"I d-do, sire."

Diopis, the young engineer, nodded, sweating profusely with his shoulders stiff.

Horus has something in mind after cramming all the books last night - it is something not complex but something he will need in the future.

"I need a small, preferably sphere, clockwork device that absorbs mana surges. No need to make the mana releasable; I only need a mana-absorbing device. Ah, I don't need it right away; take your time. So, can you do it?"

"Y-yes. My father is a blacksmith. We will certainly make it."

Horus nods, satisfied, then turns to Gwen and asks.

"Ah, Gwen, give him thirty."

Gwen gave Diopis the initial payment, showing a gentle smile. Horus observed the stiff Diopis as he crossed his arms, then spoke, smirking.

"Please, take it as an advance payment. Looking forward to your work."

"Y-yes, sir. Thank you for your patronage."

He was confident about Diopis' engineering skills after seeing how he managed to pull off micro mana-compressors with such humble materials.

Alchemic engineering requires a lot of experience and knowledge; considering how young Diopis looks, he must be hardworking.

'Well, let's see how it will turn out.'

"Let's go."

The harsh midday sun had struck the solid bed of Opal City.

Gwen double-checked the list of items upon noticing they had all the supplies.

Horus was quite surprised by Gwen's keen eyes on quality control; she took the lead and kept all the items in check and of high quality.

"Okay, looks like we have it all. We can now resume, Sir Landon!"

Gwen called out to the coachman, Landon.

Dale and Gwen had just finished packing the new luggage in the carriage's compartment as Horus comfortably helped himself onto the carriage, delighted, for he didn't expect that things had turned out easy thanks to the three.

'Being rich is great.'

"Giddy-up!"

They continued their way southward toward the academy.

Occasionally, they had to take short halts to feed and rest the horses.

They passed groves with all greenward, ruins draped with vines, and small villages until they arrived at the Cradell-Durkton border, where the guards inspected the carriage.

Dale would mount off to talk to the guards for a moment, then continue their way smoothly.

Gwen had talked a lot, showing her diverse knowledge about places of interest they passed by as Horus often kept his reply short, but it didn't hold Gwen from her cheerful chatters.

The view is already dark - so dark he could barely see any presence - when a gigantic castle draws closer and closer as they pass the cobblestone pathway that cuts into the more dense, shady forest.

The self-sustained, evenly distanced lampposts lit the haziness surrounding them. Each had small banners hanging, almost obscured by the thick mist.

Gwen started to mumble in awe, observing the sight with her hands on the carriage's glass window.

"Ohhh, so this is the Gilshire Academy! It's more gloomy than I anticipated, though."

What appeared next was a gigantic stonework castle, spanning thousands, maybe a million yaks side-by-side, front-and-back.

Covering it was a tall, soaring solid brick wall that shelters the campus from the dangers of the murky forest around it.

The bright windows and the hanging lamps cut the haze, tearing the eerieness of the cold, damp atmosphere.

'It looks more of a fortress; it's all stone.'

The academy resides at the edge of denser South Glimp Forest.

Low- to mid-tier monsters are known to linger here, perhaps because of the presence of dungeons around the vast woods.

That is also why traveling here is challenging, unlike its north counterpart with networks of trade routes.

Luckily, the location of the Gilshire Academy is pretty far from the dungeons, making it comparably safe than one might think.

The stillness of the night was deep, but loud laughers of resting coachmen and armored guards shore the eerie haze on the castle.

They arrived at the castle's inner courtyard, where some guards patrolled on alert, but some sat with their faces flushed red.

"The Headmaster will give us a word after this! Gatekeepers aren't allowed to drink!"

"Ah, Gals nowadays... Heh."

"Mmm... Maria. Get a life sometimes, eh? It's been a while since I last quaffed. Why don't you join us and see?"

Hearing the jittery men made the lady among them yells in rage, seemingly ready to cast a spell at any time.

"I can't believe I got assigned with dipsomaniacs like you!!! I will-"

Covering the lady was an armored mage suit that was too large to fit, making clunks every time she moved a limb.

At that moment, the incoming rumbling of the arriving carriage made the armored mage abruptly tilt to the decelerating vehicle.

