It was dinner time.
In the dining hall, Isaac sat with Magnus and Vesper, which has become a custom.
"This place is lousy as always. Oh, but this dish tastes nice."
"You call it lousy, but the Golden Repose is the only dormitory where dinner is provided."
Isaac ate. His two friends conversed, but he wasn't invested in the talk.
Donaston Terra.
His attention moved across the room with the peripheral awareness he brought to every space.
The dining hall was—even with the consideration of how the select few were admitted into the Golden Repose—enormous, enough to contain all the residents from the first-year to fourth-year. Thus, there were many students eating, and upon initial glance, one might've conclude that the scene is chaotic. There was an unseen order within this mild chaos, however.
His eyes accurately caught onto Donaston Terra's sitting. His circle of friends. His eyes swept over them. There wasn't anyone with matching physiques as the assaulters during that night. He directed his gaze away.
"What are you looking at, Isaac? Something's on your mind?" Magnus spoke, bringing his focus back to the table.
"There has been a rumor." Vesper then followed, knowingly. "You and Princess Lyra, during the night."
"Wait, what?" Magnus's eyes enlarged. "Since when were you that close to Princess Lyra? Don't tell me that you—"
"Don't assume things, Magnus. I am not done yet." Vesper interrupted Magnus, rolling his eyes. "Isaac, the rumor. An assault during the night. Is it true?"
Isaac paused. "If you are speaking of this matter in the public, I assume that it has already spread throughout the Academy."
"Yes, save this idiot over here."
"Hey!" Magnus cried.
Chuckling, Isaac decided to reveal, "The rumor is true."
"In here, Golden Repose."
"Yes."
Vesper went silent, pondering. Then, he asked, "Why?"
"My speculation suggests Solari Empire. I find it quite likely to be true."
"…Operatives, you are saying. It aligns with the two you identified during your street performance." Vesper grimaced. Magnus, realizing the heaviness of the subject, went silent. "That means that we aren't safe either. All the higher class students should be in caution."
The Academy was arguably the most important infrastructure of the Aetherion Kingdom at the moment, especially because of the ongoing war. It was only natural that the Solari Empire would target this infrastructure—especially the higher class students who would serve as the strategic weapons of the Kingdom post-graduation.
"This explains why the security is a several times worse than before. But still, the fact that an assault occurred means that the security has already been breached once, and unless we identify the mechanism by which the breach was rendered possible, it will be impossible to stop their advance." Vesper held his head, as if feeling that his thoughts were getting overwhelmed. "What now, Isaac? Any ideas?"
Magnus blinked, having lost track of the conversation in the middle.
"I believe that I have a lead." Isaac replied as he resumed eating. "For now, wait. Don't let this stress you too much."
Vesper sighed, exasperated. "Damn it… what even is this? The only reason why I was aiming to get into the higher class was because of the prestige it gave, but…" He paused. Looked at Magnus. "Do you have any goal?"
"Goal? Not really. Who plans to get into higher class anyway? It's literally the top sixteen among thousands."
"Silas Fulgur."
"Well, he has S-rank skill. We don't call that 'planned.' We call that 'guaranteed.'" Magnus looked around, before pointing at a direction, "And maybe someone haughty like her, Camilla Hedron. Geez, I still wonder why she tried to take down Silas."
"I heard that she is invested in Aldric Zephyr. An attempt to take Silas Fulgur down was likely to prove her worthiness to him." Vesper stated, before finding that Isaac was still, as if having figured something out. "Isaac?"
"Good point." Isaac automatically replied, before standing up, "I will be back in a while."
"What?"
"I need more food."
He walked with an empty plate in his hands.
Camilla Hedron was at a table two rows over with the social orbit of her own. She was speaking to someone on her left. Her expression had the composed engagement of someone performing interest rather than experiencing it.
Isaac looked at her, blinking as he walked by.
It wasn't a glance—the specific duration of a look that landed and held for a moment past the point where social convention would have redirected it.
He knew Camilla quite well. He knew what she would do next, as he removed his gaze from her.
Camilla's peripheral awareness was sharp. She registered the look within two seconds. Her gaze moved to Isaac. Found him walking away by then.
She held it for a moment.
Her social orbit immediately noticed her change. They went silent.
"Isaac Nameless."
Still seated, she spoke authoritatively. Isaac stopped the walk and turned.
"Camilla Hedron of House Hedron," Isaac said.
