Baston only opened the old book out of habit.
After all, he had avoided it for a week. He did not deliberately do it since his mind had simply been hollow after everything that happened in the town. Also, he was a little curious about the reward.
He had received an excellent result which presented him with new elemental magic. A quiet sense of triumph came up inside his heart.
He thought that was the end of it but it wasn't. The moment the leather cover parted, the truth stared back at him. A new quest unexpectedly had been issued few days ago.
"Get a good result at the exam…"
His heart dropped since the exam had already ended.
He hadn't even tried and he had skipped several classes. He wandered aimlessly and convinced himself that nothing urgent required his performance. Unfortunately, his absence led him into his doom.
The book had waited and now, beneath the faded quest text was the evaluation.
It was the worst performance of him. It was the first time he had ever seen that word.
The perfect one had given him a puppet. The excellent one had granted elemental magic. The good one gave consumable items and the bad one offered a thin information that might or might not be useful.
As for the worst, it gave punishment.
His eyes moved downward slowly, looking at the penalty that was saying about the delayed fatal attack.
For a moment, Baston didn't breathe since the description was precise.
He would be given one month before the punishment was activated automatically. He could initiate it earlier if he wished but he could not avoid it. When it struck, he would lose his consciousness for one week.
After that, his body would be fully healed. A fatal attack that did not kill and a punishment that was meant to remind him.
He rubbed his face slowly, "So this is what my negligence costs…"
The old book did not care about his mood. It did not care that he had been mentally exhausted. It judged his performance wholeheartedly.
He scanned the lines again, searching for the loopholes but there were none.
The punishment must be accepted. It could not be blocked, redirected, or mitigated through the conventional protection. The wording was clear and he laughed quietly.
"Protection spells… Barriers… Healers… You've already thought about that, haven't you?"
The old book never missed his own instinct. It anticipated the resistance. If it was declared that the strike was unavoidable, then even the strongest defensive magic would fail when the moment came.
He leaned back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He had one month for the time. That meant the attack could happen anytime after thirty days if he did nothing.
At worse, if he triggered it carelessly, it might strike him in public. If he collapsed in front of the others, the rumors would spread instantly.
An assassin who suddenly tried to kill a student in front of everyone. He imagined the consequences since there would be investigations, questions, and suspicion. His room would be searched, the old book would be discovered, and his secrets would be exposed.
He sat upright again, "No, I have to choose the timing..."
If the punishment could be initiated earlier, then he would control where and when it happened.
He could initiate it when he was inside a locked room with prepared bed and a healer nearby. He had to provide someone who would confirm that he was alive and not dying. Someone who wouldn't ask too many questions.
This one person must not panic himself or herself after seeing the fake murder in front of them. If not, everything would soon turn into chaos then. Even though so, the quick and silent attack was really hard to explain thoroughly.
After all, the punishment that attacked without wound was a perfect tool for fear.
Anyone could look at him afterward and claim anything. It was because of poison, curse, divine judgment, or even insanity. He sat forward with elbows on his knees and forced his thoughts into an order.
"One person," he repeated, "Only one that I can trust but who?"
Panto was loyal in the way that the anxious people were loyal. He clung to those who made the world feel predictable yet he also talked too much when he felt panicked.
If he collapsed and stayed unconscious for a week, Panto might run to the teachers or other people. That would invite the adults with sharp eyes and dangerous curiosity.
Alicia was safer in a different way. She understood the discretion and she understood the cost of a noble gossip. However, bringing her into this meant stepping deeper into her world, letting her family taste his secrets. That could become a chain he couldn't break.
He could hire a healer from outside, one with no ties to the academy but such healers would ask the questions for their own safety. If they witnessed a strange attack with no source, they would report it to the academy and the others.
Baston exhaled slowly.
The old book wasn't trying to kill him. It was trying to isolate him and it forced him to face a simple truth that he didn't have his own people. It was not truly since he had the allies of convenience but his friends had the limits.
His fingers tightened around the edge of the mattress.
A week of unconsciousness meant seven days without control. He could not even command his puppets if his mind was gone. At worse, he didn't know how the old book would judge him during that week.
Would it consider him inactive?
Would it punish him again?
He swallowed, "No... I can't let it happen at a random time."
He needed the punishment to strike at the safest moment possible when no one could connect it to politics and rumors.
The more mysterious his collapse appeared, the more dangerous it became. That was when he realized something else. The old book's penalties always sounded clean on paper, but in practice, they never were.
"Delayed fatal attack," he murmured, "What does that even feel like?"
Was it a blade of pain?
Was it a strike on the heart?
Was it a curse that lock his mind?
He didn't know and not knowing was the worst part. The mystery was manageable when it belonged to the other people. When it belonged to him, it became a trap. All in all, it was the real difficulty.
His trust was indeed expensive.
He began making mental notes. He had to choose a quiet place, he had to inform one person only, and he had to create a believable excuse. Then he paused, thinking what would happen in a week.
A full week of unconscious would mean vulnerability and anyone could act around him. Several events could unfold without his knowledge.
If a quest triggered during that period, would it fail automatically?
The thought unsettled him more than the punishment itself. He turned toward his desk where several folded messages lay.
If he was going to disappear for seven days, he needed to understand what currents were moving around him.
Right now, most of the messages were from Panto. It seemed the boy collected the rumors obsessively.
