In the end, I couldn’t figure out the identity of the voice. I was sure I had heard it, though.
I thought that perhaps Mastema might be able to perceive something beyond my understanding.
However, she said she didn’t hear such a voice.
At home, Noel was preparing dinner. Even though she was supposed to be busy with the excellent group, one of the two of them always took care of the housework.
While it’s expected for a slave, I had told them when they enrolled in the magic academy that it was fine to focus on their studies.
It’s a great help that they still take care of things.
Arnella seemed to be spending a lot of time on her practical lessons. It appears she’s already handling intermediate-level magic. Since Noel and Arnella often work together, they’re probably efficient.
Learning tends to go better when you have someone to work with, rather than doing it alone.
I have Mastema. While she’s lost interest in human magic, her thirst for knowledge remains intact. She’s reliable when it comes to studying.
As she pulled a gratin out of the large oven, Noel spoke.
“About 40% of the class ended up joining that club.”
“Forty percent… that’s practically the largest faction.”
The hierarchy within Noel’s excellent group was changing. While the group that included Noel and Arnella remained at the top, the lower ranks had entirely joined the Hell Research Society and banded together.
That said, it didn’t seem to create any hostility within the excellent group. However, when opinions were divided during practicals, the lower ranks’ opinions were increasingly being chosen.
Arnella’s delay today was also due to that influence.
They tend to choose inefficient methods. But since they’ve become the majority, they believe they’re right.
Arnella and her group propose better methods for the overall good, but their suggestions are gradually being rejected.
“It’s like they’ve become arrogant. Students who were easygoing and approachable before have suddenly become stubborn.”
“They say power changes people, but something does feel strange.”
The Hell Research Society also had members in the lower class. Only about five or six people, likely because it’s a bunch of freewheeling individuals.
At first, I thought the seniors of the Hell Research Society were helping them catch up in classes, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
Their grades in lectures remain terrible, but they’ve started producing results in practicals.
“Oh, that! It’s the same here. People who struggled with intermediate magic just the day before suddenly mastered it after joining the club.”
…I’m amazed this has been allowed to continue. They’re definitely doing something. Drugs or some kind of suspicious technique.
At worst, the students might have been swapped with something else.
I recalled that zombie student. Could they have been wandering like that ever since they disappeared in that place? Is the Hell Research Society involved?
No matter how much magic researchers push the limits, there are rules of decency to uphold.
And if a problem arises, it must be nipped in the bud. The longer it’s left alone, the bigger a headache it will be later.
There’s also the headmaster’s reputation to consider. Once the results of the inquiry come out, we should act quickly.
As I was thinking that, Arnella returned home.
“I’ll get ready right away.”
“Calm down, take a break.”
Arnella quickly washed her hands and tried to help Noel with an apron on, but I handed her a crepe I had bought, putting it to her lips.
Surprised, Arnella’s mouth started to move, chewing. Her face lit up as she tasted the sweetness.
“Thank you. This is delicious.”
“Right?”
“Thinly baked dough, with fruit inside… I could probably recreate this easily.”
She must have been quite hungry after her long practical. She devoured the crepe in one go.
Arnella, smiling and saying “so delicious,” looked different from her usual self. As they’ve spent time in the magic country, Noel and Arnella have begun to show their true selves. Of course, that’s because I allow it.
If I didn’t want it, they’d immediately put on their slave masks. They’re that capable.
They might even be much smarter than me.
Mastema, who had approached the gratin with a spoon for a taste, instead grabbed a baguette stuffed with smoked meat and retreated.
Whenever meals are prepared, an anti-snacking dish is always set aside for Mastema first.
Incidentally, if she tries it a second time, her meal would consist of just one small potato, so she only ever does it once.
Is this what discipline looks like?
We spent our days like that, focusing on our studies. The headmaster’s inquiry took place in less than seven days, sooner than expected.
The result was guilty, though.
Apparently, a group of students and instructors had tried to recreate a demon altar out of curiosity.
In every country, summoning angels or demons is punishable by death the moment you attempt it.
This has been an unchanging rule since a major incident wiped an entire nation off the map long ago. It’s a rule that applies across the entire continent. People don’t normally confess to such things.
Yet the Hell Research Society handed over two students and one instructor. As if that would end the matter.
The outcome of the interrogation was even worse.
They reportedly kept repeating, “I did it.”
I couldn’t imagine they were conscious. I guess I’ll have to investigate directly.
The headmaster tried to pursue it further, but was summoned by the government of the magic country after they received the report.
For now, the Hell Research Society has been suspended and placed under the surveillance of unaffiliated instructors. Lucora seems to be participating in this.
The formal order for disbandment will likely come after the headmaster returns.
But I doubt this will resolve the issue.
The club shifted all suspicion onto the three people they handed over.
That little headmaster might be an impressive mage, but they’re moving far too slowly, with no sense of urgency. They don’t even lock the door when changing.
It’ll be too late if the club goes underground after disbanding.
I took Mastema and headed to the classroom where the fourth-year students of the excellent group were.
Noel and Arnella came along too.
After all, Noel was the one invited.
The stares from the others were impolite, but I didn’t bother with the glares of children.
The one who greeted us was that senior, Sena Easton.