She looked at him with the expression she always brought to interactions with him—the composed surface and the specific edge underneath it, the quality of someone who had filed him incorrectly and kept finding the filing insufficient.
"You were staring at me," she said.
"Am I not allowed to look?"
"What were you staring at me for."
Isaac didn't respond. He simply turned and walked off. A small growl exited from Camilla's mouth as she abruptly stood up from her seat. Leaving her table, she chased Isaac.
"Answer me, Isaac Nameless!"
They arrived at the food corner. Isaac began to grab the delicacies which he preferred.
"What were you staring at me for!"
It was a small act that could've gone ignored. However, Camilla was someone who never let even the smallest detail went unnoticed.
"Why, if you really want to know." He said without looking at her, "The corridor earlier. Aldric Zephyr's intervention. Your timing."
"Oh, you were there?" Camilla snorted at that, feigning ignorance. However, he knew that she was acting—that she knew he was there. "So what? Did jealousy enter your mind?"
"Your entrance was unnatural," Isaac said. "It was far too forced. In my eyes, it looked like you were jealous of Irine."
"Hah, w-what?!"
He turned and looked at her. "You were rash there, far from your usual self. Getting intimate with Aldric Zephyr is fine, but are you confident that he would protect you from Donaston Terra as he did with Irine?"
Camilla wrinkled her delicate face, knowing what he meant. She clenched her hands, knowing that she couldn't reply with "yes" for certain.
"Sure, you have A-rank: [Mystical Swords]. However, Donaston Terra is not only a third-year, but also the known wielder of A-rank: [Terra Force] and…" He paused, "What was the other one again?"
That's when the light entered her eyes once more, finding a point to attack. "C-rank: [Smog Expulsion]." She loosened her clenched hands as she glared at him in the eyes. "What, even a C-rank skill makes your legs go weak? It means nothing in the fight between A-rank skills."
She gazed at the plate with food that Isaac held.
"Don't act as if we are close, Nameless. You know full well that there is an immense gap between us, one that will never be closed. Your victory over Silas Fulgur was nothing but a chance."
However, her words didn't reach his ears. He was processing.
C-rank: [Smog Expulsion].
The name of the skill matched the exact characteristics he witnessed during that night. Isaac felt goosebumps in his arms, for his hypothesis was now most certainly true.
"Are you listening?"
"No." Isaac finally exited his thoughts and looked at Camilla once more. "Repeat it for me."
She made a light growl with her head lowered, clearly angered. Nevertheless, she breathed out to calm herself down, with the demeanor of someone who realized that she has been acting irrationally and was now being seen in the public with Isaac Nameless, which clearly was a picture that she didn't want.
"Forget it," she said at last. "Don't you dare approach me again."
"I didn't," he replied flatly.
She stomped her foot before turning and leaving. Blinking, he made his way back to Magnus and Vesper, to continue the dinner.
When he arrived at his seat, Magnus was looking at Isaac with the expression of someone who had witnessed something and needed it explained.
"Did you just have a conversation with Camilla Hedron."
"Yes," Isaac said.
"She came to you."
"Yes."
"I thought she—wasn't she an arrogant type? Some even joked about how she's the lesser version of Silas Fulgur."
Vesper looked at Magnus.
"I don't know," Magnus shrugged, "It looked like she has some kind of beef with you, Isaac."
"Beef?"
"Grievance, I mean. It's a slang."
The peaceful chat continued.
Isaac returned to his food.
…
He drafted the letter at his desk after the evening bell.
The iron charm sat at the desk's edge. The knife—sheathed, newly issued—rested beside it. The room was quiet in the way the Golden Repose went quiet at this hour.
He wrote it with the economy he brought to every problem where fewer words produced a more precise result than more words would.
Your betrayal of the Aetherion Kingdom has been flagged.
No signature. No additional detail. The absence of specificity was the point—whoever had sent this knew enough to send it, but the letter itself gave Donaston no surface to locate the sender against. Specificity would have narrowed the threat to someone present at the garden fight. Vagueness kept the sender's identity open, which meant Donaston couldn't rule anyone out. A specific threat could be contained. An unspecified one could not.
The letter took four minutes in total, quite long for a single sentence. The reason lies in his effort to change his handwriting.
He folded it. It was complete. He placed it into his Academy vest. Exited his room and began to walk at a leisurely pace.
