Excellia Academy: Library1 week ago
Cwal POV
"You're doing it again," I said.
Matt did not look up. His pen kept moving across the pages and pages of layered paper.
"Even if I wanted to explain it properly, the world itself would shut me down. Same for you. So don't bother asking."
I watched him for a moment, then leaned back slightly.
"…Then why the swimwear?"
"You'll need it."
"That explains nothing."
"It explains everything."
"Tch. You're more irritating than corrupt politicians."
He snorted.
"Yeah? Last I checked, I'm not siphoning public funds."
I stared at him, unimpressed.
"Not siphoning, huh..."
A week ago, I was ordered by this crackhead to steal something in bulk.
I expected high-tier weapons and even classified documents. I had even prepared a will for my mother, just in case I didn't make it back.
What he told me instead was Towels.
Hundreds of them in a relatively poor clothing boutique
And now this.
"You're insane," I said.
"I think you meant special."
We settled for a bit, broken only by the scratching of his pen.
I stared at the distant dome through the window.
"…Is it really going to happen?"
Matt finally stopped. He stood, walking over to the window.
From here, the ballroom dome stood out in the distance. The same one I kept staring at.
"Excellia, out of all the places, during the Astraea Remembrance celebration. An Aberrant noble attacking this academy…"
Matt rested a hand against the frame, looking out.
"Yes....."
He took a big whiff at the pleasant breeze.
"Not just an Aberrant noble."
He glanced back at me.
"An Overlord."
"…Then we should inform the headmaster. Or tip the king. King Apparecio would not ignore something like this."
Matt actually laughed this time.
"Don't bother."
"It is worth a try."
"You think you can control that horny witch of a headmaster?" he said, turning slightly.
"Or even get a proper audience with the king in time?"
"That is still preferable to doing nothing."
"Alright, let's say you do get in," he said, straightening up. "What are you gonna tell him?"
He cleared his throat, then started mimicking a formal tone.
"'Your Majesty, King Apparecio, I humbly request half your royal guard to stop a rampaging Aberrant Overlord.'"
He paused, then added, voice dropping into something dry.
"Also, I have no proof. I got this from my crackhead future-seeing friend. Trust me, he's been right so far. Source is basically trust me, bro. FR! FR! no cap."
He looked back at me.
"Yeah. See how that goes."
"…Are you testing the limits of my patience?" I asked.
Matt didn't even hesitate.
"No. I'm testing the limits of my acting skills."
A short breath left me.
"…Hah."
I watched him scornfully.
"So what you're saying is this. Everything I try to do outside of your orders is meaningless. I am supposed to ignore every irregularity, no matter how absurd, and trust you without question. Like I always do."
Matt pulled the window covers shut, cutting off the view of the ballroom dome.
"This is why I like talking to you, you catch on fast."
He turned back, expression shifting.
"Now let's talk business."
I lead a bit closer.
"Saving Azalea aside, I already set up contingency plans. Most of them revolve around you."
That was not reassuring.
"If things go bad, you move without me."
"…And how exactly am I supposed to know what to do when you refuse to explain anything?"
"Don't worry," he said, waving the paper he had been writing on. "I already did."
Before I could respond, he shoved the papers into his storage ring.
The same ring—
—that now rolled across the floor.
Matt collapsed.
I've seen him get beaten up by much worse, and he still would be fine and kicking. Bruises alone won't stop him. This is most likely the result of the blightcap madness he warned about.
I moved immediately, catching the ring before it went too far.
When I opened it, I got bewildered.
Survival kits. Extra clothes. School supplies.
And an excessive amount of Thrum recovery potions.
"…what is he gonna do with these," I muttered.
I kept searching.
Eventually, I found the papers.
Good. It's here.
But now is not the time to read them.
I closed the storage and pulled out ropes instead.
"Emma. Kenth."
They reacted instantly, moving toward the ropes. Their cores activated, reinforcing them the same way Nagi handled her strings.
"Maku," I called.
"Yes?" he replied.
"Use your body doubles. Tie him down. Tasora as well. We cannot risk further spread."
"I refuse."
I looked at him.
"…Explain."
He hesitated, then spoke anyway.
"When I release my body doubles, everything they experience returns to me. Thrum included. Any abnormality. Positive or negative."
"It's a fungal disease. The risk should be minimal."
"We do not know that," Maku replied flatly. "I am not stupid enough to gamble on that and trigger another outbreak."
"No. It won't affect you," Fanna cut in.
Maku glanced at her.
