Tomorrow morning arrived too quietly. For Baston, that silence felt heavier than any insult thrown at him in the academy corridors. He woke before dawn, long before the first bell and long before the noble district
stirred with perfumed servants and polished boots. The underground dormitory remained damp and dim. The faint glow of the magic lamp trembled against the stone walls like a nervous witness. Baston sat upright on his narrow bed with the old book rested across his knees.
Today was not a test. It was not a duel nor confrontation. It was an evaluation. And this evaluation were more dangerous than battles. The battles ended but the result of evaluations lingered. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. The decision he had made the night before remained unchanged.
The real Baston would not walk into the noble district today. Instead, the puppet would.
After finishing breakfast at the usual restaurant, a modest place far from noble eyes, Baston rose and adjusted his robe. Inside it, the old book was hidden carefully against the lining. After switching out himself
with the puppet, he then readied himself. The transformed puppet walked out first while the real him folded inward. The shift was seamless.
His consciousness slid into the old book like ink seeping into paper, leaving the puppet animated and upright, fat-cheeked and
expressionless, and trudging forward exactly as expected. There was no mana fluctuation. No magical ripple and no disturbance in the air.
Even if the greatest wizard in the academy scanned him from head to toe, there would be nothing to detect. That was the beauty of it. It was not magic. It was something else.
*****
The noble district rose ahead in elegant silence. White stone paths, sculpted hedges, and buildings polished to mirror sheen. Even the air smelled different here which was lighter, perfumed, and curated. Technically,
Baston did not have the right to enter. Practically, permission had already been granted. The academy administration had already known and Angus had already arranged it which meant today's meeting was not casual. It was deliberate.
As the puppet stepped past the threshold, eyes began to gather. Noble students slowed their conversations. A few stopped entirely with whispers followed soon.
"Why is he here?"
"Isn't he from the underground dormitory?"
"I asked the staff earlier. Apparently, this was specially requested."
"By who?"
"Alicia… Maybe?"
The name traveled like a ripple across still water. Then, came the bitterness.
"A fat poor boy like him has no right to court Alicia."
"Let's see if he dares to walk through here."
They moved before the puppet could reach the central courtyard. Only four boys came forward but then, it became six. More people
soon gathered, looking at the stranger in their land. They positioned themselves casually like a natural obstacle. Their polished shoes were blocking the path with arms folded and sharpened expressions. The puppet did not slow down anyway.
"Stop!" the word was sharp.
"This area is for nobles. You don't belong here."
"Go back to where you belong."
"It would be better if you just dropped out and lived in the streets."
Their laughter followed. It wasn't loud and hysterical. It was controlled and cruel. The puppet continued walking. It didn't have no
reaction, no flinch and no hesitation. It passed between them like mist slipped
through fingers. For a heartbeat, none of the noble boys moved. They had expected resistance or at least shame. What they received was indifference. One boy's face twisted.
His dignity had been stepped on without acknowledgment. He lunged and his fist shot forward but stopped an inch from the puppet's cheek. He was frozen and suspended as if the air itself had hardened. Another tried to kick yet his leg halted mid-swing and suspended awkwardly. More joined in with hands, elbows, and hurried spells forming in palms. All were stopped. All were immobilized. The courtyard fell silent and the puppet did not even look back. It
simply continued forward before a voice cut through the air.
"Preposterous!"
The word struck like a blade. Every noble student stiffened. The building doors had opened and Angus stood there. He did not raise his hand and he did not cast a spell, yet the pressure radiated from him was bending the atmosphere.
"He is my guest…" Angus said calmly. "And you do not have the authority to bar his path."
The suspended students dropped. Their feet hit stone. Despite pain, no one dared to look up. Angus did not shout again. He did not
need to as the puppet entered the building. Behind it, dozens of noble students watched in pale silence. They now understood. Baston had not come because of Alicia. He had come because of Angus which was worse.
*****
Inside, the atmosphere changed. The hallway was simple but refined. Wooden panels carved with subtle sigils, decorative vases placed in precise symmetry, and even the silence here felt intentional. A staff member guided the puppet into a private chamber. Angus was already waiting. The room held only two chairs and a small table. There were no guards and no witnesses.
There was only a private space for both of them. Angus studied the puppet as it
entered. He did not smile nor react toward the man.
"Welcome, Student Baston…" the tone was polite and measured, "I apologize for calling you here so early. I have a few questions. You don't mind?"
Inside the old book, Baston exhaled slowly. If I mind, I might die. The puppet bowed slightly.
"Please, go ahead."
Angus leaned back, "I inspected the rear of the cafeteria. The explosion was significant. Even Alicia could not block it directly. I would
like to know what you used in that moment."
The first blade had been unsheathed.
"A certain magic item," the puppet replied evenly.
Angus' eyes narrowed faintly, "Such items are rare and expensive. Unless one is wealthy or noble, it is unlikely they could acquire such a thing."
A pause soon commenced before Angus continued. He focused his eyes on the little boy in front of him. It was quite terrifying to confront such pressure.
"Are you a noble?"
It was direct and simple remark, questioning Baston's origin. The puppet shook its head as the answer.
"No. I am only poor."
Angus observed the micro expressions yet there were none. It was like the answer was honest, making him more suspicious.
"Then how did you obtain such an item?"
"I took it from someone."
"From whom?"
"From one of many bad men I encountered."
Angus tapped the table lightly, "That is quite vague."
"Being poor…" the puppet continued, "Survival matters most. When thugs fight, the winner keeps what remains."
The explanation was plausible. Dark markets existed, nobles sponsored shadows, and artifacts changed hands quietly. Angus could not immediately refute it but something remained unsettled.
