Martha's cooking skills had improved, so much so that even Renée, who usually had little appetite, downed several bowls of mushroom soup. Afterward, she collapsed onto the sofa in Fischer's room, seemingly exhausted, with no intention of moving.
anwhile, Fischer turned on the desk lamp and opened the window. He enjoyed sitting here with the night breeze, especially during rainy nights in Saint Nary. The rhythmic patter of rain unexpectedly cald his thoughts. Of course, this was also because he liked smoking while writing, preventing the room from becoming stuffy and reeking of tobacco.
Fischer picked up a quill and began writing on the letter paper.
"Why are you writing again? Didn't you finish your thesis?"
"I'm replying to a letter."
"To that Elizabeth?"
Renée lifted her head but imdiately flopped back onto the sofa, too full to even float. She adjusted her position just enough to see Fischer's back.
Fischer nodded. "Just official business. I'm not close to her, and I don’t want to get too involved."
"Goldline! The royal family! If she just waved her hand, you could lie around all day without a care. Countless gentlen dream of such a chance, yet here you are, within reach, secretly rejoicing..."
Renée waved her hand, her tone dripping with sarcasm, making it impossible to discern her true feelings.
Fischer ignored her, writing a brief reply before sealing it in an envelope. Given his financial situation, he couldn’t afford the gold-lined paper and wax seal Elizabeth had used, so he simply used his usual work envelope.
Most of the other letters were notifications requiring no reply, but to Fischer's surprise, aside from Elizabeth's letter, there was another personal one—this one from Saint Nary University.
Upon opening it, he found it was from the university's headmaster, Kennen, inviting Fischer to join as a professor due to their current shortage of qualified instructors. He requested Fischer visit the campus in the city's outskirts to discuss the matter further.
Fischer tapped the desk, recalling details about Saint Nary University.
To understand the university, one must first know the two major factions in Parliant.
First was the Pioneer Party, or the New Party, currently enjoying soaring popularity. Its mbers consisted of newly ascended nobles and entrepreneurs, advocating radical and innovative policies. Backed by the Nary Pioneer Company, they often pushed legislation favoring corporate interests.
The other faction was the traditional Gryphon Party, also called the Conservatives, existing since Parliant's inception. Composed mostly of nobles and traditional intellectuals, though currently weakened, they still wielded significant influence in many areas.
Kennen, the university's headmaster, was a renowned scholar with no political affiliations. Appointed by the king three years ago to establish Saint Nary University, the process required approval from the Gryphon Party’s stronghold, the Royal Academy. Yet, the university’s funding ca from the Nary Pioneer Company, which provided top-tier facilities and books.
Both parties agreeing was a rare sight—Fischer had last seen such unity during the war against Schwalli. This could only an the king had forced them into at least superficial cooperation regarding the university.
Teaching there wouldn’t be a bad choice. Kennen had invested heavily to attract scholars outside the Royal Academy’s influence. While finding instructors for erging fields like steam engines and chemistry was easier—since those experts were already rejected by the Royal Academy—traditional subjects like magic proved difficult, as most qualified teachers had ties to the academy.
Kennen reaching out wasn’t surprising, but Fischer needed to consider whether joining the university was wise, given how the Royal Academy had devolved into a political battleground.
After so thought, Fischer decided to et Kennen first to discuss the matter. His finances were tight, and he needed work to ease the pressure.
"By the way, when are you leaving?"
Earlier, Renée had ntioned leaving for southern Kald to continue searching for her ho. Unsure of her plans, Fischer decided to ask.
"Probably tomorrow. I’ve stayed with you long enough—I’m bored."
Her words were a jab at Fischer ignoring her earlier, as if lanting their fading bond. But then, she suddenly wondered if Fischer had brought this up to create so last mories—maybe inviting her to a play or sothing.
So even Fischer had learned a thing or two about romance? Not completely hopeless after all.
She smirked, propping her cheek on her hand, her reclined figure both elegant and alluring.
"Oh? Does Lord Fischer have any plans?"
"No." Fischer glanced back, pointing at the cane nearby. "The magic on this is spent. So high-tier spells are too troubleso for to inscribe alone, so I need your help."
"I’m sleepy. Goodnight, see you tomorrow."