The corridor just out the dorm rooms was still quite busy, filled with other students who were chattering before the tenth bell. No one paid attention to Isaac's entry.
He walked. Snuck in a letter that he drafted underneath the door of one room—the room of Donaston Terra that was widely known.
Pretending as if nothing happened, he continued moving, opened a transparent door that led to the garden nearby—the same garden that he and Lyra fought the three.
From there, he waited.
It didn't take long. About ten minutes after, the door of the room barged open, and Donaston was found breathing heavily with his eyes darting to left and right.
The corridor instantly went quiet. Students stared at Donaston, wondering what was wrong.
Panickily, he then shut his door aggressively and stormed off to a direction. People murmured. Isaac observed this through a window.
Isaac gave him a ten-second lead.
[Condensation].
The deionized waterdrops maintained adhesive properties while being frictionless. With them on the soles of his shoes, he was able to drag his feet without generating a noise.
Sliding across the floor in a way that looked similar to the action of riding a skate, Isaac silently opened the door to bring himself back to the corridor. Then, began his chase after Donaston.
Donaston walked fast. Direction east—deeper into the residential wing, not toward the exit.
The deionized soles produced no sound against the corridor's stone.
Donaston didn't look back.
The residential wing's east branch was less trafficked than the main corridor. Students talked, complained, and glanced at Donaston's sudden appearance, before returning to their conversation.
Donaston stopped at the third door on the right.
He knocked thrice in a specific pattern that would be too subtle to notice unless observed in precision. Two beats, a pause, a single beat.
The door opened from the inside.
Donaston entered.
Isaac moved to a position at the corridor's junction—close enough to hold the door in his awareness, far enough that his presence read as ambient rather than positioned. He stood with the quality he brought to every space where the goal was to be present without registering.
Two students. Donaston had gone to two students. Two students were sharing a room at this time, at this urgency, in response to a letter that had been delivered three hours prior.
Three students. One room. The night's cell, assembled and operational.
It was them.
He filed the room number. Filed the cell composition. Filed the full picture as it had assembled across the day.
It is confirmed. Now what.
He needed to determine what to do with it.
He stood at the junction and thought.
Report to professors? Could he truly guarantee that one of the three professors weren't betrayers of the Kingdom?
Given the status of Donaston Terra, he had to assume that the number of those who betrayed the Kingdom would be far greater than what he would expect.
And Donaston Terra is the heir of House Terra. If he works for the Solari Empire, then…
There existed the chance of the entire House Terra having defected.
House Terra. Order of Acacia. Connections. Entry point for the Solari Empire operatives.
To be frank, there wasn't as much that he could do by himself. What he needed was for the others, the public, to become aware.
I need to pit them in a trap.
And there was someone whom he knew that he could trust on this matter.
Lyra Aetherion.
Then, his thought had to pause as he saw someone familiar coming from the corridor's far end, through the crowd.
Cassiopeia was at the corridor's far end, walking toward him. Her notebook was under her arm.
She saw him.
The mild curiosity arrived in her expression.
"Isaac," she said. "What are you doing in this wing?"
Isaac looked at her.
Behind the third door on the right, Donaston Terra was inside a room with two people.
Cassiopeia was walking toward that door.
"Studying layouts of the Golden Repose," he replied, "You probably heard the rumor of what happened to me."
"Plausible." She nodded, before opening her notebook to write it down, "I should probably do the same. Something is going on in the Academy."
He then asked, "What are you here for?"
"Tea time. I was invited by a good friend of mine, third-year. Gertrude Ursula. Ever heard of her?"
He shook his head, "No, I believe not."
"Well, now you heard of her." She waved at him as farewell, before turning to reach that door.
She knocked it twice.
The door opened. There was the woman—one with the exact same body figure as the female assaulter during that night.
"Gertrude. I've arrived," said Cassiopeia.
The woman, Gertrude Ursula, looked troubled. "Cassiopeia, my sincerely apologizes. Something came up, and I don't think I can fulfill our tea time tonight."
"How come? That's unusual." Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow before peeking over Gertrude's shoulder. She then muttered, "Donaston? Is the matter that urgent?"
Gertrude nodded gravely, "Yes, it really is."
"Then I will see you next time." Cassiopeia opened her notebook and filed the details. Closed it and left. The door closed.
Isaac was observing the scene. Noticing his gaze, Cassiopeia raised her head.
"Still studying the layout of this wing?" She asked.
"Indeed." He replied.