Only the soft glug-glug of tea being poured echoed through the room, now cleared of everything except the table.
She surely understood that this was a state of emergency, yet Sofia's expression remained unchanged. At the very least, she kept her composure on the surface.
Pulled along by her calm, Not regained his own as well.
A mage must always maintain clear thinking. The potency of one's magic is influenced by one's mental state. Under extreme agitation, spells could sometimes fail to activate altogether.
When he took a deep, deliberate breath, he became aware of the heaviness weighing down his entire body. Had he forgotten it due to the excitement and rage, or had he been terrified of Thousand Transformations himself without realizing it?
At the very least, his face must have looked haggard enough for Sofia to say so at a single glance.
Sofia set a cup of tea in front of Not, along with a box of chocolates—purchased who knew where—elegantly packaged.
Where on earth had she gone… He furrowed his brow, but no one could have predicted the current situation. If anything, now that the suspicion of a mole had been cleared, it could be said she was fortunate to have been outside the capital.
Over the Resonance Stone, they had not discussed the details. This was to prevent any information leakage.
He gave a concise explanation to Sofia, now seated across from him.
"By order from above, Hunters were sent into the White Wolf's Den. Our existence has been exposed. We are now the ones being hunted."
This was the worst-case scenario, one he could not have imagined even a month ago.
The Tower of Akasha was a massive organization. It had power, wealth, and strength. But this experiment was absolutely something that was never supposed to come to light.
No—the truth was, it was never supposed to be discovered in the first place. The technology of disrupting a portion of the Ley Line to generate anomalies in the Mana Material was the culmination of Not Koclea's research. Even if a powerful Phantom suddenly appeared, ordinary people would never suspect it was man-made.
Up until now, no one had been sniffing around for Not and the others. Thinking back, they should have suspected the existence of a mole the moment Thousand Transformations first showed up at the White Wolf's Den.
But that was now a meaningless hypothetical. Since eliminating all of the disciples—except Sofia—Thousand Transformations had shown no signs of moving. They should assume the mole had been dealt with.
Sofia did not bat an eye at Not's words.
Compared to the former disciples who had panicked and cowered in terror, Not let out a small sigh.
"Is this place safe?"
"It's safe for now. But we never know when an attack might come. We'll need to change our base. We may even have to leave the capital."
At those words, Sofia's expression shifted for the first time—a subtle change. Her eyes widened slightly, and she placed a hand to her mouth, looking thoughtful.
The capital had been supremely convenient for Not's research in every possible way. Surrounded by countless Treasure Halls. Powerful Hunters drawn by the wealth that congregated there.
Clients were endlessly available, too. The slums—the area known as the Decadent District—were beyond the reach of any Knight Order, and with a little caution, there was no shortage of human subjects for experiments. Even a similarly sized metropolis could not have offered such ideal conditions.
Sofia opened her small lips, her voice trembling.
"…Even the Tower of Akasha can't handle this?"
"The defensive golem—Akasha—lost."
"…?!"
This time, Sofia's expression clearly changed.
Her eyes went wide, and she stared at Not's face as though trying to confirm whether he was telling the truth.
Akasha was the crowning achievement of research entirely distinct from the Mana Material manipulation that Not and the others had developed together.
Sofia had been deeply involved in its construction as well. No other Alchemist had ever produced a golem of comparable power.
It was precisely because she understood its capabilities that the news of its defeat was so shocking.
Not felt a secret wave of relief at the change in her expression, and Sofia asked: "…That thing should have had enough power to trounce any Knight Order in the capital."
"Our opponent wasn't… a Knight Order. It was a Hunter."
"A Hunter is more than enough."
Sofia answered without hesitation.
Hearing those words, which contained not a shred of doubt, Not suddenly recalled something she had said back when Akasha was being built.
"…Come to think of it, it was you who said it could even defeat the Mourning Specter."
"…Yes."
"…Can you still say that now?"
Akasha was not something a single human being could defeat on their own. It possessed enough raw power to crush even a high-Level Hunter in a straight fight.
If Akasha had been present at the time and place where Thousand Transformations had found them, the outcome of that battle might have been very different.
But in reality, the golem had failed to bring down Peerless Shadow. It had not been destroyed, but the delay bought time was all it accomplished—one spell from Thousand Transformations overturned everything.
At his master's question, Sofia spoke with a thoughtful expression.
"…It was built nearly a year ago. High-Level Hunters grow stronger day by day. ……But even so, with proper handling, it should have had more than enough power to fight. Even if the opponent was the Mourning Specter… or the Divine Child of Sacred Thunder. I packed into it everything I could think of—every last advantage."
"…So the operator was incompetent, then…"
"……Even so, it should have been able to crush most opponents."
Sofia's expression was wary. Not a hint of a lie in it.
