A cool morning wind swept across the central training grounds, which looked less like a training ground and more like the aftermath of a small war.
The sharp tang of ozone mixed with the stench of rotting flesh, lingering stubbornly in the thinning smoke.
“Good thing Chloe’s flower garden was already wrecked earlier,” Master Rachel muttered to herself as she walked forward with unhurried elegance. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to go all out without that girl complaining afterward.”
What greeted her was a sight utterly unlike herself.
Ingrid and Rein were struggling to brush fragments of the Cursed Abomination off their bodies, moving awkwardly and with visible discomfort.
By contrast, the tall elven instructor in her white-and-red robe was immaculate.
The wind swirling around her had formed a perfect barrier, shielding her completely from the hundreds of grotesque fragments that had rained down from the sky.
“Don’t worry… they’ll dissolve on their own,” Rachel said, trying to reassure Ingrid, who looked positively green as she gingerly plucked black chunks of flesh from her hair one piece at a time, pinching them between her fingers as if handling toxic waste.
The bespectacled girl shook her head frantically in response, hands still working nonstop to clean her cloak.
Rachel smiled faintly, then turned her gaze to Rein, who was calmly brushing the last remaining scrap off his shoulder.
“All right,” she said lightly. “We need to have a little talk.”
Rein’s face showed a strange mix of exhaustion and relief—and something else, harder to define. To Rachel’s eyes, it wasn’t the expression of a first-year student who had narrowly escaped death.
It was the face of a seasoned professional—someone who had survived too many situations like this to be shaken by another.
Rein let out a long breath, glanced around, then walked over and dropped onto a fallen stone pillar lying across the ruined courtyard. Ingrid, having just finished cleaning herself, hurried over and plopped down beside him. One hand still clutched her kettle of hot water—now miraculously back to its normal color—as if it were a priceless treasure.
Master Rachel stopped in front of them, then raised an eyebrow as if remembering something. She extended her right hand to the side—
Whoosh.
A current of wind swept up a black object lying nearly fifty feet away and delivered it gently into her grasp.
It was a jet-black saber.
Nightfall.
The elf instructor studied the legendary blade for a brief moment, then tossed it back to its owner. Rein barely managed to catch it in time.
“You’ve been carrying that thing on you this whole time?”
Rachel asked.
Rein gave a small, crooked smile and nodded.
“Wait, Rein,” Ingrid said, frowning in confusion. “That sword is, like, four feet long, isn’t it? Where were you even hiding—”
Before Rein could answer, he flicked his wrist once.
Click.
Nightfall shrank instantly, its length compressing down to barely a foot and a half—now no longer than Ingrid’s magic staff. Rein smoothly slid it back into the staff-holder loop sewn into the back of his cloak.
“…Ah. It can change size too?” Ingrid gaped, eyes wide as saucers.
“Yeah,” Rein replied casually. “Earlier, when we were in the Vault, I just… complained to it a little. Told it that staying in full-length sword form was kind of inconvenient for getting around the Academy.”
He reached back and lightly tapped the hilt.
“So I gave it a choice. Either shrink itself… or stay behind in the Vault. Or get handed over to Master Chloe. “It shrank immediately. Very cooperative.”
“…That really is an intelligent weapon,” Ingrid muttered, staring back and forth between Rein and the sword hidden in his cloak. “It actually understands human language.”
“That’s a legendary cursed sword, Rein,” she added weakly. “Not a pet.”
Rein stared ahead blankly.
“Oh.”
Master Rachel chuckled softly before adding, “It’s probably afraid of ending up in Chloe’s hands. Or Fran’s.”
She folded her arms, watching the two students. The violent wind around her had calmed, leaving only the hem of her white-and-red cloak fluttering gently in the natural breeze.
“M-Master Rachel… you know, um… Fran as well?” Ingrid asked hesitantly, curiosity shining in her eyes.
“Well, Chloe is my disciple,” Rachel replied, resting a slender finger against her chin as she recalled the past.
“Fran’s personality has gone berserk in front of me at least twice. Those were… memorable days.”
She let out a long sigh.
“Luckily, back then Chloe was only at the Stratosphere tier. Fran was limited in both time and output, so I could still ‘soothe’ her. But now…” Rachel shook her head. “If it were today, no one in Arcadia could stop her—except Headmaster Helena.”
Ingrid slowly set her kettle down, mouth hanging open. Rein, meanwhile, nodded faintly, eyes distant as his thoughts turned inward.
