Strange Grief Wants to Retire ~ The Weakest Hunter Dreams of a Hero ~ - Volume 2 - Chapter 7.1

Chapter Seven: Abyss

Underneath the streets of the capital, in the labyrinthine sewer network, Sophia Black steadily walked along the slick pavement through the revolting stench and opaque darkness. A stream of sewage lined the pavement; rats and cockroaches skittered across the corner of her vision.

A faint source of light illuminated the meters-wide tunnel, projecting no other silhouette than Sophia’s. The hood of her lived-in, baggy gray robe fell onto her fiery hair; her eyes of matching flames remained emotionless.

At the end of the day, Sophia had devoted exorbitant funds, time, as well as her own blood and sweat into her research only for it to be now cut short, leaving many questions unanswered. She doubted that her master’s revolutionary work, now that the documents were seized by the empire, would come to fruition anytime soon. Materials to create the device used to disrupt the flow of mana material were rare enough as they were; now there was no chance Noctus could acquire them within the borders of the empire.

Sophia had first sought to become an apprentice to Noctus Cochlear when she’d discovered his thesis tucked into a recess of a forbidden library. His theory had been brilliant, but above all, Sophia had been drawn to his obsession for universal truth—the burning thirst for knowledge that had driven him to research outlawed topics around the world, despite risking his title, position, and reputation. And before she’d known it, she’d begun seeking him out, never doubting that the author of such a thesis would’ve let banishment stand between himself and his research. Sophia had needed power. Her solitary pursuit for knowledge had plateaued, leaving her to yearn for a masterful mentor and colleagues that had shared her ambition.

Searching for Noctus had been challenging, to say the least, especially when no record had even indicated if he’d been dead or alive. When she’d finally found him in Zebrudia—from where he’d been banished—of all places, Sophia had trembled with joy.

Now that it was all over, it didn’t seem like she’d spent enough time with him. She’d expected the empire to investigate their research eventually but not this soon. Transmogrifying serum, Malice Eaters, Akasha, etc. All of the breakthroughs in weapon design created under Noctus’s direction had been confiscated, but as far as Sophia was concerned, not all was lost yet.

Her mind was now fixed on a weapon—created out of a boundless thirst for knowledge—at least as dangerous as any of Noctus’s. It was a weapon that had been sealed away due to its extreme danger—the ignoble bioweapon capable of bringing the capital to ruins: the Sitri Slime.

She was on the hunt for the slime, which was presumably loose in the sewer system. Slimes, no matter how deadly, acted on instinct, making them easy enough to track down for anyone familiar with their nature. Taking count of the vermin and insects that the slime must be feeding on, Sophia was narrowing down its whereabouts.

She was determined to see this through after resorting to every heinous means she had to further her research. For Noctus, for her fellow apprentices, and for herself, she’d do whatever it took.

Sophia continued through the sewers all alone.

***

A few days after the investigation of White Wolf’s Den had concluded, I was sitting across from Gark in a meeting room within the Explorers’ Association branch in the capital. Kaina stood behind Gark, and one of the Vault Investigation Bureau agents sat grumpily next to him. Next to me sat Eva, looking resolute and immaculately postured. Words couldn’t express how much I appreciated her accompanying me when she was even less responsible than I was for whatever was going on.

Gark twisted his brows into a demonic furrow as he so often did, and he growled, “You don’t know anything?!”

“Unfortunately, no,” I said.

“Krai, you really think I’m gonna buy that?” he said, now more exasperated than angry.

Everything that had happened in and around White Wolf’s Den had become a much bigger deal than I’d expected. Despite the gag order from the empire, Eva had been kindly whispering tidbits into my ear. More and more knights of the Third Order could be seen on the streets over the past few days, apparently on high alert to hunt down remnants of Akashic Tower (I’d never heard of it before, but I was told it’s an infamous magic syndicate).

