Capítulo 59: The Butterfly Effect (5)
'It's a good thing because it was about to be a nuisance anyway. Things would have gotten out of hand again.'
Even on second thought, I realized that I had done well to turn down Professor Lars' offer of a scholarship. Because as Talia listened closely, Lars was indeed a madman.
He was so studious that he even sold his soul for his thesis. Studying too much can make a person crazy.
Lars was a case in point.
"Ugh. I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it.'
That sticky gaze from a moment ago was the worst, and if you think I can still feel the aftermath of it, you're wrong…
"Huh? Isn't that Professor Lars over there?"
Talia's words sent a chill down my spine.
I clamped my mouth shut to stop myself from joking.
Talia was telling the truth.
Professor Lars was staring at me from a distance.
He looked troubled. I can clearly see him thinking about how he will get me to be his student, and it doesn't look good.
Damn it.
Why do I only get stuck around crazy people?
The question rises in my chest, but I manage to hold it in and exhale.
Oh well. I've turned him down twice; why would he come again?
He's an elite professor at Eldain, and he has his pride. Probably not for something like this…
It was messed up.
Often disgustingly so.
* * *
"Be my graduate student." {1}
"I don't want to."
"I'll give you a large grant. You can graduate from Eldain for free and…."
"I have a lot of money. Don't you know, I'm from House Reinhafer."
"And a great deal of honor...."
"What kind of honor is it for a rascal? It's a luxury."
Professor Lars was relentless.
He kept coming back to me with as much enthusiasm as he had for his studies.
He showed up here, there, and everywhere I was.
The creepiest was in the restroom.
It was the worst of the... worst when I was sitting on the toilet seat and suddenly heard the professor's voice.
What an asshole.
"Haa...."
What should I do in times like this?
I thought and thought and thought, but there was only one answer in the end.
Attack it head-on.
There is no other answer.
* * *
"Haha, thanks for taking the time to talk to me. Sitting side by side like this, it's like we're already master and pupil, which isn't a bad feeling."
Arriving at Lars' private study, I had to listen to that as soon as I sat on the couch. Maybe he's more sincere about me than I thought.
But no.
"I never said anything about being your student, don't take this the wrong way."
That's too arrogant for a professor. But Lars doesn't even care. At least, not that I've noticed. He's too generous with talent.
Lars was the only one who would understand if I cursed at him while being a student here.
On the other hand, if a talentless junior showed such an attitude, it wouldn't end in discipline.
…Just thinking about it makes my head spin again.
"I came to see you, Professor Lars, because I wanted to ask you something."
"Ask me anything."
Lars's eyes lit up, and I barely managed to stifle a sigh.
"Why on earth would you want to take me as a graduate student, even among the upperclassmen, in the first place. There are quite a few people who are talented in magic, including Her Imperial Highness..., aren't there?"
It was true.
I am not the only student with a talent for magic.
There are plenty of others. Of course, my revealing theoretical knowledge may have played a role, but that's something that can be resolved with calm teaching.
What's the point of chasing me around like this?
Me, who sings every day saying I hate it? How old are you?
I went to Lars' lab to find out.
I thought it would give me some answers.
But what I got back was a mumble.
"Hmmm… well, I don't know. One thing I can tell you for sure is you're underestimating your talent."
"What?"
I furrowed my brow. Lars clasped his hands together.
"You are a genius like no other. My years of research cannot be completed by simply being good with magic. My thesis. It is to save the world's many weaklings."
"Saving the weak."
I echoed his words back to myself.
The research he's doing at this point. The content of his soon-to-be-published paper.
It was something I already knew.
The name was something like this.
[On the crafting and processing of artifacts and their enhancement using demonic byproducts].
It's a big name, but it boils down to this, based on the game's systems.
Only after the publication of this thesis would you be able to slay a demon and use its materials to craft equipment, which could then be enhanced to make your units stronger.
Inner Lunatic is, unsurprisingly, a dirty tricky game.
The difficulty is insane, and you'll need to use different weapons for different situations.
Because of this, I decided to take advantage of the buff system this time. Sure, there's a chance of failure, but it's more than offset by the luck of having maxed it out.
For me, there's no reason not to use it.
Furthermore, the sooner the crafting of items from beast derivatives is opened up, the more the price of these discarded byproducts will skyrocket and become scarce on the market.
This will be of great benefit to me.
'Furthermore, I have the Chasers region. A region where the beast is rampant. I can get a lot of beast byproducts from there.'
In other words, a chapter of immense wealth, and that's where this thesis comes in.
'I was wondering when that was going to be finished. It must have been around this time.'
If that's the case, I get it.
I don't know why he needs my help, but I know that in the game, units with the [Mana Sensitive Genius] talent randomly became assistants and helped Lars.
The more magically accomplished they are, the faster they can complete their thesis.
But.
Why it should be me is another matter.
"Okay. I'm still unsure why it has to be me, but let's put that aside for a moment and ask another question instead."
I cleared my throat.
"Why are you so obsessed with that thesis? It's about magecraft, the study of making artifacts. If you don't even patent it and just publish it as a thesis, there's nothing in it for you except maybe honor."
