The page was dated to just over a month ago.
Today, I felt something very… strange. It was during lunch, and I was on my way to the cafeteria, as usual. Just as always, I talk to many people on the way there. I try my best to reassure them, help them with whatever they need help with.
I ended up being just a little late. My friends joked about it--just light banter. But an unfamiliar emotion hung over me. It was irritation--and an unsettling hint of anger--not at anyone, but somehow at everything.
Why did it all feel so draining, all of a sudden? Like a candle that has just begun to flicker. Why had I wanted to scream, just for a second?
I ignored it and laughed along with their jokes, of course. How could I not? There's no way I could just stop being me. No way I can let anyone know anything is wrong.
Still, even as I'm writing this hours later, these emotions are still hovering around me. Since they appeared, my every word and action feels hollow and pointless.
It's just fatigue... It's just fatigue. That's all it can be.
Right. That's it. I'll feel better tomorrow!
Today was probably just a long day for me.
[You have reached the end of this entry.]
Julien let go of a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Where the few entries he'd read hinted at nothing, this… this was a startling look into something darker.
He stared at the last few lines. The writing itself was beautiful and calm, even if the words themselves were… something else.
I never knew Ian could've been struggling with anything, Julien thought. He was never anything else.
I wish I could know if this was a one off for him, or if there was anything else like this. If only I could read the rest of the pages…
[Access to remaining entries is restricted.]
It was drip-feeding him information at an excruciatingly slow rate. There wasn't a single message about how to unlock more pages, other than alignment level.
And he didn't want to increase alignment to something that was literally called 'Villain Path.' Who knew what going further could do to him?
Worst case scenario, he could end up rivaling Inferno… or something. Nothing good would come out of it.
He sighed and put the journal back into his inventory. It reminded him of his own life--he, too, had great expectations placed upon him. He could empathize with Ian. He knew what it was like.
Simultaneously, curiosity burned in his mind. If this was just the beginning of Ian's secrets, what more could there possibly be?
If he had to live as Ian, knowing his secrets was part of it.
Well, if I'm done here, it's about time I get going before they come looking for me, or if I get in trouble with the head healer.
Julien dragged himself up as his muscles protested.
Seriously, so annoying. What's the use of being an S-tier if your injuries still don't heal fast enough…
* * * *
Hours later, he was finally back in his dorm room.
The entire expedition had gone through checks, reports, and the like--they'd kept them there for hours, despite many of the first-years understandably wanting to leave.
Julien was tired and still wearing his torn uniform. It smelled like smoke and dust. It was well into the afternoon now. The entire ordeal had lasted less than a day and a half--but it felt like it had been forever.
He wondered if the rest of the school had heard what happened yet.
Forget it. I'm just going to sleep, since they told us we could have the rest of the week off to deal with things.
Although sunlight was still pouring into the room, he didn't bother with closing the blinds. Instead, he simply stumbled towards his bed and collapsed on it, limbs still aching.
For a while, he didn't move an inch. The serene silence of the room felt unreal after all the terror and fighting. But his brain kept playing echoes of what happened--defeating three Named, almost losing control of himself, the painful glare of the mana haze, Gate Amplification… too many events to all think about right now.
Julien opened his eyes, staring at the pristine ceiling. He shifted, feeling the discomfort of his ruined uniform he hadn't bothered to change out of.
His mind drifted, and he found himself in that half-conscious state between sleep and alertness. The one where hours and minutes slipped past in the blink of an eye.
A sharp knock shattered it.
"Ian Mooring, are you in there?" A sharp, clipped voice came through the door. One of the Academy's messengers.
He sat up, slow and groggy and sore. "...Yeah," he muttered.
"Your presence is requested," the voice paused, as if for emphasis, "by Headmistress Aryle--half an hour from now."
Julien froze. It took a moment for him to catch up with the words, and when he did, his stomach twisted uncomfortably.
Of course. It was only a matter of time.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Alright, thank you."
The messenger didn't answer, only walking away. Footsteps echoed down the corridor.
