I was in Seclusion for so long that everyone forgot about me

According to my peerless navigation skills, I was somewhat close to the mensa hall.

According to the countless students in the same direction as me, I was very much not.

They looked scared shitless—like death herself was right behind them. So scared, in fact, that they didn’t even notice me. As if I were just some cuddly kitten compared to whatever was chasing them.

‘Whatever you did, Asche, you’ve got my respect for that,’ I said, genuinely impressed.

No response.

My brows drew together. She always had a comeback. Always.

Well, fine. Still curious, I snapped one of the students out of the crowd by the collar.

“You, boy. What happened?”

“Th-the wo—wolf—elemental went crazy! She put up a wind barrier around herself and the Wh-white Knights and started attacking them! Shit, I think she killed the daughter of the Archduke!”

“Wind barrier? And who the fuck are the White Knights?”

“Y-you don’t know the White Knights? They’re that infamous student society run by the headmaster's eldest daughter. They hate anything inhuman. Or lowborn. Or both.”

“…Really? A racist student society called White Knights? Why am I not surprised,” I muttered. Then, “And why are you all still running when she’s not even targeting you?”

“A-are you kidding me?” he asked, wide-eyed. “She’s a high wind elemental! That’s basically fae royalty. Everyone knows how batshit crazy they get when they’re pissed! Wait—aren’t you the Jaeger Matriarch? No wonder you crushed those champions. You’ve got her.”

My eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean no disrespect, Matriarch, but… your partner could wipe the floor with you.”

I threw him against the wall. Not gently. A few students glanced over, puzzled, but they kept scurrying away.

It wasn’t about anger. It was about someone thinking they could touch what was under my protection. That was enough.

Not that my ego was bruised. I was just… increasingly annoyed by how, the longer I stayed in this city, the more I apparently looked like the reasonable option.

Also—how the fuck did Asche become a high elemental anyways?

I hadn’t done that. All I’d done was… ah. No.

I rubbed my temples, realizing exactly what might have happened. That nurturing runic circle in the Grey Dryad’s territory. My blood. That heirloom—goddess, it had wind crystals embedded in it. There had to be some correlation with the System I hadn’t noticed at the time.

Was that why Asche was changing? Was she evolving passively through external System influence?

That was… extremely interesting.

If that were true, then Asche was already part of the System—enough for it to shape her being without my awareness. But how?

I hadn’t noticed any threads. I di—

Wait.

Back then I could see everything so clearly. But now that I thought about it, I’d been noticing less and less of it over time. Without realizing.

Was that how the divine were doing it? Hiding the System slowly behind a veil?

Still walking, I activated my soul vision to check—and sure enough, unless I really concentrated, I couldn’t see the threads anymore on me. The same ones I’d been trying to incorporate into my body and connection.

I froze for a moment. I didn’t like what that meant. Not one bit.

But then I smiled.

“So… you’re working on my body without touching my soul. So I wouldn’t notice. Clever. Very clever,” I muttered.

It was as if the System was self-aware. As if it had been preparing a trap—quietly, carefully, waiting to snap shut at just the right time.

But because of the seals—because of my medicine, which directly influenced my body—its grip on me was weaker than on Asche.

I’d need to look at her more closely. Even with her soul bound to mine, I couldn’t feel any direct influence on her. Not yet.

It really had outdone itself. And I was going to find out exactly how.

Eventually, I found a guard who gui—guarded me where I had to go. He was wary of me, but said nothing—just scanned me carefully. 

Gee. At least someone in this place still found me scary.

Surprisingly, we weren’t even headed in the direction I’d expected. I checked my connection with Aska—she was still somewhere near the mensa, just above us. So after what felt like a forced nordic walking tour through half the building, we arrived in front of a heavy wooden door where a small crowd of professors had already gathered, arguing.

When they noticed my arrival, their expressions shifted to contempt.

“Oh look who finally decided to show up after her familiar made such a mess,” spat a short-haired male professor.

With a flick of my finger, he shot upward—slammed into the ceiling with a sickening crunch. The stone cracked. He didn’t move. Just hung there, half-buried. Then the blood started to drip. Slow. Steady. Rhythmic.