For some reason, I’d been often summoned to the Association in times like this. They were hoping for the amazing Level 8 hunter to unleash his ungodly power or something—these were but pitiful attempts to squeeze an ocean of blood out of this Level 8 turnip. I’d used to dread these summons, but now I held my head high—no blame could’ve possibly been attributed to me.

As I sat there indignantly, Gark scratched his head and said in a seemingly compassionate tone, “I don’t know what you’re scheming, Krai, but there’s no shame in asking for help. We’ll do whatever we can.”

There’s no shame in me asking for their help?! Why are you acting like I should be taking charge here?! You should be doing everything, not just what you can! I thought without showing a hint of outrage on my face. When will you believe that I haven’t done anything? That I know nothing?!

“Checkpoints have been set up all over the capital, and so are bounties for their heads. I’ve been sending as many hunters as I can, but there’s nothing so far. Chances are they’re still stuck in the city. If the one Liz had knocked out ever comes to, we can start interrogating them...but no dice there for now either,” said Gark.

“Let’s stop beating about the bush, Branch Manager,” said the Vault Investigation Bureau agent who’d been glaring at me.

The Vault Investigation Bureau, a national agency tasked with researching Relics, vaults, and phantoms, held a lot of power in the empire and worked more closely with hunters than any other agency. Most importantly, my extraordinary ineptitude had put me deep in their bad graces.

“Thousand Tricks, we’re well aware of your secretive practices. I’ll also admit that whoever your sources are, your reconnaissance at times surpasses that of ours. It’s only natural for a treasure hunter to conceal his strategies, but this...mess has gone far beyond your Thousand Trials.”

Yikes. I knew members of the clan had taken to calling my brainless decisions the “Thousand Trials,” much to my embarrassment, but I hadn’t expected the term to spread outside the clan. I wanted to cringe into the couch, but I forced my face to remain stoic.

As if he was sentencing me to death, the agent continued, “Experimenting with mana material constitutes one of the ten capital crimes. In a national emergency like this, every citizen of the empire has the civic duty to cooperate with law enforcement. Believe me, the Bureau would prefer not to go against a Level 8, but be forewarned: concealing any information from us may result in criminal charges, Krai Andrey. We are prepared to use Tears of Truth if needed.” His tone suggested that he meant it, and that was reinforced by the scowling Gark beside him.

Tears of Truth was one of the most famous Relics in the empire’s possession. It had the power to see through lies, but because it was one of a kind, and that it kind of infringed upon human rights, there were miles and miles of red tape involved in using it. Even against criminals, the Bureau rarely authorized its use. The fact that the agent had it up and ready meant the empire was serious about their investigation. Bizarrely, despite my sparkly clean rap sheet, I’d been subjected to this Relic more than once in the past.

Even though the agent’s eyes were glaring at me like I was a criminal mastermind and giving me chills, I loudly proclaimed, “Bring it on!” And I shouted even louder and longer, “Briiiiiiing iiiiiiit ooooooon!”

The agent who’d been coldly judging me was now scratching his head in frustration.

What did you expect from me? I nearly blurted out.

Besides, as a connoisseur of Relics, I’d never pass up the chance to see Tears of Truth—the thing was a work of art, a national treasure.

No skin off my nose. I wasn’t lying; I really knew nothing.

“Enough!” bellowed the agent. “How have you always circumvented Tears of Truth’s detection?! Every time we use it on you, the reliability of the Relic is called into question! Besides, no one else in empire history has ever been happy to have Tears of Truth used on them!”

What could I say? I was an honest man through and through. It was just as puzzling to me that they were always so sure that I was withholding worthwhile information. I’d told them again and again how useless I was—to no avail. Blame the Association for giving me Level 8, I’d say.

Scorn flashed in Eva’s eyes, which had been directed at me before turning towards the agent. “Agent Adrian,” she said, “as you are well aware, empire law strictly governs the appropriate usage of Tears of Truth. Krai has neither been charged with a crime nor has admitted to withholding any information. If you intend to carry this out on a law-abiding citizen based on nothing more than a baseless hunch, we are prepared to protest it through official channels.”

