"Little mouse?"
Anna froze for a moment, then glanced at the blood elf maid sitting at the front of the carriage, reins in hand. The maid gave a small nod, tapped lightly on the side of the wagon, and in the next instant, her figure blurred into a crimson streak of light, vanishing into the distance.
Moments later, she returned, carrying by the collar… a blonde girl.
The girl was wrapped in a filthy linen cloak, her face smudged with dirt. If not for the two bright golden twin-tails hanging by her shoulders, even Hel wouldn't have recognized that beneath that grime was actually a beautiful young girl.
"I–I, um, this is all a misunderstanding!" The moment the blonde touched the ground, she immediately dropped to her knees.
"I'm just a harmless passerby! I didn't see anything! Please, kind sirs, spare me!"
Her tone was so desperate—and practiced—that it made one's heart ache. Hel couldn't help but wonder: what kind of life must this child have lived, to learn to kneel the moment she saw danger?
But when Hel glanced at the golden thread of information floating above her head, his expression grew strange.
A fifth-rank witch? Really? And you're groveling like that?
Of course, if the girl could hear his thoughts, she'd probably yell: "Are you kidding me?! I'm a powerless fifth-rank weakling surrounded by twenty fifth-rank transcendents! If I don't kneel, do I just stand here and die faster?"
"Alright then," Hel said calmly, "why were you following us?"
"Ah, y-yes, um, my name is Tina! I'm… actually a new student of Savant City!"
"A student of Savant City?" Hel raised an eyebrow.
Her strength did reach fifth rank, true—but she didn't know a single combat spell. Her power was purely innate—something tied to a strange Authority. When Hel glanced closer, the words appeared again: 'Authority: Merchant's Witch.'
He blinked. "So… her power is… what, running a shop?"
Alright, that explained it. No wonder she'd been accepted as a student of Savant City.
Witt, however—being an old veteran of that city—immediately caught a flaw in her story. "Oh? A student of Savant City, are you? Then which academy are you in? My young master here is also a new student there—perhaps you're classmates."
"A-academy?" Tina stammered, eyes darting in panic.
The truth was, she'd only heard from a shady broker in her hometown that if she paid twenty gold coins, she could buy a student permit to Savant City. No one had ever mentioned different academies!
"Well then," Witt said kindly, "do you have your admission letter? I used to teach at Skoll Academy, so I might recognize it."
Tina hesitated, glancing around at the intimidating puppet knights glaring down at her. After a long breath, she carefully reached inside her cloak and pulled out a neatly folded parchment, holding it out to Hel with trembling hands.
Hel took it, glanced through it briefly, then passed it to Witt. After skimming it, Witt nodded and returned it.
"She's indeed a new student of Savant City, young master. A special recruit—from the Potio Academy."
"Potio Academy?"
"Yes. Or, as most call it, the Alchemy and Potion Academy. They specialize in potion brewing—just as Skoll Academy is known as the Bloodline Academy." He paused, giving the girl a sympathetic look.
"She's what they call a special recruit. In other words… unlucky."
"Unlucky? How so?" Hel asked.
"Well," Witt began, sighing, "the Potion Academy is constantly researching new magical elixirs. And someone has to test them. Since those potions are made for transcendents, the test subjects must also have transcendent potential. But the professors are too cowardly to test them on themselves, and they can't touch the noble heirs—so…"
"They recruit poor but gifted commoners as 'special students,'" Hel finished for him.
"Exactly," Witt said. "They make a tidy profit and get all the test subjects they want. The problem is…"—he hesitated, glancing at Tina—"…out of every ten special recruits, only three survive to graduation. And two of those three usually suffer permanent damage."
"So basically," Hel muttered dryly, "it's institutionally sanctioned bullying."
At those words, Tina went completely pale and collapsed to the floor. She sat there trembling, unable to move—her mind torn between the hopeful faces of her impoverished village companions, who had pooled their savings to send her off to change all their fates—and the nightmare description of the academy waiting for her.
As a brand-new witch with no training, Tina had completely misjudged her place in the world. When she'd first revealed her power, she was almost killed by a passing Inquisitor Knight. Ever since, she'd believed that fifth-rank power was nothing special. So when a calm, confident mage like Witt spoke, she didn't dare question him.
Though, truth be told, even Witt hadn't yet realized how wrong he was about her true strength.
Hel tilted his head. "So if the Potion Academy is that bad, then the Bloodline Academy—where you used to teach—must be worse, right? Bloodline research always needs… human experimentation. I'm starting to worry about bullying on campus."
Witt twitched. He stared at the puppet knights casually piling corpses into neat rows nearby and forced a smile. My young master, he thought helplessly, if anyone tries to bully you, it's their entire bloodline that should be worried.
Who else brings twenty fifth-rank knights to school? Even princes don't get that kind of escort. Oh wait—right, he's my young master. Never mind, that makes sense.
Clearing his throat, Witt explained, "The Bloodline Academy does perform human experiments, yes—but they don't take special recruits. Partly because bloodline fusion requires certain levels of strength…and partly because every body reacts differently to every bloodline. There's no guarantee an experiment that works for one will work for another."
"So what do they do then?" Hel asked.
Witt gave a weary smile. "We… experiment on ourselves."