"I heard…" Angus continued slowly, "That you concealed your magic strength to investigate a criminal organization. Do you know their name?"
"No."
"Why pursue them?"
"They killed someone dear to me."
That answer hung heavier. It was personal matter, affecting emotional sense from his past. It was such clean and reasonable answer. Angus watched carefully for inconsistency of his expression yet, there were none. The puppet did not tremble, did not look away, and did not overact. It simply
existed. Then, Angus shifted the conversation.
"You and Alicia chased a man until going underground. Inside, there was a man wearing a clown's face. The one she described as Joker.'"
A faint silence loomed over the atmosphere. It took a few seconds before Angus continued.
"Do you believe he was connected to the explosion?"
Inside the book, Baston frowned. Why did he ask that? Alicia had reported everything. What was Angus searching for?
"I don't know," the puppet replied, "He might have been involved or he might also merely pass through."
Angus leaned forward slightly. His gaze was scrutinizing Baston.
"You faced him directly. Was he strong?"
"I think so."
"You think so?"
The word sharpened, indicating something was wrong. Angus was probing not for information but for reaction. The puppet remained still and Angus eventually leaned back again.
"I see…"
He asked a few more neutral questions before he dismissed him, "You may go."
The puppet bowed. The puppet left and soon, the door was closed.
*****
In the hallway restroom, Baston reversed the shift. Consciousness poured back into flesh. The puppet stood lifeless for half a second before reintegration completed. Baston leaned against the sink. His reflection stared
back. He was calm and unbothered. He pulled out the old book, turning to the last page. The ink shimmered and his evaluation was complete. His performance was poor. Such word burned him even though he had struggled hard.
"Poor?" he muttered, "Impossible…"
He had planned carefully. He had spoken cautiously and left no magical trace. What did he miss? Suspicion tightened in his chest. He needed to know immediately. He summoned his puppet from the old book. He reshaped it, softened the bones, and shrank the arms before forming feathers. Soon, a small bird emerged. A rat would have been more discreet but in the noble district, rats were killed without hesitation.
Birds were invisible. The transformation caused no mana ripple and signature. The bird then flew upward. It landed on a branch near Angus' window. It watched and listened.
*****
Inside the chamber, Angus stood by the window. Before long, Alicia entered quietly.
"What do you think, Uncle?"
Angus did not answer immediately. He stared at the courtyard below.
"At first glance…" he said slowly, "He appears harmless."
Alicia waited for next evaluation.
"But something is wrong…"
Her brows knit together, "Wrong?"
"Yes."
He turned toward her, "You described Joker as powerful that even your knights hesitated."
"They indeed did."
"And yet, Baston did not display fear."
Alicia paused, noticing where the suspicion came.
Angus' eyes sharpened, "He seemed calm. Too calm."
"When facing someone stronger, even seasoned wizard feel tension. Fear does not disappear. It is managed but it exists."
Alicia nodded slowly.
"But Baston… He lacked even the trace of anxiety."
Silence loomed the atmosphere between Alicia and Angus.
"There are two possibilities," Angus continued, "Either he knew Joker personally or…"
He let the second thought hang.
"Or?" Alicia pressed.
"Or, he did not consider Joker stronger than him."
Alicia inhaled sharply.
"That would mean…"
"I checked his mana personally," Angus said, "He is not significantly stronger than you."
"Then how?"
"That is the mystery."
Outside, perched in the tree, Baston listened. So that was it. He had not erred in logic and emotion. He had displayed nothing. And nothing, in front of something terrifying, was unnatural. Angus had not been searching for lies. He had been searching for instinct. And Baston had none. He had been too clean. He was too balanced and too perfect.
Inside the book, Baston felt a rare flicker of frustration. Angus was not judging facts. He was judging humanity. And the puppet did not possess humanity. It possessed obedience.
"That's troublesome…" Baston murmured faintly.
Angus continued speaking below.
"I do not believe he is ordinary," Angus said, "But I do not yet know in what way."
Alicia lowered her gaze, "I don't think he's malicious."
"I did not say he was," Angus replied calmly, "Mystery does not equal evil."
He returned to the window, "But I will observe him."
The bird remained still. It was unseen and unnoticed. Baston exhaled slowly. Angus was not hostile but he was watchful. This watchfulness would complicate everything. If future quests intersected with him, performance metrics could worsen. The old book did not reward safety. It rewarded alignment with unseen standards. And Angus' standards were unpredictable. Baston withdrew the bird. Let it dissolve as he walked away from the noble district alone. This time, no insults followed since no one dared. Yet, the air felt colder than before.
*****
Back underground, Baston sat on his bed once more. The old book lay open. He stared at the word again. His performance was poor. It was not about lies this time. It was about presence. He had avoided detection
perfectly but he had not embodied expectation. He had behaved like something
observing danger, not experiencing it. And Angus had sensed the difference.
"Next time…" Baston whispered softly, "I must bleed a little."
Not physically but emotionally. Just enough for people to spot his humanity. Mystery required balance. Too much fear invited suspicion and too little destroyed authenticity. He closed the old book gently. Today, he had not been exposed but it had taught him something far more valuable. Angus was not merely powerful. He was perceptive and perceptive opponent was the most dangerous kind.
For the first time since entering the academy, Baston understood something clearly. Strength could be measured, mana could be
detected, and artifacts could be traced. But regarding the absence of fear? That was something only a human could recognize. And today, he had failed to be a human.
The underground lamp flickered. The stone walls remained cold. Above ground, noble laughter resumed. And somewhere in the academy, a great wizard began watching a poor boy more carefully than before. The game had shifted quietly. Baston would need to adjust. Because once someone noticed the mystery of his expression, he would never returned to silence.