SMMA 95

Chapter 95

“I truly have no intention of going out at night. But if that’s what it takes to put your mind at ease, I’ll gladly hear this information you speak of.”

Ihan’s tone was calm and sincere. With his sculpted expression, entirely devoid of humor, even Salko felt an unexpected wave of confusion.

Could he really not be sneaking out at night?

Salko glanced toward one of his companions from the Black Turtle Tower. The boy quietly shook his head — a clear warning not to be fooled.

“……”

Salko’s eyes hardened. As expected, these polished, smooth-tongued nobles were dangerous to trust.

“…Follow me. I’ll explain on the way.”

He muttered something in a low voice to the others.

Curious, Ihan leaned toward one of the students who had once shared his vegetable stew.

“What did Tutanta say?”

The student looked apologetic.
“…He said not to talk to you alone while he’s gone…”

“……”

*        *        *

In truth, Ihan wasn’t the only one sneaking around after dark. Many students had begun venturing outside their towers at night.

They had realized that simply sleeping through the night wouldn’t cut it in this academy.
Whether for food, assignments, or escape attempts, one had to search and scavenge nonstop.

Salko was no exception.

“So you prowl around the school at night, yet you criticize me for it?”

“…I never criticized you.”

Salko replied flatly — and after a moment’s thought, he realized Ihan was correct.

“Very well. Continue.”

“……”

Salko went on with his explanation.

Lately, he and his friends had been investigating the third floor of the main building — the largest, most mysterious structure in the entire academy.

Rumor had it that even the headmaster didn’t fully understand what was inside.

In keeping with such legends, the third floor constantly changed.
Sometimes five corridors would appear. Other times, the stairways leading there would simply vanish.
Occasionally, the path would twist into a dead end within just a few steps.

But with his stoneworker’s perseverance, Salko had finally discovered a pattern.

“How do you get in?”

“When the hour and minute are both odd, when there are no clouds covering the moon, and when your staff is held in your left hand. Follow those conditions, and the proper corridor manifests.”

“……”

For a moment Ihan thought Salko was mocking him — but no, the elf’s face was perfectly serious.

“I… see. That makes sense.”

In any other place it would sound absurd, yet within a magical academy it was almost reasonable.
Frankly, the fact that he didn’t need to ride a unicycle, roast peanuts with lightning, and leap through a ring of fire just to open the hallway was a blessing.

“Thank you. That’s useful information.”

Given that Ihan was still searching for a route to the upper-floor stables, this could prove vital.

“I’m not finished yet. There’s a being on the third floor which might help you.”

“Please tell me it’s not another lightning spirit.”

“?”

“Nothing. Go on — what kind of being?”

Ihan’s curiosity rose.

Even within this academy, magical entities were commonplace — liches, troll hybrids, vampires, lightning spirits, and worse.
Most were hardly the conversational type.

“I can’t say.”

“……”

“I swore never to reveal its identity.”

“I see. You want me to confirm it myself then?”

“No. Finding it is far more complicated than simply entering the corridor. You’ll need me to guide you.”

Salko’s tone was firm, solid as granite. Ihan, on the other hand, immediately grew suspicious.

Is this some sort of trap?

After being ambushed so many times by other students, paranoia came naturally. And Salko’s dislike of nobles and knights hardly helped.

What if this “being” required a human sacrifice, and Salko had chosen him for the part?

“What’s wrong?”

Salko, oblivious to the insultingly wild theories running through Ihan’s mind, tilted his head.

“If you swore an oath to that being, wouldn’t it resent you bringing me?”

“No. It only forbade revealing its identity. Bringing another student is allowed — I even double-checked during Basic Imperial Language and Logic class.”

Tch.

He was every bit as diligent as Ihan himself — not someone easily manipulated like Gainando.

“And you truly think this being can help?”

“I swear by my family’s honor, I believe so. Though my judgment is not always perfect.”

He stroked his chin in a gesture almost dwarven in nature, completely serious.

Well… I do need all the information I can get.

After a brief moment of thought, Ihan nodded.

Finding the upper stables meant he couldn’t afford to be picky, whether the water was hot or cold.

“Very well. When do we go?”

“Tonight.”

*        *        *

Saturday evening.

While other students lounged around common rooms, bundled in blankets by the fire, holding steaming mugs of tea or coffee in one hand and pens or chess pieces in the other — Ihan was ascending the dark, echoing staircase of the main building alongside Salko.

No one else seems to be here, he noted, scanning cautiously for an ambush. Fortunately, there was none.

Salko carried a staff in one hand and, almost alarmingly, a hammer at his belt.
It looked more dangerous than any of the wooden swords carried by White Tiger Tower students.

