Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor - Chapter 233: Astrid [5]
Chapter 233: Astrid [5]
Astrid lurched.
“Blergh…!”
Her body convulsed as she heaved, over and over, as her tears spilled down her cheeks. No matter how much she tried to breathe, her stomach kept twisting and twisting.
The scenes she had just witnessed were too much. So much so that she wanted to think it wasn’t real.
But what kept her grounded was the very essence of the magic that had shown it all to her. There was no mistaking it. The traces of mana radiating from the flower were so undoubtedly her mother’s.
She would never forget her mother’s magic.
And that was exactly why Astrid wanted to uncover more. What was her mother trying to show her?
No, why would a mother ever want her own child to witness such things?
It was through those memories that Astrid began to understand the truth. The world was not as she had once believed. The adults she had trusted without question were never worthy of that trust. The family she had loved so unconditionally was not the one she thought it was.
Even her beloved mother… was not who she believed her to be.
And perhaps, more painfully than anything else, Astrid began to suspect that her mother might have been the worst of them all.
“…In the end, even the professor was a victim.”
Without thinking, Astrid had referred to Vanitas the way she used to. It was an old habit. Wanting to be seen as an equal, as an adult, she had stopped using the title and started calling him simply by name.
Yet, at that moment, the truth became clear. No matter how much she tried to change, no matter how far she’d come, she was still his student.
Astrid swallowed dryly as the scene before her shifted once more.
Whoosh——
——She might not make it, Your Highness!
According to one of the researchers, the little blonde girl on the table, the one being tested on again, was dying.
——No, no! I won’t let it end like this! Step aside, Yves!
Her mother’s screaming voice pierced. She pushed through the team of scholars, reverse-engineering the process herself.
No one could deny the brilliance of Julia Barielle. She was a once-in-a-millennium genius, the kind of person whose mind existed in a realm beyond ordinary comprehension.
Many could create great inventions. But few could take something broken and piece it back together as though it had never shattered in the first place. A broken glass could be repaired, yes, but the cracks would always remain.
But Julia Barielle was the kind of genius who could restore that glass flawlessly without a single trace of damage.
Her intellect was so extraordinary that, during her university years, there were even rumors that she must have come from the future.
——If this happens again, sound the alarms immediately. I’ll be there. I will always be there for my daughter.
——Ah, yes. But if I may ask, Your Majesty… why go through such lengths?
By then, every researcher in the facility knew there was nothing moral about the project. The entire operation had long abandoned any sense of ethics.
Yet no one left. Every person there was driven by the same insatiable hunger for the pursuit of knowledge at any cost.
No dedicated scholar could turn away from a chance to be part of a study that dealt with the creation of artificial stigmatas. For those who still had a conscience, backing out was no longer an option. Julia Barielle had made sure of that.
Anyone who tried to resign was silenced. Some attempted to report her, but those efforts went nowhere. It soon became clear that even the Emperor himself knew exactly what this project entailed and had chosen to let it continue.
——Do I need a reason? She’s my own flesh and blood. I would do the same for any of my children. That’s why it pains me that my eldest opposes this. Tell me, Yves, wouldn’t you do the same for your own child?
——Of course, Your Majesty. I only meant…
——I know what you meant. But you’ll come to understand in time. What we’re doing here isn’t cruelty, Yves. Pain is the price of progress. One day, when another child suffers from the same cruel condition my daughter endures now, a cure will already exist because of this.
——….
No one could refute her reasoning. Every person in that chamber knew it was wrong, yet not one could challenge her. To challenge Julia Barielle’s reasoning was to challenge the very foundation of the project, and, by extension, the Empress’s will.
Whoosh——
From that point on, the experiments became routine, each one pushing further than the last. The process was brutal. Astrid was subjected to near-death more times than anyone could count. Her small figure endured pain no child should have ever known, yet the experiments continued.
It was so absurd that even Julia, in moments of anger, found herself laughing bitterly at the madness of it all.
——Are you all deliberately trying to kill my daughter?! Is that it?!
Her furious voice echoed through the facility.
——You think this project will end if my daughter dies?! Have you all forgotten who she is?! That’s right, she’s the princess of this Empire you all owe your lives to!
No one dared to respond.
——Get out of my way!
Julia rushed forward toward the containment pod.
——If any of you are too incompetent to handle this, then leave. I’ll do it myself!
And she did. Again and again, Julia personally intervened in every procedure, every malfunction, and every near-death recovery. Each success deepened her obsession, and each failure pushed her further from reason.