What a wonderful entrance~

The guard jumped instantly back, drawing his weapon, but I ignored him. He’d done his job and led me here—not that I’d needed the help.

“Are you insane?!” barked another professor, her face twisted in anger.

“Me? I was told I’m the approachable kind of Matriarch. Let’s not change that, shall we?” I pointed upward. “You don’t want to end up like your colleague.”

She grit her teeth but said nothing. Another professor stepped in front of me, clearly not convinced I could actually hurt them.

Before anything else could happen, the door opened—and out stepped a tall, elegant blonde woman with enough magical presence to silence the hallway.

“Stop this, Marloch. You have no chance against her,” she said, flatly. “Why are you all still here anyway? Ulrich told you to return to your classrooms.”

“Of course it’s you, Irmgarde,” Marloch sneered. “Defending deviants again.”

Irmgarde laughed. “You’ll never stop being an asshole, will you?”

Then she casually punched him in the gut and followed it with a kick that sent him flying across the hallway.

Turning to the others, her voice dropped cold. “Back to your students. Now.”

“And you, guard—get the idiot out of the ceiling.”

Then she cleared her throat and turned to me, all polite diplomacy again.

“Welcome, Matriarch. I apologize for these fools. Some of the faculty still haven’t outgrown their arrogance. Their faction… leans old-fashioned.”

I waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I was looking forward to meeting the gorgeous mage responsible for those impressive barriers.”

Her smile shifted into something teasing, brows wiggling slightly. “You don’t look bad yourself, if I may say so~”

“A-hem,” came a voice from inside the office.

Irmgarde rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, we’re coming.”

She turned to me again, a little more formal now. “I’m sorry, Madam Asche—if I may call you that. But it seems Lord Ulrich is quite eager to speak about what happened in the mensa. We’ll have to continue our chat later.”

“With pleasure,” I grinned and followed her inside. The door closed behind us with a gentle pulse of magic.

The room was what you'd expect from an old sage’s office—shelves stacked high with books, rolled scrolls, magical objects, globes, and an unholy mess of documents. It didn’t look like he ever cleaned in here.

Unlike the last room we’d met in, he was actually sitting behind a large hardwood desk, absorbed in his paperwork. Glyphs, bureaucratic nonsense, scribbles—it was all there.

In front of the desk were two couches with a coffee table in the middle, neatly arranged with biscuits, snacks, and warm tea.

Asche sat curled on the left couch, tail in her hands, ears flattened. She looked small. Sad.

My stomach dropped.

Were those… tears?

Before I even realized it, my aura flared with rage.

The room darkened as my energy filled it, flooding the air with pressure. Ulrich and Irmgarde reacted immediately—both raising defenses, preparing spells. The energy slowly seeped into the world’s fractures, quiet and absolute.

‘I’m fine!’ shouted Asche in my mind, standing up. ‘Look at me! It wasn’t them. I’m fine.’

I turned to her—her eyes wide, pleading. I exhaled, then retracted my energy. The pressure vanished.

‘You sure?’ I asked her through the link.

She nodded. ‘It has nothing to do with them. They were kind. I’m sorry for worrying you.’

She smiled.

I blinked. Worried? Me? …I was, wasn’t I?

‘You’re one of mine,’ I replied without thinking.

A tiny smug grin crept across her face. ‘Yours, huh?’ she repeated, tail twitching.

‘You’re impossible,’ I muttered.

She laughed. ‘You said it, not me~’

‘Urg.’

“As it seems your familiar has cleared up the misunderstanding,” Ulrich said, relaxing and sinking back into his chair as his spell preparations unraveled.

I flopped down next to Aska, unconsciously pulling her close—like my body needed to prove something. To them. To anyone who might be watching. That she was mine. And if someone hurt her again, they’d feel it.

She leaned slightly into me, quiet. Still. Her tail didn’t twitch. Her ears stayed flat.

I heard Irmgarde laugh behind us. “I’ve never seen a high elemental sit that close to someone outside her kind—let alone a Matriarch. Curious times we live in.”

