Chapter 163
First-Year Students were attending their basic magic spell class.
Among them was Ocell Lampit Borg.
The class was structured to allow free activity, and Borg continued his experiments on magic spells from a spot of his choosing.
Meanwhile, someone approached Borg and casually handed him a note. It had been a while since he received a note.
Borg understood what this meant.
It was to convey specific news to the Formists within the Academia.
After Vargan’s Familiar took up residence in his belly, Borg had hardly received any tasks, but once Vargan seized control of the Goddess Church’s forces, he too began receiving such news.
The note-giver was Hiode Troa Felix, a male student from the prestigious Hiode family known for swordsmanship. He left without exchanging much conversation. His pallor was certainly due to Vargan.
“How did things get this far…?”
Borg pondered while continuing his everyday life.
Professor Lucien, a key figure of the Formists, was dead, and Pertigle had left the Academia.
With their departure, the Formists stationed in the Academia had visibly weakened and lost their center.
Professor Kam remained, but he was currently restricted after getting caught helping the prominent candidate Rezek during the first round of the Student Council President election, which left him under the watch of Clemens.
Due to this misconduct, Rezek declared he would give up the election and actively support Clemens.
Since Rezek wasn’t affiliated with the Goddess Church, Clemens hadn’t yet figured out that Professor Kam was a member, but ever since the election fraud, his movements had been under surveillance.
Moreover, due to Professor Lucien’s death, communication with the outside world was cut off. It had been possible to temporarily connect the Academia with the external communication network using Lucien’s blessing, but that was now a distant dream.
In other words, the Formist forces within the Academia were isolated like an island.
From the outside, no directives could reach them, and there was no capable leader to guide the internal situation.
Vargan was seizing this opportunity and tightening his grip. They were left with no choice… well, there was resistance, but they couldn’t afford to push back.
“What in the world is happening with the Divine Bug…!”
Borg clutched the area near his heart, where he suspected the Divine Bug was lurking.
Vargan had instructed the Formists that they would soon collapse the Academia in the not-so-distant future, and that this aligned with the will of the Goddess Church, urging them to follow him.
In the future, the Academia will be destroyed, which aligns with the wishes of the Goddess Church, so he instructed them to follow him.
Of course, this was not only unbelievable but also something one could not follow. How could anyone believe and follow someone who neither belonged to the Formists nor was a believer of the Goddess Church?
Thus, two individuals who strongly resisted were the Third-Year upperclassmen.
It was impossible to publicly reveal that Vargan was pretending to lead while searching for the forces of the Goddess Church, as it would put the church in danger, so they attempted to assassinate Vargan.
However, for some reason, when they tried to kill Vargan, the Divine Bug within them writhed as if betraying the Goddess Church and attempted to forcibly transform them into mindless Altifes.
It came with excruciating pain.
In the end, Vargan executed them as an example, and the other forces of the Goddess Church had no choice but to keep quiet for now.
However, the correlation was utterly baffling.
How could Vargan’s death be related to the betrayal of the Goddess Church…?
It was unclear.
This was not because Borg lacked information compared to others.
If that were the case, the Third-Year upperclassmen wouldn’t be dying, and Hiode Troa Felix wouldn’t have handed him a note with such a dark expression.
‘Let’s see what nonsense has been written this time.’
After all classes ended and Borg returned to the dormitory.
The first thing he did was check the note he received, rather than changing his clothes.
The note was created with the blessing of Hiode Troa Felix and was nothing more than a scrap of paper with no writing on it for anyone other than the designated recipients.
Borg could see the writings on the note.
He swiftly unfurled the crumpled paper and read it quickly.
The content was not long, so it didn’t take much time. Once Borg finished reading, the paper spontaneously combusted, and Borg’s expression turned grim.
“It looks like they think we’re a joke⎯⎯!”
Bang!
He slammed his tightly clenched fist onto the desk.
His fist trembled, teeth grinding audibly, and the muscles around his mouth twisted violently.
He thought nothing could be worse than Vargan toying with the forces of the Goddess Church, but now this was even worse.
‘Frieda…? Are they talking about that little thief? Hahaha, hahaha! Neither the Goddess Church nor the Formists, and now not even a Noble.’
The note contained a unilateral message appointing Frieda as the head of the current Formist forces, demanding acceptance.
Borg was a believer of the Goddess Church and carried the proud name of the Langfit family.
Yet, Vargan seemed intent on turning them into the dogs of a shabby harlem.
Damn Vargan! You won’t die quietly even if you do die. The Goddess knows all the sins of the present, and in the future, a bloody purge will…!
“Ugh, ughhh!”
Overwhelmed by intense emotions, Borg instinctively thought of Vargan and spewed out malevolent feelings, but before long, he hunched over and trembled like a bug.
Through countless repetitions, his body already knew the season of pain.
Bad thoughts about Erica or Vargan trigger suffering.
The curse he had inscribed was activating, tightening around him.
Even now, yes.
Surely, unbearable pain would soon torment his entire body!
The pain must be tormenting his entire body!
Borg had now learned to predict both the timing and intensity of his suffering.
Shivering, he waited for the pain to strike.
“Gwaaaack, gwaaaack!”
He started rolling on the floor.
A deep ache, like a divine bug gnawing at him, attempted to brutally assault him, even making him think of wanting to die…
“Gugh, huh…?”
