Sustaining The King's Life 111 Teleport To The Dungeon

But then, that belief had just shattered when she realized that she was caught in a web of conspiracy. Faustina couldn't even think about herself the same anymore. People around here seem to know more about herself at this rate. Mana? Warlocks? Eula being the stellar student of Magierstadt?

She couldn't even take the information properly, but she had accepted what was planned for her. Not that she even had the choice to refuse—and it's not like she had plans for herself for the present. Faustina obviously was lost, and maybe that's why Sheilalev displayed her distaste around her pretty openly.

The king told her she was ordered to sustain his life, as well as Eula. Looking back now, it was like everything was planned for her. It was like everything had been antic.i.p.ated, her life predetermined by some sort of an external force. Faustina didn't want to think that it was the case; if she did, then that would mean Eula had died just for the sake of following these certain 'plans'. She refused to think of the events as something that was premeditated right from the start.

However, even Eula's own words were making Faustina conclude that this was all a set up made by 'fate'. Eula told her not to 'adhere to the prophecy' . . . to whatever that meant, Faustina wasn't sure. She doesn't even know what this prophecy is—and that Warlock, the Forsaken, Jonathan—he had spouted words the same as Eula. If Faustina could remember correctly, they were about the 'prophecy' . . .

Faustina had many questions at mind; thinking about them will leave her head into a chaotic mess. Which is why she repressed them for a while, resting on the back of her mind. Stalling wouldn't give her any answers, nor would pondering and waiting. She had to act, and find the answers her own.

Although it wasn't her decision—or not that she can refuse—she had accepted the path laid before her. What the king had planned for her. Faustina had the gut feeling that the king was right, that there was something in Magierstadt that would give her the answer she needs. After all, it was the birthplace of the Forsaken, and Eula's school. Of course, it would have a connection to her.

But it wasn't just herself she's doing it for. Faustina knew she agreed to the king—agreed to sustain his life. To act as the catalyst for an enormous amount of power that will stabilize Nightmare, and if possible, permanently eradicate it.

Faustina still knows that the subject wasn't crystal-clear, especially if she doesn't know much about magic (Orwell taught her the ropes, but it was still different learning them yourself). She still doesn't know how would breaking this 'seal' made by Eula to repress her mana would aid the king. And how is a Heilen like her, any different to other people? Faustina was that of a child thirsting for so many answers, like a curious toddler wandering to see the world.

Orwell told her that she wasn't one to blame. She was in the mountains for her whole life, so it would be normal for her to burst with so many queries.

"It just means you're a bright child, Faustina," Orwell said.

The magical circle engraved to the floor illuminated as the professor named Yoan thumped her staff to the floor. Faustina observes how the engravings gleamed one by one, with the firefly mark on the middle connecting each to form a hexagram. Faustina and the students were called to attention as their instructor landed in the middle of the ground, her staff's hilt landing straight to the firefly markings.

"Ianuae Magicae!"

A single word sent a flash of light to the entirety of the s.p.a.ce, blinding everyone with a bright ray. The thump of the staff and the spell the instructor had echoed to Faustina's mind, like that of a voice directly speaking to her head.

Faustina opened her eye slowly, chocolate-colored orbs glancing around a different place.

"Wha—where are we?"

"How . . ."

"Where is this?"

Faustina couldn't believe it. Did they just . . . teleport? And just with a simple enchantment, the professor was able to transport a hundred students to a new place? That should be another thing one would often call impossible. Orwell couldn't transport people in the blink of an eye - and he told her, specifically, that transportation circles were only used specifically by those with magician licenses. But then he never told her that mages could transport a huge amount of people at once. Just how much mana did the professor use?

"Unbelievable . . ."

From the bright and magnanimous spectacle Magierstadt had offered, had now changed into a wholly different prospect. The beads of dripping water from the obsidian to the gravel, the wooden buckets scattered all across the place, and the sinister aura being emitted by the large fortress before them sent Faustina a shiver down her spine.

They were inside of what looked like an abandoned palace, or a manor. It had arched windows that viewed nothing but pitch-black darkness. The place looked haunted from its dark and gloomy disposition. It had set fear and anxiousness among the students, which led Faustina to believe that the academy did really prepare for all of this. From the walls had an enormous banner that looked like an emblem of a certain empire. And from what empire, Faustina wasn't aware of it. It wasn't like anything she had seen before, considering she had lessons in history books.

The banner was ripped and ragged, making it impossible to even look at it as a whole picture. Faustina's gaze darted to the whole place, down to the dirty puddle scattered around the cracked floor of the manor. Faustina raised her gaze slowly as a woman's steps echoed to the vast. Professor Yoan had now made her entrance.

"I welcome you all," Professor Yoan, who had now appeared atop the staircases, said. "to the Magierstadt's artificial dungeon—the Dark Castle."