Chương 12: Senile Young Boy

Gilbert and the ten-year-old-looking boy were seated in an office with slanted rays of sunlight filtering through the window and lending a warm radiance to the space while banishing strange shadows to the corners.

Rughsbourgh glanced around before remarking, "You still keep those here..."

His voice trailed off as he eyed the lingering shadows, prompting the Headmaster to fix him with a serious expression and causing the atmosphere to become taut with tension.

After a prolonged silence, Rughsbourgh sighed and shook his head. "You are an excruciatingly dull human being. When will that ever change?"

Gilbert shrugged, his serious expression unwavering as he regarded the boyish figure seated across from him, separated by a round table bearing two coffee mugs.

Finally, Gilbert's gruff voice rumbled forth, laced with respect. "Why are you here?"

Rughsbourgh took a cursory sip of his coffee before responding, a hint of mischief in his tone.

"It's nothing serious... After being cooped up in Milhguard for centuries, can't an old friend enjoy a change of scenery now that there's a new Principal?"

Gilbert stared at him blankly for a few beats before replying.

"No, I know you too well. You didn't travel over eight hundred kilometers just to catch up with old friends or for some fresh air. Cut the lies, Grandmaster Rughsbourgh."

After Gilbert's statement, Rughsbourgh's face crumpled comically, as if he were about to burst into tears.

But his expression swiftly morphed into wistfulness as he retorted, "Isn't this child's face amazing? Gosh, I can scarcely remember the last time I was an actual kid!"

He traced his youthful features with small fingers as he mused aloud.

"Are you going to keep beating around the bush?" Gilbert pressed, his patience waning.

"Things are getting serious at the border," Rughsbourgh said, his tone taking on a somber edge that commanded Gilbert's rapt attention.

"I wish there was something that could have been done to prevent the entire continent from falling to the monsters. Every time I dwell on the past, I'm consumed with self-loathing over such a grievous mistake. The misfortune that befell Selia could have been averted if the leaders of the Central Plains had acted decisively. But ultimately, the fault lies with me for waiting on them."

He sighed heavily before taking a contemplative sip of his coffee.

"But what is done is done. If we don't take swift action, the Protectors won't be enough to stop those monsters from encroaching on the Central Plains."

"But the Central Plains is different..." Gilbert protested. "Of all five continents, ours is the most civilized—"

"But not the strongest," Rughsbourgh interrupted, his eyes hardening as a frown creased his boyish features.

"I've witnessed drifters from the Northern continent who surpassed even our mightiest. I fear that if monsters begin seeping into our lands, coupled with the growing plague of rifts, it won't be long before we too are cast into the depths of oblivion."

His voice thickened with deep-rooted pain and quiet desperation. "Nothing will remain of us. Nothing!"

Gilbert watched him impassively, allowing the heavy silence to linger before speaking in a measured tone, his eyes lowered.

"I suppose you've come here because you have a solution in mind?"

Rughsbourgh leaned back, his dangling legs barely brushing the floor.

"Yes, I have a solution... and I need you to see it through."

Gilbert's eyes slid shut as he shook his head wearily.

"We've had this discussion before, Master Rughsbourgh, Under no circumstances will I return to the Academy... There is no place for me there any longer."

"Gilbert, listen to me."

Gilbert raised his gaze to meet Rughsbourgh's intent stare.

"I have a plan to cultivate a special batch of students..."

Gilbert squinted skeptically as the boyish figure continued talking undeterred.

"They are going to be different from any of the drifters that have ever been seen before... I intend to forge them through the harshness of the Dark Continent itself."

"Stop."

Gilbert's voice sliced through the air with such sharp intensity that he had never heard.

"I know exactly what you're scheming, Master Rughsbourgh. You need to say no more— I spent thirty years in your service, after all, I understand how your mind works.

You want to round up a group of students and abandon them at the heart of a monster-ruled continent?!"

Rughsbourgh averted his gaze, his expression guarded but telling.

Seeing that reaction, Gilbert knew he had struck the heart of the matter.

Rughsbourgh had indeed intended to send a contingent of youths into the nightmarish depths of the Dark Continent.

It was so intrinsically him— to go to any lengths, no matter how extreme or unjust it was, to achieve his end.

Rughsbourgh cared not for the means, only the results.

A disquieting trait that made Gilbert incredibly wary of the ancient man-child.

"It makes no sense!" He raised his voice, leaning forward as he gesticulated frantically.