…So Master Chloe’s current power has surpassed even her own teacher’s, he concluded.
It was true that the new generation always overtook the old—but prodigies like Chloe, Darian, and Aiden, who had reached the Mesosphere tier at such a young age,
They weren’t the next wave.
They were tsunamis.
Still… Master Rachel herself is no joke, Rein thought.
She could go toe-to-toe with a Warlock, and likely fight Eboros without being at a disadvantage. That alone placed her at the absolute peak of Stratosphere.
A Master, without question.
So why stop there?
Why remain at Stratosphere?
Rachel glanced at Rein’s blue eyes, glittering with calculation, as if she could see straight through his thoughts.
“You’re probably wondering,” she said evenly, “why I never became a ‘Disciple’—or advanced to the Mesosphere tier.”
Her tone was casual, as though she were discussing the weather.
“The reason is simple. I refused to bind my soul to a god through a Sanctuary.”
“…You refused?” Ingrid echoed softly.
Rachel continued, “It’s true that higher tiers grant access to more destructive magic. But tier alone doesn’t measure everything on the battlefield.”
She turned to Ingrid, who had removed her glasses and was wiping black soot from the frame with her sleeve.
“Let me ask you something simple. A Stratosphere-tier mage at the Master rank—how many Core Mana Circles do they normally have in their heart, Ingrid?”
Ingrid startled, hastily put her glasses back on, and answered crisply, straight from theory.
“Each tier allows up to three additional Core Mana Circles. The number of Circles defines the sub-rank: Primary, Expert, and Master. So the answer is six Circles.”
Rachel smiled in approval.
“Correct. Then here’s the next question. The Boreas Lance I used earlier—how many times do you think a typical Stratosphere mage could cast it before collapsing?”
Ingrid raised a finger to her lips, calculating quickly.
“Judging by its destructive scale, the mana cost would be enormous. A Primary-level mage with four Circles probably couldn’t cast it at all. An Expert with five Circles might manage it once… and be completely drained afterward.”
She paused.
“A Master with six Circles could probably cast it twice at most. Attempting a third without replenishing mana would likely cause Mana Depletion—or, in the worst case, Magic Circuit Backlash, which could be fatal.”
“I’ll give you an A in Magical Theory, Ingrid,” Rachel said lightly, making the girl blush and scratch her head in embarrassment.
“…Because that answer is absolutely correct.”
Rachel’s smile sharpened slightly.
“At least—from a human perspective.”
Suddenly, the atmosphere around the elf instructor shifted.
Her voice dropped—lower, heavier, carrying unmistakable gravity.
“But from the perspective of a race that measures life in centuries…” Rachel continued calmly,
“most human Core Mana Circles are hollow—structurally hollow.”
“Even if they form all six Circles, it’s still quantity without density.”
This time, both Ingrid and Rein looked up at her in unison.
What she had just said directly contradicted every textbook taught at the Academy.
The elf instructor tilted her head slightly, flame-red hair cascading over her shoulder.
“Humans don’t truly understand the essence of the Core Mana Circle as deeply as they think.
It may be difficult to explain.
But for me, casting Boreas Lance earlier didn’t tax me at all.
…What?
Don’t tell me this red-haired elf could fire off a spell like that repeatedly.
Rein’s eyes widened.
This wasn’t bragging—it was a shift in paradigm.
Knowledge that could become the key to unraveling long-standing mysteries… —or even provide a path around the limitations imposed by the Dragon’s Speech Curse sealing his own Core Mana Circle.
“So… does that mean,” Rein asked carefully,
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“that your mana pool—or rather, the density of your Core—is fundamentally superior to that of human mages at the same tier?”
Rachel chuckled softly when she saw the hunger for knowledge in his eyes.
“Sharp as the rumors say. If you’re interested, I wouldn’t mind explaining it properly…”
She paused, her smile turning slightly mischievous.
“…but only after you answer a question of mine first. Deal?”
Silence settled for a moment.
Warm morning sunlight bathed the courtyard, driving away the last remnants of the brutal night. Rein closed his eyes again, stretched his legs out comfortably, and calmly weighed the value of the exchange—like any proper negotiation.
“Fair enough,” he said. “If I can answer it, I will.”
“Good.” Rachel nodded.
“Then let me restate my question. How did you know the true culprit was Belle? And how did you know her real objective was the Vault?”
