Just as Baston had expected, several days passed without any sign of Claire. The woman who had once appeared like an unpredictable storm had vanished just as suddenly.
No messenger arrived and no invitation was delivered. Not even a passing glance from the noble faction reached his corner of the academy. To him, the silence was a blessing.
Claire Versance had already found someone far more suitable to her taste. The mysterious beautiful girl who appeared during her visit possessed both strength and elegance which everything he clearly lacked. Compared to that radiant figure, the fat boy from the poor class was nothing more than an awkward shadow.
Baston sighed quietly. Even though it hurt his pride a little, but still, he had chosen this outcome himself.
It was better to suffer a small bruise to his ego than to allow another noble family to wrap the invisible chains around his neck. He had already seen how the power worked in this world. The noble families rarely offered help without expecting something far more valuable in return.
Such freedom was priceless and precious. He valued his freedom more than any title or protection. Eventually, if Claire had truly shifted her attention somewhere else, that was perfect.
Let the woman looked for the nonexistent person and he would stay far away from the center of her storm.
*****
After escaping the troublesome situation, Baston returned to what he considered the safest strategy by doing nothing and lazing around.
He spent most of his time inside his dormitory room.
However, this room was no longer the same miserable space that he had first received when entering the academy. Back then, the room had been cramped, damp, and poorly ventilated. The walls smelled faintly of mold and the window frame had been warped from many years of neglect.
Now, the things were very different since the room had quietly been upgraded.
First, the academy improved his dormitory after he revealed the rare ice attribute. Such rare magic talent was the valuable resources and the academy did not want such a student living in the conditions that reflected poorly on its reputation.
By then, the second upgrade came after his astonishing performance in the magic competition. Such string of events apparently made the new room became bigger.
The stone floor had been replaced with the polished wood panels. A proper bed frame now supported the mattress instead of the old wooden board. A mana crystal lamp was hung from the ceiling, casting a steady soft glow instead of the flickering cheap lamp that he once used.
Even the window had been replaced with clear reinforced glass. The fresh air flowed through the room without carrying the unpleasant scent of damp stone.
Baston lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It was comfortable, too comfortable that he wanted to sleep all the day in his new room.
He was happy about the improvement but a quiet unease still lingered in his chest.
The academy had begun to notice him.
Principal Viral himself had watched his matches during the competition. From the moment he revealed, not only raw magical power but also an unusual ability to adapt during the battle, the principal's attitude had subtly shifted.
To him, Baston represented the potential. A student with a rare element and unpredictable combat instincts could become a future pillar of the academy.
Perhaps, even the greatest wizard the institution had ever produced.
Naturally, such talent needed a proper care and that care came with more expectations. He turned over on the bed and groaned softly.
"That's the problem…"
*****
For the first two days, Baston had enjoyed the improvement without thinking too deeply about it. But by the third night, the comfort of the room began to feel strangely deliberate.
The blankets were thicker than before and the wooden wardrobe had been more solid. Even the desk by the window had been replaced with one that was polished so neatly that he could faintly see his own reflection on its surface.
None of these changes were grand enough to attract the public attention, yet each of them carried the same quiet message. Someone had decided that he was worth investing in.
That thought bothered him more than the moldy walls of his previous room ever had.
When poverty embraced him, his life was harsh but simple. When the people started taking care of him, it meant they had started measuring his future. He could almost feel the invisible eyes behind these improvements.
How much talent did he truly possess?
How far could he rise?
And more importantly, to whom would that future strength eventually belong?
The room was cleaner now, warmer, and better in every possible way. Yet sometimes, especially late at night, he felt as though the comfort itself was a kind of net that was slowly tightening around him.
The recognition always brought the responsibility and such responsibility brought the attention. This attention was the one thing that he absolutely did not want.
The old book alone was already dangerous enough. If too many people began watching him closely, sooner or later, someone would notice the peculiar strange.