And that was how I learned the agent’s name.

Adrian’s frown had no effect on Eva, who sat upright and resolute as ever.

She’d make a great clan master.

The air in the meeting room was tense, though I was the type of person to schmooze officers. And so with a clap of my hands, I interjected, “That’s enough. I really don’t know anything about them, but Sitri had said she had a history with them, so you should probably ask her. She said she’s going to settle this anyway.”

Shadows flickered on Adrian’s face, and he muttered, “Sitri Smart...”

Gark looked like he was carrying tons of invisible weights on his shoulders, and Kaina gave me apologetic looks. It wasn’t every day that Sitri’s name came up in our conversation because Sitri and the Association had a history too. Sitri had long gotten over the whole thing, but apparently the incident still weighed on Gark’s heart.

“Allow me to personally apologize for that matter as an imperial agent, albeit from an agency uninvolved in the incident. I would also like to thank her—she is a valiant treasure hunter after all,” said Adrian.

“I mean...Sitri doesn’t really care,” I said, keeping to myself that her perception of criminal justice had changed that day.

“The case is already closed, which makes revoking the penalty very difficult. Attempts have been made to reopen it a few times in the past, but the circumstantial evidence was too convincing... Her moniker can be changed once no one addresses her with it, but being a member of Grieving Souls is hurting her on that front.”

More than three years ago, Sitri had been roped into a certain incident and had been listed as the primary suspect in the case. Despite her charges having been dropped criminally for lack of concrete evidence, the Association had caved under high pressure and imposed the worst punishment in their book: revoking her levels and labeling her with a dishonorable moniker. This result had likely been a compromise between the Association, which had worked to protect its hunters, and the Third Order, which had failed to find any other suspects fitting the bill after thorough investigations. It’d been a huge scandal with the knights’ order having put every resource they had had into solving it. Sitri could’ve very well been framed had anyone falsified evidence against her; given these circumstances, I’d say Gark had done a pretty good job of holding on to the shadow of a doubt in Sitri’s case.

But I’d never forget the Sitri who—despite the smile plastered on her face with all the bravado she could muster—had been downtrodden behind the facade. Neither would I forget the powerlessness that had swept through me when I couldn’t protect her from the slanderous verdict. She’d long returned to her usual self since then. Still, that incident had made me realize how sensitive Sitri had been behind her veil as I’d thrown spaghetti of comforting words and acts at the nonstick wall that had been Sitri.

“Solving this case would certainly help hers. Her contribution to this country as an Alchemist has been highly regarded. It won’t be too long until her honorable name is redeemed,” said Adrian. Apparently he was on Sitri’s side, most likely because Sitri had seemingly thrived in the investigation of White Wolf’s Den.

With his spirits somewhat higher, Gark said, “There were plenty of injured, but we were lucky to have gotten away with zero casualties. That’s a miracle considering the caliber of forces thrown our way. We’re about to get very busy in this city—anyway, what’s Sitri up to?”

Covering my ass, looking for the Sitri Slime. But I’d sooner swallow a capsule of Sitri Slime before I’d admit that. “I’m not sure,” so I answered. “Well, I’ll talk to her if I see her.”

Once I made it out of the intense meeting at the Association, I made my way to the clan house’s lounge to look for Sitri.

Although three days had since passed, the lounge was still littered with hunters exhausted to their bones. What must’ve been a grueling quest had left them with peaceful expressions but no life in their eyes...like they had one foot already in heaven. Clan employees who staffed the lounge were running around wearily, weaving through bottles and barrels of spirits scattered all around. Though I didn’t recall ever seeing those drinks being served in the clan house.

While embers of trouble still glowed out there in the city, at least First Steps was beginning to regain normalcy.

Go get drunk at a bar instead, I wanted to say. Put those bonuses to good use.

“Another insane trial... I thought I’d never see the sun again.”

“Same... There were so many of us, with Sven, and Gark, and then Liz... I thought it’d be a piece of cake.”