They all knew that leaving the project wasn’t an option. Anyone who tried would disappear within the week.
And because Julia Barielle was the Empress, even if they took their grievances to court, justice would never come.
At this point, Astrid could only watch blankly, wanting to see how it all ended.
Whoosh——
“Cough! Cough…!”
One by one, the scholars started showing symptoms. At first, it was only coughing. It was something so ordinary that no one thought much of it. A common cold, they said. Contagious, perhaps, but harmless.
Fortunately, one of the researchers, Yves, was a scholar in the medical field, a doctor, more or less. Among all those working on the project, he was one of the few Julia trusted, granting him enough freedom to come and go as he pleased.
But soon, the coughing spread. Within days, the entire facility was affected. Fatigue set in, followed by fever and shortness of breath. The symptoms worsened until many could barely stand.
Pneumonia, or perhaps something even worse, it didn’t matter. The illness consumed them all the same.
Eventually, they discovered the cause. It wasn’t the air, nor the reagents, nor faulty containment procedures.
It was her.
The more they interacted with the little girl, the more they tested her, the more they pushed her limits, the sicker they became. Each exposure drained them further, as though her very presence extracted something vital from their bodies.
What they failed to understand was that the radiation emanating from Astrid was her stigmata beginning to manifest.
In other words, the project was bearing fruit, though at a terrible cost. According to one of the scholars specializing in spirit theory, the souls and entities they had interfered with were exacting their price.
They had tampered with something no human should have touched.
The child whose soul had been in decline was now drawing strength from those around her, feeding on the mana veins of every living being in her vicinity.
Their life force, their vitality, their essence, all of it was being siphoned into her, sustaining both her soul and the forming stigmata within.
——Where is Yves?!
When Julia demanded an answer, it was Yves’s wife who answered.
——He’s been very busy these days, Your Highness. There’s an epidemic spreading in our district, and he’s been tending to the sick in the neighborhood.
——….
Ironically, Julia could never bring herself to impose her tyrannical authority on those closest to her. Yves, a trusted junior and talented scholar, had always been one of the few she genuinely respected. He was also the first to treat Astrid when her condition had initially been discovered.
For that reason alone, Julia’s fury subsided.
——Cough! Cough…!
The sudden sound drew her attention. Julia turned, only for her gaze to land squarely on a young boy seated on the cold floor, trembling as he covered his mouth. It was Zen, who continuously coughed until he fell unconscious.
The sight made her chest tighten. In that moment, she rushed to his side.
Zen had no idea he was affected by the illness. It was Julia who, through gritted teeth, told Clarice never to bring her son here again.
When Clarice left, Julia stood alone in the corridor. For all her brilliance, she realized there were things even she could not prevent, and that her pursuit of salvation had already begun to poison everything around her.
But she could not stop.
——I wonder if you’ve foreseen this too, Zen.
Julia chuckled to herself.
——You must have. But I only wish you had awakened to your memories, as I did.
Whoosh——
At long last, the project reached completion. It was, by every definition, a success.
But the cost had been immense. Many of the scholars who took part in it were dead. Those who survived were no better off, with their health deteriorating day by day.
——Mana Core Degeneration Syndrome.
Julia was the one who named it. The disease was the inevitable result of prolonged exposure to the unstable radiation produced by Astrid.
Most of what was known about it came from the tireless documentation and analysis conducted by Yves, the only scholar who remained unaffected.
His survival was largely due to his limited presence in the laboratory and his adherence to proper medical protocol when the symptoms first appeared.
Julia approached him one afternoon.
——Do you detest me?
——Absolutely.
——Should I apologize?
——It won’t bring my wife back.
——Then what will you do?
——Bring the truth to light. Even if it costs me everything. The world deserves to know what really happened here.
And that, Yves did. He gathered what little evidence remained and tried to expose the truth. But all his efforts amounted to nothing. Every record, every document, every word he released was immediately silenced.
The Imperial Family thoroughly suppressed the information with absolute authority.
What shocked him most, however, was that he was never punished. He wasn’t arrested, nor executed, nor even reprimanded. His name was simply erased from every official record.
It didn’t take long for him to understand. It was Julia’s doing. Despite everything, she had intervened to keep his name hidden. She had ensured the Imperial Family wouldn’t touch him.
Was it an act of conscience? A final attempt to make peace with her own guilt? If it was, Yves found it laughable.
So laughable, in fact, that he broke.
——It’s been a while… Clarice.
The next one Julia met was Clarice Astrea.
——How’s Zen? Ah, wait, I should call him Vanitas, now, yes?