‘What’s she talking about?’ I asked through the link. No response. She was oddly silent.

Also—goddess above, I hadn’t expected her ears to be that fluffy. They had no right being that soft. Whatever the System did, it did it damn right.

Too right…

Ulrich cleared his throat, tone clipped. “If we could return to business—I’m rather busy. And now I have to write a formal statement to the Archduke.”

Irmgarde sighed dramatically but relented, settling onto the couch across from us. “Fine. I’ll tone down my curiosity—for now.”

“So?” I prompted.

Ulrich sighed, folding his hands over the desk. “I’ve already heard the basic summary from the princess. I would have appreciated being told your familiar wasn’t just any elemental, but a high elemental. And royalty on top of it. Na-Na should have said something...”

I tilted my head, feigning indifference. “Why should I have? She’s not your concern. And if she acted, I’m sure she had a damn good reason.”

Ulrich frowned and tapped his fingers against the desk. “You’re not wrong. But if I’d known the full scope, I could’ve prepared better for the fallout.”

I leaned back slightly. “And how would you have prepared? From what I’ve heard, your daughter started the fight. I’m more surprised that a group like hers is even allowed to exist in your academy.”

His expression darkened. “I may have been too lenient in some areas. But the political landscape within this institution is more complex than you might assume. My daughter is aligned with the same faction as those purist professors you saw outside. She’s allowed herself to be drawn in by their ideals.”

He exhaled slowly, choosing his next words with care. “She lives with her mother. We’re divorced. And she’s been under their influence for too long. I tried to reach her. To pull her back from that toxic swamp. I really did. But if this is her answer…”

For a moment, something in him gave way. A deep pain surfaced in his eyes, and for the first time, they truly matched his age—tired, exhausted, and quietly bitter.

“I’ll suspend her. Effective immediately. All protections I’ve granted her will be revoked. Her actions endangered the student body. And I’ll launch a formal investigation into the White Knights. I’ll dig into every abuse they’ve buried under noble status—hers, mine, and the others.”

I studied him for a beat longer than I needed to. Then I spoke, honestly. “You’re taking this more seriously than I expected.”

He shook his head. “No. I should’ve acted long ago. This is my failure.”

He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing. “But we still need to address your familiar’s actions. The damage to the hall, and… the possible murder of the Archduke Rosenthal’s daughter.”

“She’s still alive, isn’t she?” I said.

“For now. She’s in treatment. Na-Na’s magic should stabilize her. But if she dies, we’ll have more than politics to worry about.”

“Why should we care?” I asked, deadpan.

This time, Irmgarde spoke up. “Protecting herself is one thing. But she nearly killed someone. That’s a clear breach of regulation.”

She folded one leg over the other,  her tone cool and direct. “We can’t force your cooperation, Matriarch. But we can restrict your access to certain facilities. Like the workshop.”

I blinked slowly. Ah, of course that was their Spiel.

“I might have something to… clarify this little misunderstanding,” I said, already knowing they’d bite. They just needed the bait.

So I opened my storage and placed a small, aged book on the coffee table. “Some of my research. Might interest you.”

Irmgarde clapped her hands. “Oh my, how generous! Let me just—”

She opened it. Her face shifted—pleasure fading into confusion.

“What language is this?”

“Old Moon Elvish,” I said, smirking.

Ulrich chuckled. “She got you, Irm. Give it here—I’ve studied it a bit.”

Irmgarde sighed and stepped behind him, leaning over as he flipped through the pages. His expression shifted—neutral, then puzzled, then silent. Still.

Irmgarde’s brow furrowed deeper. She said nothing.

“Well?” she asked eventually.

Ulrich looked up. “This is… incredible. I don’t understand all of it, but I know what it’s about. Just how far ahead is the witchdom?”

I smiled. “Those aren’t from the witchdom.”

He blinked. “They’re not?”

“No. That’s research. Theory. Most of it’s not even used.”

“Why not?” Irmgarde asked.

I let the silence breathe for a moment, then answered, grinning because I knew exactly what I was doing.