“If only half of us had gone, none of us would’ve made it back.”

“Slimes...they’re under my bed... Chimeras...outside my window... The golem...in my nightmares...”

“I’m gonna quit... I’ll leave this toxic clan behind me...”

“That’s it. Once the dust settles on this whole thing, I’m getting married. You hear me?! I’m getting married after this is all over!”

“Master is god... Master is god...”

What hard-knock lives hunters had...minus one girl who definitely hadn’t been knocked as hard as the others.

Even as they noticed me walking in, no one cared to stand or sit up. Since I’d promised Gark our full-fledged support, I felt terrible about their current condition.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think things would get so messy... You know, our clan’s pretty high up there level-wise, so...”

“Of course life’s a breeze to you!” said Lyle, sobbing and banging his fist on the table he was leaning on. “You took out that golem in one shot! But we’re not! Like! You! For the love of all that is holy, have mercy on us!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at Lyle, a brawny guy who’d crumbled on his table, his intimidating face now soaked in tears.

Was it really that difficult?

“Teach me! Teach me that move, Krai!” he cried.

“Force of will—that’s all it takes,” I joked deadpan.

“Force of will?!” bellowed Lyle. “Are you serious?!”

Good thing everyone made it back, I thought.

Death was an occupational hazard that could strike at any moment in this industry, but that didn’t mean losing friends got any easier. I decided to let the miserable state of the lounge slide just this once.

I took in the lounge as hunters who still had the will to speak returned to their conversation.

“Has anyone seen Talia? We were supposed to meet up here...”

“No. She’s probably at home or in her lab. She was saying how the quest turned out pretty hard.”

Guessing that my wounded hunters couldn’t fully rest with me in the room, I decided to go back upstairs after noting that Sitri was also missing from the lounge. And with one last look at the peaceful aftermath of a job well done, I left the lounge.

***

In hindsight, Noctus could recall numerous indications of Sophia operating undercover. For one, Sophia had been privy to the inner workings of First Steps. Although she’d misjudged the Thousand Tricks’s involvement, she’d been the first on his team to know of Sitri’s return and had been aware of the other Grievers’ absence from the capital; not showing up in the hideout even once since the hunters’ arrival had also been strange on her part. She’d also given only bare-minimum directions through Sounding Stone calls, and she’d often remained silent even when the Stones had been connected. Sophia had always chalked it up to her being busy with preparations, but now Noctus understood that she just couldn’t pick up the Stone in the presence of the hunters. This also explained why she’d sounded so uncharacteristically ruffled on the call after Flick’s defeat. Even the ice-cold Sophia couldn’t be blamed for reacting that way after an ally had gone rogue and attacked her with a potentially lethal spell, albeit unknowingly. Noctus also remembered how she’d regularly disappear while working with the other apprentices and how she’d been far too knowledgeable about the Grievers that she’d designated them as the theoretical targets when designing Akasha. Everything made sense if Sophia had been posing as a First Steps member all this time.

Going undercover was just about the most effective method of reconnaissance—and the riskiest. The toll it’d taken on her, having to double as a hunter while simultaneously furthering her research, had been significant. The potential consequences of her cover being blown would’ve been dire for her, and the risks were so significant that if Sophia had given a choice, Noctus would’ve forbidden her from doing so. Yet Noctus could easily believe that the girl could’ve pulled it off perfectly without tipping him off. He’d attributed her recent radio silence to her cautiousness while in the company of other hunters. Since Sounding Stones were highly sought-after and only had a specific function, she’d naturally be questioned as to whom she’d been communicating with if she were to be caught red-handed.

Is she plotting another scheme?

Eyes narrowing in contemplation, Noctus lowered himself into his chair. He knew Sophia too well to imagine that she’d give up the fight, even after witnessing the inexplicable power of the Thousand Tricks.

Enough, he thought. Call it off. There is nothing else we can do.

Now only Noctus himself remained in his arsenal, and he wasn’t foolhardy enough to take on the empire single-handed. Retreat, at times, was a valid strategy; perhaps Sophia’s blindness to that was her only fault.

