The Count was reviewing documents when the knock came, the steady scratching of his quill pausing mid-line.
"Come in."
Lieutenant Kael entered, his boots muted against the carpet. A breeze followed him in, carrying the earthy scent of soil and sweet flowers from outside. He stopped a few steps from the desk and extended a folded letter.
"From Lord Alaric, my Lord. A courier arrived shortly after noon."
The Count accepted it and broke the seal without comment. The wax cracked softly. His eyes moved across the page once, then slowed near the middle and the end before he folded it again with deliberate care.
Kael stood silently, observing the Count's expression, his usual carefree attitude nowhere to be found.
"The bandits are gone," the Count said at last.
"Gone?" Kael echoed.
The Count nodded slightly. "Alaric tried to bait them using a rich merchant shipment… no one showed up," he said, bewilderment seeping into his tone.
He placed the letter on the desk, aligning it neatly with the others. One corner brushed against a paperweight carved in the shape of a ship's prow, its edge worn smooth by years of use.
"That's all?" Kael asked.
"For now," the Count replied. "Alaric hasn't drawn conclusions. Neither should we."
Outside the window, a banner stirred once in the wind, then fell still.
Kael inclined his head. "Shall I inform the others?"
The Count considered this for a moment, fingers resting lightly atop the folded letter. Then he shook his head.
"No. There's nothing actionable yet."
He reached for another document, dipping the quill back into ink.
"Alaric asked if they should continue investigating. What do you think?" the Count asked, uncertainty edging his voice.
Lieutenant Kael furrowed his brows as he fell into deep thought. The wind stirred slightly, shuffling the curtains. "My Lord, I think the Young Lord should withdraw…" He hesitated, then raised his head and continued, "Something feels off… but I can't put my finger on it."
"Serin thought the same." The Count narrowed his eyes sharply, a cold glint flashing deep within them.
"Send the scout back immediately. Alaric must be even more careful. Tell them to dig a bit deeper. If there's more, Alaric will write again," the Count said in a low voice, hesitation still evident beneath his resolve.
Kael acknowledged the order and departed, the door closing softly behind him.
The Count continued working, the scratch of the quill resuming its steady rhythm. Even as a guest in the Duke's mansion, there was no rest for him; it was also an opportunity to settle pending business engagements with the Duke.
Only later, when the ink had dried and the light in the room had shifted, did his gaze drift briefly to the letter resting among the others—before he turned the page and moved on.
---
Serin caressed the cover of the old book. It had a very hard texture, which was unusual for a book, let alone one so old. The cover itself was ornate and felt remarkably premium; Serin could immediately tell that it must have been expensive.
Flipping through the first few pages, Serin froze, then widened his eyes and recoiled visibly, prompting a playful chuckle from Leia, who sat across from him, watching knowingly.
On the brownish page was a portrait of a refined young gentleman seated on a wooden chair, holding a rose, a truly handsome yet subtle smile gracing his face.
What was most striking, however, were his eyes. Even though it was only a portrait, Serin briefly felt as if the man were looking directly into his soul, crossing the boundaries of time and space.
Leia leaned forward, smiling with her eyes. "Magical, isn't it?"
"Yes…" Serin woke from his stupor and mumbled absentmindedly.
"Orren Valecant… just who was he?"
Leia adjusted her posture gracefully as she picked up her cup of tea. Before taking a sip, she said, "Turn the page."
Serin did. As he began reading, Leia's soft voice reached his ears. "Orren Valecant was the fifth prince of the Valecant Kingdom…"
The introduction of the writer before the actual contents of the book was brief.
Prince Orren was of royal blood, but he did not wish to rule. He was an artist, a philosopher… and a playboy. He was also a famous collector of antiques during the Third Split and a devoted student of history.
The Prince was especially interested in ancient history leading up to the Era of the Third Split.
"Prince Orren was eccentric," Leia said, her tone curious. "He went to any lengths to dig up history." She paused, then lowered her voice slightly and continued ominously, "Legends say that before his death, he became completely obsessed. Like a fanatic."
"Like one of those cockroach cultists," she added, shrugging mockingly.
Serin skimmed through the author's opening thoughts, then looked at Leia and asked, "Why this book, out of all the hundreds—thousands?"
"I overheard you before…" She smiled apologetically, then continued, "This book has a little of everything you're looking for. None of it is concrete, or reliable, but it's all here."
"I see." Serin's gaze fell back to the book, his eyes blazing with curiosity.
Leia extended her hand, asking for the book. When Serin handed it to her, she asked, "Well? What do you want to know? I can make it easier for you."
Serin thought for a moment.
There was so much to know. From the history lessons at Hainar Keep, he had been utterly shocked by the magical past of Eidryth. As someone from Earth, he wanted to understand it all, because everything felt unbelievable.
The alleged Civil Wars of the Gods. The Extinction Event that destroyed civilizations again and again. The annihilation of non-human races such as dragons and elves…
Serin sighed inwardly. There would be a lifetime to learn about other things. First and foremost, he needed to know why he had suddenly transmigrated into Serin's body.
So far, his only clue lay in the Divine Realm.
Thus, he said confidently, "The Divine Realm."