“Because it’s based on Eternal’s magic.”

irmgarde’s face darkened, and even Lord Ulrich looked taken aback, letting the book slip from his hands.

“Explain,” ordered the royal mage.

I waved my hand. “No reason to get so tense. It’s just an attempt to understand her magic—and develop countermeasures. In case she ever returns. Or… another of her artifacts wakes up.”

“Another artifact?”

Got them.

“Oops. My tongue slipped. But yes—artifacts. Eternal’s creations. Automatons, sealed creatures, constructs. Imagine what they could do if they ever got loose again. This research is a safeguard. Dangerous, yes. But necessary. No one wants to risk another Eternal… right?”

Ulrich stroked his beard, the weight of it settling into his eyes. “I see. I can understand why Krone and Babel are working on this. But you giving it away so easily means this book doesn’t contain the delicate parts?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t be that stupid. I don’t want to get on their bad side.” I shrugged. “But it might be enough to start your own research.”

“Indeed,” muttered Irmgarde. Her eyes didn’t leave me. “With this, I doubt even if the girl dies, the Archduke is unlikely to pursue it further.”

“So. We have a deal?”

Ulrich thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. But this reminds me…”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a small book. “I nearly forgot to give you this. It’s the manual for the forge. I still need to add some notes I think you’ll find useful—so I’ll send it later along with the updated schedule.”

“Fine,” I agreed. “But I’d like to go now. I have other things to prepare.”

“I think everything is settled,” he said with a weak smile. “I look forward to working with you, Madam Asche.”

“And I’d like to invite you to dinner tomorrow,” Irmgarde added with a flirtatious grin. “If that fits into your plans. There’s quite a lot I’d like to ask about you.”

“I should have time,” I answered, giving her nothing to work with.

There was a quiet moment. Just the hum of the room and Aska leaning into me. When I shifted to stand, I finally noticed—she’d fallen asleep. When had that happened?

A small warmth flickered in my chest before I tamped it back down. Still… her recent demeanor really was kinda cute.

I poked her cheek. She blinked awake slowly. Then, when she realized how close she’d gotten, she scrambled away in a panic.

‘S-sorry!’ she squeaked through our link.

I smiled gently. ‘No problem. The System pulled some serious shit on you, huh?’

Her eyes widened. ‘Wh-what do you mean?’

I frowned slightly, wondering why she reacted so strongly. Maybe she was still just shaken from earlier. ‘I’ll explain on the way back. Let’s get out of here for today.’

‘O-okay.’

We both stood, and I caught Irmgarde winking at Aska—for some reason that made her tail swish wildly.

…What was that about?

Anyway. Time to go. That was more than enough politics for one day.

“Please have a carriage ready for us,” I said to Ulrich, already turning for the door.

“Byee~” Irmgarde sang behind us as we left.

 —At the Cursed Ziggurat—

Azmael and Oryl moved deeper into the structure, cleaning out the last of the lower wendigos that had interrupted their survey.

The deeper they went, the more unsettling it became—many of the wendigos were already dead.

Burned. Twisted. Evaporated.

“That’s concerning,” muttered Azmael.

“Whatever came through here had divine energy strong enough to fry them just by being near,” Oryl replied, voice tight. “And none of the demis went this far. They’re nowhere close to this region.”

Oryl’s wings shifted behind them, twitching with agitation. “The human capital is nearby. Whatever did this may have gone that way. But did you feel it too?”

Azmael nodded. “The connection to the goddess is—disrupted.”

“And the village outside is gone,” Oryl added. “Completely scorched. Same burn pattern as the wendigos.”

“I hate the human capital,” Oryl muttered. “Do we really have to go there?”

“We have to,” Azmael said. “But I agree with you. This temple’s a nightmare. And I’m sick of the System’s warning messages every time we step near that corrupted zone.”

“I don’t get why that bug hasn’t been fixed yet.”

“Beats me. Not our job anymore.”

Oryl stretched their wings, huffing. “Come on. Let’s follow the trail. Maybe we’ll find the cause before it gets into the city.”

Azmael sighed. “Let’s just hope our workload doesn’t get any worse…”