the other hand, slapped his front paw against the ground in frustration, scattering a pile of dead leaves. “Neither he nor I can approach because of that flute. We can’t risk it. We need the help of humans, who are not affected by it. Do you understand? You must do something about that blasted man! And quick!”

As the wolf threatened them, his gray fur standing on end, Ice Spirit reached out and clung to him. His soft blond hair swaying, the boy pleaded. “Sezh, you can’t speak to them like that. We already…brought them here against their will…”

“How much longer will you insist on your naive ways, Ice Spirit? This is why you forgot your name, why you lost your power. You are a high spirit. Does this not shame you?”

“I’m sorry. But… It’s just…”

The boy glanced between Sezhdio and Cyril and Glenn, his expression darkening. Despite his young appearance, he was trying both to understand his fellow spirit and to be considerate toward the humans.

Spirits didn’t cry. But to Cyril, Ice Spirit looked like he might tear up at any moment.

“I’m sorry, humans,” he said. “I’m really sorry…for asking you to help us… But… But…”

Cyril felt anger flare up inside him. Before he realized it, he was already talking. “It’s never wrong to ask for help when you can’t handle something on your own. Nor is there any need to apologize… Of course, bringing us here without permission, without asking—that was not right.”

“Yeah, you pretty much kidnapped us,” Glenn agreed.

Cyril sniffed, then sucked in a breath and puffed out his chest. “That aside, I cannot overlook this,” he declared. “When dawn breaks, we will go and meet with this human and persuade him to stop. Are you with me, Dudley?”

“Of course! I knew you’d say that, VP!”

Ice Spirit looked up at Cyril and Glenn, his face relaxing. He looked like a lost child relieved to finally be found. His ice-blue eyes almost never blinked, but there was a sheen to them, like ice just beginning to melt.

“Thank you so much, human. And other human.”

“Cyril Ashley.”

“And I’m Glenn Dudley!”

Once they’d introduced themselves, Ice Spirit smiled, his soft blond hair swaying. “Cyril and Glenn, thank you.”

“…And that is what I heard inside the cave.”

Wildianu had been eavesdropping on the conversation between the ice spirit and the boys. Afterward, he’d immediately returned to Serendia Academy and reported everything he’d seen and heard to Felix.

Wildianu was a high water spirit. He couldn’t fly or run faster than a horse, but anywhere there was water, he could outpace even a fish. Fortunately, a river ran from Kelielinden Forest to a spot near Serendia Academy, so he’d hopped in and ridden the flow, making it back in a flash. He was now atop Felix’s shoulder, in the guise of a white lizard.

With his report complete, he pressed his little head down, as if he were a human, bowing. “I apologize for doing something you didn’t direct me to do, Master.”

“No, you made the right call. Thank you, Wildianu.”

Felix now knew there was a man living in Kelielinden Forest with a strange flute that could control spirits. He also knew where Cyril and Glenn had been taken, and what they were up to.

Felix’s expression stayed the same throughout Wildianu’s report. He stood, staring out the window. The sun still hadn’t risen.

“Kelielinden Forest is the area the Gem Mage purchased a little while back, isn’t it?” said Felix.

“Isn’t that one of the Seven Sages?” asked Wildianu.

“Yes. He manages Duke Clockford’s collection of magical items at his estate.” Felix narrowed his azure eyes, still staring out the window. His lips formed a cold smile. “The Gem Mage, Emanuel Darwin… He may prove useful indeed.”

Wildianu’s master was wise. He was already devising his next plan. Though his methods might be unacceptable to most, if Felix decided it was the best option, he’d do it without a second thought. He’d put on that hollow smile and say he had no choice.

“Wil, keep watch here for me. I’m heading out to take care of something… And I might as well help our school’s students while I’m at it. After all, dependable aides aren’t so easy to find.”

Wildianu wanted to ask Felix if saving his friends was truly secondary, but that would be acting above his station. And besides, posing such a question to his master would only upset him.