The Ainsley Marquess Household
A commotion broke out within the grand estate when two scholars arrived unannounced.
"Excuse ?"
"Yes, is Arwen Ainsley present?"
"Uh…?"
The lady of the house, Dianna Ainsley, hesitated. She wasn't sure how to respond. These scholars had co specifically asking for her daughter.
"If I may ask," she began. "What is this visit about?"
"The propagation of her thesis," one of the scholars explained. "It has been submitted, and she has been given full credit."
Dianna blinked. "….Co again?"
The second scholar adjusted his glasses. "Her research was reviewed and accepted by the academic board. It's currently being circulated among leading scholars."
"...."
Silence followed.
Dianna's grip on the parlor door tightened. "Arwen's.… thesis? She submitted a thesis—?"
"Yes. And it was exceptional," one of the scholars confird. "The board was highly impressed. They wish to discuss further opportunities with her."
"Ah…. I see." Dianna forced a polite smile. "Unfortunately, my daughter—"
"She's not here."
A voice cut through the conversation. All eyes turned toward the source.
There, Silas stood against the wall with his arms crossed.
Dianna hesitated before nodding. "Y-Yes, it's as my son says. Arwen isn't ho at the mo—"
"This is about Cumulonimbus, isn't it?" Silas interjected. "I can show you where Arwen is."
The scholars exchanged quick glances before one of them nodded. "Yes, it is. If you could, that would be great."
"Wait."
Dianna stepped forward, cutting between them.
"Before that, I need a word with my son."
The older scholar inclined his head. "Of course, Lady Ainsley."
Dianna slowly shut the door. Then she turned to Silas.
"Have you lost your mind?!" she hissed. "What do you an, 'I can show you where Arwen is'?"
"Aren't you tired of this charade, mother?"
"...."
Ever since the incident, they had placed Arwen in a ntal asylum. It was a stain to the Ainsley na, and for that reason, they had kept everything confidential.
Arwen was supposedly 'recovering from an illness.' That was the official story.
A story so unremarkable that no one questioned it. So much so that Arwen Ainsley's existence was only acknowledged again after three years.
Silas scoffed. "No one cared before. But at least the people paying attention now should know the truth."
Dianna's eyes burned with frustration. "And what?! Risk your father's election for Assemblyman? Do you have any idea what a scandal like this would—"
Silas cut her off. "It wasn't plagiarism."
"That's not what the university ruled."
"And that's not what the accuser claid anymore."
Dianna froze. "What?"
Silas exhaled. "One of the panelists who testified against her during the defense retracted their statent."
"What?! Then what was it all for—"
"A mistake."
Silence.
Dianna's hands trembled slightly before she clenched them into fists. "You're telling that after everything—"
"There's more," Silas interrupted. "A handwritten apology. Reparation paynts. Compensation for damages."
Dianna's lips parted, but no words ca out.
"…We told them to bury the issue," she muttered. "So why are they bringing this up again—"
"Because Arwen is innocent."
"...."
Dianna's breath caught.
Silas crossed his arms. "They didn't care before. But now? Now that her thesis is gaining attention? Now they want to fix their mistake."
Dianna took a step back, shaking her head. "This doesn't make sense. The university wouldn't just reopen a case they covered up."
"They don't have a choice. If the Scholars' Institute has approved of her work, people will start asking questions. If the truth cos out from another source first, the university loses control over the narrative."
Dianna exhaled sharply. "Then they're trying to save face."
Silas remained silent.
Silas said nothing.
A yet-to-be-released handwritten apology, written solely by Vanitas Astrea, admitted his mistakes, offered repaynt for damages, ensured exclusive publication of the thesis, and honored its original author, Arwen.
While Vanitas had not been the only panelist who testified against Arwen, he was the only one willing to claim oversight, risking his entire career in the process.
"...."
There was nothing left for Silas to refute.
Vanitas had put everything on the line after three years. However, their agreent ca with conditions.
Silas Ainsley would never challenge anyone bearing the Astrea na. Within five years, he should see to his claim as heir of the Ainsley Marquess Family, expose his father, and finally take his revenge on the family that had wronged him and Arwen.
Furthermore, he would cooperate fully with Vanitas Astrea and the demands of the Astrea family.
