Doggone Academy

After finishing dinner, I found myself sifting through herbology texts in Silveryn’s study.

Silveryn’s study was larger than several rooms combined; it even surpassed the archives I had seen in the Acates Temple during my time at Loreile Hall.

The fact that an individual possessed so many texts struck me as wondrous.

And I was enjoying the tremendous privilege of unrestricted access to such a sorcerer’s library.

Sorcerers and alchemists are, after all, proprietary and monopolistic about their knowledge as it directly equates to power and leverage. Which is why, unless there is a trust-based relationship, you couldn’t just walk in and out of their libraries.

I had heard that getting books on magic and alchemy was extremely difficult, if not impossible, for non-practitioners.

I wasn’t sure why she would allow someone so easily inside when there was a chance someone could export data or misuse the information.

If she thought so trivial of me, assuming I wouldn’t even know how to utilize any pilfered knowledge, then I really had nothing to say.

I strode along the aisles of bookshelves. The section on herbology and alchemy was covered in dust. It appeared they hadn’t been touched in quite a while.

My overall knowledge of herbs was still lacking. Advanced stages like refinement of herbs, potion brewing, or the development of recipes were still beyond my reach.

During my search, I discovered a book heavily worn from handling.

‘The Great Encyclopedia of Herbs’

I flipped through the book and skimmed it briefly. It was filled with the types and characteristics of herbs, along with their effects and illustrations exactly the sort of knowledge I needed.

Certain pages had traces of somebody’s handwriting or notes, evident signs of study.

Were these Silveryn’s remnants?

As I was flipping through the book, it suddenly stopped at a certain point, as if it caught on something. It turned out something had been wedged between its pages like a bookmark.

It was a small piece of parchment. Picking it up, I turned it over to find a portrait drawn on the palm-sized paper.

Who could this be?

At a glance, the depiction was of a boy who appeared slightly younger than myself. The boy’s hair caught my attention—it was the same reddish-black color as Silveryn’s.

Written in small letters on the bottom right corner of the piece was the name:

‘Janus’

It seemed to be the name of the boy portrayed in the drawing.

Memories of Silveryn’s words flickered through my mind like a zoetrope.

Her only kin, her brother.

It was quite likely that this was a portrait of Silveryn’s deceased brother whom she had mentioned.

I had the uneasy feeling that I stumbled upon something not meant to be disturbed.

It was puzzling why this portrait was embedded within an herbology encyclopedia.

I looked at the page where the portrait had been placed, wondering whether there was a connection.

‘……!’

On the very page where the picture had been inserted was a story about Venemaril. The herb that Liza and I had sought, which was reputed to grant visions of the future. I revisited the book’s author—someone I had nonchalantly skipped over.

Rutavis de Marthalos

This was the book by the great sage Rutavis, which Liza had mentioned when we were searching for Venemaril in the past.

I felt a strange sentiment—never had I imagined that this would end up in my grasp.

But, did Silveryn also take an interest in Venemaril?

I began to read the description of Venemaril inscribed in the book.

[… It grows by absorbing the chaotic energy of the universe that governs time and space. Such organic matter exists only in Venemaril—it is truly unique. By absorbing the chaotic energy of Venemaril, we can momentarily glimpse behind the veils of time and space. However…]

What came next was missing. The rest of the details about Venemaril had been torn out.

I pondered for a moment the reason behind the torn-out page. Surveying other parts of the book, it was evident that Venemaril’s entry was the sole section missing.

Maybe someone specifically kept that page to read it over and over again.

Perhaps Silveryn was also trying to resolve some issue through Venemaril. And could it be related to the brother in the portrait?

The questions grew more significant but could not be explored any further. This was a sensitive matter. It concerned Silveryn personally, and unless she chose to speak to me directly, this was not for me to know.

I put the portrait back on its original page. I couldn’t leave the book behind as it contained knowledge I immediately needed.

As long as I returned it to where it belonged after reading, without anyone being the wiser, there should be no issues.

***

That night, I dreamed.

I was in a village I had never seen before, the perpetual snow mountains, which I’d witnessed when I first arrived in Weizel, served as the backdrop. This meant that the place wasn’t too far from there.