Rein opened one eye, still lounging against the stone pillar, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Sharp ears… figures for an elf.”
“I assume you already received a full report on the book theft from Siris,” he continued.
“So I’ll skip over that part.”
He paused briefly. Ingrid looked like she wanted to interrupt—but decided to stay quiet.
“The first thing that bothered me was the timing of Lucien’s murder. At first, I thought the killer acted during the blackout—because every witness claimed to have heard noises then.
But once I learned that everyone else had been poisoned with Forget-Me-Not Grass…” Ingrid pushed the bridge of her glasses up her nose with a distinct air of pride. It was her discovery, after all.
Rein paused mid-sentence, catching the gesture. He gave a small, knowing nod to the bespectacled girl before continuing.
"...their testimonies became unreliable. However, Tara and Sally—who weren’t poisoned—confirmed there were only two loud noises. The first was when Lucien triggered the magical trap. The second came from the librarian’s office, which I believe was the brazier and stacks of books being knocked over.”
Rein tapped a finger rhythmically against the stone.
“That means the culprit entered the library before that. The poisoned students were disoriented, sure—but why didn’t Lucien’s group, who were actively stealing a forbidden book, notice another person entering?”
“The answer lay in the Sound-Dampening Cycle—something I initially overlooked.”
“That explains why you asked me whether the door normally made noise when it closed,” Rachel said, arms crossed, smiling faintly.
“Yes,” Rein replied.
“I forgot that during the day, that old door is completely silent because the dampening cycle is active—but the moment the power goes out, it stops functioning.”
He glanced between them.
“Which means the culprit simply opened the door and walked in before the blackout—while the dampening cycle was still active.
No one noticed. And once they saw Lucien’s group attempting to steal the forbidden book, they seized the opportunity to layer their own plan on top.”
“It was coincidence—not a grand scheme. The blackout itself, however, was premeditated—and its target was never Poison Domain.”
He let the words sink in.
“The first name that came to mind was Librarian Belle. She could open that door without raising suspicion. Aside from her, only I had access—from Master Chloe—and the third was you, Master Rachel, who had only just obtained the key.”
Ingrid’s eyes widened—then she frowned deeply.
“Wait! Are you saying Belle killed Lucien, staged the brazier accident, and set traps that nearly killed herself? Why would she do that? She was genuinely injured!”
Rein paused, then countered with a question.
“Then let’s zoom out. Ingrid—why do you think the Intruders invested so much effort into creating zombies to attack the Academy?”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re saying… all of that was just bait? A diversion?”
Rein nodded.
“Yes. Using zombies against the Healing faculty makes no tactical sense. The moment the Masters show up, those things turn to dust.”
“Their real purpose was to spread our forces thin—to draw high-level Masters away from this building. I suspect even Master Chloe was lured outside the Academy yesterday for similar reasons.”
Rachel nodded slowly.
“So the incident last night and the assassination attempt at dawn were pieces of the same puzzle.”
“Exactly,” Rein said.
“Create chaos. Pull defenders away. And if I had to guess—Belle was the one who caused the blackout.”
“On top of that, they deployed a five-man special unit of exceptional skill—targeting this building specifically. Not elsewhere. Correct?”
He deliberately avoided mentioning the oracle Belle had spoken of; the information was still unverified.
Rachel met his gaze and answered calmly.
“Yes. No other department was attacked by those operatives—only low-level zombies appeared elsewhere.”
Rein nodded.
“If the primary target was here… then what were they after? After surveying the building during the day, I concluded there were only two locations with unusually heavy security—the library, and the Vault where I’ve been sleeping.”
Now Ingrid was nodding along as well.
“At first, I suspected the forbidden tomes. But if the culprit was Belle—or someone impersonating her—and all they wanted was a book… she could have taken it openly. No one would’ve questioned it.”
“The fact that they went through such elaborate planning means the target wasn’t the library.”
His eyes gleamed.
“Eliminate all other possibilities, and only one answer remains.”
“The Vault.”
Rein leaned back, bracing himself against the stone pillar, tilted his head toward the sky, and closed his eyes—looking utterly relaxed, as though he’d just finished telling a bedtime story.
“Wait! You still haven’t answered my question!” Ingrid protested.
“Why would Belle set traps on herself!?”
But Rein merely smiled, as if he’d been waiting for that exact question.
“Oh? I thought you already knew the answer.”
Ingrid scowled, looking like she might smack him.