“Professor Noctus, we’ve managed to extract Sophia. We weren’t followed,” announced the Thief as he entered through the hideout door with a girl in tow.

The girl had distinctive hair and eyes the color of roaring flames; her figure was frail but not without feminine curves, and her innocent face betrayed no part of her history as an ostracized Alchemist—though, on her face was fear, something neither Noctus nor the Thief had ever before seen on Sophia’s face. Additionally, she wore a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, which Sophia didn’t. Combined with her braided hair and an outfit that differed from Sophia’s usual fashion, she looked distinguishable from the Alchemist Sophia of the syndicate.

Flick might have jeered at her looks under different circumstances, but now Noctus and his team showed Sophia nothing but silence and respect. None of them could deny how much Sophia had sacrificed for their cause even if her undercover work wasn’t enough to earn them victory against the Thousand Tricks.

Standing there, she looked confused.

“Your perseverance will not go unrewarded,” said Noctus.

Sophia looked to and fro, and she took a step back.

“What? Wh-Where...am I? Who are you...?”

Her voice quivered with an uncertainty that no one on Noctus’s team had found in Sophia’s voice ever before. Terror flickered in her eyes in a way that almost made the other apprentices believe she wasn’t Sophia at all. They watched her, astonished at the demeanor completely contrary to everything they’d known about Sophia Black.

“Enough of that performance,” said Noctus. “We are leaving the capital—a temporary retreat, Sophia. The results of my experiments live on within my cranium. Fortunately, we still have one Malice Eater left. It should suffice for a guard shall we encounter any trouble on our way.”

“What...?!” Astonishment filled Sophia’s face as she noticed Flick and staggered back a few more steps.

“What are you concerned about?” asked Noctus. “I blame you not for this outcome. If I wanted to punish you in any way, I would first need to hold my other apprentices accountable for their failures.”

“M-My name...is Talia...”

“You’re taking the joke too far, Sophia,” cut in Flick. “Braiding your hair and wearing a pair of glasses hardly makes you a master of disguise. Or what? Are you suffering from amnesia?” he taunted, making Sophia’s eyes widen.

Noctus had to agree with Flick on the point that Sophia’s disguise seemed far too unconvincing. Anyone who’d interacted with Sophia for more than a few passing words would’ve easily recognized her. Certainly she wasn’t convinced that she was fooling Noctus and her fellow apprentices now.

Shaking, Sophia observed the room and reached for something at her waist. The color was drained from her face.

Or is this still a part of her scheme? wondered Noctus. “We will not return to the capital for several years at the shortest. Unless you mean to tell me that you would rather live out your life as a hunter.”

“Wh-Why am I here...? Sophia? The Sophia Sitri had talked about...?” muttered Sophia.

Noctus scowled. Something is amiss here. What has happened to Sophia?

He saw no possible reason why Sophia should continue playing her undercover part. Leaving the capital was too urgent of a task to be bogged down with some kind of prank, and Sophia knew it. Even if Sophia was forced to keep up the act for whatever reason, Noctus expected her to try to at least convey her intentions through subtle hints in the conversation.

Has witnessing the Thousand Tricks’s inexplicable attack confused her memories? Or else did she manipulate some of her own memories in case of being captured?

The thought that Sophia would meddle with her own memories was chilling but believable enough that his zealous first apprentice would follow through on it.

“Bring the Malice Eater,” commanded Noctus.

“Yes, Professor Noctus...” answered an apprentice.

Malice Eaters were a species of chimera unlike any other. Not only were they the deadliest chimeras Noctus had ever encountered, but their ability to reproduce was also truly remarkable. While they took longer to reach full maturity compared to other chimeras, the benefit of being able to mass-produce powerful chimeras outweighed the drawback. Incidentally, one Malice Eater had been grown within the city, and it hadn’t been involved in the previous battle in the clearing.