“I asked around about you, Wardanaz.”
Salko’s deep voice echoed off the stone walls, rough as granite.

“What did you ask?”

“What kind of person you are.”

“……”

Ihan glanced about again, half-expecting Salko to suddenly shout “Die, villainous Wardanaz!” as masked students leapt from the shadows.

Thankfully, nothing of the sort happened.

“I heard you share food with others — all of your Blue Dragon peers, and even students from other Towers as well.”

“I do.”

“Generosity is admirable, but I must warn you against it. Those who never earn what they eat will never value it — no matter how much they’re given.”

Ihan nodded, before he could stop himself.

He completely agreed.

“…?”

Salko blinked in surprise.
He hadn’t expected someone from the Wardanaz family to acknowledge his point without protest.

“You… truly understand?”

“There’s no flaw in what you said. People who don’t labor for something rarely appreciate it.”

“Exactly! What do nobles and knights know of labor’s sanctity? All they do is swagger around waving their swords!”

“In my opinion, nobles and knights should both take turns on farms. They learn swordsmanship as a matter of culture—why not agriculture as well?”

The two workers found instant common ground.

When they finished their impassioned discussion, both exchanged approving looks.
Even Salko’s stony face seemed to soften.

“I must have misjudged you. My apologies, Wardanaz. Some White Tiger brats told me you were a cold-blooded dark archmage…”

“……”

“…But it seems those smug knights were lying.”

“Indeed. Such rumors always cloud our perception; as mages, we must stay vigilant.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

Salko nodded deeply, looking genuinely repentant.

Meanwhile, Ihan thought privately,
Excellent. Whatever rumor spreads next, I can just call it slander.

Salko glanced at Ihan’s hands — calloused and firm, shaped by work in his garden and practical experiments. No soft, pampered noble carried hands like those.

And such people instinctively recognized their own kind.

“Well, you’ve proven me wrong. Forgive me for doubting.”

Ihan’s earthy grip and straightforward bearing finally convinced Salko fully.

But curiosity still nagged at the elf.

“Wardanaz, may I ask something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why do you provide for the others in your Tower?”

“……”

Ihan hesitated.
The true answer was obvious — money.

He got paid. Who would deliver breakfast every morning for free?

But saying that might shatter the admirable image Salko clearly held of him.

So Ihan opted for ambiguity.

“They’re my friends.”

“……”

The response struck Salko deeply.

He had assumed Wardanaz’s popularity stemmed purely from magical prowess, but clearly, there was a human reason as well.

“I could never do so myself… yet now I see there’s some truth in what you nobles call honor. It isn’t entirely empty after all.”

“……”

Ihan discreetly shoved his account book deeper into his robe.
If Salko ever learned how detailed his profit records were, he’d never trust a noble again.

Up ahead, Salko slowed, pointing at a worn statue of an unknown mage.

Its surface was cracked and faded, yet its features were stunningly beautiful — almost inhumanly so.

Strange. Why does it look so familiar…?

“Do you see how broken this statue is, Wardanaz?”

Salko pulled out his hammer. Ihan stepped back cautiously but nodded.

“I repaired it once before. I couldn’t stand to see it in ruins.”

A workaholic, Ihan thought, but he understood.

Just as Yoener watered every plant he saw, Nillia hunted any prey that moved, and Ihan bowed to every professor, Salko clearly had the same occupational instinct.

“And now it’s broken again?”

“Yes. No matter how often I fix it, it always breaks anew. And that—” Salko swung his hammer lightly and began repairing it again “—is the key to opening the hidden passage.”

As the cracks sealed, a rumble echoed through the darkness. The statue rotated once, and a secret corridor opened.

“Go ahead, Wardanaz. From here, you must go alone.”

“Tuntanta… I trust you.”

“I know. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come this far.”

“I really trust you.”

“Why are you repeating yourself?”

Salko tilted his head, utterly unaware of the suspicion racing through Ihan’s mind.

*        *        *

Another student, perhaps?

“!”

Inside the passage stood a statue — a creature carved from stone, combining parts of several animals.

Welcome. I am the Statue of the Forgotten Beast. I have been here a very long time.

Its voice echoed directly into Ihan’s head.

Since you repaired the statue and entered, will you first swear never to reveal my identity to anyone?

“…I swear.”

At his answer, the stone creature’s canine tail swished in delight.

“May I ask… what are you doing here?”

Simply passing the time, it replied leisurely. The room I once guarded was sealed 187 years ago. Since then, I’ve been wandering through this academy’s cooler corners.

“I see… but why must your existence remain secret?”

Because the professors would assign me work again if they knew where I was.

“Truly… a wise creature!”

Thank you for understanding, young one.

At that, Ihan was convinced beyond doubt —
this statue was indeed a being of profound wisdom.