"Great," he murmured to himself. "Just what I needed."
Meeting Aryle in his current tattered state would be undignified for someone like him. So with great difficulty, he made himself stand up and go prepare, taking a quick shower and changing into a fresh, definitely-not-ruined uniform.
Before he left, Julien decided to check his reflection in the mirror one last time. The Headmistress demanded perfection… she would not be happy if he was the tiniest bit untidy.
He leaned closer to the mirror. For a second, he was startled--he still wasn't used to seeing someone else's face. He and Ian looked nothing alike--he hadn't noticed it too much when he couldn't see himself, but it would hit him like a rock whenever something reflected his face.
He smiled softly. The differences went beyond physical features--where Ian had the trademark gentle, polite expression of a noble, Julien had always had the resting face of a sharper, yet more open person.
He adjusted his collar. Everything was just right, as good as it could possibly be.
Time to go.
Julien left the room, walking fast through the corridor. The building was quiet, as most students were in classes in the academic buildings.
The path to Aryle's office was long, with it being on the top floor of the staff rooms. He passed a few people every now and then, and they offered a cheerful word, but everyone could tell he was going somewhere important.
Eventually, he found himself at the imposing double doors leading to the Headmistress's office. He took a deep breath, then knocked politely.
"Come in, Ian," a deep, composed voice answered.
Well, here we go.
He entered. "You summoned me, Headmistress?"
Headmistress Aryle sat behind her polished mahogany desk, hands folded neatly above a book that looked like it hadn't been opened in decades. She smiled, but it was far from warm.
She wore the calculated expression of someone who believed they held all the pieces of the board in their grasp.
"Yes, I did. Come closer, and shut the doors behind you."
Julien obeyed, unease growing in the back of his mind.
"I've heard quite a bit about your heroics during this, ah… unfortunate event. Care to give me an account?"
"Unfortunate event"? I knew it. She's going to pretend the whole thing never happened.
"Yes, ma'am."
He gave her a detailed recount of all the things he'd done, from the Petra, to the Puppeteer, to defeating the Draconian. But he left out the part about Little Julien--she didn't really need to know.
She listened with a knowing look. She'd probably already heard everything he'd had to say from someone else--but she was the type to only believe something from the source.
When Julien finished, she stood up.
"Thank you, Ian. Your actions are truly commendable. I--and the Academy--owe you our gratitude. Thanks to the bravery of our students and instructors, this disaster has passed with minimal casualties."
Julien's eye twitched slightly. He couldn't stand the way she offhandedly referred to 30 deaths as "minimal."
To him, lives weren't just numbers on a record. They were all living, breathing people with stories and families and hopes and dreams.
Each one was a terrible loss… almost an entire fifth of the year was gone.
With the help of [Character Guidance], his words remained smooth and in-character. But if it wasn't for that stopping him from acting out, he might've argued with her.
"I was only doing my duty as a student of Asanel," he said, almost gritting his teeth.
"Good. You truly are the pride of our institution. But that said…"
What is she going to go on about now?
"You're a role model to every student. You have to be precisely the embodiment of excellence. If what happened was to get out, and cause some rumors, you will need to quell them."
There it is.
"We cannot have our beloved Academy lose face because of such an incident. That is why you shall answer no questions about it."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Oh, and one last thing. Maintain your composure at all times. Many people are watching you, and your every action reflects on us as a whole. Dismissed."
Julien nodded respectfully and left the room.
She said that exact same thing to me, when I had just begun to truly become a hero.
A sudden memory appeared in his mind--how that woman had met her end, in his past life.
Inferno had killed her himself. Ambushed her out of the blue, and he'd taken great pride in it.
"I always hated her. That bitch had it coming!" he'd declared for all to hear.
"Always scheming, conspiring to take what isn't hers. You sheep all thought she was a trustworthy person, but I knew better."
Julien didn't particularly like Aryle, but he'd never hated her.
She just takes her job seriously. That's all.
This time, he wouldn't let that happen.