"Blightcap Madness is a—"
"Skip the details," I interrupted. "Maku. Do it."
Maku hesitated.
Then a sigh.
"…You're compensating me for this."
"You're billing the wrong guy."
His eyes glowed. Violet light spread through his hair, the highlights igniting first.
Six body doubles split off from him, moving in perfect sync.
Four rushed toward Tasora.
Two toward Matt.
Matt was easy.
He was already down, barely resisting as the ropes tightened around him.
Tasora, on the other hand.....
One of the clones closed in-
She kicked.
The clone split apart on impact, dispersing like mist.
She was more troublesome than expected
Another clone stepped in, swinging the rope wide, looping it around her leg like a cowboy.
The other clones followed, wrapping her like a crazed bull
Still, she fought.
Violently at that.
Clones kept flying in the air.
Maku clicked his tongue and summoned three more clones.
"Ridiculous…"
Even then, she kept struggling, muscles straining, bindings creaking under pressure.
"Drag her back to Waffel," Fanna ordered.
Maku glanced at her.
"…Wouldn't that make this worse?"
"Trust me."
He exhaled.
"I'm charging all of you for this."
The clones lifted Tasora together, holding her rigid like a coffin—
Then threw her down beside Waffel.
The change was immediate.
Tasora's resistance died down.
Her body slackened.
Then she began to move.
To be more precise, she was crawling.
Like a caterpillar inching forward.
Her destination?
Of course, straight toward Waffel.
"Recall your clones. For now," Fanna said.
Maku did not argue this time.
A flicker of violet light, and the remaining clones dissolved, snapping back into him like threads being pulled tight. He winced slightly as the feedback settled in.
"…Alright," he muttered. "Now start talking."
Fanna stepped forward, eyes locked on Waffel and Tasora.
At the same time, I pulled out the papers Matt had been writing.
"The disease is both fungal and thrum-based," Fanna explained.
"The spores latch onto the core itself. That is the reason for the unnatural strength you're seeing."
While listening to her, I flipped through the first page. I had to squint my eye because of how horrible his handwriting is.
"The spores feed on the host's thrum. As they circulate, they reinforce the body even as they colonize it. At this stage, any contact creates a new carrier," she explained.
"But my clones touched them," Maku said. "Shouldn't I have been infected already when I recalled my clones?"
Fanna shook her head.
"No. You're not."
She did a thinking pose.
"…Well. Technically, you are. It just doesn't do anything."
"Huh?"
She pointed ahead.
All eyes followed.
Tasora had already closed the distance.
Waffel let out a soft, uneven laugh, her glowing eyes half-lidded.
"What took you so long…"
She leaned in close, close enough that their breaths were mixing.
Waffel shivered.
"…What do you think they have in common?" Fanna asked.
"I hate riddles," Maku replied.
"It's not a riddle," she said. "It's their anatomy. Weaver anatomy, to be precise."
"All three of them are Astute Weavers."
Maku froze for a second.
Then it clicked.
"…So you're saying Ichor Weavers are immune to Blightcap Madness?"
Fanna nodded.
"In my homeland, we call this the Arcanist's Blight, A disease that only truly affects those whose cores are seated in the brain."
She gestured toward her head.
"Astute Weavers have their cores in the brain. The spores take root there, distort perception, and amplify impulse. That is why they lose control."
Her hand shifted to her chest.
"Ichor Weavers are different. Our cores are anchored in the heart. Our blood is refined. The spores get filtered before they can take hold properly."
Maku crossed his arms.
"So we're safe."
"Relatively," Fanna corrected. "Repeated exposure will still infect you. The difference is, you won't turn into… that."
Ahead of us, Tasora had fully stilled. Her lips rested lightly against Waffel's neck now.
"Instead, your thrum will be drained continuously. The spores will treat you as a resource. A parasite you can survive… until you can't."
I closed the papers.
That was enough.
I pushed myself up, ignoring the annoyance that was slowly building up.
"I'm heading out."
Finster looked at me. "Where are you going?"
"Errands."
He frowned, clearly not buying it.
Behind him, Fanna was already moving.
"We're not staying either. If this spreads any further, we lose control of the situation completely."
She grabbed Azalea without hesitation, pulling her along.
"Finster, come with us."
He followed.
"We're finding a cure."
I glanced back once.
Tasora and Waffel barely reacted anymore, caught in their own slowed, distorted state.
Maku exhaled.
"…So we babysit."
"Yes," Fanna said without looking back.
"The rest of you stay. Watch those three."