Helen Sylvestra watched as her surroundings warped at the mage's gesture.
"Hmph. A predictable illusion."
She had learned that the quality of illusion magic was determined by how closely the vision mimicked reality. The closer the hallucination was to the truth, the higher the mage's caliber. The dingy shop had transformed into the Imperial Academy. She stood in the central hallway—the path to the faculty lecture halls. The floor was polished marble, and the walls were adorned with the Golden Quill, the symbol of the Academy.
Helen brushed her hand against one of the ornaments. The cold touch of the gold was vivid.
"Hoh?"
To deceive not just sight, but smell and touch as well... it was high-level work. But that was all.
"For a back-alley mage, you've got some skill."
She had heard Max was talented. If he hadn't strayed into the "wrong path" of illusion magic, she might have recommended him to her family. Uris must have used this place for training—simulating wars and anticipating battles. Her abnormal win rate was clearly rooted here. But this wasn't enough to find a weakness.
'If it were just training, she wouldn't have run away from me.'
There was something hidden. Something the mage wasn't showing yet.
"Hey, mage! This isn't enough. Show me something that can actually take down Uris! At least give me a clue!"
There was no answer.
"Hey! Max!"
What was this damn mage doing? Helen scanned the area, scowling. At the Academy, she'd been taught that because illusions aren't reality, one can dismantle them at any time simply by recognizing them.
—"That is why illusion magic is considered a low-tier art. Even a powerful illusionist lacks combat power. It is easily dispelled. Students, if you are caught, stay calm and look for the seams."
The professor had cast an illusion on the class, and half the students had broken free instantly. Helen had dispelled it in just three minutes. No matter how talented this Max was, he couldn't be better than a professor.
'There must be a crack somewhere.'
She knew an illusion couldn't actually harm her. She just needed to find the exit.
"Winds of freedom and Soil of discipline, come forth and fulfill the contract."
Helen called upon her spirits. Surely a Wind or Earth spirit would be best for scouting?
But there was no response.
"...What?"
She recited the contracted incantation again. Still, nothing. The spirits did not manifest.
"This is impossible."
Even in the professor's illusions, the spirits had answered her call. So why?
"Is his magic stronger than a professor's?"
A professor-level mage understood the fundamentals so deeply they could dabble in other schools with ease. To be better than that... and an illusion that blocked her abilities entirely was unheard of.
"Damn it, he must be working with Uris..."
She had trusted him too easily. If he were already in Uris's pocket, she had been walking into a trap.
"When I get out of here, I'm throwing that man in a dungeon for insulting a noble."
A few weeks in a cell would teach him whose side to take.
Just then—
"Huh? Isn't that Lady Sylvestra?"
A group of students approached. She didn't recognize them—dolls created by the illusion, no doubt. Based on her memories or the caster's, they took shape. She ignored the loitering punks and kept looking for a "crack." But these puppets weren't letting her go.
"Get lost, you dolls."
"What is this woman talking about?" "She called us 'illusions'?" "Pfft, did she finally lose it? Well, I would too if I were her." "Losing that 'genius' spirit resonance of hers... poor thing."
The punks whispered among themselves. They weren't worth her time. Just guardians meant to distract her from finding the exit.
"Move. I don't have time for you."
As she tried to brush past them, a rough-looking boy grabbed her wrist.
"Hey. Don't ignore us. We're talking to you."
How dare he? A mere phantom dared to touch Helen Sylvestra?
"You bastards! Do you know who I am?"
Normally, she'd have blasted them away, but without her spirits, she was powerless.
"Of course we know. The Sylvestra failure." "What?" "The loser who lost her resonance and can't even use spirit arts anymore. You're not passing the Academy. Didn't you hear? Sylvestra disowned you. They said you're a waste of money and a disgrace to the family name."
"That's... that's a lie!"
Her family would never disown her. She was the precious daughter of Duke Sylvestra. She tried to shake him off, calling out again: Fulfill the contract!
Still, nothing. Only laughter followed.
"Hahaha!" "Look at her, still trying to use spirit-tongue. How pathetic."
The mockery stung. Helen's face flushed red. She had never been ridiculed in her life. One word against her family and a person's head would roll.
"Y-you...!"
Even knowing it was an illusion, the shame was real.
"If my father hears of this—"
Slap!
"Aaagh!"
Her head snapped to the side as a stinging pain bloomed on her cheek.
"Look at you, wearing those rags and acting like a princess when your family threw you out."
Helen's cheek burned. He slapped me? She couldn't believe it. Someone dared to slap a Sylvestra? It hurt. It was physical pain—pain she wasn't supposed to feel in an illusion. Illusion magic was supposed to be physically safe! Why did it hurt?
As her mind whirled, she looked down. She was wearing the very thing she loathed: tattered, frayed rags instead of her pristine uniform.
"Ah...?"
"Do you understand your place now? You're a disowned orphan. Your father threw you away."
"No... no, it can't be..."
Trembling from the shock, she watched the punks walk away.
"Tsk, boring." "Let's go. Just drop out and disappear, bitch. We don't want you stinking up our Academy."
They left. Helen sank to her knees, clutching her cheek.
"This is an illusion."
A cruel one, crafted by the mage under Uris's orders to torment her. She vowed to make that mage pay for this insult.
"Mage... I will tear you apart for this."
She grit her teeth and stood up. Her left cheek still throbbed, but she had to find a gap in the spell. She had to confront him.
"This is just a vision created by a man who's never even been to the Academy. There must be flaws in his recreation."
She moved through the halls, desperate to find an exit. She wanted to rip off these rags, but she couldn't go naked.
Then—
"He-Helen... are you okay?"
A voice that sapped the strength from her legs reached her ears.
"Who are you?"
It was him. The "loser." The timid outcast from her department who couldn't even afford a decent uniform. And he had dared to call her by her first name. Not Lady Sylvestra, but Helen. The sensation was like insects crawling over her skin.
Irritating. So irritating!
Ever since entering this illusion, people were standing up to her. Disowned? Lost resonance? They were just puppets!
"Who do you think you are, calling me by my name?"
"He-Helen, what's wrong? We were so happy together." "What?" "D-don't you remember? We're the department's 'Best Couple.'"
"What are you talking about? A couple? With you?"
"Stop this disgusting talk!"
"I guess you really don't remember."
She turned to leave, but the loser grabbed her hand.
"Where are you going? We have a date."
"Get lost! You're annoying!"
She needed to go back to reality. Why were these things in her way?
"Are you still in denial? Drunk on the dreams of the past again? Fine. I'll make it real for you."
"...What?"
He pulled out a small crystal ball—a memory recorder. On the screen—
"Nngh... ah... that feels good..."
It was a video of Helen, her hands bound, her chest being fondled.
"Th-this... what is this...?"
"Do you remember now?"
A wave of absolute nausea and loathing washed over her. He had a fake video to insult her? She would kill him. She would kill the mage.
"How dare you! To mock a Sylvestra—"
"I guess I have to help you remember."
Suddenly, the "loser" lunged and grabbed her chest firmly.
"Aaakh! Wh-what are you—"
Without her spirit power, Helen was just a normal girl. She didn't have the strength to break free from even a timid man's grip.
"I'll help you remember, since your memory is so bad."
His hands began to knead her chest shamelessly.
"We liked this, didn't we?"
"St-stop..."
A strange sensation began to rise within her. Why? Why did it feel like this?