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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/ralo_ramone on 2025-12-27 22:43:05+00:00.

Astur paced the length of his study. Night had closed in, but the perfectly calibrated Light Stones gave the room a warm cream-colored light. His astronomy instruments had collected a layer of dust as he had spent more time away from his research. He kept telling himself that life would return to normal, but as the days went by, the situation deteriorated. 

He paused and looked through the window. The walls. The gardens. The Egg. After hearing the news about the anti-nobility rally, he knew his personal kingdom was in peril. Not only had the rogue Runeweaver Robert Clarke survived, but the presence of Red Corruption made him doubt Byrne’s goals.

Astur had done everything in his power to assist Byrne, and yet things had taken a strange turn. He shook his head. Byrne had never stated that Robert Clarke was meant to die, but Astur was certain that was the true purpose behind his invitation to the anti-nobility rally. What else could it be? A rogue Runeweaver was a threat. There was no reason for the System to have two of them.

Astur shuddered. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw almost all the East Ward covered in a layer of frost. Hundreds of meters of underground tunnels damaged. Summer turned into winter. It was difficult to accept that a single man was responsible for such a feat of power. But that wasn’t the worst part. If the records of the event were accurate, all activities took place while the System was gone.

The mere idea of the System going down sent him into a spiral.

Who was he if not a Lv.55 Radiant Paladin?

Astur didn’t dare to search for an answer.

“Robert Clarke survived,” he said, looking at the shadow in the corner.

“Robert Clarke was meant to survive,” Byrne replied, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Not so long ago, Astur feared no man. A Lv.55 Radiant Paladin could easily deal with any sort of opponent, even those with a similar level to him. There were only a handful of higher levels in the kingdom, half of them old men and women whose fighting days were long gone. Still, the list of men he feared had grown twofold in such a short time. Samuel Byrne and Robert Clarke were both monsters. 

In his nightmares, Astur saw the hellhole that created them: Connecticut.

“Robert Clarke was meant to survive… live on… pull through, capisce?” Byrne said, moving his hand in a strange way.

Astur found himself at a loss for words. If it meant Robert Clarke’s demise, he could overlook the anti-nobility rally and even the Red Crystal Shrine. Playing with Corruption, however, crossed the line. Until now, Astur had turned a blind eye to Byrne’s movements, but his goodwill was running dangerously low.

“I hope the System has a good reason to have its Zealots running around creating Corruption,” Astur said, his commanding voice surfacing through the cracks of his once obedient demeanor.

Byrne raised an eyebrow.

“Inquisitive today, aren’t you?”

“Would you prefer someone who obeyed without complaint?”

Byrne laughed, and for a moment, he seemed younger than he really was.

“Well, yes. I would prefer you not question me. It would certainly make things easier.”

Gwan Astur was a prideful man. Reaching such heights at such a young age was only natural for someone with his talent and drive. However, talent and drive weren’t enough among talented and driven people. Astur attributed his success to his absolute lack of fear. Early in his life, he realized that fear only served to slow him down. But things had changed, and after a long time, Astur finally found something to fear.

The only reasonable solution to kill two monstrous beasts was to sic them on one another, wait for the moment they were wounded, and finish the job. The only problem was that the bigger beast seemed interested in nurturing the smaller one. Assuming that Robert Clarke caused most of the casualties during the rally, he should’ve gotten a few levels that night.

“You will tell me what you are planning,” Astur said.

“I don’t appreciate you giving me orders,” Byrne replied.

Gwan Astur was a prideful man, and now that he knew the taste of fear, he refused to be put in a situation where his powers could be stripped from him.

“Tread carefully, Samuel Byrne. You have too much to lose,” Astur grunted, as mana surged through his body. “If I say one word, the whole kingdom will know that you are behind the anti-nobility movement. Do you think my knights fear the Church? We will unearth every single speck of evidence about your relation to the Red Corruption, and you will be left with nothing.”

Byrne was amused. During his days as a gold smuggler, he had crossed paths with men whose cruelty had no limits. Next to them, Gwan was a little more than a pup with an oversized sense of importance.

