Unwan stopped before the gate and grasped the iron knocker, rapping it against the metal piece. The sound was low, but he believed it should have reached the guard inside.
A voice came from the other side.
— Who is it?
— I want to join the Academy.
— You're late. Come back tomorrow.
'What?'
— Late? How so?
— The sun has already set. Do you think we work day and night? Besides, it's dangerous outside. For all I know, you could be a Night creature that knows how to speak like a human.
'What a twisted imagination.'
Still, this reaction was common. Few trusted any human voice heard at night. True, not many Night creatures could speak the human, but they did exist. Unwan simply didn't know that.
— Heh. Fine, maybe I really am a Night creature. But what if I'm not? Are you really going to leave a kid who just received his grimoire out on the streets at night?
— Then go home.
'If only I had one.'
— I don't have a home, sir. I'm an orphan. I came here from the Rolan Dantes Orphanage due to certain circumstances. I have nowhere to stay. Please, just let me inside.
— And what good would that do? The Genius-tier instructors have already finished their work. They're eating now. After that, they'll go to sleep. No one will examine you tonight. Don't waste your time.
'That's the excuse?'
— Not even a little pity for a poor orphan boy?
— Especially not. What about you deserves pity?
Unwan crooked smile.
— I have a grimoire. I couldn't have come here without one.
— So what?
— It's… rare. Extremely rare. So rare that you've probably never even heard of one like it.
— Hmph. What kind of grimoire is it, then? What's its power?
— I don't know its name, I can't read language of runes yet. But its power is extraordinary.
— Get to the point.
— In short, it can alter the force between two objects.
— …What kind of power is that?
'Damn it. Why does no one but me understand this?'
— It's hard to explain. If you let me inside, I'll show you.
There was no reply. Instead, the sound of metal scraping against metal echoed. A few seconds later, the gate opened slightly, just wide enough for a person to pass through.
A man stepped out. He was roughly Unwan's height, perhaps a little taller. His beard and hair were white, neatly kept, merging together. Judging by his appearance, he was in his fifties. And...
He was impeccably dressed. It was hard to believe he was a mere guard.
"So," the man said calmly. "What kind of grimoire do you have?"
They went inside, entering the room behind the gate.
Unwan had expected something like an ordinary school interior. He was wrong.
Not only the outer walls, but every wall, especially the floor was built of solid stone. It felt less like a school and more like a fortress. A place designed to survive a siege.
The room itself was simple. A table stood in the center. Crimson weapons hung neatly along the walls. They gathered around the table. Something lay upon it, but the darkness made it hard to tell what. When the old man lit the candle at the center...
Food. Food so lavish that Unwan had never even seen its like in his dreams. His stomach growled involuntarily.
"So," the man said. "Show me your grimoire, boy."
— Y–yes.
Unwan placed the grimoire on the table.
The old man pulled it closer and examined it carefully. Minutes passed as he studied it, muttering to himself. In the end, he looked disappointed.
— Interesting, You said your spells alters force?
— Yes. The force between two objects.
— Uh, What kind of force?
— For example… uh, could you hold my grimoire for a moment?
— hm, alright.
The old man picked it up.
'Good. Focus. Target. Upward.'
Unwan raised two fingers toward the grimoire and lifted his hand slightly, thinking up.
Seconds passed. Nothing happened. Yet the old man began to smile faintly.
— Hm. Interesting spell. So you can change an object's weight?
— No... Well, yes, but not exactly. It's not just that. I can redirect it too. It's better if I show you again. May I use that apple?
He gestured toward the plate.
— Go ahead.
Unwan canceled the spell, took the apple, and placed it alone on the table. He raised his hand again, but this time angled it toward the wall.
The apple shot sideways, slamming into the stone with a wet crack. It crushed on impact. Yet it didn't fall.
It remained there, pinned to the wall as if nailed by an invisible force.
— Like that. Do you understand now?
The old man fell silent, thinking.
— Yeah. Somewhat.
Unwan released the spell immediately. He couldn't use much spell yet and now he was nearly exhausted.
— Tired?
— A little. So… what do you think of my ability?
— It's… useful, in its own way. But your grimoire itself interests me more.
— What do you mean?
— I've never seen one like it. Violet, have a heptagon, a single complete star. Everything about it is strange. And the inside… You said you can't read rune language. That's fine. Emma will teach you.
'What? Who's Emma?'
— Excuse me, who is Emma?
— She's an instructor specializing in grimoires and rune language. A Genius-tier expert. A bit short-tempered, but a good teacher.
— But… I haven't even been admitted yet. There hasn't been any examination. I mean, if I fail the questioning, I'll be sent away anyway, right?
— Who said you'd fail?
— What?
— You were personally examined by the Survival in Night Curse Faculty instructor, Nort Farx.
— Huh? What are you talking about?
The man sighed.
— Honestly, you're slow. I'm Nort Farx. I've just examined you. Your understanding of your spells and your application of it were sufficient.
He smiled faintly.
— From today onward, you are a student of the Academy.
— What?
Unwan froze.
Then joy flooded his chest. So much fortune in a single day. Yet one thought lingered in his mind.
'Why isn't he looking at me with disgust like the others? Why doesn't he hate me?'