I’m sure you readers could have guessed, but the place we headed after finishing lunch was the bench on that remote walking path.
The one where Reysir and I had talked several times, and where Fret had a history of eavesdropping on our conversation back in chapter 245.
Despite that fact.
“Wow! I didn’t know a place like this existed within the Academy!”
Fret spat out such a lie with a brazen face.
It was truly exasperating, but if I showed my annoyance, the original protagonist would surely find me suspicious. I decided to simply ignore him, trudging forward to take a seat at one end of the bench.
“Since I need to talk to both of you, it would be best if I sat in the middle!”
“No. The middle is Yor’s spot. So, you stay standing.”
This meeting was arranged specifically for Reysir to interrogate Fret. As such, the two of them would be doing most of the talking, and I didn’t want to sit awkwardly between them. That was why I had sat at the edge.
‘Anyway, I avoided being sandwiched between them, so is there no problem?’
I thought the original protagonist’s behavior—engaging in a power struggle over a mere seat—was childish. However, reminding myself that the current Reysir was still young and was on high alert after realizing Fret’s true identity, I decided to let it slide.
Yor seemed to share my sentiment, shaking his small head before curling up in the center of the bench. Fret looked at Reysir with a bewildered expression.
Regardless of his reaction, the protagonist of another novel took the remaining empty seat and sat down.
“Don’t you think this arrangement is a bit strange?”
This time, Fret looked at me and complained. It was a statement I couldn’t help but agree with. Unfortunately, I was in a situation where I had to ignore his plight.
‘Senna’s readers already seem to view me with disapproval. If I side with a suspicious character in front of the original protagonist, I’ll definitely be marked as a villain.’
I quietly lowered my gaze and began stroking Yor’s fur, feigning indifference. Meanwhile, the protagonist of another novel pulled a tumbler from his [Inventory], stuck two straws into it, and handed it to me.
“Drink this with Yor. Honestly, I wanted to prepare something separate for you, but this was the only cup I had with a cooling function…”
When I took the tumbler, I heard the clinking of ice cubes from inside. Taking a sip through the straw, the taste of sweet strawberries and refreshing yogurt mixed with milk flowed smoothly down my throat.
There was no way Reysir had made this himself.
‘Did he stop by the cafeteria before lunch?’
As if to confirm my suspicion, Reysir then pulled out sandwiches stuffed with chocolate cream and fresh strawberries. He personally unwrapped them and handed one to me and one to Yor.
Taking a bite, the harmony of flavors was excellent; it was clearly the work of a professional. I almost blurted out a thank you.
“If… if you only had one tumbler, you should have told me in advance. If you had, I would have entrusted you with the tumbler I own.”
On second thought, I realized this wasn’t something to be thankful for, so I shifted my stance. It was largely Reysir’s fault that Yor and I couldn’t finish our meal properly. He probably prepared these snacks because he didn’t want to feel guilty toward me, so why should I be the one feeling grateful?
“Hahaha. The thought of preparing snacks only occurred to me while I was showering after the morning lecture. I didn’t have time to tell you, you see? So, can you let it slide just for today?”
“…Tell me in advance next time.”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it.”
I considered asking him when he had decided to talk to Fret—besides the snack preparation—but I decided against it. It was obvious it was the moment he discovered Fret’s needle during yesterday’s lunch break. There was no need to ask a question I already knew the answer to, and…
‘It feels a bit wrong to continue a conversation about nothing when someone is standing there awkwardly right in front of us.’
So, I sat there silently biting into my sandwich.
“Senior Reysir, what about mine?”
“I don’t have any.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re here to talk to me.”
That was the conversation they exchanged. Come to think of it, Reysir hadn’t even pulled out a sandwich for himself. I suppose if you’re having a serious conversation, eating something like a chocolate strawberry sandwich would make the atmosphere too light.
‘But… if that’s the reason, what is this thing in my hand?’
I felt that thinking too deeply about it would only be a loss for me. So, I decided to interpret it as him saying, ‘I’ll handle the interrogation of Fret, so you just watch and eat.’ Although the question of why he even brought me along followed closely behind, it was natural to assume he did it because explaining today’s conversation to me later would be a hassle.
“Oh, really? I thought you made me stand here just to boast about how close you are to Senior Karbaldr. I’m glad to hear you actually summoned me because you have something to discuss.”
“If that was the goal, I wouldn’t have put Yor in the middle.”
“Didn’t it turn out like this because you were trying to stop me from sitting in that spot?”
“Who knows? It might have been like that, or maybe not.”
To Fret’s sarcastic remark, the protagonist of another novel simply shrugged his shoulders and navigated the conversation fluidly. However, the atmosphere made it clear that the real psychological battle was just beginning.