The gray-robed visitors were seen near the merchant districts, several strange inquiries about the clown were detected at several taverns, two students from the academy transferred quietly, and a sealed letter was delivered to an instructor at night.
None of it proved anything, but together, they felt like the threads that were waiting to be pulled.
And then, there was Alicia's letter. The message was short and direct, saying him to come to her house for the vacation.
He stared at it seriously. The last time he traveled with her, the trouble had appeared almost immediately. Clark's interference had triggered a quest and the old book had forced him to perform.
What if her household created another misunderstanding?
What if Clark was there?
What if someone worse than Clark misunderstood his presence entirely?
The noble estates did not operate on simple logic. The proximity could imply intention, such intention could imply alliance, and the alliance could imply engagement. He grimaced toward his fate.
"Girls truly are one of my greatest sources of problems..."
Yet, he couldn't deny something else.
Whenever he stepped into complicated environments, the old book reacted. It issued new quests, new evaluations, and new rewards.
If he remained stagnant, he risked another worst. If he moved, at least he would be performing.
And if he was already facing the inevitable punishment, perhaps it was better to gather the strength before the month ended.
He slowly folded the invitation, "I'll go…"
*****
The academy changed quickly once the examinations concluded.
The noble students returned home in grand carriages, the merchant students went back to assist their family businesses, and the commoners sought temporary work. For many, the survival came before their ambition.
Baston observed it quietly.
He no longer belonged fully to any of those categories. He had money now and it was enough to avoid immediate hardship.
Panto and Alicia had ensured he lacked nothing basic. Still, the difference between him and Alicia became painfully clear when he stepped into the carriage that was prepared by her family.
It was larger than his old room. The carriage was adorned with soft seating, cushioned interior, and a small table that was full with refreshments. Even the ride felt smoother as if the wheels refused to touch the uneven ground.
More importantly, he was alone.
Alicia had chosen a separate carriage to avoid the misunderstandings.
He preferred this way because the silence was easier to manage than the noble conversation. As the carriage rolled forward, he allowed himself to focus on something productive toward his new element which was Gale.
It felt sharper than wind. Unlike a breeze or a gust, it was more like a blade made of air.
He tested it carefully, letting a thin current formed between his fingers. It vibrated with restrained sharpness and it felt the magic itself could cut something.
With precision, it could slice like a dagger. With enough control, it could kill without leaving a weapon behind. He imagined an assassin who was wielding it.
There would be no need for steel and trace. The result was just a collapsed body and few confused witnesses.
It was rare, dangerous, and valuable. The families like Versance and Herbiens guarded their elemental bloodlines fiercely which were ice and flare. Their power passed through carefully arranged marriages and prestige that was preserved through control.
If they discovered a person who possessed multiple rare elements, they wouldn't ignore it. Surely, they would claim it.
He closed his hand, "I must not show this…"
Such attention had benefits but too much attention invited the restriction.
The carriage continued for several hours. The scenery shifted from the academy roads to broader scenery before there were layered gates. When it finally slowed down, a guard's voice sounded outside.
"Young Master Baston, we have arrived..."
However, the carriage did not stop immediately. It passed through an outer gate then another courtyard.
The estate stretched far beyond what he expected. The guards lined the path and the workers paused while bowing down. Surely, it was not to him but to Alicia. It was to the house where they devoted their lives.
The scale of authority pressed down like invisible weight.
When the carriage finally stopped near the main building, he stepped out and felt very small.
Alicia exited her carriage first. Several servants approached instantly and the guards bowed down in precise unison while he remained slightly behind. Before he could follow her inside, one of the guards gently raised a hand.
"Please wait here, Young Master Baston. The lord of the house will receive you."
He nodded. As a guest, he must follow their etiquette. He was not equal here since he was a variable.
He sat in the designated waiting area and the servants offered water for him. He accepted it, observing everything quietly. No one stared at him openly.
That was more unsettling than the hostility. He felt forgotten in this place.
*****
Inside the estate, Alicia walked toward her father's study. Even as his daughter, she felt the pressure of entering that room. She knocked the door before a voice came to her.
"Come in..."
Her father stood when he saw her and embraced her briefly, "Alicia, welcome back. You must be tired but first, I need to verify something."
She nodded, thinking nothing was strange toward such attitude.
He questioned her about Prius Academy, about the incidents, and about the merit that was gained while facing the danger.
She answered carefully and he seemed satisfied. Her protection item had functioned. She had not shamed the family and she had navigated the events properly. By then, she spoke again.
"Father, I have a request…" she pleaded a little, "I invited a friend to stay during the vacation. He was interested in our library and I was hoping he might be allowed the access to general materials."
There was a pause before she continued, "I assure you that he seeks only the general knowledge one."
It was partly true. She wanted Baston to access the information about unusual magic and some patterns that might connect to the cult.
She didn't fully understand the shadows that were forming around the kingdom but she had seen how he thought. If anyone could notice something that the others missed, it would be him.
Her father leaned back, "I must know his identity first."
Alicia's expression tightened slightly but she nodded, "Of course…"
She understood since the trust was not extended freely in the noble houses. After she left the study, her father remained seated for a moment. Then, he summoned the butler.
"I want a full investigation," he said calmly, "It's about the friend that Alicia invited from his background, his family, and his affiliations."
He did not distrust his daughter but his affection did not override the caution.
Instead of believing what his daughter told him, it was better to seek the truth by deploying his many resources.
Who knew if this friend had hidden intention or purpose here?