How to Survive at the Academy
chapter-203

Meaning Bestowed (6)

The monastery corridors are silent at night. After such an unfortunate event, no one unnecessarily wanders the halls after dark. The nuns rise early, so by this hour most are preparing for bed, and those external individuals aware of Abbott Austin’s worrisome circumstance prefer staying in their rooms to avoid suspicion. Thanks to this, bishop Merlin and I could traverse the monastery’s corridors unseen by any watchful eyes.

“In the basement of the Cledric Monastery… there’s a ‘Chamber of Repentance’…”

The jingling of keys was heard.

The large bunch of keys hanging from the bishop’s waist appeared almost threatening in number, suggesting he carried the keys to every room within the monastery. We passed along the desolate hallway and descended the stairs at the end.

“And among the nuns, there are lambs who periodically visit the Chamber of Repentance to confess their sins. As they’ve committed significant sins in the past, they spend their time on full moon nights in the chamber, ruminating over their misdeeds.”

“Is that so…”

“However, that is only the superficial reason.”

After descending further, passing a colossal hall on the first floor and being drawn deep into the corridors beyond, we went through a dining hall, a communal kitchen, a storeroom, a prayer room, and finally, a small garden before crossing a vegetable garden towards an annex. Even deeper within the confines of the annex lies a staircase that leads underground at the end of the corridor.

Next to the stairs was a sign labeled ‘Chamber of Repentance.’

The chamber seemed too secluded, even for a place of penitence.

Following the stairs down, indeed… a space resembling an underground dungeon, built with bricks, was revealed. Bishop Merlin inserted a key into the cell door and entered, revealing a long corridor flanked by solitary enclosures.

Each cell separated by iron bars housed only simple religious texts, prayer items, and tiny windows that allowed moonlight to flow in. It is here that one reflects upon their past sins and seeks forgiveness through prayer.

The extent of their sins must be substantial for them to confine themselves to this desolate monastery, and even more so, in a secluded chamber of repentance. Despite the complexity of many nuns’ backgrounds, such acts are rare.

Dust accumulated in every crevice, and rust on the bars suggested long periods without use, painting the chamber as a mere formality.

“We must… go further inside…”

Merlin led me down the long corridor of the chamber.

At the end of the hallway, there was a turn, and we passed a simple shelf of tools and scriptures. It seemed like the end of the space, but Merlin reached on his tiptoes and pulled out a bible from the top. Placing his hand in the vacant shelf space, he fiddled with something with grunts of effort.

– Click-clack

A lever-like sound echoed, and the shelf smoothly slid aside to reveal a large wooden door.

Silent, I swallowed my bewilderment as Merlin lowered his gaze.

Rather than explain further, it seemed better to witness it firsthand, so he inserted another key into the wooden door.

– Creak

As the secret door opened, the sight inside became clear.

Indeed, the sight forced onlookers to swallow dryly.

– Grrrrr, huff, huff.

– Kaaang! Kaaang!

– Grrroooogh, grrrrr, huff.

The sounds of beasts catching their breath.

Opening the wooden door, the sounds pouring out made me feel as if I were standing amidst a cage of animals.

Yet, the entities inside the cells with the same structure as before… bore neither the complete likeness of beasts nor humans.

Merlin, eyes tightly shut, accepted the situation with a resigned expression as we walked the inner corridor together.

I took in the cells lining each side and couldn’t help but swallow dryly.

Beasts in human cells, baring reddish eyes and banging on their bars, ready to sink their teeth into us.

These human-shaped creatures revealed beastly ears and tails, drooling excessively, all outfitted in nunnery garb.

The Ain race.

Once they turned the northern plains upside down and were on the verge of assassinating Emperor Clorel, members of a heretical group.

They were the defeated of one of the biggest wars that the Clorel Empire historically suffered, the Ain Extermination War. Erased from history by the Empire’s mandate.

*

“Zellan the Severer.”

A name belonging to a war hero who, alongside Guardian Obel, saved the Imperial family from the Ain.

The three mages known for assisting Guardian Obel during the Ain Extermination War are well-known: Researcher Glast, outlaw Krayd, and Severer Zellan.

Researcher Glast has passed away, outlaw Krayd holds a professorship in Sylvania, but the whereabouts of Severer Zellan remain unclear, though he has been mentioned recently by Austin.

– ‘Well, you must have heard the name of the war hero ‘Zellan’? He used to make donations here at the monastery. If we go further back in time… Even the former Archmage Gluckt also did.’

A conversation from when I was assigned a room.

Perhaps, Austin, the abbess, was indeed a living history book herself.

She seemed to have regularly maintained contact with Zellan after the war ended, with him visiting the monastery.

And presumably, the reason was…

“After the Ain Extermination War ended, the person who brought thirteen Ain children to Abbess Austin was none other than the war hero Severer Zellan.”