His abilities, his sudden improvements, and his impossible luck would be investigated. The secrets like these could not survive under the constant scrutiny.
That was why Baston had stubbornly maintained his status within the poor class of the academy. Even though his achievements now allowed him to move upward, he continued delaying the process.
Many people had already advised him otherwise.
Some teachers believed it was foolish for someone with his talent to remain in the lowest social tier but he only smiled politely and postponed the decision.
Less attention meant fewer problems. For now, the anonymity was still his greatest shield.
*****
While Baston enjoyed his lazy retreat, the news from the academy continued to circulate.
Several students talked about the results of the magic competition. The junior tournament had already concluded. As many people expected, Alicia Xavierius emerged as the winner.
The noble girl had displayed remarkable control over her magic, leaving little doubt that she would soon become one of the academy's brightest talents.
Baston merely nodded when he heard the news. He was not surprised since she had always possessed that level of ability. As for the senior competition, he showed little interest.
Those students belonged to an entirely different circle and their affairs rarely intersected with his own. More importantly, he wanted a peace.
The old book had remained silent for several days. There was no quests, no mysterious objectives, and no life-threatening penalties.
For the first time in what felt like the ages, he could breathe without worrying about what the next page of the book might demand from him. Naturally, he decided to protect this fragile peace.
His strategy was simple which was to stay inside. If he didn't go outside, the book would have fewer opportunities to trigger new quests.
Karte handled the food and drinks for him, bringing meals to the room regularly. With that loyal servant that was managing the daily necessities, Baston barely needed to leave the room at all.
It was almost like a vacation.
However, even he knew this peaceful life could not last forever. Eventually, he would have to step outside again. But for now, he was determined to enjoy every moment of this rare calm.
*****
Of course, the complete isolation was impossible.
One afternoon, a familiar visitor arrived which was Panto. The merchant's son stepped into the room while carrying several documents under his arm.
Baston sighed when he saw him since there was no escaping this responsibility.
After all, the reason Panto had become involved in the company was because he himself had killed its previous owner which was Levan. Technically speaking, the company now existed under his invisible control.
Although he occasionally used the puppet disguised as Levan to maintain the appearances, he could not visit the company personally every day.
If something happened while he was unavailable, the entire operation might collapse. That was why they needed a proper supervisor.
Panto unfolded one of the documents and scanned the contents carefully, "My people should arrive this afternoon."
Baston nodded slowly, "Once they arrive, the fake Levan will introduce them to the workers. That way the transition will look natural."
Panto looked satisfied toward the plan, "Good... Otherwise, there might be a resistance."
Baston leaned back in his chair, "After that, my people will gradually reduce his appearances. Eventually, Levan will claim that other business requires his attention."
"It means my people will run the company and they will slowly forget the previous owner..."
"Exactly..."
Panto tapped the document thoughtfully, "What about the workers' salaries?"
Baston's eyes narrowed slightly, "Raise them..."
Levan had stolen a large portion of the workers' earnings for years. The illusion of kindness that he created was built on the carefully distributed charity while the majority of profits vanished into his hidden pockets.
Now that he controlled the operation, he intended to change that balance.
Panto nodded, "As long as we accept the smaller profits, we can slowly improve their living conditions."
He paused for a moment, "Should we report everything to the kingdom authorities?"
Baston shook his head immediately, "There's no need."
Panto frowned, "Why?"
"Because those people will believe Levan long before they believe the kingdom."
Panto sighed, "That… is probably true..."
During his visits to the company, Panto had already witnessed the strange loyalty that the workers showed toward Levan. To them, the merchant was not merely an employer. He was a benefactor and a savior.
Levan was someone who had rescued them from the poverty.
Panto had once casually mentioned the rumors about Levan's darker dealings. The reaction had been immediate after that. There was anger, suspicion, and hostility toward him.
The workers defended Levan fiercely. It was as if criticizing him was an unforgivable insult. Panto was forced to quickly drop the topic.