The apprentice brought in a Malice Eater noticeably smaller than those deployed in the battle. And as soon as she’d seen it, Sophia cried out and crouched on the floor in fear despite having been the chief caretaker of the chimera. Guided by the apprentice, the Malice Eater approached Sophia with a growl and sniffed her. Malice Eaters recognized their allies by scent, therefore no matter how dedicated Sophia was to maintaining her cover, there was no deceiving this beast, which could identify a target’s scent from kilometers away. The chimera continued to sniff Sophia, who remained shrunken on the floor, on the verge of tears. Before long, the chimera let out a cry.

“Impossible!” exclaimed Noctus. “Check again.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” said the apprentice.

He guided the Malice Eater to smell Sophia again, causing her to squeak out a scream as the chimera overwhelmingly sniffed and huffed.

“H-How is this possible?!” said Noctus as he watched.

The Malice Eater that had trusted Sophia more than any other apprentice now stared at the girl with apprehension and animosity—whoever the girl was, she was not Sophia.

The apprentices watched this exchange with their mouths agape, and the Thief went up to the girl in disbelief to peer into her face. Now even he was forced to admit that the girl couldn’t be Sophia despite her looking identical to the first apprentice.

“A twin...?” muttered Noctus. “But even then...”

Never once had Sophia mentioned having a sister, let alone a twin. Even if the girl crouched on the floor was Sophia’s twin sister, why had she joined First Steps? Did she contribute to Sophia’s enthusiasm for battling the clan? A million questions sparked in Noctus’s mind, but chief among them was—where was the real Sophia Black?

“Why were you impersonating Sophia?!” demanded Flick, on the verge of rage.

But Talia only cowered and shook her head. “I-I don’t know what you mean...!” Her fear and confusion seemed genuine.

Suddenly, Noctus shivered. He felt like he had caught a glimpse of some horror he was never meant to know existed. A powerful urge to leave the hideout nearly pushed him to action when his Thief raised a brow.

“Someone has infiltrated the building, Professor Noctus,” he said.

Quiet footsteps approached.

Flick stepped away from Talia and pointed his staff at the door. He and the other apprentices wondered who the intruder could’ve been. A hunter wouldn’t have produced any footfalls, and the knights’ order would’ve charged in with their weapons ready. Most notably, the intruder had made it past the several locks securing the hideout entrance.

The footsteps stopped just outside the door before someone slowly swung the door open.

“I’m sorry for my delay, Master.”

The room was silent at the emergence of the first apprentice. Noctus and his other apprentices had been awaiting her return with bated breath but now found themselves staring at her in astonishment.

Sophia’s crimson hair glowed from within her hood, and her brilliant eyes like dark rubies glimmered with intelligence. Her gray robe fitted her loosely to conceal any curves in her silhouette. On her back, Sophia was wearing a large pack.

Shocked beyond belief, Talia stared at her. If it weren’t for the differences in their getup, Talia would’ve believed that she was looking into a mirror—even identical twins wouldn’t have looked this identical.

Sophia gave Talia—now cowering on the floor with her back against the wall—a glance, and not a hint of surprise disrupted Sophia’s calm smile.

“I really am sorry,” said Sophia. “There was something I had to take care of. Although I was hoping to finish it up a bit sooner...”

Flick took a step back from her and said, “Sophia...you have nothing to say about...her?!”

“Oh, hello, Flick... I’m glad to see that you—and the other two captives—are unharmed. I was worried sick that not everyone would be here... What’s the matter? Why are you all pointing your staffs at me?” asked Sophia, her voice full of compassion.

The apprentices held their positions; the Thief looked at her with just as much apprehension as the others. Even Noctus, who thought he understood exactly how unorthodox Sophia could be, had never felt such a sense of otherness about his first apprentice.

“I shall ask you again: you have nothing to say in the face of this woman who is your spitting image?” demanded Noctus.

There were other questions to be asked, but none came to Noctus’s mind at the moment. His first apprentice had done nothing to alleviate the trepidation he’d felt since Sophia had walked through the door.