– Kaang! Kang! Kang!

– Rrrrrrr! Grrr! Grrr! Grrr!

Beastly noises, not human. Banging their bars as if ready to sink their teeth into us at any moment.

Among them, I could see the red-haired girl who helped carry my luggage the day I arrived at the monastery.

Her outer appearance, once demure, is now entirely forsaken in a frenzied state; beastly ears poke through her disheveled veil.

Such was made possible by their native nunnery garments, easily concealing those beastly ears.

Merely manage their living spaces properly amongst Ain children, and surprisingly they can continue their devotional life almost unnoticed.

Above all, cledric Monastery is a wholly separated world atop the ocean. Its annex, especially, can minimize contact with the external world.

“Yet, Austin never compromised.”

“…”

“These children overcome the curse of their blood and strive to integrate into human society.”

If the Imperial Court knew of these matters…

“They would not remain idle. It would directly threaten the very existence of Cledric Monastery.”

Gazing at one of the cells, I saw a red-haired girl with her hair neatly braided. She was the girl who came to help me with my luggage near the coast. Her usual full-cover nun garb is completely disarrayed.

The decorous front had vanished; beastly ears peeked through the fallen veil.

Indeed, it was the sanctuary of these garments that had so easily concealed those beastly ears before.

As long as the living spaces of the Ain children are separated wisely, it seemed plausible they could continue their devout existence without surfacing in plain sight.

Besides, the Cledric Monastery is itself an isolated microcosm atop the sea. Among its confines is the annex, further minimizing interaction with the wider world.

“But even so, Abbess Austin remained unyielding.”

“…”

“These children, cursing their own blood, survive and hope to adapt, to once again mingle among human society.”

Efforts to blend in surpassed those of anyone else. And… the children are unrelated to the blood and war built by our ancestors.

Merlin bit her lip in pain as she spoke.

“It’s always true, no matter where you are… the children are innocent.”

Wars are not waged by the hands of a child. They are merely the victims of war.

Knowing this, the abbot of Austin took them in, even if it meant evading the empire’s watchful eyes.

‘These are the daughters of my heart.’

This single whisper revealed the significance that had threaded through the life of the Austin abbot.

“And… there’s been a rumor about a ‘ghost’ roaming the monastery these past few days. The truth behind it differs greatly from what you, Lord Ed, might think.”

“What do you mean?”

Merlin led me further down the corridor, to one of the twenty or so cells. One had a broken window bar.

I couldn’t help but swallow hard at the sight.

“A few nights ago, Aileen from the Ain tribe escaped.”

She was a girl with flowing blonde hair and strikingly mystical blue eyes. Sometimes when visiting the sewing room, she’d look down with blushing cheeks.

The rumor of a ‘ghost’ wandering the monastery.

I had been certain it was Lucy Mayrill hiding within the grounds…

“The abbot of Austin… he ventured in the corridors in the middle of the night to find Aileen.”

‘To catch a ghost.’

The last words left by the abbot carried a meaning far different from what others had thought.

“Aileen is among the few Ain who can remain rational even during a full moon. Close to humans, she could control herself, but when the full moon approached… like the other children, she couldn’t maintain her sanity.”

“So, what you’re saying is that…”

“As Saint Clarice mentioned in the recent meeting, within the Telos Order, no one harbors enough malice to assassinate the abbot of Austin.”

Merlin was in the know from the start, aware of all these possibilities.

“Especially here in the Cledric Monastery, the abbot of Austin is revered by all as a benefactor. If the abbot was murdered within the monastery… The cause is…”

If we rule out murder driven by personal vengeance, the only remaining possibility is the ambush of a beast intoxicated by blood.

Ironically, at this very moment, a girl who’s fighting the blood of beasts while avoiding human eyes is roaming the rooftops of Cledric Monastery.

When the circumstances align so neatly… They in themselves become credible evidence.

“However, the abbot of Austin was found in his room, killed by a stab wound. The room was in impeccable order. Too clean for the act of a beast that has lost its reason, isn’t it?”

“That’s…”

“And the idea of an Ain intoxicated by the full moon wandering the monastery for days without anyone noticing… it’s unlikely.”

I stopped, my words trailing off as a new possibility emerged and the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

*The morning after the meeting.

The royal contact only arrived at Cledric Monastery in the late afternoon, and considering the tide, it wouldn’t be until close to midnight that the investigation team could enter the monastery. This meant another day of stifling times spent on guard by the distinguished guests.

Yet, the conclusion of the incident was already evident.

The external meeting, reconvened by Saint Clarice’s decree, seemed unlikely to continue for long.

“Everyone was confined to their rooms last night, as far as we know. After checking the personnel, it appears that none of the outsiders suffered any significant harm. All seems back to normal since Lucy Mayrill’s confinement.”

