Helen was certain. After seeing Uris flee like a criminal, her conviction solidified.
There was something in that theater. Something capable of breaking the "Iron-Blooded Knight."
Throughout her classes at the Academy today, Helen couldn't focus. How could she? The clue to dismantling the Empire's symbol of victory was right in front of her. If a member of the Sylvestra family brought down Uris, their prestige would soar to unprecedented heights.
She had tried investigating the shop through family informants, but the results were meager. —"It's just a mysterious shop run by an illusion mage. No one but Uris has been seen entering, so information is scarce." —"He was a student sent to the Magic School by Droken. Called a young genius, but he diverted his path toward illusion magic."
"Should we go inside ourselves?" the informants had asked. "No," Helen had replied. If Sylvestra agents moved in, it would tip off either Uris or the mage. She pulled them back.
The shop had been open for nearly three weeks, yet Uris was the only customer? 'There is definitely something going on.'
She had planned to wait, but the urge was too strong. If the target was elusive, there was only one way left: direct breakthrough. She would enter and see for herself what Uris was doing.
As soon as class ended, Helen stood up abruptly. "Ex-excuse me, Lady Sylvestra."
A scruffy-looking male student approached her. He wore the Academy uniform, but unlike Helen's, it was frayed and worn. Even with the same uniform, there were clear tiers. He was the department loner—a man from a lowly family, timid, socially awkward, and seemingly allergic to grooming.
He was the classmate Helen loathed the most. Not just because of his face, but because of the trifecta: lowly birth, tattered clothes, and a complete lack of self-care. To Helen, who pursued perfection, his very existence was an eyesore. How could someone walk around looking like that? Filthy.
She pressed a handkerchief to her nose and glared. "What is it?" "A-ah, well... you see..." "Speak quickly. Stop stuttering." "F-for the elective assignment today... c-could we do it together?"
Sigh. How irritating. That such a pathetic man dared to speak to her as if they were equals just because they shared a classroom. "Get lost. Stop hovering." "A-ah, I'm s-sorry..."
The "loser" of the department shrank back, bowing his head. Even that sight disgusted her. "Truly unlucky. And on such an important day, too."
She covered her mouth with her handkerchief as if the very air he breathed was contaminated and swept out of the lecture hall. Behind her, she heard other students snickering—laughing at the fool who dared to look up at the genius of Sylvestra.
Their laughter didn't matter. She hurried toward the outskirts, glancing around to ensure Uris wasn't nearby. 'The clue is in here.'
To catch a tiger, one must enter the tiger's den. Helen took a deep breath and knocked. Knock, knock.
When the mage appeared, she went straight to the point. "What has Uris been doing here?" "Pardon?"
The mage, Max, looked troubled. He broke into a cold sweat and avoided her gaze. He was clearly hiding something. I knew it. You didn't expect me to come digging into Uris's business, did you? Are you afraid of her?
Helen understood. The name "Iron-Blooded Knight" carried immense weight. But... 'Sylvestra is greater.'
The Balletaoon family were mere knights; the Sylvestras were Marquises. Her family had to win. Always. "I already know everything," Helen said, crossing her arms. "I know she came here the day of the mock battle. I know she's a regular. So, I'll be blunt: show me what she did."
She was demanding evidence. "If you show me, I'll compensate you handsomely. A Sylvestra never breaks a promise." "...That is difficult," Max replied.
Tsk. Another nuisance. "If you're worried about Uris's retaliation, don't be." "It's not that. It's a matter of principle. Our shop never leaks customer information." "Hmph. So you're taking her side?" "No. I am just a mage running a theater. I take no sides. Who would dare defy the Sylvestra family?" "At least you're sensible."
Helen smirked. "Then why the refusal? Do you want more money? I'll give you whatever you want. Mages are always desperate for funds, aren't they? Ingredients are expensive."
The mage remained silent. Most mages couldn't refuse gold. The tools and materials for experiments were ruinously pricey. Most graduates became court mages or merchant guards just to fund their research. This man was likely no different. How could a mediocre mage like him refuse her?
"I apologize."
Helen grit her teeth. How annoying. She loathed people like this—people who thought they were something special when they weren't. No noble lineage, no legendary spells, no powerful backing... yet he stood there with a stiff neck.
"If you don't speak, I will have this shop leveled in the name of the Sylvestra family. I'll report that you're using 'illusion magic' to deceive and exploit people." "Are you serious?" "I don't make empty threats. You know the radical Goddess cultists consider illusion magic a 'vile art,' right? To them, this place is a delicious target." "..." "Think I can't do it? I heard you sell 'desires.' You even promoted that to the nobility. Selling desires via illusions... isn't that exactly what a demon would do?"
Sensing victory, she smiled and beckoned him. "I don't want to bury you. My goal is clear: Uris. Tell me what she saw, and I'll overlook whatever filth you're selling here."
The mage sighed. Ah, how pleasant, Helen thought. Watching a man realize his place and crumble was always a delight.
"If that's how it's going to be, I have no choice. I cannot show you the exact footage Uris watched, but I can allow you to experience the 'desire' she enjoyed." "You'll show me her desire? I like that." "Very well. I will show you via illusion magic." "You want me to enter your illusion?" "It's the only way to convey it. I am an illusion mage, after all."
Helen clicked her tongue. It was a hassle, but if it was the only way to find Uris's weakness, she had to comply. "Fine. Show me her 'desire.'"
Max seated her in the chair and asked one final question. "Is there any particular... theme or type of person you find most repulsive?" "What?"
She was an incredibly annoying woman. Threatening me to get to Uris wasn't a good look. Helen de Sylvestra. The golden child. The future of her house. Growing up on nothing but praise and love must have rotted her social filters.
'No manners at all.' Threatening to have me burned by cultists as an "apostate"? That's a declaration of war against an entire academic school. Of course, she was just a young lady. Even with her family's shadow, the Church wouldn't move just on her word. Most within the clergy found the "radicals" to be a headache.
'Does she think I opened a shop without preparing for that?'
Still, she needed a lesson. Her life of constant victory and adoration had made her insufferable. She needed to experience "defeat" for once. And since she practically begged for it—wanting to see the "defeat" Uris experienced—I was happy to oblige.
I didn't like mixing personal feelings with my magic. 'But if I don't do this, she won't leave me alone.'
I decided to give her exactly what she asked for, but with a twist. I would engrave the experience of losing to the thing she hates most deep into her bones.
"Starting now."
The magic circle flared to life around Helen de Sylvestra.