Genius Emma gently closed the book, pushed it aside, and picked up Unwan's paper. Before reading it, she suggested that Unwan move to the desk beside her. After he sat down, Emma began to read softly.
— Grimoire name: Grimoire of Universe. Hm… Grimoire owner: Unwanted? Did your parents not want you to be born?
— Ah, no. I grew up in an orphanage. The caretakers gave me that name.
— I see. Spell name: none. Yes, that's quite common, Unwan. When someone first obtains a grimoire, the chances of it having a spell name are low.
Although Genius Emma spoke kindly, her words felt artificial to Unwan. Even her gaze seemed fabricated, as if carefully constructed.
'I think they're resisting the effects of my [Unliked] curse.'
After realizing that the spell had no name, Genius Emma moved on to the next line, but her expression suddenly turned strange.
— Hey… why are the remaining lines missing?
Unwan gave the answer he had prepared in advance. He had known this question would come.
— I decided to keep the rest confidential.
Genius Emma seemed like she wanted to say something, hesitated, then spoke anyway.
— Why do you need to keep so many things secret? Even the grimoire's tier is missing. I can understand hiding spell types or blessings and curses, but even the tier?
— In my opinion, this is a rare grimoire. Who knows, there might be people who want to take it. In that case, my grimoire's tier would determine how many individuals would come after me. Besides, if it were a fifth-tier grimoire, my safety would be guaranteed… partially.
— So your grimoire is fifth-tier?
— Ah… no.
'Higher than that.'
Genius Emma covered her face with her hand. She finally realized she wouldn't be getting the information she wanted from Unwan. She told him that the lesson was over and that he could leave.
But Unwan had a question.
— Excuse me, Genius Emma. Earlier, you mentioned three ways to use spell.
— Yes?
— I understood two of them. But when you explained the third one, I was translating, so could you repeat it?
— Fine. But next time, learn to listen even while you're working.
— Sure.
'My brain isn't split in two, ma'am.'
— The third method is verbal casting. By saying the spell's name, the magic flows more smoothly, similar useful like hand motion. However, in this case, you must specify where the spell will take effect. It's easier to learn, but calculating the direction correctly can be a bit tricky.
Unwan pondered this method for a moment. But it could compromise the secrecy of his spells, so he abandoned the idea.
After thanking Genius Emma, Unwan left the room. He headed toward the dining hall, planning to eat. With so many delicacies around, who wouldn't have an appetite?
Unwan entered the dining hall. Most seats were occupied, though there was still room for many more students. Unlike the morning, an additional long table had been set up, placed horizontally at the far end of the hall.
As Unwan approached to find himself a seat, he noticed that instructors were sitting there. Unlike the students, they were calm and didn't speak to one another. Unwan glanced over them and spotted Genius Nort.
As Unwan quietly sat down, Nort noticed him as well. Unwan gave a small wave and turned his attention to the food.
A wide variety of dishes - fried, boiled, stewed every type of food was present in at least one form. Soups were placed in large pots, while other dishes were arranged on platters.
Unwan took a bowl and poured himself some soup. He tasted a spoonful. He liked the flavor. At the very least, it was better than the orphanage food.
As Unwan ate quietly, a loud voice suddenly echoed, startling him.
— UNWAN. The student named Unwan, please look this way.
Unwan turned toward the entrance, where the voice had come from. Standing there was a thin woman in her early thirties, wearing a green conical hat and a matching dress. She looked around with a gentle smile.
Unwan glanced in Nort's direction. Nort gave him a small grin and a gesture that seemed to say, "Go on."
Unwan stood up. Immediately, the woman at the entrance focused her gaze on him. Her smile faltered for a moment, then returned as she tried to hide her surprise.
— Are you Unwan?
As he approached her, Unwan replied in his usual expressionless face.
— Yes.
— Ah, excellent. Have you passed the official academy examination today?
It felt as though she already knew the answer and was asking deliberately.
— No.
— Then would you follow me? I'll register you officially.
— Sure.
They left the dinung hall together and headed west. The walk wasn't long. After about two minutes, they arrived at a room. She unlocked the door, and once inside, they sat across from each other at a table.
The room was simple, small, empty, with nothing but a table in the center and two chairs. Beside one chair was a small stack of papers. It looked just like a real reception office.
As the woman picked up one of the papers, she introduced herself.
— My name is Isel. I'm an instructor of the additional Night Researchers faculty at this academy. I was told that you've already joined the academy but still need to be officially registered. This has nothing to do with what I'm about to write, but tell me, did you enter this place illegally?
Unwan frowned slightly.
— Never. I was living in an orphanage, and after obtaining my grimoire last night, a few people attacked me. Because of that, I arrived here late in the evening. Since I couldn't go back, Genius Nort let me in and conducted the examination.
— I see. That's fine.
Isel paused to think for a moment, then began the routine questions.
— Your name? Unwan, correct?
— Yes. More precisely, Unwanted.
'Care to bet? She's going to ask why I was given that name.'
'I'm betting on your side.'
But Isel didn't ask. Instead, she simply wrote his name down.
— Your age?
— Fifteen. I'll turn sixteen soon.
— Your parent... sorry. Which orphanage did you grow up in?
— Rolan Dantes.
— The name of your grimoire?
This question gave him pause. Because it was information about him, information that could be used to track him down. He had told Genius Emma its true name, but he had no intention of putting that on paper. Such information could be misinterpreted later.
— Grimoire of space.