Chapter 90: Omen (8)
A single name written in various handwritings.
The notebook filled with the words ‘Allen Amiel,’ I only looked down at it in silence.
‘This is…’
If it had been someone else’s notebook, I would have just brushed it off and turned the page.
But this wasn’t someone else. It was Allen Amiel.
Since he was none other than the owner of this notebook, I simply couldn’t take it lightly.
‘……Allen Amiel in his past life had serious mental problems.’
Even the major incidents I knew of alone were too many to count on my fingers.
Even I, who hadn’t had much connection with him, could recall plenty—so then how severe must the reality have been?
There was a reason why he had received fear and awe, praise and condemnation all at once.
Let me put it more extremely.
If Allen’s personal might hadn’t reached the level where one dared to call him a Hero, then he would have ended his life under the executioner’s blade long before my own death.
In other words, though he had been a disaster (人災) one could never hope to believe in, his overwhelming ability as a talent (人才) had been more than enough to offset every risk, and so he had ended up being called a Hero.
And among those risk factors, the one that accounted for the largest share was the fact that his mind had not been sound.
That was a truth no one could deny.
‘…But could it be that it wasn’t because of Prison Island?’
Prison Island Cuervo.
Though called a prison, in truth it was little different from a place of exile for death-row convicts.
There was no guarantee of prisoners’ rights or welfare—survival itself wasn’t even ensured in that wretched place.
I had only heard rumors secondhand, but they said Prison Island Cuervo combined a harsh environment with brutal forced labor. Even meals were poor, and abuse that bordered on torture was dealt out without hesitation.
Most died without lasting even a year, or else took their own lives. Those who survived usually suffered from disabilities or mental problems.
If one had been tormented for years in such a place, in such concentrated, merciless fashion, who could possibly endure with a sound mind?
Perhaps that was why.
Despite the bloody path and rumors surrounding Allen Amiel, there had been quite a number of people who defended him earnestly, calling him a victim of the times or an unfortunate casualty.
Even if not to that degree, it wasn’t hard to find people who thought, ‘Anyone would turn out like that if they went through such things.’
I myself had been one of those people.
But.
This right now…
“……”
I silently flipped through the front and back of the notebook.
There was nothing particularly special inside.
A diary.
Or notes that bordered on trivial memos, at best.
There was no sign of criminal intent, nor any suspicious traces.
“Hm.”
As I scanned the notebook for quite a while—
I suddenly realized what I was doing at that very moment.
“……Tsk.”
It was an action so dangerous that I couldn’t excuse myself.
If I were to be caught like this, any misunderstanding would be reasonable.
No, it wouldn’t even be a misunderstanding.
What I was doing right now was, in truth, inexcusable.
And yet I couldn’t stop.
As always, it was for the sake of a little certainty.
For Allen’s sake, for mine, and beyond that, for countless others.
‘Something more… something that could be a clue…’
Not knowing when the room’s owner might return, my heart naturally grew impatient.
But precisely at times like this, one had to remain calm. So I repeatedly took deep breaths, steadying my chest.
‘First.’
I carefully looked around the room.
There was nothing special to see.
To be more precise—aside from the furniture that originally came with the room, there was not a trace of personal belongings.
At most, textbooks, stationery, and tools for maintaining his sword.
Clutching my handkerchief, I stealthily reached toward the wardrobe.
It was to check whether any kind of mechanical device or trap had been installed inside.
‘Clean.’
Finding nothing inside, I immediately opened the wardrobe doors.
The wardrobe was utterly empty.
Two sets of academy uniforms, one for each season.
A few pieces of clothing that looked like casual or training wear.
Next, I moved to the desk drawers, opening them from the bottom up.
As I checked, I found the wardrobe had actually been in better shape.
The drawers were quite literally empty.
Except for one thing.
On the very top drawer sat three medicine bottles neatly arranged.
“……”
I silently picked them up.
Then I opened the largest bottle and took one pill from inside.
“This is…”
It was a medicine I knew well.
A sedative.
And not a weak one, but one considered fairly strong.
The next bottle was just as familiar.
It contained sleeping pills.
‘But this one, I have no idea what it is.’
The pills in the third bottle were unfamiliar.
They were tiny, about the size of a fingernail.
There were so many that even if one were missing, it wouldn’t be noticeable.
I carefully wrapped one in my handkerchief and slipped it into my pocket.
‘Time to go.’
There didn’t seem to be anything else worth finding here.
First, I returned the notebook to its original place.
“……Right.”
Looking once more at the page filled with the words ‘Allen Amiel,’ I gave a small nod.
There was still nothing certain.
Perhaps he had simply written his name in different scripts across a page.
Perhaps he had just been practicing handwriting.
Perhaps he had done it for no reason, without meaning.
In short, maybe I was giving too much weight to something trivial.
No, I sincerely hoped that was the case.
It had to be.
‘First, I need to figure out what kind of medicine this is.’
And I also had to summon the Spider, who still hadn’t answered my calls, and hear a more detailed explanation.