Borg sensed something strange.
The time was short. With this level of resistance, the pain should have lasted longer, but it stopped.
That wasn’t all.
A delusion? No way…
While it wasn’t good or something to be proud of, Borg had become so adept at sensing the intensity of the pains from contractual curses that he could be called a curse pain specialist.
He had been tormented more times than he could count.
Just by simple counts, he must have rolled on the floor over two hundred times, so it was impossible for him not to have figured this out.
‘It’s not as painful as I thought…? Why…?’
Borg rolled his eyes.
Meanwhile, his mind was grinding away, expanding the scope of his thoughts.
Then he anchored on one spot.
“…Is the curse weakening?”
He reached a conclusion.
*
As night softly approached, Portlet Troa Erica was heading to Vargan’s room. It wasn’t exactly set in stone, but she had given him a vague heads-up, so it wasn’t an unannounced visit.
Since the festival, Erica’s thoughts about Vargan had become more complicated. Thanks to Bantlo’s random remarks, her mind was wandering aimlessly.
‘Does he think there’s a misunderstanding between Shugenharz and me…?
What misunderstanding could that possibly be?
Are we missing something right now?
With questions filling her mind, Erica continued walking. She soon reached close to his room, and just as she was about to—
“…Huh.”
Erica let out a laugh, half in disbelief.
Just as Vargan’s door seemed to open, the woman stepping out was Frieda.
If it had been Alicia, that’d make sense, but that fox of a girl here? At this hour?
Strangely enough, her dizzy thoughts felt a bit clearer.
Frieda glanced at Erica and spoke.
Even if it’s the rule of Academia that seeks equality, one usually shows at least minimal respect to high-ranking nobles, yet Frieda was brazen.
“Don’t worry, Lady Erica. Unfortunately, what you’re concerned about didn’t happen at all.”
“…What?”
“Don’t frown like that. What if some wrinkles appear on that pretty forehead of yours and ruin Lord Vargan’s affection for you?”
Frieda’s tone was more aggressive than usual.
She acted like she didn’t even need to back down anymore, becoming brazen.
Erica knew that Frieda harbored unflattering feelings towards her and was targeting Vargan, but seeing such overt hostility from her was a first.
Had something changed?
Erica was taken aback. However, more massive and dense than that was not what she was focusing on.
With fury flaring, Erica declared.
“Are you out of your mind?”
The temperature of the air dropped sharply.
The particles of ice responding to Erica’s anger seemed ready to transform into sharp spears and shoot forth at any moment.
Despite sensing that energy, Frieda did not bow. Instead, she curled one side of her mouth up, as if showing off, and shrugged her shoulders.
“You’re not living in a sane world. It’s crazy enough that back in the day, I was crazy myself.”
Frieda tried to brush it off playfully, but her voice cut through like ice.
“I never wanted to bow down to you from the start.”
Erica understood her meaning all too well.
With that, Erica was sure: something had changed between Frieda and Schugenhartz, and Frieda was boldly wielding him as her backer.
What if… it hadn’t been the Academia?
A commoner, especially a woman from the Harem district, would never even think of retorting to the second daughter of the Portlet Family.
Though Erica typically didn’t show much concern for her status, at this moment, her noble blood stirred within her since childhood.
As Erica remained silent, Frieda tried to pass by without shifting her slightly curled lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she assessed Erica’s reaction.
Erica seemed to be suppressing her anger for the sake of noble decorum. Frieda noticed Erica’s long eyelashes tremble slightly, a thrill of excitement coursed through her.
The two women drifted apart.
Before Frieda was completely out of reach, Erica added, “I don’t know what you and Schugenhartz are up to.”
Frieda turned her head slightly.
Ice crystal-like eyes of Erica were staring right at her. The temperature around them continued to drop below freezing.
Erica had no desire to know what was going on, nor did she intend to pry.
She moved her small lips again, saying, “But don’t get the wrong idea.”
Suppressed anger.
The extreme cold seeping through the pressure she was holding back.
Maintaining her noble dignity, she stated, “You’re just being thoroughly used by Schugenhartz.”
⎯ So, if you don’t want to get burned, know your place and don’t mess around.
Though Erica didn’t add the last part, Frieda’s ears weren’t so blocked that she didn’t catch it.
Their gazes met like swords crossing.
They were engaged in a wordless war.
An intense back-and-forth ensued, but it was Frieda who withdrew first. She turned away and continued her steps, gritting her teeth as she said, “I’m not the only one being used. We’re using each other.”
A stubborn retort shot out.
With that last statement, Frieda disappeared, and Erica turned her gaze toward Vargan’s door.
“……”
Erica’s mood soured significantly thanks to Frieda.
For a moment, teetering between turning the doorknob and returning to her room crossed her mind, but there was a purpose for being here.
No matter how upset she felt, she wasn’t foolish enough to let her emotions delay her progress.
Slowly closing her eyes, she exhaled.
After calming her heart, she attempted to maintain a serene expression while turning the doorknob.
However.
“It took you quite a while, Erica.”
“……”
Vargan spoke as if he had been waiting in his chair, and just seeing the arrogant man made Erica’s eyebrows twitch. It had been a long time since she felt genuine anger rising up from the depths at a sight like Schugenhartz.