“In hindsight, it was obvious that we would end this way. Let me tell you something. You don’t know how long I searched for this world, and I will save it with or without you,” Byrne calmly said, extending his authority beyond his body. With a simple command, he severed the connection between Astur and the System.

Astur paled as the mana died inside him. Of course, he still theoretically had access to natural magic, but no inhabitant of Ebros was proficient with it. Humans weren’t made to wield magic; they just stumbled upon it, or rather, magic stumbled upon them. 

Ebrosians lacked the trigger to kickstart their powers, but luckily for earthlings, the Fountain seemed genuinely interested in them.

“You were a helpful tool,” Byrne said. “But I have nicer ones.”

A hole opened under Astur’s feet, and for a moment he could see a bright white sun floating in the middle of darkness. He felt weightless and fell through. Then, the hole disappeared, as if nothing had happened.

Without a sound, Byrne also disappeared, leaving no trace.

The study was left in silence.

Astur found himself elsewhere. Darkness above, the bright white sun underneath. He felt no fear as he fell. He just hoped the two monsters would kill each other.

* * *

“We are going to tell the truth, but you have to promise you won’t hurt us,” Genivra said, her words coming out slurred and choppy.

“Let us in,” Cedrinor added in a tiny voice, trying to get through the doorway.

Wolf, however, blocked most of it.

It took a full five seconds for the words to sink in, and even then, their meaning slipped right past me. [Foresight] tried to fill the blanks with little success. Before I could respond, Wolf, Zaon, Ilya, and Firana surrounded the two cadets, preventing them from advancing or retreating. Wolf set a heavy hand on the back of Cedrinor’s neck while Firana grabbed Genivra’s shoulders. Both cadets froze.

“You two sound hella suspicious,” Firana said. “Why won’t we talk inside?”

Genivra and Cedrinor were forcefully dragged inside my bedroom by the four orphans, and strangely, they looked relieved to be let in. I didn’t need [Foresight] to read it on their faces—they were terrified. 

“Speak,” Wolf said.

Genivra nervously looked at me, waiting for confirmation.

I mindlessly nodded, my brain fighting to keep up with the events.

“You have to promise you’ll protect us,” she said.

“From whom?!” I asked, alarmed.

The cadets exchanged a nervous glance.

“W-we don’t know, but Lord Astur is missing. We were supposed to meet him today, but when we arrived, the waiting room was crowded. He always vacates the place to meet us. Sir Rhovan was making a scene because he had been waiting an hour, and the aides said they hadn’t seen Lord Astur since yesterday. When Sir Rhovan barged into his chambers, there was no one inside. Even his personal aide hadn’t seen him.” Genivra said, stumbling upon her own words.

I couldn't help but tilt my head, trying to understand.

“So, Astur has been missing for what… twelve hours? That’s it?”

“He’s probably visiting a brothel or something,” Ilya pointed out. “What? That’s what Imperial Knights do.”

Genivra shook her head vehemently.

“They took him, and they will take us!”

“And who exactly are these ‘they’?” Wolf asked.

Genivra and Cedrinor exchanged yet another look.

“W-we don’t know.”

I clapped my hands as loudly as I could to put a stop to the barrage of information.

“From the top. Slowly,” I said, casting my Silence Dome around the room. Something awful must’ve happened if they believed I was going to hurt them.

Cedrinor cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

I tried to piece together what might have happened, but my brain drew blanks.

“Astur entrusted us to spy on you,” he said, picking his words carefully. “It all started after the first selection exam. He ordered us to map your skillset and look for anything out of the ordinary. We… it wasn’t ideal, but we thought it would be best for our position in the Academy to have contacts in the high spheres once you were gone.”

My brain suddenly came back online, and [Foresight] sent me down a new line of thought. Cedrinor’s missing enchanted shirt after the midterms. Genivra’s invitation to the anti-nobility rally. Their childish efforts to convince me to stay in Cadria to help Prince Adrien. 

I closed my eyes as [Foresight] bombarded me with tiny snippets of conversation that made a lot more sense now. Astur and the Church stubbornly pushing for a resurgence of the most traditional ways of evaluation at the Academy. The purple potions magically appearing in the camping supplies. Zealots casually asking Byrne for a teleportation method into the exam grounds.

Ce...

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