She pondered the question for some moments before smiling brightly. “That’s not quite true, Master. She’s not the spitting image of me—I’m the spitting image of her.”

Her words fell on the silent room.

“Besides, you’re too kind to say so. True, we have a similar frame and facial structure, but there are plenty of differences that distinguish us. I’m a bit taller, and my chest is a bit larger, making Talia a bit lighter overall—and that’s why I’m dressed like this. Master, the art of disguise boils down to how well you can identify your target’s key features and copy them. We are usually not as observant as we think we are,” explained Sophia somewhat gleefully.

With a deep breath, Noctus asked, “What do you mean?”

“This,” said Sophia as she lifted her hood, “is what I mean.”

Under her hood, radiant crimson hair was exposed. Noctus and the other apprentices watched with befuddlement as Sophia gripped her long hair and pulled—a snap, and the crimson wig slid off her head. Noctus thought for a moment that she’d pulled out her hair before he realized that it was a wig. Unveiled beneath the wig was a short set of bright-pink hair; the crimson eyes that had once seemed to match Sophia’s hair perfectly now emanated a strikingly different aura.

Noctus, the apprentices, and even Talia beheld Sophia with new recognition.

“I came to thank you, Noctus,” said Sitri Smart, Sophia’s nemesis. Without her disguise, even her voice seemed unrecognizable.

“Sitri...Smart...!” said Noctus. “H-How did you—since when did you take Sophia’s place?! How did you find this place?!”

His apprentices had distanced themselves from the intruder as much as the confines of the room had allowed, putting the Malice Eater between them and Sitri. Although the close quarters would work to the disadvantage of the Magi, it was doubly as bad for the physically frailer Alchemist.

“Take Sophia’s place?” she repeated before confirming Noctus’s worst fear. “No, Master. It has always been me.”

Impossible, thought Noctus, his mind refusing to accept this explanation.

When he’d first learned that Sophia was in First Steps, he had no doubt as to where her allegiance lay; he’d immediately discarded the idea that she might’ve been undercover while she’d been with him because of the strictly forbidden nature of his experiments. Undercover or not, she could face severe penalties especially since Sophia had contributed to the research almost as much as Noctus had, making her equally liable for the crime.

“Y-You were waiting to apprehend us for years?! Under the order of the Thousand Tricks?!” asked Noctus.

For the first time since she’d walked in, Sitri’s expression clouded. Somewhat wistfully, she explained, “Noctus, you’re a Magus among Magi; you have a brilliant mind, the dedication to pursue the truth, and enough power to follow your obsession through. Don’t disappoint me now—I’ve sought out your tutelage because I was drawn to your work just as your other apprentices were.”

“Wh-What are you saying, Sitri...?” muttered Talia.

Sitri ignored her and continued as if in a blissful haze, “I admire everything about you, Master: your magical prowess and knowledge that have once earned you the title ‘Master of Magi,’ your endless thirst for knowledge that has driven you to research the forbidden with no regard for your status, and your dedication and meticulousness that have allowed you to rebuild your research after facing exile. Researching the mystical requires a special set of talents, and you, talented in both magic and research, are undeniably a genius. Your talented apprentices would agree with me on that, I’m sure. You had everything I didn’t... Creating Akasha or the Mana Material Manipulator would’ve been too time-consuming and costly, not to mention risky, for me to attempt on my own. As I’ve said, you had everything: expensive equipment, rare catalysts and ingredients, talented researchers... You were even willing to consider my opinions when I hadn’t served you long, Master. It was very fortunate for me that you remained in the capital even after your exile.” Sitri spoke matter-of-factly, not with zealous fervor, but with logical certainty.

Noctus understood her meaning, feeling a sense of kinship in her passion. Still, she’d gone much further than Noctus would’ve dared to in her shoes.

“I have nothing to gain from revealing myself,” continued Sitri, “except to show my appreciation. After learning so much from my apprenticeship, I didn’t want to disrespect you by disappearing just as the ship begins to sink.”