I walked through walls, as though only my spirit had slipped out. I stopped in front of a two-story mansion built with red bricks. Ivy enveloped most of the walls. The mansion appeared to be abandoned—the iron gate was rusted and the windows were so coated in dust that it was impossible to see inside.

I found myself being pulled into the house; I had no control over it. Moving through the door, I passed through the corridor. It was filled with dust, and cobwebs were strewn about in places. I entered a room that looked like a study. Though not as extensive as Silveryn’s library, there were still quite a number of books.

There was a desk near the window, which I approached.

In the center of the desk was a bunch of parchments tied with string. The papers, despite the absence of wind, fluttered as if caught in a gale, turning the pages at a rapid pace.

And then, I awoke.

Like clockwork, my eyes opened at the same early dawn each day for training. As always, peering outside, the sun had not yet fully risen.

The dream felt too vivid and clear to be dismissed as meaningless. In the past, Silveryn had advised me to take note of such dreams.

However, sounds from beyond the window persisted, unusual from normal days. The noise of people was audible.

Silveryn generally disliked visitors, which rendered the estate perennially silent. For visitors’ voices to be heard at this time was exceedingly uncommon.

I stepped onto the balcony to ascertain the happenings outside.

In front of the mansion were five unfamiliar visitors. Silveryn, accompanied by several maids and a butler, was facing them.

One of the visitors held in his arms a woman smeared in blood.

Silveryn’s expression was also hardened, serious. She talked with the visitors, but their words were not easily heard.

Leaving the room, I descended the stairs. The main entrance of the mansion was wide open, which allowed me to overhear the commotion.

“Come this way, quickly.”

A maid urged someone along hastily. The man holding the bloodstained woman rushed to follow the maid. Passing by me, she appeared to be a young girl about my age.

Silveryn, at the entrance, wore an exasperated expression as if annoyed by the turn of events.

I drew nearer to overhear the conversation.

Silveryn inquired,

“Do you have any idea where they might have come from?”

“They came and went in the blink of an eye last night. We couldn’t make them out in the dark. And after that, no matter how thoroughly the villagers searched, they found no trace of their whereabouts.”

Silveryn roughly ran her hands through her disheveled hair and sighed deeply.

“Understood. I’ll investigate it today, so please go for now. The girl’s injuries aren’t too severe; they won’t be life-threatening. We’ll take care of her until she is stabilized.”

“Thank you. Thank you, sorceress.”

The guests bowed repetitively, grateful to Silveryn, finalizing the conversation before they left.

Silveryn let out a deep sigh, turned around and as she entered the mansion, she noticed me.

“Oh, you’re up?”

“Yes. What happened to cause such a commotion?”

“Ghouls have appeared in the village. Seems like they broke into a household in the middle of the night causing a ruckus.”

Ghouls? I doubted my own hearing.

Silveryn had once mentioned that magical beasts emerged once or twice a year. But I hadn’t envisioned it would involve ghouls.

“Ghouls are here too…?”

“No. This is the first time ghouls have appeared. They typically move in groups, so if there is one, it usually means dozens are nearby. It’s become quite a bother.”

The thought of dozens of untraceable ghouls was alarming. Given their number, they could easily transform an entire village into a bloody mess in less than a single night.

“It seems more serious than I thought.”

“Ghouls upending peace in tranquil Weisel, it’s all too headache-inducing. For today, training is canceled. I need to head to the village immediately.”

For me, this was a rarely encountered opportunity to accumulate actual combat experience. I couldn’t just languish doing nothing.

Having even one more person who has dealt with ghouls could be a boon compared to having none.

“I would like to come along.”

“No.”

She cut me off so resolutely, it left me momentarily lost for words. She continued forward hurriedly.

“I have encountered ghouls before.”

Hearing this, she paused for a moment. After a brief contemplation followed by a sigh, she spoke,

“Fine. But do not draw that light sword in front of the villagers. Only reveal it if you’re truly at death’s door.”

“Understood.”

“Prepare to leave right away. If we’re unlucky, you might be seeing blood from the break of day. So brace yourself.”

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