Panto did not consider himself as a foolish boy.
Indeed, he was timid and too careful to the point of being a coward. Still, the timid people survived longer than the brave ones and the careful people noticed some things that the others ignored.
His father had taught him how to count the profit margins or negotiate the prices.
For him, the confidence did not come from the courage. It came from being the right one, but today, the event had shaken the confidence.
He had always believed that the cult had brushed past him by accident. After all, he did not have any knowledge regarding them.
Thinking it thoroughly, it might be a consequence of his family's business entanglements or a shadow that was casted by other people's ambitions.
He had thought himself as a secondary target. He might be accidentally became a disposable thread for someone to react.
Baston knew something about the cult and that alone had already unsettled him. However, regarding Alicia who was also involved, that had changed everything.
A noble lineage did not waste her attention on petty criminal organizations. She would not soil her hands with the rumors or the half-formed threats.
If she acknowledged the cult's existence, then it meant the matter had already reached a level where the national stability could be questioned.
That meant he was no longer standing near the danger because he was standing inside its shadow.
As he walked back toward his dormitory, his steps slowed down without him noticing.
The students passed him in clusters. They were laughing, arguing, and complaining about the lessons, the food, and the instructors that they secretly admired. Their voices blurred into a distant hum.
He felt detached from them like a man who was watching a market from behind the glass.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend…"
The saying surfaced uninvited and he almost laughed at how neatly it applied to his situation.
Both of Baston and Alicia were dangerous in their own way. Both of them were aligned against something larger.
He should have been relieved, but instead, his unease deepened because if the cult truly was his enemy, then why had it chosen him?
Baston's explanation soon replayed in his mind.
Perhaps, it was a grudge. Someone had reached through the cult to hurt him.
It sounded plausible on the surface but the longer he examined it, the less sense it made. If someone wanted him to be gone, there were far easier methods. With just few assassins, it would be enough.
The accidents could be arranged, the deals could be sabotaged, and the lives of people could be expended accidentally. There was no need for the rituals, secrecy, or magic that was whispered in the dark. This assumption left only one explanation.
The source of the grudge was indeed his family.
The world of the merchants was polite on the surface but it was merciless underneath.
The contracts were signed with smiles and broken with the knives. The competition did not end when one side lost. It ended when the loser could no longer stand up.
If his father had stepped on someone important enough, then he was simply a leverage. He was a replaceable piece, able to be used as a warning. His hand clenched unconsciously.
"Too bad I can't go home right now," he muttered under his breath, "If I could just talk to my father…"
However, returning home might be exactly what his enemies wanted. That thought chilled him, so at least for now, he needed to brace for the impact.
Baston's presence was oddly reassuring since the boy hid himself well.
He had always assumed Baston's passivity came from the weakness. Now, he knew better of the fat boy. There was intent behind every lowered gaze and there was reason behind every silent retreat.
A blade did not need to be visible to be sharp.
As for Alicia, the matter was complicated. Just thinking of her family made his back straightened.
A noble's daughter was not someone he should even be standing beside, let alone relying on. The fact that he could stand beside her was already unnatural.
He didn't dare to boast about it, not even to himself.
If the others knew he had any connection to her beyond a passing greeting, the people would tear him apart with the rumors alone.
An acquaintance was enough since anything more than that would be dangerous. Still, he felt safer knowing that she belonged in the same side.
"I'm glad I took the initiative with Baston," he murmured as he reached the door, "Looks like one dish won't be enough anymore."
His thoughts drifted toward the numbers of the food. After all, the money had been his anchor since the childhood.
When the emotions threatened to overwhelm him, he returned to what could be counted. Ordering one main dish, one appetizer, and one dessert should be fine for now. The cost might be substantial but it could be called as an investment.
He didn't care about money. He only needed the security and the safety in the surrounding.
*****
While Panto hid behind his calculations, Alicia sat alone in her private dining room.
The sunlight was filtering through the carefully arranged curtains.
She ate slowly and her posture was flawless with her serene expression. Any observer would see only a noble girl that was enjoying a quiet meal. None would suspect the layers of thought which was moving beneath her calm face.
Once again, Baston's words echoed in her mind.
"Don't just stand there… People are watching…"
At the time, she had taken it as the concern. Perhaps, it was also a suggestion that was wrapped as a warning. Now, she understood for what it truly was.
It was an instruction for her alone. She had followed it without questioning much and that alone bothered her.
She was not accustomed to obey people that her intuition labeled as insignificant.
To know everyone better, she started collecting some information.
Her investigation into Panto had been enlightening.
The boy was just a merchant's son. His aptitude was average and his temperament was timid. There was nothing remarkable until she reached the addendum.
Further information documented the instances of minor bullying toward Baston.
Alicia had paused there but she then smiled because it was absurd.
On the surface, it was completely illogical. A noble-trained mind rejected it instinctively until she considered it properly. Such relationship as enemies made the best camouflage.
Two boys positioned themselves on the opposite ends of the academy's invisible hierarchy. One was openly weak and one was quietly opportunistic. No one would ever imagine the cooperation between them because some people would assume the resentment and not the alliance.
If this truly was a fabricated dynamic, then she could already predict the rest.
"They were very clever…" Alicia murmured, lifting her teacup.
It was indeed too clever for a coincidence.
This thing meant that Baston was not merely hiding his strength. He was hiding his motives and such motive must be related toward the cult. That realization lingered longer than she expected.
Alicia set her teacup down slowly. Her eyes were unfocused for a moment as she replayed their brief interactions.
Baston's posture toward her face and his restraint toward her attitude. The way he never pushed for the information and never asked the questions he had no right to ask.
