Chapter 324: Sallie von Decullan

Sallie von Decullan.

I found myself paying close attention to him once more as our third year commenced.

‘For some reason… something feels off.’

From what I had gathered so far, Sallie possessed such a gentle heart that he seemed like an entirely different individual compared to his past life.

“Hey, where’s the assignment?”

“Oh, right… but I think I left it back at the residential halls.”

“Dammit! Are you kidding me? It’s due before lunch today. Will you take the blame if our group gets docked points because of you? Go fetch it right now during the break.”

“Yes, I understand…”

Even the students who initially kept their distance out of fear of the Decullan name were now regularly treating Sallie like garbage.

Was this shocking or just par for the course?

Given the sheer influence of the Decullan family, it was quite unexpected. However, looking back at the incident at the Torre de las Pruebas, it made total sense.

The catastrophe at the Torre de las Pruebas was officially blamed on the underhanded actions of their vassal family, Bimarr, rather than Decullan itself, yet everyone was well aware that Decullan was pulling the strings from the shadows.

What truly astonished me, though, was how Sallie responded.

“Whew… pant… here is the assignment. I got it. It’s not that big of a deal, right? These things happen. Right? It’s not like I did it on purpose.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Anyone could see that this treatment was deliberate. It was exactly the kind of provocation where getting red-faced and snapping back would be completely justified…

‘But he always just lets it slide like this.’

I watched Sallie in silence as he dejectedly flipped open his textbook. He was panting heavily from sprinting back and forth to the dormitory during the break, looking thoroughly pathetic.

Was this really the same guy?

This wasn’t the Sallie I used to know.

“Eeek! Y-Young, Young Patriarch!”

“Are my ears playing tricks on me, or did you actually just call me Young Patriarch? Well, make a choice. Left hand or right hand? Or perhaps I should slice off an ankle?”

Sallie never overlooked even the most minor blunder from the servants.

A slip of the tongue meant losing that tongue. A mistake cost a wrist. He would frequently go straight for the throat.

A man consumed by an inferiority complex, paranoia, and a sinister madness.

…That was the Sallie of my memories.

What on earth happened?

Had some event reshaped him?

In the past, I might have assumed he was merely masking his true self.

But perhaps because of what I had already witnessed with Damian…

I began to monitor Sallie more closely.

And in doing so, I inadvertently discovered a few details.

First of all: that guy was an absolute workhorse.

“Pant! Pant, pant!”

He would wake up at the break of dawn and jog laps around the training grounds.

After that, he did some light weight training—nothing extraordinary up to that point. It could barely be classified as real training. After lifting weights, he would activate a breathing technique and head straight to the library. He grabbed a bite at lunchtime and then attended lectures.

He never once dozed off during lectures. He always paid undivided attention, and during breaks, he remained glued to his seat reviewing the notes.

Once classes concluded, he returned to his room for more breathing exercises.

Following that, he grabbed his books and headed back to the library.

He studied until midnight, sustaining himself on a basic cafeteria sandwich for dinner.

And past midnight…

‘Personal training until bedtime.’

That went on until two in the morning; it wasn’t an incredibly lengthy session.

The bizarre part was the time he woke up.

‘…Four o’clock again.’

Naturally, anyone could stick to such a grueling schedule for a day or two.

But the reason I deemed him a tireless worker was…

Had he been doing this every single day?

Yes, that was the truth.

From what I gathered, from the moment he transferred to Academia Jenion up to the present day, he had adhered to this exact routine without a single break.

“For real?”

“Absolutely. If you want, I can set up a meeting with the source. For an extra fee, of course.”

“No, I trust you.”

“Thank you for your business.”

I watched Pola pocket the payment and then reviewed the document handed to me.

It contained the testimony of Sallie’s roommate, a second-year student who recounted what he had observed while sharing quarters with him over the past year.

It wasn’t the work of a professional investigator, so it lacked objectivity and was a disorganized read, but that was precisely why certain truths became evident.

According to the former roommate… he was a hopeless incompetent.

Yes, that hit the mark perfectly. From what I witnessed, it aligned flawlessly.

‘His marks are consistently at the very bottom. He barely manages to pass without flunking out.’

Whether in theory or practical execution, nothing stood out.

He clearly put in several times more effort than everyone else, yet his results failed to even catch up to theirs.

However, Sallie never grew weary.

It was as if the concept of exhaustion didn’t exist to him, like a machine endlessly looping the exact same day.

Thus, I had no choice but to confront the issue.

‘…What should I do?’

It was a different kind of predicament than when he initially transferred.

Back then, his very presence spelled chaos, and I needed to sort out my thoughts.

Now, I was weighing more pragmatic elements.

‘If I am to eliminate him, it has to happen while he is still at the academy.’

I still couldn’t be entirely certain of anything.

…Not completely.

At any rate, my monitoring of Sallie persisted, leaving my emotions in a tangled mess.