Princess Persica, presiding over the meeting from the altar, reassured the assembled nobles.

“Tonight, the investigative team will come and tie up all loose ends. We’ll turn over Lucy Mayrill to them and after submitting our simple testimonies, we can all return to our domains.”

Auxiliary Bishop Merlin sat at the back with an anxious countenance, while Saint Clarice glared at Persica, her face full of dissatisfaction.

However, Clarice held back from speaking recklessly. Not because she lacked the authority to challenge Persica, but because she seemed unwilling to prematurely act and potentially cause an unforeseen outcome.

It looked as though she had something to rely on.

“Lucy Mayrill is locked away in the easily monitored attic at the top of the spire. There are only limited routes down, so it won’t be easy for her to escape unseen.”

Lucy Mayrill could easily escape from that attic if she so wished.

Yet, Lucy remains confined in the attic of the spire without any inclination to leave.

“Are there any questions or complaints?”

With that, Princess Persica seemed to finalize the situation, seeking the crowd’s opinion. There was no response. Persica’s face was triumphant, perhaps as she had expected. The crowd was silent, unlike the noisy congregation of yesterday.

With everything apparently resolved without harm, silence was an adequate response.

The sacrificial offering seemingly decided in the case of Lucy Mayrill, to protest would be to incur loss.

Seated at the back and leaning against the prayer bench, I was given a questioning look from Saint Clarice.

She seemed to ask if I was content with the situation ending just so. I closed my eyes tightly and shook my head from side to side.

“Then, let us consider this unfortunate incident at the Cledric Monastery concluded.”

And so, a conclusion was reached.

It was the end of the affair.

*Silence filled the chapel where the meeting had ended.

Under the escort of Knight Tune, Princess Persica, who had been sitting in the front row of the prayer benches, ran a hand across her face.

“We’ve finally managed to conclude the matter.”

“You’ve had a tough time, Princess Persica.”

“It was arduous with many unexpected turns. Let’s wrap up the remaining tasks and return to the royal palace.”

Princess Persica spoke as if sighing, in a deflated tone.

“After coming this far… it’s such a void. There’s no fruit to bear, a hollow outcome…”

Her gaze drifted to the stained glass of the chapel, its majestic size beautifully tinted, depicting an angel.

Princess Persica does not believe in God. She has no faith.

Her presence in the monastery for prayers was merely an extension of a political decision.

Yet, it was a matter of sentiment. Since she had come to this sacred place, one prayer to God would not be amiss.

With that in mind, Princess Persica momentarily clasped her hands.

-Clang!

The sound of someone rising, pushing back a chair.

No guests remained in the chapel post-meeting. There was no reason for outsiders to be there once the monastery’s daily schedule had begun.

However, someone was conspicuously sprawled in the very last row, relaxed to the point of rudeness. Perhaps he had been waiting for all the guests to leave.

He stood up, stretched out his tired body, and walked along the red carpet leading to the central podium.

Turning to look at him in disbelief, it was a familiar face.

Blond hair half raised and a distinguished appearance made him stand out.

Ed Rothtaylor.

It was the very boy whose reality belied the rumors.

He had yet to have a private audience owing to the sudden changes, but now he had come himself.

“I hope I didn’t disturb your prayers. My apologies.”

Ed Rothtaylor took a seat in the prayer bench opposite Princess Persica and began to pray with clasped hands.

As Princess Persica pondered what to say, Ed Rothtaylor promptly spoke, eyes shut.

“To be honest, while I prudently offer my prayers, I do not believe in such a thing as God.”

Just like Persica, Ed Rothtaylor had no reverence for faith.

His life revolved around dealing with reality and survival, not theorizing about a mighty unseen existence. He had no room in his heart to accommodate blind faith.

Thus, his prayers here were merely for formality’s sake.

“Even if there’s someone above these skies that created the world, such feeble prayers of mine are unlikely to reach Him.”

“It’s amusing to hear such words in the heart of the Telos sacred lands. Ed Rothtaylor. I’ve heard much about you, but you’re even more interesting than anticipated.”

“The truth is, it’s nothing but obvious. I don’t think there exists an omniscient being who understands every event and truth in this world. Not my prayers, nor the truth behind the abbot of Austin’s death… unless one is standing right beside it.”

The case was unsettling. The atmosphere within the monastery felt tense.

It was time to resolve everything.

“Yet… at least you, Princess Persica, should know, shouldn’t you?”

“Are you referring to me? What should I know?”

I did not lower my joined hands for prayer, and casually continued speaking.

“That the cause of the abbot of Austin’s death was suicide.”

Knight Tune jerked in surprise.

Always quiet and dutiful, such a reaction was uncharacteristic for her.