Leia frowned. She opened the book and began flipping through the pages vigorously, trying to recall where she might have read about it. As she searched, she spoke, "Oddly enough, there isn't much about the Divine Realm in here. But I'm sure I read a small passage somewhere…"
Serin nodded, waiting patiently, his breath held. As warm wind and sunlight drifted in through the window, Leia abruptly stopped at a page.
"Here it is!" Leia exclaimed in satisfaction as she passed the book back to Serin, its pages open to a specific segment.
Serin's face brightened as he held the book, his eyes fixed on the aged brown pages, the words seeming to swirl and come alive as he read the footnote.
Footnote, appended to Volume II, Chapter XII: Concerning the Divine Realm
"Of the Divine Realm, much has been written and little has been agreed upon. All traditions, however distant in origin, concur on one point alone—that it stands apart from the mortal world, timeless and inviolate.
What remains unclear is not its nature, but its beginning.
The earliest records speak of the Divine Realm as though it has always been, yet these same records describe moments of revelation, establishment, and separation—terms that imply not eternity, but arrival, going as far back as the First Split. Whether this reflects a failing of mortal language, or an incompleteness in our understanding, I cannot say.
Some scholars argue that the Divine Realm predates the world and thus gave rise to it. Others contend that it emerged alongside creation, shaped in response to it. Both positions are defended with conviction, and neither can be proven.
I record this observation only in passing: if the Divine Realm is truly eternal, then its origin is irrelevant; yet the persistence of debate surrounding its beginning suggests that this question has never been fully answered.
Until clearer evidence is found, it is wiser to approach this matter with humility rather than certainty, and to accept that even the Divine may possess depths beyond mortal knowing."
— Orren Valecant, Chronicles of the Known and Unknown World
Serin exhaled sharply and leaned back in his chair, speechless and unsettled.
"Interesting, isn't it?" Leia chuckled softly. She leaned closer, lowered her voice, and continued, "History is a translucent veil—especially when it comes to matters of the divine. Or so my teacher says."
"Your teacher?" Serin asked casually, surprised to hear such thoughts spoken aloud—especially when he had thought the same.
In the Solmarch Empire, where the Divine Order held a strong ideological grip, it was indeed rare to hear such sentiments voiced without fear.
Leia did not seem surprised by his reaction. She smiled proudly and replied, "Mage Vincent is my teacher."
Serin's eyes widened, then brightened as he asked in joyful surprise, "My Lady… you are a mage?"
Leia did not answer. Instead, she pouted slightly and said, "Don't call me that. You can call me Leia."
"Uh… Lady Leia…" Serin said stiffly.
Leia shrugged helplessly, letting out a dry laugh. "I'm not a mage… yet," she added with an elegant smile. "I'm just an Acolyte."
Before Serin could process this, he saw Leia's soft, red lips move quietly, though no words left her mouth. Suddenly, a peculiar tightness gripped him for a brief second before vanishing.
As Leia's lips stopped moving, she raised her hand gracefully. Serin saw her eyes glow ever so slightly for an instant, and—to his utter shock—it was as if the space itself had been disturbed.
The air between them rippled.
It was subtle, like heat rising from sun-baked stone, light bending in a shallow wave that shimmered and twisted. The lines of the shelves behind Leia wavered, straight edges briefly losing their certainty, as though the world itself had drawn a quiet breath and forgotten how to hold it.
Serin froze, his eyes brimming with genuine awe and curiosity.
Leia's raised hand remained steady, her fingers relaxed rather than clenched. The glow in her eyes faded almost instantly, leaving no trace behind. The air settled, the ripple smoothing out as if it had never existed at all.
Then Leia lowered her hand.
"That's it," she said simply, her tone light, almost apologetic. "Just a basic manifestation spell. It doesn't do anything, really. It's meant to prove that one can shape Chaos without relying on tools or prepared arrays."
Serin swallowed. At the same time, a question surfaced subconsciously.
"Chaos?" he wondered, before shaking his head and setting the thought aside.
Instead, he focused on what he had witnessed. Like the healing ritual Priest Phelipe had performed, this too felt mystical and otherworldly—for an Earthling, at least.
Yet at the same time, the two experiences gave him completely different impressions. One was divine and distant. The other was intimate and precise.
Serin stared at the space where the ripple had been, half-expecting it to stir again. He was visibly nervous.
He cautiously reached out toward where the distortion had been, then stopped himself. Looking at Leia with keen interest, he asked, "And that… makes you an Acolyte?"
Leia smiled, a little sheepishly this time. "It makes me someone who's allowed to say she's learning."
Serin leaned back slowly, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table. He had even forgotten his original objective. Feeling parched all of a sudden, he took a sip of tea, only then finally calming down.
"Shall we continue? Or is it enough for now?" Leia asked.
Serin sighed, then smiled in resignation and nodded. "There's more… if you don't mind."
Leia smiled sincerely and took the book from the table.
The two continued discussing the contents of the book for as long as time allowed. Serin listened quietly and intently, his attitude toward Princess Leia clearly shifting—something that made her a little disappointed.
But as time passed, Serin returned to his usual self—focused and disciplined, like the grandmaster he was. Time slipped by unnoticed. By the end, Serin had more questions than before, yet he also possessed far greater clarity.
Most importantly, he had witnessed magic in action for the very first time. Deep down, the thought of one day wielding magic himself filled him with excitement—though it was a pity that he could not yet do so.