"...."
Yet despite the risk, Vanitas had clearly accounted for everything.
His na was already synonymous with controversy. A heretic who dared claim the existence of the Thirteen Eclipses—approved by the Imperial Prince, Franz.
At first, Silas found the idea absurd. But Vanitas Astrea was not a man who acted without reason.
Silas was confident he would turn everything around.
'Wait, could it be…?'
If Vanitas's theories proved correct, if his absurd claims about the Red Moon saved lives, there was a chance he could receive astounding rewards.
"No way…." A grin slowly crept up Silas's face.
"Huh…?"
It was a stretch, but considering Vanitas Astrea's reckless involvent in an issue that didn't directly concern him, Silas arrived at a conjecture.
"Is he trying to beco a duke?"
"What? Who is?"
* * *
Inside the eting room, Vanitas sat at the head of the round table, surrounded by knights and mages. A large map was spread out on the table, marked with battle lines, leyline points, and resource allocations.
Convincing Karina to leave hadn't been easy, but he had finally managed to send her ho. It was safer for her to focus on her studies rather than remain in a war zone.
"The borders of Helmut, Arendelle, Eclestia, and Tenaihl have rejected the supplies and weapons you sent, Professor," Commander Albrecht reported.
"I expected resistance, but outright rejection? Who led the opposition?" Vanitas asked.
"A coalition of high-ranking commanders from each border. They claim their own thods are more reliable and that accepting foreign provisions would set a dangerous precedent," Albrecht replied.
Margaret frowned. "Even if it's free? What's the point of rejecting necessary supplies?"
"It's a matter of pride," Vanitas said, tapping his fingers against the table. "Accepting my aid ans succumbing to the proposal. They refuse to be bound by the conditions."
Borders were governed as much by politics as by military strength. Accepting the provisions would legally recognize Vanitas's authority within their territory.
In their perspective, they would be forced to acknowledge his influence and adopt his strategies. It was sothing they couldn't risk.
At this mont, everyone within Asticross couldn't refute Vanitas's authority anymore. He was backed by the Imperial Prince himself.
Vanitas turned to Margaret.
"Have the new stables been reconstructed? How about the horses? Have they been relocated there?"
The Illenia Knights had overseen the construction of the new stables. The old ones, according to Vanitas's calculations, put the horses at risk of corruption.
"Yes, but the horses are restless," Margaret said. "They're paranoid and refuse to follow commands. It's proving difficult to reta them."
"Tsk."
Vanitas clicked his tongue in frustration, drawing uneasy glances from those around the table.
Despite the rejection from the border commanders and other concerning reports, it was this…. This issue with the horses, that seed to irk him for so reason.
Margaret hesitated. "Professor, I understand this is an inconvenience, but—"
"This isn't just about inconvenience," Vanitas interrupted. "Horses are essential for rapid deploynt and supply transport. When the Red Moon intensifies, communication crystals beco unstable. But do you know what remains reliable?"
He glanced around the room.
"Physical ssengers," Adrienne said.
"Exactly. That was just one example. Without properly trained horses, we lose mobility. And if we lose mobility, we lose coordination. Do you understand now?"
The knights nodded, though so hesitated. They had been trained in horseback warfare, but there was one major problem.
Under the presence of a demon, horses were prone to paranoia. It was no wonder his strategies were hard to adopt. They went against common sense to begin with.
"I understand all of your concerns," Vanitas said, standing up. "So why don't I just show you?"
Vanitas turned to Margaret.
"Lead the way to the stables."
* * *
Inside the newly constructed stables, the horses snorted and stomped restlessly. It was clear they were still unsettled.
One of the stable hands approached . "Professor, they refuse to be saddled. So won't even let us approach."
I turned and observed the nearest stall. A chestnut-colored stallion stood rigid, locking eyes with .
The trick was simple. It might not have been common knowledge at this point, but in the ga, a certain chanic had been introduced later in the narrative.
I exhaled and stretched out my hand. "Bring a whip."
"Ah?"
Confused stares turned my way. I couldn't bla them. The horses were already agitated, yet it seed as if I intended to whip them.