Naturally, Lars does not apply for a patent and makes his technology available to all. He says only blacksmiths have benefited from it.
I wouldn't want a sweet potato like that. I'd eat the whole thing.
"I just don't like to see the weak… I don't like to see them die at the hands of someone without even a struggle. Like… like my only son did."
My pupils narrow slightly.
As usual, the case has taken an unexpected turn.
I begin to listen intently to Professor Lars. What follows is a bit darker and has a bitter tang to it.
* * *
"I am the eldest son of the Viscount of Celestia, the head of the family, a man who came to Eldain with no particular talent but theory and rose to the rank of professor."
"I've always gotten mediocre marks in practicals, and my fellow students and people look down on me, no matter how well I do in the classroom."
"I have always overcome my low self-esteem with research. I've worked my way up to the rank of professor and even married a woman… but I'm still a professor to my country. No one ever gave me full credit for my accomplishments. All my work and papers were listed under someone else's name, and everyone ignored me."
"Amidst all this, my wife and I were blessed with a son whom I love dearly. Our only child grew up to enter Eldain, and he graduated from the Academy with flying colors. He said to me, 'Father, I will honor your name among others,' he said to me, and I was overjoyed."
"My son is in the Emperor's direct service, fighting in the most advanced positions. He would win, make a name for himself, and finally bring honor to House Celestia."
"But my son died on that battlefield. Barely had the war begun when he was killed by an arrow with a tiny bit of magic in it. Does this explain why I have been writing and researching for the weak?"
* * *
There was a profound silence.
The story was literally dark. It was pitch black, so black that I couldn't see straight.
Monotone in color.
It was unpleasant to listen to.
But that was the reality I was in now. It was the world.
It was where I was supposed to be.
But that's why I have to be sober.
If I am to survive.
I stood up and said.
"I'm sorry, sir. But I'm sure there's someone out there who can do the job; it's just not me. So find the right student to help you, Professor."
"...."
With a thud, I left Lars's room, slamming the door behind me.
Ultimately, I rejected Lars' offer.
I was only there to find out why he was interested in me in the first place. I was going to reject his proposal from the start.
As such, I made the right decision.
Or so I thought.
For some reason, I felt a pang in my chest.
Maybe it's because the professor I saw on the monitor was different from the one I saw in front of me, or I'm starting to seep into this world too much.
I don't know, but time has passed again.
My replacement will come, as always.
I don't care anymore.
I am more concerned with surviving here than anything else.
Everything else comes after.
* * *
"I didn't think you'd find yourself back at House Reinhafer, Garen."
"What's wrong with me coming home?"
"Is this your home?"
Theo von Reinhafer.
And a cold wind blew between them.
A chill runs down Rodwell's spine as he stands between them.
He was shaking with fear and panic.
Even he, a strong man, could hardly handle what was happening.
What if they set their minds to it?
The two of them could clash swords here.
If he did, he would be one hundred percent certain to die.
The wind pressure alone would tear Rodwell's body apart.
Such an overwhelming force was Theo and Garen right in front of him.
The good news is that Garen has yet to reach the heights of Theo.
But things weren't all that great for Theo.
Sadly, his oldest son, Garen, knew this best.
"It's time to give up. You don't have much time left, do you?"
"It's none of your business."
"The Archduke will always be by your side, Father. He'll raise his head and swallow you whole whenever you're weak."
"You make it sound like you want that to happen."
Theo's voice, heavy with magic, slammed into the floor.
Garen swayed for a moment but then regained his composure. He centered himself, stood up straight, and faced his father.
This was a significant development. The last time he had left the family, he hadn't been able to withstand even a fraction of his father's momentum.
But Garen didn't seem to mind.
"What on earth are you afraid of? All you have to do is leave everything in the hands of the Grand Duke and no one else. Even the Imperial Family won't be able to touch Reinhafer. Tragedies like that day, when that mother died, will no longer...."
"You know who killed that mother, and yet you say so?"
Theo's voice, which had been speaking without a pause, suddenly became furious.
Tsutsutsutsuts…!
(cheucheucheucheucheu…!!)
An enormous amount of magic power rose and resounded harshly on the ground.
'My lord… he's serious.'
Rodwell could barely keep himself on his knees as he gasped in horror. This was no magic to be taken lightly.
There was a reason Theo was so angry. There was a reason why Theo was so angry.
It was his first wife.
A woman killed in a demonic attack during the Night of the Slaughter.
"You're getting emotional."
"This is not your home. You are not my son either, so get lost."
"Where did you hide that sword?"
"…What?"
Theo's eyes narrowed once more.
How far was his first son willing to go to challenge him?
Even he couldn't tell.
Garen simply continued.
"Sword of the First Lord. Stormbringer. Hand it over."
It was his first son again, making outrageous demands.
Anger surged through him, but Theo fought it down.
"It's not yours."
"It doesn't belong to anyone else."
"It's already out of my hands. So don't even dream of touching it. You will get your hands on nothing. At least as long as I live."
Theo's declaration made Garen chuckle sickeningly.
Garen's cold voice descended like a frost on the small rooftop of Reinharbour Street.
"Well, then. We'll just have to wait and see, won't we, Father?"
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