I couldn’t let them waste time unnecessarily, so I decided to intervene briefly.
“Stop with the pointless chatter and get to the point.”
“I was planning to do just that.”
I wondered if he really was, but knowing that pointing it out would only prolong the meaningless conversation, I bit into my sandwich again and watched the two of them.
“To put it bluntly, my Aether Attribute ability isn’t just ‘the power to handle lightning.’ I, like Karbaldr, possess two types of Aether.”
As Reysir spoke, he slightly lifted his eye patch to reveal a silver eye before immediately covering it again. I thought he would start by testing the waters, asking if Fret was really a circus performer, so this was unexpected. Still, the surprise I felt was probably nothing compared to what Fret felt.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing. Not even a rumor…”
‘Was his pride as the next head of the world’s greatest intelligence guild wounded?’ For some reason, Fret seemed more shocked by the fact that he hadn’t known about its existence until now than by Reysir revealing the Silver Aether to him.
“That’s because when I was young, this Silver Aether hadn’t properly settled. A silver light would appear in my eye very rarely and then vanish instantly. So few people saw it, and even those who did just thought they’d seen wrong and moved on. Besides, after things became like this, I’ve been going around with an eye patch, so it was inevitable.”
“Why are you revealing this fact to me all of a sudden? You’ve kept the existence of that Aether tightly hidden until now, even going as far as to cover one eye uncomfortably.”
“I haven’t told just anyone, and I did keep it a secret, but I wasn’t wearing the eye patch specifically to hide it.”
“Then why?”
“When the First Mystic Realm occurred… in my struggle to survive, my Gold Aether was completely exhausted, and the Silver Aether went out of control. Since then, a transparent window appeared over my right eye, obscuring my vision by displaying information about all sorts of objects. I had no choice but to wear an eye patch because I couldn’t see properly.”
Reysir continued his incredibly kind explanation while fingering the eye patch over his right eye. He could have just said, ‘I’m telling you this to let you know I read the information on the needle you dropped!’ thereby cornering him without giving him a chance to ask questions.
‘Is he trying to see if the setting I created for him works even on the successor of an information guild leader…?’
Fortunately, Fret seemed to believe the original protagonist’s words entirely. There wasn’t a hint of suspicion; only pure shock was clearly written on his face.
“You can see information about objects? Can you see information about people, too?”
“What I can see now with this [Identification] skill is only ‘things without an ego, like objects and plants.’ I heard that as my proficiency increases, I might be able to look at ‘those who agree to have their information shown,’ but since I can’t even control the Silver Aether yet, that’s a pipe dream for now.”
“That’s still amazing!”
“It is. Amazing enough that I can find out your true identity even now.”
The man who had been responding kindly to every question suddenly sharpened his gaze, his eyes flashing with wariness. It was a look that would make an ordinary person flinch and inadvertently show their fluster.
However, Fret was no ordinary person.
“Aha? What do you mean by that?”
He spoke with a reaction that suggested he had no idea what was being said. In his bewildered expression, one could even sense a feeling of absurdity, as if he had heard something so nonsensical he was dumbfounded. It seemed he intended to play dumb for now and see what evidence Reysir would present.
“Yesterday, after Professor Caldrun’s lecture ended, I picked this up and kept it.”
“That’s my needle. Did you keep it for me? How kind.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Hmm—given the atmosphere, I suppose not. Did you keep it to examine it with that [Identification] skill? Even if you did, there wouldn’t be much of importance written there.”
“If that were the case, I wouldn’t be talking to you like this.”
Reysir flicked the needle he had just pulled from his [Inventory], holding it between his index and middle fingers, toward Fret. Fret let out an “Oops!” and clapped his hands together to catch it.
His exaggerated exclamation and movements were somewhat ridiculous. Despite that, Reysir’s expression remained cold as ice. Even on Fret’s composed face, a faint hint of trouble began to appear.
“What did Senior Reysir’s skill say about this needle?”
“It said it’s a special weapon crafted with great care, one by one, by a master artisan belonging to the Hrafnin Information Guild, specifically for ‘Fret Grimur’.”
As I had written in the previous chapter, readers would know that the information of the ‘Hyeonchim’ currently readable by the [True Eyes That Read Truth] does not include Fret’s real name. In other words, it was an element Reysir had deliberately added.
To corner his opponent completely.
“I guess the surname ‘Hullid’ was fake. You’re not from a circus troupe, but the Information Guild? Even more, Fret, for a blacksmith there to pour their soul into every tiny needle just for you… just what is your position in that guild?”