Even his warning earlier had been carefully phrased, vague enough to deny the intent yet it was precise enough to guide her away from the danger.
It was not the behavior of a reckless opportunist nor was it the behavior of a frightened boy.
In Alicia's experience, the truly dangerous individuals rarely advertised themselves.
They observed and they waited. They allowed the others to underestimate them while quietly arranging the board. Baston fit that image disturbingly well.
Baston was not hiding because he was weak. He was hiding because he could not afford to be seen. Someone like him, burdened with the knowledge he should not possess, would naturally choose the obscurity over the recognition.
The academy with its rigid hierarchy and its shallow judgments was the perfect place to disappear in plain sight. As the cult took caution over him, he also was aware of their existence.
If Baston truly knew as much as he implied, then he had either survived an encounter with them or slipped through their fingers unnoticed.
"No wonder he keeps his distance…" she thought.
That restraint now appeared deliberate rather than passive. Even his cooperation with Panto which was an arrangement that looked absurd on the surface, felt intentional.
The merchant boy was a shield since he was just a misdirection. Alicia felt a faint and unfamiliar sense of reassurance.
If someone like Baston was already moving against the cult in his own quiet way, then perhaps, she was not alone in this web after all.
Perhaps, she had found an ally who understood the cost of visibility far better than most nobles ever did.
Her trust in him strangely deepened, not because she knew him well, but because she believed that she understood him. Such belief was unexplainable that she herself hardly believed.
The reports continued and more information was revealed.
The fat boy was dull and predictable. Baston remained invisible and Panto remained mildly unpleasant. Their patterns were consistent, boring, and exactly as they should be. It was such a perfect camouflage.
However, Alicia knew better than to trust such perfection.
She lacked information about the cult. She lacked any knowledge of what kind of entity named as the cult.
All she knew at the moment was Baston aligned with her goals. But when the goals changed, people also changed. She wondered how long such absurd relationship would last.
"Well…" she thought lightly, "That just makes things interesting…"
For now, she would play her role. She could act as an informant, an ally, or a concerned noble.
With enough truth, it would sustain the trust and with enough distance, it would be able to protect herself.
"He won't suspect me, won't he…?" she decided.
As for the boys who had struck Baston's table earlier, her gaze hardened briefly.
They had been careless and they had been disrespectful. Such loose ends were dangerous in the situations like this.
A quiet lesson could be arranged. It would be nothing dramatic but it was just enough pressure to remind them where they had to behave.
After all, the power was the most effective when applied subtly.
*****
Baston lay sprawled across his bed with his hands resting on his stomach. Today, he had eaten too much.
The meals were two full plates with quite rich in variation. It was the kind that he usually avoided because his thin wallet couldn't afford it.
But today, the satisfaction outweighed the restraint and he let out a small contented sigh.
Who would have thought the yesterday's wasted meal would come back to him twice over?
When the drowsiness threatened to pull him under, he reached for the old book.
Its surface was still cool and familiar like an artifact that was pretending to be mundane.
He flipped through its limited interface, scanning the academy notices and the news. It was nothing of interest for him. Out of habit, his thumb drifted to the last page.
He stopped since his breath was caught by the surprise. The page glowed faintly, and inside, the second quest he deemed to be impossible had already been completed.
It was perfect. Such evaluation on his performance made him baffled.
"What?"
He blinked, rubbing his eyes before he read it again. The result was still there and his performance was indeed perfect.
"I didn't even do anything," he whispered.
The book did not respond while his confusion deepened.
The quest's requirement had been vague to make one girl became interested in himself.
He had assumed it would take time. He needed much effort and he needed to calculate the risk. He had barely interacted with Alicia today.
His thoughts began stalled toward the complication he made. Such interest did not require the affection. The curiosity was already enough. When he found out about this, he groaned softly.
He had underestimated her mind since talking about the cult had been enough to hook her attention.
The old book did not care about the intent but only the result. The reward soon manifested before he could dwell further.
It was a small object that settled into his palm.
"A puppet?"
The information quickly surged into his mind. Its abilities were unfolded instantly including the transformation, the limitation, and the duration. It was an important tool rather than a weapon.
The puppet was kind of mysterious. It was quite subtle and perfect. He pondered for a while before he tested it cautiously.
The puppet slowly reshaped itself. The flesh and the form were flowing unnaturally until a familiar figure stood before him. It was Alicia.
The puppet really looked like the noble girl. He swallowed and lifted its arm. The stiffness was obvious.
When he ordered it to speak, the voice came out wrong. It was quite mechanical and fragmented. He winced since it didn't look good.
"I have to train myself…"
He dispelled his thought on the puppet at once. Using this as a substitute for human connection was repulsive.
If the real Alicia ever discovered this, the consequences would be catastrophic. However, it was quite useful as a tool. Now, he only needed to experiment further.
The puppet then transformed into a bird, a rat, and something else. It could be bigger and it could also be smaller.
When it flew beyond the academy's perimeter, the connection weakened immediately. He summoned it back in a panic with racing heart.
His control required practice. He must train his precision and mastery.
Since he had already acquired the tool, he must study by himself. Toward this kind of reward, even though it was kind of bizarre and creepy, he still had to learn about it.
*****
In the meantime, in a quiet maintenance chamber, the academy staff examined the cracked instrument.
They found nothing wrong and the records showed fine consistency. The tool should display the exact and measured number.
However, Miss Pashan said herself that something was wrong with it.
"It might be a defect after all…" the man concluded, convincing himself with other's opinion, "Just need replacement in the end…"
The old device was then removed and its data was erased. And with it, the last visible trace of Baston's abnormality vanished from the academy's awareness.