“I assume Belle had already scouted the basement multiple times, searching for an entrance to the Vault,” Rein continued.
“But it lives up to its name—it can’t be breached by brute force.”
He paused, recalling the unnaturally bright corridors.
“And the basement is designed to remain permanently illuminated. For someone who primarily uses dark magic, that environment is essentially poison.”
“I believe Master Chloe designed the security that way specifically to counter dark-aligned mages.”
Ingrid nodded, adding,
“I wondered about that too. Master Chloe never explained—only said the Mana Lamps must never be turned off. They’re insanely bright… like daytime.”
“And that,” Rein concluded,
“is why Belle had to shut down the building’s power first.”
“She intended to use dark magic to breach the Vault’s defenses—something only possible if the light circuits were disabled. And if she failed alone…”
His voice lowered slightly.
“…she probably planned to call in the Intruders outside to force their way in.”
He said it while turning to Ingrid with a flat, unreadable gaze. “But the unexpected variable was… they ran into your group first. That fight got loud—so loud it forced me to come out of the Vault.”
The bespectacled girl fell silent. Her eyes trembled faintly behind the lenses as the memory surfaced—the fight that cost her friends… and Master Kael.
“I think Belle was already in position—hiding, watching,” Rein went on, piecing the scene together as if he’d been there. “She couldn’t make a move on the Vault yet. She had to wait for the blackout—and for the Intruders to clear the way.”
“But when she saw her people going down one by one… she realized her first board had already collapsed beyond recovery. Blackout or not, no one was going to reach her in time to help breach the Vault.”
“Left alone, she had to pivot back to the library. Her first objective was to seed a false narrative—that the Intruders were after forbidden books—just to misdirect whatever Masters would arrive.”
“In that case…” Ingrid frowned, voice tight. “Belle killing Lucien was just bad luck?”
“More like a coincidence she exploited,” Rein replied evenly. “Lucien’s presence made Belle improvise on the spot. Instead of merely creating chaos, she used Lucien’s corpse to remove the biggest obstacle between her and the Vault.”
“So framing you was how she neutralized the ‘guard’?” Master Rachel asked, confirming the thought.
“Yes. As long as I was in the library—or hovering around the Vault—with the access code, Belle couldn’t act freely.” Rein’s blue eyes were steady—certain. “So she shifted to framing me, forcing whoever arrived—Master Rachel included—to detain me for questioning, or lock me somewhere else.”
“The goal was to force my piece off the board—away from the Vault, so she’d have time for a second attempt without anyone in her way.”
“And it worked,” Rachel said quietly. “The situation forced me to bring you back to the library.”
“Exactly.” Rein shrugged. “What she miscalculated… was my willingness to step in and solve the case myself.”
“Instead, she got stuck in the library with us. And the longer it dragged on, the worse her odds became. The moment Master Chloe returned—or the Mana Lamps came back online—everything would be over.”
“So she pulled out Plan B,” Rein continued. “Like I said, that trap in the librarian’s office was already prepared during the blackout.”
“At first I thought it was meant to kill me. But thinking it through… her real intention was to injure herself—manufacture a crisis, and earn a way out of the library.”
“But when we stormed that room… she may have secretly hoped I’d do something stupid and step into the trap first. If I died, the plan would be half complete.”
Rein glanced at Ingrid and gave her a small nod.
“Instead, Ingrid touched it first. And I happened to be close enough to save her.”
“When the plan shifted, Belle had to improvise again. She deliberately chose not to dodge the Darkness Arrow—just adjusted the fatal point slightly, and let it pierce straight through her shoulder.”
“A wound like that—she knew a Master like Rachel could treat it in time. What she really wanted was an excuse to go down to the Vault.”
“And after that, she simply forced her curse to flare—pressuring everyone into panic so they’d rush her to Master Chloe’s holy water stored downstairs.” Rachel’s lips pressed into a hard line as she recalled it. She’d fallen for it completely.
Rein laced both hands behind his head, almost casual.
“Simple summary: we opened the Vault’s door for a thief with our own hands.”
“And if we check right now,” he added, voice calm as stone, “I can guarantee the place is a mess—and that something is missing.”
“What?!” Ingrid’s eyes went wide. She sprang up, clutching the kettle, ready to bolt downstairs. “Then why are you only telling us now?!”
“Wait, Ingrid,” Rachel said evenly. “Calm down. I’ll go with you—just in case she left a final trap behind.”
Rachel turned back—and found Rein stretching as he stood, joints popping loudly.
