Chapter Sixty-Two: The Queen's Trust

Class was over, and the students were all in high spirits. Though the first lesson was nominally a theory class, it had to a great extent satisfied their yearning for the mysterious world, and, most importantly, Professor Jonster’s lecture had truly benefited everyone immensely.

These students hadn’t all arrived at the Black Castle at the same time; some had come a couple of days earlier, others later. Many had already tried to borrow books and conduct their own research, but now the library’s lending rules had become much stricter.

Outside the library stood a peculiar hourglass, marked with gradations at the bottom. The sand remained suspended above, refusing to fall—unless a student placed their hand upon it, at which point the sand would begin to descend. The faster it fell, the greater the student’s strength of mind and will; the amount of sand and its level indicated which books they could borrow.

This effectively prevented students from being corrupted by magical tomes in their tender stage, while greatly restricting the range of books available—most could only borrow ordinary written records.

Even so, many found the books they managed to borrow to be headache-inducing, for their contents were a world apart from their previous knowledge and common sense, and reading them drained their energy.

Yet after listening to Professor Jonster that morning, they had been utterly captivated. The acquisition of knowledge felt effortless, and though there was still much they did not understand, the fundamental concepts of the arcane had naturally begun to take root, giving them direction.

Even though it was only the first day, some lively students had already begun making friends. Some simply wanted companionship in this unfamiliar environment; others were more selective in choosing their companions.

Everyone headed to the dining hall for lunch, and because their paces differed, the group stretched out in a long line. Some remained in the classroom, scrutinizing their notes against the black writing covering the white walls, afraid of missing anything.

Hendel, carrying his notebook, walked at the front. He was already familiar with the Black Castle, moving without the curiosity or caution that others displayed.

“Hey, Linton!” someone called from behind. Hendel turned to see three young men and two young women walking together. The age range among the students varied, but these five seemed about his own age.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing in particular. Since we’re all heading to lunch, why not go together? It’s livelier with more people, and we can discuss what the professor taught this morning.”

Hendel nodded; he too hoped for more interaction, so he gladly agreed.

“Alright, we can study the confusing parts together. Let’s go eat. By the way, just call me Hendel.”

The young man who had spoken was delighted.

“Haha, I said he seemed easy to talk to! I’m Gena, he’s Upton, he’s Ewan, and she—”

“Call me Marlinda!” “I’m Louise!” The two girls eagerly reported their names before Gena could finish, one with long hair and one with short, both lively.

The group headed to the dining hall, their conversation centered on the recent class.

“By the way, isn’t Professor Jonster rather handsome?”

“Yes, and so knowledgeable!” The two girls abruptly steered the discussion toward Mulan himself, prompting Gena to laugh.

“Hahaha, don’t swoon over him! Professor Jonster is handsome and learned, but possesses power far beyond ours. Though we are his students, in his eyes we are like infants. And do you really think he’s as young as he appears?”

“Ah? Isn’t that obvious to anyone?” one protested.

Ewan, who had spoken little and quietly observed the various environments of the Black Castle, now interjected.

“Gena is right. Professor Jonster’s age may not be what it seems. As he said in class, this is not the world we know—not by a long shot. Many things cannot be judged by appearances. Do you think the lifespan of extraordinary beings is the same as ordinary people?”

Only Hendel truly knew Mulan’s age, and because of it, his reverence for Mulan was even deeper, for such a Professor Jonster was all the more formidable.

“By the way, what do you think was in that bottle?” someone asked.

“Ugh, don’t remind me! Just thinking about it gives me chills. My senses are quite keen—even through that obviously unusual bottle, I could feel an exaggerated malice. So cold!”

“I bet it’s some evil monster!”

“No kidding,” Upton chimed in, gossiping. “It said it had fought the professor—who do you think won?”

Gena shrugged with a smile. “The outcome is obvious. The professor just gave us a lesson this morning, and that creature is now sealed in a bottle.”

“True, hahaha...”