Now, thinking back on that moment, a single word surfaced in his mind. Everyone had become a fanatic. The word made his spine feel strangely cold.
*****
Later that evening, Panto left Baston's room.
However, instead of returning directly to his own dormitory, he walked toward the noble district of the academy.
Reaching Alicia Xavierius was not easy. However, she had once told him something. If he ever discovered a new information about the cult, he could contact her guards. Eventually, he did exactly that.
After a brief exchange with the guards, he was escorted discreetly inside Alicia's residence.
Once again, he found himself sitting across from Alicia in a quiet chamber. After hearing everything about Levan and the company, Alicia's brows slowly furrowed.
"I never expected him to be this dangerous…"
Her voice carried a genuine disbelief.
Levan had carefully built the image of a modest and generous merchant. Even many nobles respected his reputation yet behind that mask, he had robbed the very people who trusted him.
Still, her thoughts drifted toward another question.
Why was Baston always present whenever something unusual happened?
The academy had been peaceful for years, but since he became active, the incidents continued appearing one after another. There were dark wizards, secret dealings, and hidden conspiracies.
Was this a coincidence or something else?
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Currently, there were only three people in the academy who knew about the cult's existence which were Baston, herself, and Panto.
Baston had never revealed this information to anyone else. That meant the secret belonged only to them. Alicia felt an unexpected warmth at that realization.
Being trusted with such knowledge created a strange sense of closeness. Still, Panto's next words pulled her thoughts back to the present.
"I'm afraid the workers are becoming fanatics…"
Alicia froze then she slowly nodded, "Yes…"
She leaned back in her chair, "If we think about it carefully, that is exactly what they are becoming."
Panto leaned forward, "When I spoke badly about Levan, they reacted immediately. Even if the truth comes out, I don't think they will accept it."
"They won't, for sure…" Alicia said calmly.
Her gaze darkened slightly, "All the truth in their world comes from Levan alone."
Eventually, something clicked inside her mind. A quiet realization that made her eyes widened.
"Wait..."
Panto blinked, "What is it?"
Alicia spoke slowly, "Perhaps, Baston is using Levan as the bait."
"Bait?"
"Yes..."
Her voice became sharper, "If Levan had any connections behind the scenes, those people would eventually grow suspicious when the communication stops."
Panto hesitated, "But from everything I saw, Levan worked alone."
Alicia shook her head, "That only proves one thing."
"What?"
"The person behind him doesn't need money..."
Panto stared at her in confusion, "Then, what do they want?"
Alicia answered quietly, "People…"
The silence filled the room. Slowly, Panto's expression changed since the idea suddenly made a terrifying sense.
Money could motivate people but the fanatics could control them. The workers at the company were already halfway there. If Baston had not intervened, those people might eventually become something far more dangerous.
Panto swallowed, "I never imagined the people could become a resource."
Alicia gave a small smile, "Then you still have much to learn."
*****
Meanwhile, back in the dormitory, Baston sneezed. Once, then twice, and then three times in a row.
"Did someone just curse me?"
He rubbed his nose suspiciously, but after a moment, he shrugged. He was too lazy to think about it. Right now, he had more important priorities which was to rest.
He lay comfortably on the bed. In one hand, he held a grilled chicken stick. In the other, he held a glass of fruit juice.
His life felt good and it maybe too good at the moment. His body had already become noticeably heavier but that problem could wait for the future. For now, he simply wanted to enjoy his well-earned peace.
"It's really quiet lately…"
Then suddenly, a strange tremor came from nearby. Just by the sound, he knew what was happening.
"Brrrrr…"
The old book trembled. He froze and his expression slowly collapsed.
"I shouldn't have said that…"
For several seconds, he stared at the book that was lying on the table. The faint vibration continued until it stopped. He reluctantly sighed, accepting his future fate.
One hour later, after finishing the food and taking a short nap, he finally walked toward the table.
With heavy hands, he opened the old book and waited for the next page to reveal its demand. The quiet vacation was over apparently.