‘Almost forgot.’
I tore a page from my notebook and wrote down the details of tomorrow’s appointment.
After finishing tidying up, I slipped it into the mailbox attached to each dorm room door as I went out.
There was still quite a bit of time left until the promised hour with Cecilia.
Normally, I would have grabbed a quick meal—but I wasn’t in the mood.
Maybe I’d just take a walk nearby.
As I turned to retrace my steps with that thought—
―……Kii.
“Hm?”
A faint sound, so weak it was barely there.
But I had heard it more than once before.
I stopped walking and strained my ears.
―……Kiiii.
Again, that faint groan reached me.
I hurriedly turned and rushed toward where the sound had come from.
Even before the shadows, a dreadful sense of foreboding clung tightly at my back.
And as always—ominous premonitions never failed to come true.
“……You.”
― Kii…… Kiiiik……
A secluded corner no one would pay attention to.
There, sprawled out carelessly, the Spider could only let out weak groans.
Nearly half its body looked torn apart by something, left in a wrecked state.
After leaving the dormitory, I immediately headed toward the meeting place with Cecilia.
From the dormitory hallway, I had been sprinting at full speed. A few students looked at me in shock or glared as I passed, but I had no time to worry about such trivial things.
Even now, held in my arms, the Spider stubbornly clung to life as its body slowly dissipated as if oxidizing into nothing.
― ……
When I had first found it, it had at least made faint groans. Now it made no sound at all.
Only from time to time did its body twitch or tremble violently.
I had tried every method I knew—Miracles of Healing and all else—but nothing worked.
In the end, of all the people I knew, there was only one most knowledgeable about spirits.
I had no choice but to rely on Cecilia.
Once I reached that conclusion, the only thing left was to act.
When I regained awareness, I was already halfway down the dormitory hallway, running out.
As my head cooled a little, I quietly chanted a blessing.
Not a blessing for the Spider—but for me, a blessing to strengthen my body.
“…Just hold on a little longer.”
― ……
The Spider gave no reply.
That made me grit my teeth.
Its half-vanished, fading form overlapped with the dying spirits I had seen in the dungeon just days ago.
‘But even if I go now, will Cecilia really be there……?’
First, the promised place.
Then, maybe the dining hall.
As I tore through my tangled thoughts while running, I suddenly saw someone standing in the distance.
It was Cecilia.
“Cecili—”
“Lian!”
Upon seeing me, Cecilia called out my name in a rushed voice and hurriedly ran toward me.
For a moment, I wondered if she had noticed the Spider’s state. But her gaze seemed fixed on me, so it didn’t seem like it.
“Thank goodness……! You’re safe, Lian.”
Looking me up and down, Cecilia murmured in a voice filled with genuine relief.
I didn’t understand what she meant—until I noticed how quiet it was around us.
“……”
―……
The Spider, still in my arms, suddenly convulsed desperately and bit at my side as if to warn me.
I looked silently at Cecilia and asked:
“……What’s going on?”
“Yes.”
Cecilia gave a small nod.
Her expression was cold, hardened.
“An incident happened. It was just spoken of, but the news will spread quickly.”
“An incident?”
That dreadful sense of foreboding wrapped around me once again.
I already felt I knew what she would say, even before she spoke.
Yes, she would surely say this.
“An attack.”
An attack incident.
Without realizing it, I shut my eyes tightly.
“An attack has happened.”
Who was the target?
As I wondered, Cecilia continued in a calm voice.
“It happened inside the Academy. All the victims were struck from behind. And……”
“Wait—victims, plural?”
At that moment, in a hurried voice, I asked her again, for it was not something I could just gloss over.
But Cecilia only nodded, as if to say I had heard correctly.
“Yes, victims. No less than four people were attacked today.”
“What the……”
“All of them were struck from behind. Faculty, students, assistants—they were targeted indiscriminately. And……”
“All five bore wounds inflicted by bladed weapons.”
At her words, I quietly asked:
“Do you know who they were?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
Cecilia nodded.
“A staff member in charge of cleaning the outskirts. And though I don’t know the name, one third-year from Hilts dormitory.
“And?”
“Professor Yul Runberg.”
Cecilia paused briefly before continuing.
“One of his assistants was attacked as well.”
“If it was an assistant, then they wouldn’t be ordinary.”
Of course, there would be variation by person, but professors’ assistants were typically all competent individuals in their own fields.
All the more so if they were assistants to a leading figure like Professor Yul Runberg.
“The fourth victim?”
“It’s someone we both know well.”
Cecilia let out a small sigh as she murmured those words.
Her expression, full of regret, made me step closer to her.
“Someone we both know?”
“Yes. Someone we know well.”
By then, Cecilia had come right up in front of me, and whispered:
“Lian.
“It’s you.”
At those words, the dagger in her hand suddenly plunged toward my abdomen.
Or rather—it would have, had I not caught her wrist just in time.
“Your acting really is awful.”
As I said that, I drove my fist with all my strength into the face of the one who wore Cecilia’s appearance.