They soon reached the dining hall, a building of simple design. The students quickly experienced another facet of the Black Castle’s malice: apart from the tasteless basic meal, every other dish cost at least three times what it did in Dighall, and Dighall’s prices were already among the highest in Dirga.

Furthermore, except for the basic meal, wait times for other dishes were unpredictable.

Many students ordered in the dining hall, some eating only the basic meal while poring over their notes, others passionately discussing the morning’s lesson, Professor Jonster, the Black Castle, and eagerly anticipating future classes.

Some hurriedly borrowed notes from new friends to compare, since the white walls of the lecture hall were limited in space and served not as proper blackboards; the marks left by charcoal pencils were hard to erase. Once Mulan had filled them, much of what followed was delivered orally, and some feared they had missed important details.

...

Compared to the students’ excitement, Mulan was now alone in the faculty office. He too had to eat, though he would not partake of the dining hall’s fare—at least not today. Perhaps, to connect with the students, he might visit occasionally in the future.

He stretched his hands, joints crackling, and looked at the table, removing his hat to reveal the bottle beneath.

“Mulan Jonster, I know you seek power as well. Perhaps we could join forces...”

“Interesting. How would we do that?”

The demon in the bottle stood, its shadowy form swelling, though no matter how it expanded, it could not escape the confines of the glass. To Mulan, it seemed almost comically absurd.

“You could free me, let me inhabit your body. Your flesh and soul, combined with my power, together we could evolve into a perfect, formidable being—terrifying the world, trampling all beneath our feet!”

Mulan smiled, leaning close to the bottle, his gaze cold upon the demon within.

“In truth, I have some experience with resonance and evolution. Beyond the conventional sequence paths, I pursue my own research. I don’t need your well-intentioned help. Still, I am very interested in you—don’t mind if I tear you apart for a thorough study...”

The demon now was only a patch of shadow, lacking face or expression, but Mulan could sense it staring back.

Faced with Mulan’s threat, the demon felt no fear; instead, it seemed excited. Now liberated from its sludge form, it was more pure, able to clearly perceive Mulan’s malice. Yet the more malice, the more it grew ecstatically perverse.

“That’s it, Mulan Jonster—this malice, hahahaha! If we unite, we will be unstoppable. I become you, or you become me...”

“Hmph!” Mulan snorted, covering the bottle once more with his hat. He resolved to find a way to procure this bottle from the old sorcerer, together with the demon inside. If necessary, he would trade for it; though he seemed to lack anything of value, he was confident he could devise a solution.

...

That afternoon, in an office within Dighall Palace, Walton was personally presenting a list to Nishelriel. She read it carefully, pausing when she recognized a familiar name. She looked up at Walton, who stood respectfully a few steps away.

“Sir Jonster is also a professor?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Mulan is the most gifted young man I have ever met. This refers not only to his physical and spiritual gifts, but to his formidable capacity for learning, synthesis, and analysis. I am completely confident in him teaching theoretical knowledge; in truth, even if I taught personally, I doubt I could achieve his results.”

Nishelriel nodded slightly.

“Sir Jonster truly is the genius to emerge from the Thirteen Knights family in a century! By the way, is everything progressing smoothly with the Black Castle’s reforms?”

“Thanks to you, Your Majesty, everything is proceeding very well!”

“Good. You may go.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Walton smiled, doffed his hat, and bowed before leaving the Queen’s office.

Once Walton had departed, the Queen turned to her attendant with a radiant smile.

“Perhaps, besides Walton, Sir Jonster is even more worthy of trust and responsibility!”

“Your wisdom is unparalleled, Majesty. Compared to those strange and terrifying sorcerers and extraordinary beings, Sir Jonster is young, courageous, and responsible, and certainly more loyal. This is not only evident from recent character observation, but also by historical tradition!”

Nishelriel set aside the list and the plan, and after pondering a moment, asked another question.

“What is Sir Jonster most concerned about, or most desires?”

“I have already begun to investigate, Your Majesty!”