The practical utility of “handling” him was obvious.

‘Who knows what Pahren is planning, but without the Young Patriarch, Decullan would slide into absolute turmoil.’

Despite his lack of maturity, Sallie’s mere existence served as a counterweight.

Meaning, no random nobodies would be lurking around, coveting the patriarch’s throne.

But what if Sallie vanished?

The position of leadership within the Decullan house would become a battleground where regular trash would fight over the mantle. The moment they installed one of their own there, that person would become the next ruler of Decullan. It would be a devastating blow to the current state of affairs. Instead of combining strengths for the postwar cleanup, they would be tearing each other apart.

Therefore, through cold calculation, dealing with Sallie seemed like the correct path.

Yes, and yet…

“Tch.”

Early dawn.

I watched Sallie complete his laps around the training grounds, then averted my gaze as my reflections grew needlessly convoluted.

I had no specific destination in mind.

I simply required a distraction to clear my head.

As I drifted across the academy grounds beneath the morning dew, a chaotic swarm of thoughts welled up.

“From a purely analytical standpoint, it is the wisest move.”

Yet I couldn’t bring myself to commit to it.

‘Why?’

A straightforward reason.

Just as Damian had transformed, and Eveline as well, my time at the academy had reshaped me.

That was the reason I kept tracking Sallie.

‘Clinging to any justification, no matter how flimsy, might soothe my guilty conscience.’

I quietly acknowledged my own cowardice while turning the dilemma over in my mind.

Truthfully, searching for a rationale to handle Sallie was merely an attempt to find an excuse to deceive myself.

A piece of me was also inquisitive.

What had transpired to break this fragile youth—one who didn’t even resemble a Decullan—so utterly? He was as thick as a rock, yet his sheer simplicity allowed him to strike right at the heart of the matter. He likely would have had an answer, even in a predicament like this.

‘What should I do?’ Lost in contemplation, I wandered aimlessly through the school grounds.

Eventually, I ground to a halt at a specific spot, right outside the director’s hideout.

Creak.

There was plenty of time left before breakfast, so I figured I might as well make use of it. A voice greeted me.

“What brings you here?”

“What are you up to?”

The director knitted his brows as if encountering an unwelcome sight. Soon after, he stood up.

“Was it you?”

“What?”

“I’ve been wondering why our provisions keep vanishing one by one. Were you the thief?”

What on earth?

I hadn’t even set foot in this place recently.

Wait, don’t tell me… Bellos?

“If you are harboring deceitful thoughts, I suggest you keep them to yourself.”

“…Ah, right, sir.”

Talk about prejudice. It truly stings the heart.

While attempting to soothe my bruised feelings, I collapsed onto the couch. The director’s voice echoed in my ears.

“Jokes aside, what brings you here at such an early hour? You look like a drowned rat.”

“I just… had a few matters on my mind.”

“Matters?”

“Yes. What is life, when you really think about it? I suppose it’s like an egg. A hard-boiled egg. Just a bit of wordplay, you know?”

“I’ve considered it over a hundred times, but it’s a blessing you’re a combatant. Otherwise, people would have stoned you to death in the streets for that appalling tongue of yours.”

What high praise! He seems intensely serious right now, but tonight in bed, he will recall this and chuckle to himself. ‘Haha, that fellow. Life is a hard-boiled egg. How amusing!’ and he’ll burst out laughing.

“You are far too kind.”

“You generate the trouble, and I’m the bonehead who deals with it.”

“Fair point.”

It was true; if I took care of Sallie within the academy, the director would bear the brunt of the blame. In that regard, he wasn’t exactly an innocent bystander.

At any rate, looking for advice on this conundrum…

“Do you care to listen?”

“Spit it out already.”

“Well… it concerns Sallie.”

“…Sallie?”

At my remark, the director’s brows furrowed slightly. The name alone signaled that my anxiety was tied to Decullan.

He was well aware of the black and white slums incident, so he knew this wasn’t some trivial matter.

I posed the question directly to him.

“Pragmatism versus conscience. That is the dilemma.”

“…A challenging one.”

Without me uttering another syllable, he narrowed his eyes, seeing right through the issue.

A moment drifted by.

“This is going to take a while.”

“That works for me. Let’s mull it over a bit longer.”

It wasn’t a problem someone else could easily untangle anyway.

I prepared to take my leave, but the director shook his head vigorously, cutting me off.

“Junior.”

“Yes?”

His tone turned profoundly serious now, a sharp departure from his previous demeanor. I couldn’t help but fix my gaze on him. Removing his spectacles, he set them aside and locked his eyes onto mine.

“A certain… grave mistake. Whatever choice you make, I would like you to hear a story first… yes, the tale of a mage.”

The director offered a bitter smile.

That expression revealed everything about exactly who this “mage who committed a catastrophic情 blunder” was.

“Those were days of sheer chaos.”

It was the lesson of an old war mage.