Baston had long since forgotten the boy named Clark.
To him, the encounter had been fleeting since it mostly left a troublesome impression. He wanted to forget everything yet the counterpart kept chasing him.
Clark had not only remembered him but had woven the fat boy into his thoughts in ways that bordered on the obsession.
It was not the harmless kind of fixation that faded with time.
From what he could infer, Clark's attention had only grown sharper and worse. That alone spoke volumes about the kind of person he was dealing with.
Clark did not merely observe him anymore since he was more daring toward his decision. Every action that he took was likely being interpreted through a lens that he himself had no control over.
Anyway, love had a peculiar way of distorting the reason. It blinded the judgment, exaggerated the importance, and turned even the smallest coincidence into something personal.
In Clark's case, that blindness had twisted into something far more troublesome. Alicia's indifference toward him had not diminished his affection. If anything, it had deepened and sharpened his behavior into a possessive desire that refused to accept the rejection.
Of course, there was also pride involved.
A noble's pride was rarely simple. Being rejected was a simple thing for common people, yet for people like Clark, it grew into something complicated.
Being denied repeatedly cultivated the deep hatred and jealousy toward someone else.
Alicia had mentioned it before in passing that beneath Clark's arrogance lay a stubborn will. When things did not go his way, he did not retreat. He forced them into his needs.
At the time, Baston had not given much thought to her words. Now, however, they carried a different weight.
"How to play against this childish noble boy…?" he thought and his expression was darkening slightly.
Clark's hostility toward him was no longer baseless. It could not be solved by reason anymore since it had already developed into an unexplainable jealousy.
"Wait a second…" he slowed his thinking as the realization deepened, "If he's been watching me, then he must have seen how often Alicia approached me… Even if I never responded to her intentions, that wouldn't matter from his perspective."
"After all, his mind was already clouded by his own jealousy…"
"If he truly monitored me, then he must have many people nearby. Perhaps, even connections inside the academy…"
If that was the case, then simple avoidance would not be enough.
Even within the academy, he might already be under watch without realizing it. The thought lingered briefly before he suppressed it.
That possibility made the situation more dangerous than he initially thought. Clark would became crazier during the passing days in the future.
Alicia was not subtle in her curiosity. Her fascination, particularly with the cult, had driven her to seek him out repeatedly. What she saw as inquiry, Clark likely saw it as intimacy.
Baston exhaled quietly since everything aligned too neatly. Eventually, it became his own fault then.
Clark had drawn his own conclusions. He had become a rival in his mind, not because of anything he had done, but because of how Alicia behaved.
From there, the escalation was almost inevitable.
"That explains the organized attack…"
The incident with the thugs was no coincidence. He had already suspected as much but now the reasoning behind it became clear since Clark had orchestrated it.
Using the existing tension between the towns as a cover, he had supplied some resources and provoked their hostility, ensuring that the attack would appear natural. It was a clever approach and it was quite difficult to trace plus effective.
Even if the suspicion arose, nothing would point directly to him.
If he had not intervened, Maskar Town would have suffered greatly. And if he had died in the chaos, it would have been dismissed as an unfortunate casualty.
"It was a clean plan…" he muttered under his breath. "It's indeed too clean..."
It was too clean to leave traces and it was also too clean to retaliate. After all, the enemy never exposed himself. Instead, he gave a command and people abided on the order.
Clark had already positioned himself in a place where any careless response would not backfire. Fortunately, the noble boy's plan had failed.
It was not because the plan was flawed but because he himself was an unpredictable variable. His presence and his hidden strength had overturned everything.
Even so, the fact remained that Clark had acted and he would likely act again. It would not be immediately but eventually.
Baston's gaze sharpened as he considered his options.
Reporting Clark to the authorities was meaningless without the evidence. And even if the evidence existed, the outcome would be uncertain at best.
After all, the nobles were not judged the same way as the commoners. That was a simple truth of this world.
If a commoner harmed a noble, the punishment was swift and severe. But when the roles were reversed, the consequences became negotiable. Their status dictated the justice. And beyond the law, there was influence.
There were families, alliances, and reputation. These things could reshape the outcome before the judgment was even declared.
The kingdom did not hide this imbalance since it was already embedded into its structure.
"Even if he's punished, it won't be enough…" he concluded.
At most, Clark would receive a warning or a light penalty. Nothing would truly deter him. Afterward, the boy would simply become more cautious on targeting the prey.
"No, reporting him isn't worth it…"
Baston dismissed the idea entirely.
Dealing with Clark directly would be more effective but it was also more dangerous. As long as Clark remained within the academy, any overt action would attract attention. He had no desire to escalate things unnecessarily.
"I'll ignore him for now... Let him think I never know who is the one behind the attack…"
At least, that ignorance could be turned into an advantage.
If Clark believed he was unaware, he might grow careless. It was not a permanent solution but it was the most practical one.
Inside the academy, Clark would be restrained by the reputation and scrutiny. Acting recklessly would damage his standing, something a noble like him could not afford.
With that decision made, he let the matter rest for the time being.
*****
The remainder of Baston's journey passed without incident.
No further ambushes occurred even though he remained aware of few distant watchers. They were subtle and cautious enough but they kept their presence.
At one point, he deliberately slowed his pace near a crossroads, pretending to adjust his belongings. From the corner of his vision, he caught a faint movement that someone was turning around.
He did not react toward such clear action.
Instead, he adjusted his breathing and posture, ensuring nothing about him that suggested his awareness.
If they were testing him, then reacting would only confirm their suspicions.
"It's better this way…" he thought.