——He’s doing well, Your Highness…
——I see. That’s good.
——Your Highness… if I may ask, why call for me after all this time?
——Do you despise me too, Clarice?
At Julia’s question, Clarice lowered her gaze.
——I would be lying if I said no.
——I’m sorry, Clarice—No, sorry won’t make up for what I did. I won’t play the morality card here. But what I can tell you is this. Your child is meant for greater things. He won’t die. He won’t succumb to this illness, Clarice.
——What makes you so certain? Vanitas is still young, and this… cancer hasn’t fully manifested yet. I only hope it never does.
——Then may I tell you a secret, Clarice?
——A secret?
——Your child, Vanitas… he bears an uncanny resemblance to the first Archmage.
——….What?
“What?”
Even Astrid, watching the memory, couldn’t help but question it as well.
The first Archmage, the progenitor of all magic, was a name known across millennia. His existence was the cornerstone of magical theory, with research still incompletely understood even after a thousand years, the father of all modern magic theories.
But no one knew what he looked like. It had never been recorded in any past document. The man was an enigma that transcended history itself.
So how could her mother, Julia Barielle, possibly know what the first Archmage looked like?
And more importantly, how could she claim that Vanitas resembled him?
Julia smiled in her vision.
——The cycle always repeats itself, Clarice. History, life, even death, they’re just patterns waiting to align again.
——….
——I am the very proof of that.
At that moment, Julia raised her hand. From her palm, a white flower began to bloom with an ethereal glow.
——Take this.
Clarice’s brows furrowed, and so did Astrid’s.
——That’s…
——This is my stigmata. It’s called the Lily of the Valley. It records, it documents, and it can even contain souls within.
——…Souls.
——Every scholar who worked with us and died, every life taken by this project, their souls have been recorded here. Those who perished but still longed to live now exist within this flower. Of course, it’s not truly them. But even so… no matter how hypocritical I may sound, they deserve to be remembered, even if no one else ever will.
——Your Highness…
——If you can, plant this in the north, in my hometown. There, in the cold, it will bloom and manifest. I planted many like it when I was young, all across the northern plain. But this one… this one will bloom the most beautifully. And someday, all those flowers will blossom together.
Clarice hesitated.
——…I see. But why the north, specifically?
——Because I’m certain that one day, when the stars align, my daughter and Vanitas will go there. Once they do, they will search for answers. I want this to be the answer they find.
“….”
Astrid’s eyes widened as she watched. It wasn’t entirely true, as she had discovered all this alone. Julia Barielle had been far from perfect. In fact, she might have been the most flawed person Astrid had ever known.
——Then they will know. They will learn the truth of what happened here… of Your Highness’s sins…
——I don’t wish to impose. But my daughter may stray down a dangerous path. I want this to serve as her recursor. And as for Zen, well…
She stopped there, leaving her words unfinished.
“….”
In the end, even this act was still for Astrid. Her mother had known she would see it one day. A twisted expression of motherly love.
Then, all of a sudden, Julia’s eyes turned. Her gaze met Astrid’s through the memory.
——You’re watching this, aren’t you, Astrid? I know you are.
Astrid froze, swallowing her saliva deeply.
——Yes… this is the truth about Mommy. I know it wasn’t pleasant. But since you’re my daughter, I can already tell you’re the stubborn type. You’d demand answers. You’d keep searching, no matter how painful it was.
Julia’s expression softened, a melancholic smile forming on her lips.
——So here it is, Astrid. The answer you’ve been looking for.
“….”
Astrid clenched her fists.
“You’re wrong.”
Even now, in this final memory, her mother was still wrong. Julia had never once done anything right, not as a mother, not as a scholar, not as an Empress.
Every action she had taken had been nothing but a sin disguised as love.
“This… is not the answer I was looking for.”
What Astrid wanted to know was the truth behind her death. The truth about Vanitas’s role in it.
But this wasn’t it.
And yet, as she watched her mother’s smile fade into the dissolving memory, the anger she once held toward Vanitas began to dissolve along with it.
——I’ll always love you, Astrid.
“I hate you….”
Because all the pain and fury that had once burned toward Vanitas now turned toward her own mother.
* * *
Vanitas just silently stood, holding a white flower in his hand as he struggled to grasp the entirety of what he just witnessed.
Drip. Drip…!
Tears slid down his cheeks, falling onto the petals that were slowly dissolving.
He didn’t try to wipe the tears away. He just stood there, letting the grief consume him, as though each drop mirrored the sorrow of everything he had come to understand, and everything he wished he hadn’t.