Sighing, she knocked at the doorframe of the carriage the moment it halted, then uttered a tired, brusque voice.

"Your admission paper, please."

Gwen hopped off and merrily handed a piece of red parchment envelope.

After checking, the mage squinted at Horus sitting inside for a moment, then resumed speaking.

"Late again, huh? Well, we'll take it from here. Mr. Durkton, please head to the lobby right away."

Horus got off as he stretched, yawning as it was already late and he had barely slept last night.

He could hear the drunk guards and coachmen gabble things about him but ignored it for good.

'They are loud.'

The female guard motioned to him, showing the way as Horus parted a wave to Gwen, Dale, and Landon, who started carrying his things in the opposite direction.

"Mr. Durkton, head this way, please."

He entered the cobblestone hallway connecting the courtyard and the lobby, smirking as he was relieved.

He intended to arrive at night, for he knew the academy kept strict curfew hours, which meant fewer chances of stumbling upon disciples.

Around the hallway were lit wall lamps, spaced evenly, powered by an interconnected web of concealed mana strings that span every wall of this castle.

'It's all stone, but the stonework and architecture are no joke.'

Awed by the academy's expected interior, Horus kept his eyes straight upon arriving at the lobby full of empty, long seats.

There were a few people, perhaps late-arriving disciples as well.

In front of them was an old lady wearing a black robe and a pointed hat, who started speaking as she noticed Horus' arrival.

"It seems like that's the last of you latecomers."

It was a stern yet professional tone.

Short after, the old lady waved a hand, causing a sucking blast of wind that shut the wide archaic door from the hallway. It made Horus' clothes and hair flutter in disarray.

[ Air Vacuum ]

It's a common wind-element spell Horus is familiar with from the novel.

He was dazed since it was his first genuine encounter with this world's magic.

"Please follow me."

[ Aeroblast ]

Whoosh. Another wide door swung open by another blasting spell of wind, wondering Horus how powerful that wind spell was that it could easily open an iron door weighing heck ton.

They arrived at the end of yet another hallway.

The old lady slightly frowns as she strode, then whispers without turning.

"Please be aware that the Headmaster was quite fussy about latecomers recently. So I advise behaving to get your admission stamped."

'Wait, they punish latecomers?'

They entered a spacious, slick, and sufficiently lit office with windows and bookshelves on every wall.

At the center was a modest basalt desk, and behind were barely noticeable stone doors that led to some unknown.

A hairless yet goateed wrinkled man turned to them, sitting still at the desk, hands clasped as his eyes barely open.

"Thank you, Professor Malwint. I'll take them from here."

The old Headmaster uttered crisply, roughly deep-toned as if out of saliva.

The old lady - Professor Malwint - nods as she leaves, closing the wide door with a soft creak.

'To think that this grandpa was the real deal.'

He was the Headmaster in the novel's first half and recognized as an ace-tier earth mage despite being called an egghead by most disciples.

In the novel, Headmaster Viscador was the first Headmaster who allowed the admission of commoner disciples into the Gilshire Academy.

It was quite a talk by the Royal Society, but they couldn't ignore Headmaster Viscador's political influence.

After all, he was a former Magic Tower Head and didn't become one of the continent's Seven Keepers for just show.

Even the Golian Royal Family fears meddling with him.

The Headmaster stood and rounded each of the five, causing his white robe to wave on each gentle yet heavy step.

His eyes darted to the young lady wearing a black veil and ended to Horus, who was frowning, arms crossed with his eyes shut.

"Hmm... Last year, I was carelessly considerate to rule-breakers. That is why I had been revising most of the academy's rules and ordinances, but the recent years are the worst in history; two hundred rule-breaking incidents in a single year."

Headmaster Viscador spoke, putting weight on each word that echoed into the silent room.

"I do admit that I had relied too much on the same ways of punishment the last Headmasters relayed to this generation. This time, rather - I am thinking of giving alternative ways to put rule-breakers on work, you see."

Those words made everyone focus on the Headmaster, showing hints of relief on their puzzled faces, some anxious.