"Grandmaster Rughsbourgh, you're going to take actual people and consign them to the heart of a monster-infested land simply to protect our continent? You know fully well that they won't last a single day in that hellish place!"

Rughsbourgh waved his small hand dismissively. "What do you mean 'going to'? Pffft, don't you think it's a tad late to be lecturing me about changing course?"

Gilbert's face drained of color as realization set in. "No... You didn't."

But Rughsbourgh nodded his childlike head smugly.

"Oh yes, I did. This project began three years ago. I've already sent three batches of students there so far and lost all communication with them."

"They're... dead?" The words passed through Gilbert's throat like glass shards.

"No, they're not," Rughsbourgh countered, shaking his head.

"I created a life lantern for each and every one of them. Some have perished, yes, but that's not even a quarter of them.

With a hundred students per batch, three hundred have been sent over the past decade. Yet I've not heard a whisper from any of them... The deaths seem quite natural to be sincere."

Gilbert's brow furrowed darkly at those chilling words. 'Something natural?'

How could someone so callously regard the deaths of several students— children sent to face horrors no one should ever experience— as 'natural'?

Rughsbourgh's moral rot was undeniable, but Gilbert still held immense respect for the ancient schemer.

'He might carry this reprehensible personality, but I owe him my life.'

Slowly, Gilbert controlled his inner turmoil, his eyes becoming unfocused as he retreated into deep contemplation.

When he finally spoke, his tone was carefully measured.

"Which means they are still alive, but are stranded in a place beyond your ability to make contact?"

"Precisely," Rughsbourgh confirmed with a nod.

The diminutive figure was not merely the preeminent scholar of their age— he was also a Savant-rank High Magus, the strongest and most erudite academic mind in the Five Continents.

Rughsbourgh had long since mastered the theoretical limits of scholarship, delving into the esoteric realms of conceptual magics like time, gravity, and space.

It was this arcane genius that enabled him to send hundreds of students into the Dark Continent's depths without ever setting foot there himself.

Gilbert didn't know the intricacies of how Rughsbourgh had achieved such a feat, but he understood one fundamental truth: if the ancient sorcerer admitted to losing contact, then he was never meant to lose contact in the first place.

A single, disquieting conclusion loomed. "Does this imply some manner of anomaly?"

"It was most likely some monster we've never encountered," Rughsbourgh stated gravely.

"There are hundreds upon hundreds we've yet to catalog, Master Rughsbourgh," Gilbert pointed out.

"True, but this one feels… different." Rughsbourgh leaned forward, his eyes alight with determined curiosity.

"Damn it, you know how finely-tuned my instincts are, Gilbert. Something is lurking in that forsaken land that has eluded all our notice thus far, and I intend to unravel its secrets."

Gilbert sighed, knowing that there was no way to sway the ancient schemer when his mind was made up.

For all his moral shortcomings, Rughsbourgh's contributions to the Central Plains were immeasurable.

Besides, it wasn't as if Gilbert could refuse. If Rughsbourgh had gone to such lengths to ensnare him, the boyish figure was undoubtedly prepared to ensure his compliance, willing or not.

Devious and underhanded, but quintessentially Rughsbourgh's way.

After a moment's hesitation, Gilbert gave voice to his dread.

"So what do you need from me this time?"

A sly smile played across Rughsbourgh's lips, sending a chill down Gilbert's spine.

That unsettling grin concealed something he desperately did not want to contemplate.

'No... No way would Master Rughsbourgh be that rotten. It's just my mind playing tricks.'

Yet the gleam in those ageless eyes seemed to confirm his worst fear.

"Do you need me to say it, or have you already puzzled out the answer?" Rughsbourgh taunted.

With a shaky voice, Gilbert spoke the unthinkable. "You want me to… teach the next batch of students about survival..."

He loathed teaching with every fiber of his being, a fact Rughsbourgh was keenly aware of, which meant the depraved ancient took perverse delight in foisting such torments upon him.

To Gilbert's immense relief, Rughsbourgh waved off that notion dismissively.

"Nahhhh... I know how much you despise teaching. Why would I ever do that to you?"

His heart had nearly faltered, but it steadied again at the boyish figure's words.

However, what came next was far, far worse.

Leaning forward with a wicked glint in his eyes, Rughsbourgh announced with sadistic glee, "I want you to accompany the next batch of students into the heart of the Dark Continent."

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