She flopped back onto the sofa, curling up, her pale feet tucked in, her dark curls hiding her face—clearly sulking.
Seeing her resort to her usual antics, Fischer chuckled silently.
"Fine. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the theater as a farewell gift."
Renée lifted her head, pondered, then grinned mischievously.
"I’m leaving tomorrow morning. The theater’s out of the question..."
"That soon?"
"Please, I’ve been with you over a month. So people just can’t seize an opportunity—what a sha."
Her fingers trailed along her body, her purple eyes intoxicating like fine wine. "But helping you inscribe magic isn’t impossible... Spill it—what’s the deal with you and Elizabeth?"
So she was still hung up on that letter.
"We were classmates at the Royal Academy. Alumni, nothing more."
"Nothing more?"
"Nothing more."
Fischer sipped his coffee, his calm deanor making Renée scrutinize him before finally relaxing. She pointed at the window and door.
"Fine. Lock the windows and door—don’t want the police barging in while we work."
As ntioned before, Renée was a [Witch], a rare demi-human species native to the western continent.
To recap humanity’s definition of demi-humans: "Demi-humans encompass all humanoid species." So resemble humans closely, others not at all. Witches are among the most human-like, but they are fundantally different.
Their defining trait is imnse magical power. Not being human also ans their magic circuits differ vastly from humans’, and when using magic or manifesting their attributes, these differences beco glaringly apparent.
Fischer nodded, closing the windows and locking the door, then informing Martha not to disturb them. She was elderly—startling her with Renée’s magic could be dangerous.
Renée floated up, taking the cane from Fischer.
"What spells? We only have one night, so we can’t do many. Handle the low-tier ones yourself—we’ll work on the high-tier ones together."
"Just Gravitational Celestial Rings and Spatial Refraction. I’ll handle the rest."
Renée nodded, her starry pupils expanding instantly as her body was engulfed by glowing magic circuits, transforming into a swirling entity of purple stardust. The figure seed feathered, each plu densely packed with magic circuits equivalent to three or four humans.
Visibly, the circuits at the feather tips kept growing. The mont Renée’s circuits activated, one feather detached, morphing into a purple lark that tilted its head at Fischer.
Elsewhere in Saint Nary, hidden in the night, larks perched on pipes and rooftops lit up with purple eyes, resonating with their master’s magic.
The sheer volu of magic never failed to awe Fischer. Witches were practically born for magic.
Gripping the cane, Fischer watched as Renée’s feather-like hand touched its tip, instantly inscribing an inverted purple ring—the [Gravity] spell’s Ring Head. Fischer began carving the Main Ring, their segnted approach reducing risks and magic expenditure. Many high-tier spells required such cooperation.
Renée’s starry form twisted through the air, unbound by space, as intricate sigils materialized on the cane’s surface like exquisite art.
High-tier inscriptions took hours. Even working together, two spells took nearly the entire night. By the ti Fischer finished the last Ring Tail, dawn was breaking over Saint Nary.
Renée’s astral form didn’t hesitate, instantly retracting into her human body. She stretched before floating onto Fischer’s bed.
"Ugh, so tired... Should’ve run off the ship first—would’ve avoided this."
"That’s my bed."
Renée hugged Fischer’s sheets, tapping her lips.
"Co on, I’m leaving. Gotta leave my scent so every ti you flirt around, you’ll feel guilty—'Oh no! How could I? This isn’t fair to Renée! I must change!' Then you’ll beco a proper Nary gentleman."
"I’m washing these sheets tomorrow. Sleep or don’t—makes no difference."
"Ugh, Fischer, would it kill you to humor ?"
Renée tried to float up and smack him but yawned halfway, collapsing back onto the bed. "Keep mocking . Once I leave, you’ll never see again! You’ll regret it!"
Fischer crossed his legs on the sofa, watching her amusedly as she mumbled in her half-asleep state.
"Sleep. You’re dead on your feet."
Outside, Saint Nary stirred awake. The room was filled with the witch’s fragrance, her body curled in his bed, the newly hatched Hart bird yawning as it perched on Fischer’s hand, closing its eyes just like her.
Fischer decided to rest too, stroking the bird’s head, unaware that Renée and the Hart mirrored the sa content expression.
He could use the rest.
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