As long as they observed without acting, he could tolerate it. It seemed Clark had not entirely withdrawn since they kept their distance.
*****
When Baston finally arrived at the gates of Prius Academy, a quiet sense of relief settled over him.
The familiar building stood unchanged and its towering presence was both imposing and reassuring.
There was something about its walls, something that naturally discouraged the chaos.
After tipping the coachman, he stepped through the gates and returned to the place he had come to regard as his home.
The academy was quieter than usual.
The vacation had not yet officially ended and many students had yet to return. The empty pathways and the subdued atmosphere created an unusual calm, one that he found unexpectedly pleasant.
Even the usual noise of the courtyard was absent.
The silence allowed smaller details to surface which was the rustling of leaves, the distant echo of few footsteps, and the faint hum of magic embedded within the buildings.
It was a different kind of vigilance, one that did not rely on presence. The academy itself felt as though it was watching over everything within its walls.
He made his way to his room without interruption.
Inside, everything remained as he had left it which was clean and neat.
There was no dust and no sign of neglect. Whether it was maintained by the staff or sustained through magic, he did not know nor did he particularly care.
"I'm home…" he murmured, lying back on his bed.
The words felt strange yet not entirely unfamiliar.
For someone like him, who lacked a true place of belonging, the academy had become something close enough.
After a moment, he sat up again. The day was still young and remaining idle would only invite the restlessness.
After some thought, he decided to head out.
There was still a voucher in the old book, the one he had yet to use. It would be a waste not to take advantage of it.
*****
The restaurant remained as Baston remembered.
It was quiet, refined, and isolated from the bustle of the town.
Each guest was given privacy which was a luxury that justified its cost.
Even the corridors were designed to absorb the sound, ensuring the conversations would not leak beyond their intended space.
He entered without hesitation and was soon seated.
"Thank you for your patronage, young master," the waiter said politely as he served the dishes.
Baston nodded, "Thank you. Actually, I wanted to ask something…"
The waiter paused and he became attentive.
"On my way here, I noticed some commotion. Is something happening nearby?"
The waiter hesitated briefly before answering, "I'm not entirely sure but there have been many soldiers from the kingdom arriving recently. At first, we thought it was related to the blizzard from last month but they're still here until now."
"They haven't left?"
"No, sir... And from what I've heard, they're searching for something."
Baston's eyes narrowed slightly, "Searching for what?"
"That part… no one seems to know..."
The waiter leaned slightly closer before lowering his voice, "Some say it's related to dark magic but that's just a rumor…"
"I see…"
The waiter gave a small and uncertain smile, "It's probably nothing serious. This is just a small town after all."
"Perhaps…" Baston replied.
After the waiter left, he fell into thought.
There were kingdom soldiers who were busy on a search. They were lingering long even after their initial purpose should have ended. Such thing was too coincidental.
"And now, there's a rumor about dark magic…"
His fingers tapped lightly against the table, "That can't be unrelated…"
The timing was too precise. It seemed multiple unseen threads were slowly converging toward the same point.
*****
An hour later, Baston finished his meal. As he leaned back, a faint tremor came from the old book. Judging from the conversation earlier, he indeed already had a hunch about it.
He waited until he was alone and then opened it. A new quest had appeared.
"Investigate what happened nearby…"
"Take the clues as many as possible to know the secret of the dark wizards…"
"There are only a few days left until the academy starts and the people will go back…"
Baston's expression hardened, "Dark wizards… again?"
The memory of his previous encounter surfaced immediately. The overwhelming power and the narrow margin of survival still haunted him.
That victory had not been earned through strength alone. It had been a luck due to the circumstance with few factors. Nevertheless, he could not rely on that again.
"Now they're here…" his gaze shifted slightly, "If the soldiers are searching for something, then this must be connected."
Surely, it meant the situation might already be dangerous. And unlike before, he would not have the luxury of stumbling into a favorable outcome.
This time, his preparation would determine his own survival.
"I hope the worse is not going to happen..."
All of this meant one thing. He would have to get involved carefully.
*****
Soon after leaving the restaurant, Baston arrived near the source of the earlier commotion.
The area had been sealed off.
Several soldiers stood at every entrance, preventing the civilians from approaching. Their posture alone showed much discipline and these surely were not ordinary ones.
He observed from a distance since there was no way to enter directly.
"In the end, I'll have to do it my way..."
He retreated into a secluded area and summoned his puppets.
One took the form of a rat, slipping silently along the ground. The other became a bird, flying to the skies.
Together, they bypassed the barricade effortlessly. Through their eyes, he observed the restricted zone.
At its center stood a modest house, now repurposed as a temporary command post. Inside and around it, the people moved with urgency yet beneath that act, there was a tension.
He did not know whether it would bring any good news or not. After all, he needed much information on the surrounding.
The bird perched on a nearby branch, listening to every word spoken and watching every sighted movement.
"Still nothing?" a voice snapped.
A man who was likely the leader stood with visible frustration, "We've searched for several days and yet, we've found no trace of dark magic. Are you telling me it simply vanished?"
"Sir, we've followed every lead," one subordinate replied, "There's no evidence left behind."
"Then, was the information wrong?"
"We can't confirm that either…"
The leader clenched his fists, "Unacceptable!"
Below, the rat continued its search, slipping through the gaps and shadows. There, he noticed the faint markings on the ground.
It was not obvious to normal eyes but to Baston's perception, they carried a familiar feeling.
"A trace of a magic circle?"
The mark was incomplete as if it was erased hastily.
He watched in silence toward his newfound.
Whatever was happening here, it was far from simple and he was already involved.