“Hold on, Rein. This isn’t over. Where did Poison Domain go? We might need to—”
The messy-haired boy ruffled his hair and laughed under his breath.
“Oh. That book?” Rein said, like the answer bored him.
He smiled faintly, thinking of an old MIT prank—swapping physics covers with comic books.
“Check the shelves on the opposite side of the Forbidden Zone,” he said. “There should be an old brown hardcover labeled something like Basic Alchemy. That’s the cover. The contents inside are Poison Domain.”
“Lucien probably swapped the jacket, then stashed it there to retrieve later once things cooled down. He wouldn’t be dumb enough to walk out holding a forbidden tome in plain sight.”
He tilted his head, the smallest hint of mockery in his tone.
“If you’re going to hide a leaf… you hide it in a forest. Right?”
Master Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. A memory flashed—Rein asking to ‘inspect’ the library. Only a few minutes. Yet he’d seen what everyone else missed.
“…So you knew where it was from the beginning?”
“Just lucky,” Rein deflected, then turned and started for the basement entrance.
Silence fell as the conversation ended.
The three of them descended the spiral staircase without a word—only footsteps echoing off stone. Along the long path into the dark below, Master Rachel kept her detection domain active, sweeping for traps and anomalies with methodical caution.
At last, they stopped before the Vault’s heavy green-black steel door.
Ingrid stepped forward and recited the passcode with practiced ease. Gears clanked. The door slowly slid open.
Rein and Master Rachel didn’t hesitate—they stepped inside at once.
The interior was exactly as Rein had predicted.
Drawers yanked out. Contents scattered. Someone had ransacked the room.
But the search was crude—hurried—which meant the culprit had very little time.
Master Rachel scanned the space and expanded her mana-detection field in fine detail. After a moment, she nodded.
“Clear. No residual traps. Safe.”
Ingrid exhaled hard, then immediately started scooping items off the floor and dumping them onto the table in a rough pile. It wasn’t neat—but she couldn’t stand the mess.
Master Rachel turned to the black-haired boy leaning against the doorframe.
“So what will you do now… Rein?”
“Shower,” he answered instantly, without thinking, “then sleep for ten hours.”
“In that case…” Rachel gave a small nod. “I won’t disturb your rest.”
She started to leave—then Rein called out.
“Wait, Master. You forgot something.”
He held out a metal insignia—Forensic Magic Investigator—the badge that had been pinned to the front of his cloak.
“Thanks for the loan.”
Master Rachel stopped. She turned, looked at the emblem in his hand, then met those blue eyes.
A thin smile curved her lips—soft, genuine, and finally accepting him without reservation.
“Keep it,” she said gently. “It was never mine in the first place.”
“It’s yours now… Investigator Rein.”
And with that, she turned and walked out of the Vault—leaving the boy standing alone, the insignia resting in his palm.
These entries expand the lore and mechanics introduced in this chapter.
Completely optional—read only if you enjoy diving deeper into the system.
Concept
Core Mana Circle (Update)
A metaphysical structure located in a mage’s heart, responsible for mana storage and amplification. Each tier advancement (Primary, Expert, Master) adds up to a total of six Circles at the Stratosphere tier. However, Rachel reveals that while human mages can form six Circles, they are typically hollow in density, implying a fundamental difference in power between races like elves and humans.
Hollow Core
A concept introduced by Rachel to explain the lack of density in human mana cores. She contrasts this with elven mages who have more compact, dense mana structures, allowing greater efficiency and power from the same tier—challenging standard human magical theory.
Sanctuary Binding
A ritual that binds a mage’s soul to a deity, enabling them to ascend from Stratosphere to Mesosphere tier. Rachel reveals that she refused this process, believing raw tier doesn’t define true battlefield effectiveness. This explains why she remains at the pinnacle of Stratosphere-tier despite having the capacity to ascend.
Magic Weapon
Nightfall (Update)
Rein’s intelligent cursed sword that can change its size on command. Initially four feet long, it shrinks to a foot and a half when stored. The sword understands spoken language and can be reasoned with, a rare trait even among legendary magical weapons.
Location
The Vault (Update)
A highly secure chamber within the Healing Faculty, accessible only via passcode and immune to brute-force breach. It's warded with constant bright light as a countermeasure against dark magic. Belle’s plan involved shutting down the Academy’s power in order to use curse magic to infiltrate this location.
— Re:Naissance