“He hasn’t left yet?”

Loren had originally planned to go to the library at night to look for books, but as soon as he stepped out, he found Casper blocking the doorway. Every time Loren tried to leave, Casper would chase him down with questions, leaving Loren with no choice but to retreat back inside. So Loren waited until late into the night.

“He’s still at the door… A Scarecrow tried to persuade him to go home, but he didn’t leave.”

“This old man—I didn’t even say I was going to the academy tomorrow, and he’s just sitting there waiting? What if I don’t go until next month?”

In the end, Loren decided not to use the front door at all. He activated the High Tower and the Hermit simultaneously, phasing through the wall to leave.

Once outside, Loren flew straight toward the academy. In the air, he saw Casper sitting at the entrance.

“…”

Loren ignored him and headed directly to the academy’s library.

Unlike when Loren had been a student here, the academy didn’t enforce a curfew. Even at this late hour, plenty of people were still around, burning oil lamps as they studied diligently.

Commoners didn’t have the natural talent of nobles; they could only make up for it through hard work.

Loren went to the section housing biographies. After making sure no one was around, he drew Requiem and swung it at a row of books on the shelf.

The books were precisely trimmed—a corner sliced clean off. This meant the Dawn Princess’s Diary wasn’t among them.

“Moving on.”

Loren switched to another row of books and swung again.

He had already tested this before: the Dawn Princess’s Diary was so indestructible that even Requiem couldn’t damage it, so there was no need to worry about accidentally harming it.

If he kept searching like this, he’d eventually find it. What Loren feared was that the book had already been taken by someone else—in which case, everything he was doing would be a complete waste of effort.

Loren silently noted the call numbers of the missing books, making it easier to conduct a second round of screening once those books were returned.

His memory had reached a terrifying level now; remembering all of this was effortless.

In fact, Loren could even recall the minute differences on the backs of a deck of playing cards. If he wanted to, he could become a gambling god relying purely on his memory. Unfortunately, he wasn’t short on money, so there was no need to waste his talents on something so trivial.

Loren spent several hours searching through every book on this floor, but found nothing. He was starting to get annoyed.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

Suppressing the urge to burn the entire library down in a fit of rage, Loren prepared to leave. Then, at a table nearby, he noticed a familiar figure.

It was this late, and Paqina was still studying hard. Curious, Loren approached to see what she was doing.

Around her were stacks of history books. Every few pages, she’d jot something down in her notebook.

Loren leaned in a little closer and caught a glimpse of her notes. She had recorded suspicious points in the history books.

What’s more, when Paqina flipped through her notebook, Loren saw that she had written down his words from earlier that day—verbatim, no less, in bold ink.

“…”

Loren hadn’t expected Paqina to be so persistent. These histories were far more dangerous than even the historical texts themselves. If the Orthodox Gods got anxious, they wouldn’t hesitate to destroy the entire Bountiful Magic Academy.

Paqina’s research was remarkably thorough, though. There were many inconsistencies Loren himself hadn’t even noticed.

“You made a mistake here. Outer Gods and Orthodox Gods aren’t the same thing. They’re not what you think—failed usurpers of Orthodox Gods. The failed usurpers were all killed. That’s how the God of Light and Fire got His authority over fire.”

“!”

Loren’s sudden voice startled Paqina so badly that she dropped her pen.

Her body trembled. Within seconds, her clothes were soaked through with cold sweat, and she stood frozen in place.

At the same time, an endless wave of regret surged in Paqina’s heart. She had been carefully monitoring her surroundings—she was certain no one was nearby. And yet, someone had still discovered her.

Paqina knew all too well the price of researching these things. And just that day, Loren had warned her again.

Then she clenched her fist, her mind racing as she considered whether she could escape.

“It’s me. Loren.”

Loren sat down in the seat across from Paqina, his tone relaxed.

“Master Mentor…”

Even after Loren revealed himself, Paqina’s movements remained stiff. After all, Loren was a member of the Church—a high-ranking one at that.

By conventional logic, what Paqina was doing amounted to blasphemy. It wouldn’t even be surprising if Loren killed her on the spot.

But the way Loren was acting didn’t match her perception of him. Just that afternoon, he had actively told her that history was false and had warned her about the dangers of researching it.

“Don’t be nervous. I also hope the real history gets revealed.”

Loren casually picked up Paqina’s notebook and started reading.

“Your speculation is pretty reasonable. The Orthodox Gods aren’t really true gods. They just stole their authority. The disasters were also brought by Them.”

The moment Loren spotted Paqina, he had cast a Shielding Spell.

There were a lot of things weighing on Loren’s mind, things he’d kept bottled up for a while. He wanted to talk about them too.

“Before the Orthodox Gods appeared, people actually lived quite well. There was even a great being guiding them. It was the Orthodox Gods who suppressed their wisdom and forbade humans from thinking.”

In the Dawn Princess’s Diary, Loren had seen what life was like before the Orthodox Gods descended. People really did live well back then. Even the Dawn Princess, who was bullied like Cinderella, had never really gone hungry.

“Then what kind of person was the Dawn Princess?”

Loren had completely piqued Paqina’s curiosity. By now, an extreme thought had taken root in her heart: if she could learn all the hidden truths, she wouldn’t care even if she died tomorrow.

To hear the Way in the morning, and die content in the evening.

“The Dawn Princess… She was a staunch revolutionary, selfless. She created many precious spells and made them public to everyone.

“Later, she traveled far and wide, doing righteous deeds and protecting people.

“She wasn’t a princess from the start—in fact, she wasn’t even a noble. She was just an overlooked little girl. The title ‘Princess’ was a respectful name given to her by others…”

Loren had opened the floodgates. He casually shared these words with Paqina—words that could get them both beheaded.

“And it wasn’t that she wanted to overthrow the Orthodox Gods. They wanted to overthrow her.”

Listening to these hidden secrets, Paqina trembled with excitement. Without realizing it, she leaned closer and closer to Loren until she was practically lying across the table, her nose nearly touching his.

Before he continued speaking, Loren pressed a hand on her shoulder, signaling her to sit back down. Paqina let out an awkward laugh and returned to her seat.

“Master Mentor, actually, I recently found a book in the library. It mentioned that Witches aren’t really embodiments of calamity. On the contrary, they’re quite kind. Is that true?”