As soon as they returned to Galdorssia, Homura, Psycho, and Jin headed toward the Academy of the Black Arts. Tsutsumi and Proto waited at home, as usual.
“This place is just as dark and forbidding as people say,” said Psycho.
“That’s only the decor,” Homura replied. “It’s warm and inviting inside. It’s basically just a social club for dangerous weirdos.”
Located underground, where the light didn’t reach, the Academy was naturally dark and gloomy. The rooms were illuminated by candlelight, which was a rarity in this world. People usually used orestones, which gave off light in response to magical energy. As cringeworthy as it was, the reason they didn’t use orestones in the Academy was apparently just that they wanted the ambiance.
“It smells moldy…”
They were currently in a damp, musty-smelling stone passage. Flames flickered each time Homura and the others passed another candlestick bracket, causing the shadows on the walls to dance disconcertingly.
“Apparently, that’s also just the way they like it.”
“What’s wrong with these people…?”
The reason the Academy of the Black Arts had been consigned to the ground was because it handled the kinds of powers and items that were often shunned. It was where people studied dark magic that created physical and spiritual abnormalities—magic like pyromancy, which was difficult to control and could lead to great harm—and subjects such as cursed items and evil eyes.
The Academy also played a role in the dark side of Galdorssia, carrying out assassinations and torturing dangerous criminals. That was why the Academy, which was located in a large underground space, was also connected to a dungeon that held the land’s most treacherous criminals.
“I know we came to ask about the curseblood…but are you sure these people know what they’re doing?”
The girls needed more information before they reported to Falmeyr. What was a curse? What was this curseblood they were dealing with? And who, exactly, were they up against? The more Homura told them about goings-on at the Academy, however, the less confident Psycho and the others were that this place was going to be any help.
“They may seem strange…really strange, to be honest. But they know what they’re talking about,” said Homura.
“Are you sure? What about the malefic sword?”
Jin was not feeling very confident, either.
“It’s fine! I already told you, they have specialists in cursed items!”
After they descended several flights of stairs and made their way through numerous passages, the entrance to the Academy of the Black Arts finally came into sight. It was located smack-dab at the end of the passageway. The Academy awaited them just beyond those worn wooden doors.
Homura opened the doors as casually as if she were arriving home.
“Grams, I’m back!”
A large, round table had been placed in the center of the relatively spacious room. A woman was sitting at the table reading a book by candlelight. As soon as she saw Homura, she leaped to her feet with a shout of excitement.
“My darling little Homura! You’re back at last!”
She made a beeline for Homura, her voice incredibly cheerful, and swept her up in a great big hug. The woman’s hair was a deep shade of crimson. She could have easily been mistaken for Homura’s older sister.
“The woman hugging me right now is Carlila, the Academy’s preceptor. She’s my teacher.”
Yes, the woman currently smashing her ample bosom up against Homura was Carlila, the preceptor of the Academy of the Black Arts as well as Homura’s instructor in pyromancy. Despite the woman’s stunning physique, she could have easily passed as the dignified and beautiful type had she remained quiet. At the moment, however, she was all smiles.
The members of the Academy fawned over Homura. The other girls knew Homura had never gotten the chance to act spoiled with her own family, but they were not prepared to see the level to which Homura lapped this treatment up.
“Oh, and you must be Homura’s friends. She talks about you all a lot. I wish I could meet the other two as well!” Carlila said, hugging first Psycho and then Jin.
“Hold on a second, Homura, didn’t you just refer to this busybody lady as Grams?” Psycho asked suspiciously.
“Oh, that’s right. I didn’t tell you, did I?” Homura was so used to the way things were at the Academy that she had completely forgotten to explain.
“Despite my gorgeous looks, I’ve actually been alive for a very long time. I stopped counting once I hit triple digits.”
“Triple digits?!”
Carlila was claiming to be over one hundred years old, but she looked as if she were still in her twenties. The difference made Psycho’s head spin.