Commander Albrecht frowned. "Professor, you're not seriously thinking of—"
"I am," I said flatly. "So bring the whip."
"...."
The stable hand hesitated before leaving to retrieve it. anwhile, I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out several small pouches.
"There were instructions on how to use these, but it seems a demonstration is necessary."
I held them up for everyone to see.
"Those are…?"
"Aster, Chrysanthemum, and Stardust. All in powdered form," I said.
"...."
Dumbfounded expressions t . They had likely seen the peculiar materials I had ordered to be sent here, but hadn't understood their purpose.
I had explained so in passing, but now was the right ti to clarify those related to alchemy.
"The formulas have already been provided. Just check the instructions later. For now, pay attention. Especially the mages."
I adjusted my spectacles and spread out a small piece of parchnt.
"...."
I drew a spell formula, incorporating Welcht's inverse notation and applying the necessary nodes. Then, I mixed the Aster and Chrysanthemum powder, letting their properties bind together.
As the symbols on the parchnt began to glow, I sprinkled the Stardust over the formation.
"And done."
"...."
Silence followed.
"What exactly is that for, professor?" one of the Illenia Knights, I presu to be Johanna, asked.
I glanced at her before turning my attention back to the parchnt.
"This," I said, tapping the glowing formation, "is a calming agent modified for creatures sensitive to mana fluctuations. Specifically, horses."
"Mana fluctuations?" Margaret asked, tilting her head.
"Yes." I gestured to the restless horses in their stalls. "When exposed to high concentrations of unstable mana, whether from demons, leylines, or residual traces of magic, horses experience heightened paranoia. It's why they refuse to be saddled."
Commander Albrecht scoffed. "And you're saying this concoction will fix that?"
I smirked. "That, and a little reinforcent."
The stable hand returned with the whip, hesitating before handing it to . "Here it is, professor."
As soon as my fingers wrapped around the handle, I froze.
"...."
Ba… Thump! Ba….Thump!
A heavy pressure squeezed my chest. My breath hitched, and a lump ford in my throat.
——Do you understand what you did wrong?
The voice rang through my head like a hamr striking tal. My vision blurred, and before I realized it, my knees hit the ground with a loud thud.
——I told you to stop crying.
A child's broken sobs echoed in my mind. Not my voice. Soone else's. But the suffocating raw pain felt far too real.
——A disobedient child must be disciplined.
Crack—!
The phantom sound of a whip lashed through the air. My grip tightened instinctively.
——Because of your recklessness, the plan nearly collapsed. I should never have brought you here with .
Crack—!
The pain wasn't mine, yet I felt it seep into my bones.
'I—I didn't an to! I just— I thought—'
Crack—!
'I'm sorry! Please! I won't do it again!'
A child's wretched pleas. A desperate voice begging for rcy.
But they weren't my mories.
'F-Father!'
They were Vanitas's.
——Why did you save the Princess of Illenia?!
"...."
The visions stopped abruptly, and when I ca back to my senses, I saw droplets of sweat hitting the ground beneath . My hands trembled, and my breathing felt unsteady.
That trauma…. it wasn't mine, yet sohow, it felt like it was. I rember instances of my aunt hitting with a belt during my childhood.
"...."
Before I fully grasped what had happened, a firm hand supported . I turned and saw Margaret, looking at with concern as she helped up.
"You okay?" she asked.
I couldn't answer. My eyes remained wide, and my mind was a plethora of confusion at the mont. Everything I had believed in had just been turned upside down in an instant.
Wasn't Vanitas Astrea's father supposed to be a good man?
At least, before their mother died?
That's what the diary had implied. But if the words written there were false to begin with, then…
No.
I didn't understand. None of it made sense.
Margaret's grip on my arm tightened slightly. "Hey, if you're not okay, take a breather."
"...."
I forced myself to push past the haze clouding my thoughts. Noticing the sharp glare Clevius was throwing my way, I swallowed hard and steadied my breathing.
Now wasn't the ti to fall apart. His presence here irritated to so extent, but he had remained quiet and obedient the entire ti.
"Professor, should we continue?" one of the knights asked.
"...."
I glanced down at the whip still in my hand, then exhaled, straightening my posture.
"Yes. Let's continue."
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