For Horus, however, he felt iffy.

He knew Headmaster Viscador was neither lenient nor forgiving.

After all, the man in front of him was a sharp, commanding ace-mage that could summon a mountain up in a sea if he was serious.

"Hmm... I shall enlist you all at the Watchers Assembly. They have been running out of members recently. Counting you in might be a good way to learn your lecture."

'Ah. Hell, no way.'

Horus swore internally as his frown sank more than ever.

There exist one disciple body assembly in the Gilshire: the Watchers Assembly.

Without going to specifics, the assembly is synonymous with a disciplinary committee that runs on a typical campus.

One of the latecomers started to utter in a whisper, enough for him to hear.

"The Watchers Assembly?"

Silence fills the room until the veiled young lady answers, delivering in a grim tone as everybody turns to her.

"It's a major branch of committee in the academy. They are a body of disciples that acts as observers that report things to authorities. They perform campus patrols and maintain discipline among disciples and the academy's concord of peace and defense against monsters lingering outside the campus walls."

'Ah..., what mess just I have gotten myself into.'

Horus felt weary thinking that his living-a-stress-free-academy-life scheme had pulverized into mere pieces.

He had grown enough to hate any laborious jobs, plus he couldn't even fight a low-tier monster or meddle in a fight of disciples himself.

Additionally, considering it's already the start of the novel's second volume, Axel and Effelia must already be members of the said assembly.

'Just fuck me sideways.'

He thought all his devoted plans were crumbling one by one, making him sigh from frustration as he turned to the Headmaster, who began to talk in delight.

"Excellent. It seems like I don't have to explain things further. I'll credit you, Ms. Guillan, for remembering it."

The veiled young lady nods, smiling as another guy mumbles in a stutter.

"B-but Headmaster, I'm on a strict training schedule. C-could you please reconsider-"

"Please, rest assured... rest assured. If you accomplish your work well, your service term will only last a semester. You may go now."

Headmaster Viscador turned away as he chuckled softly, hands on his back to stretch his old bones.

Soon, all started to mutter, heading to the door with different expressions.

"Ah, except you, Mr. Durkton."

In response, Horus halted, watching the others leave as the door creaked to silence.

Now that the two were alone, Headmaster Viscador turned to the unbothered Horus, who he thought was unexpectedly quiet.

"Mr. Durkton, do you feel any strange sensations... or pains in your body?"

'...?'

Horus blankly stared at Headmaster Viscador, who showed a somewhat concerned face, making him think for a moment.

The Headmaster and Horus in the novel should have no interaction except when Horus got suspended for a week after harassing a professor.

However, his father and Headmaster Viscador must be relatively close - Count Durkton is one of the major sponsors of the academy, after all.

But neither answer why the Headmaster is asking such an unpredicted question.

"You seem to be out of it just now. I suppose you don't feel good?"

"I'm fine, sir."

The wrinkles on Headmaster's tired face droop as he slightly bends his head unconvinced to the response, observing Horus almost glaringly, taking a moment before giving a reply.

"Okay... You may go. Don't be late tomorrow."

Slowly turning and walking away, Horus holds the doorknob gently, then ceases as Headmaster Viscador seems about to say something.

"Come to me if so, Mr. Durkton. I will personally nurse you."

"...Thanks, Headmaster."

The depth of midnight sunk deep as Horus flopped his tired body on the bed.

He is currently in a double dorm room on the sixth floor of the men's dormitory tower - which happened to be the last floor dedicated to misbehaving disciples.

Luckily, he had no roommate; one reason he knew no one wanted to share a room with him.

Horus scratches his messy hair, unable to sleep, rolling on the bed twice until he finally calms down rested on his stomach.

'The pills.'

It was what he had been up to his mind after his conversation with the Headmaster.

'It's suspicious. Why is the Count keeps reminding me to take it?'

He finds it too dubious: the pills inside the small glass jar he is currently holding.

He knows Horus Durkton shouldn't be sick, but what concerns him is the effects of the drug since he hadn't taken any since he transmigrated four days ago.

'I need to investigate this.'

Assuring himself with that words is the last thing he could remember before falling into slumber.