For that matter, Not himself had been absolutely confident in that golem. Enormous sums of money had been spent, the finest materials available had been used, and it had been produced over a long span of time.
But it had lost. The reality of that outcome existed, and it had to be accepted.
Moreover, they simply did not have the luxury of retrieving Akasha right now. They could not go back for it. They could not rely on it any longer.
"…Well, fine. We have the blueprints. Golems can be produced endlessly as long as you have time and money. What we need to do first is figure out how to handle the current situation."
"Please stay calm. Master, what matters is not the equipment. As long as you're alive, you can rebuild as many times as it takes."
"Do you have any ideas?"
At Not's inquiry, Sofia smiled gently. The agitation she had shown moments ago had vanished from her face.
"If our opponents are Hunters, then yes, there are a few… Let me think it over. …Master, if you're not going to finish them, would you mind if I had one? Something sweet is best for thinking."
Sofia's eyes were fixed on the box sitting on the table.
He did not know where it was from, but they were clearly expensive chocolates, neatly arranged.
When Not nodded, Sofia picked one up with her slender fingers, placed it in her mouth, and let a look of contentment spread across her face. Not did the same, picking one up and popping it into his mouth.
A pleasant sweetness and the aroma of cocoa spread through his mouth. The sugar seemed to seep into his exhausted body.
Only now did he remember that he had barely eaten anything for the past several days.
As he reached for a second piece, Sofia—who had been looking down, lost in thought—raised her head.
Her eyes, deep blue like the bottom of the sea, looked at Not.
"You mentioned a mole just now… Who was it? When I investigated in the past, I didn't find anyone suspicious."
"I don't know. We had no choice but to eliminate everyone based on circumstantial evidence. …I only realized after the attack."
"…That was the right call. I imagine it was an agonizing decision, but… you hurried back—and you made it in time. I'm truly grateful."
Sofia narrowed her eyes, relief washing over her face as she exhaled.
They could still win. There was no panic or fear in Sofia's expression. She had likely anticipated this kind of scenario from the start.
Sofia was very much like Not. The thirst for knowledge. The absence of any moral compunction about breaking laws. And—caution.
Her magical skill did not come remotely close to Not's, but what was needed now was not personal combat ability.
Sofia looked up at Not with a probing gaze.
"…May I ask the name of this enemy?"
"Oh… I hadn't told you yet."
Thinking back, Sofia had always regarded the Mourning Specter as her mortal enemy.
When Akasha was being created, she had invoked that name in proposing improvements to its performance.
It almost seemed as though his top disciple had foreseen that one day the Mourning Specter would challenge Akasha.
He spoke the name, laced with hatred.
"The one who has backed us into a corner this time… is someone you know well—the Mourning Specter. That… Thousand Transformations."
"…"
She said nothing, but the change in her expression was dramatic.
The gentle smile she had been wearing vanished, replaced by a serious, intent look.
Her sharp gaze swept over Not's face as though trying to expose some lie. Yet there was no fear or terror in it.
Good. That meant she would not be slow to act. Not raised his voice and slammed his fist on the table. Tea splashed, leaving a stain on the surface.
"The purpose is… entirely unclear. When they started hunting us, or—why they let us go even after defeating Akasha—none of it makes sense! But of one thing I am certain! Until that man is defeated, we have—no future!"
"…You're right…"
Not's rage-soaked, rough words were met with a quiet response from Sofia.
Her voice carried almost no force. Sofia slumped forward, pressing her palm to her forehead, propping herself on an elbow.
Up until now, the girl known as Sofia Black had never once broken her composed, courteous bearing.
Stunned by this sight—the first time he had ever seen her like this—Not watched as Sofia continued to murmur in small, fragmented words.
"…What went wrong? Just a little more, and Master's research would have been complete…"
"?? Sofi…a? What's wrong!?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Master. It was just a bit unexpected—"
Sofia lifted her head and straightened her posture, looking slightly embarrassed. By then, that extraordinary reaction had already disappeared.
She composed herself, cleared her throat once, and continued.
"Rest easy. We still have options. We have equipment left, and contacts above. …I've drawn up several plans."
Their research facility outside the capital had surely been destroyed by now. But equipment, items, and the like had been evacuated into the Space-Time Bag.
Documents summarizing their research findings, of course, along with rare catalysts used in magic, Treasure Weapons, and more. There were hidden safehouses that even the other disciples did not know about.
If all of these were used well and properly prepared, there would be a real chance of victory even against a Level 8 Hunter.
Neither magic nor physical attacks had worked last time, but that simply meant there were other approaches. They could attempt assassination. They could lay a trap.
He handed over a plan document. Sofia took it, but set it down on the table without reviewing it.
Then she let out a small sigh and bowed her head deeply over the teacup, her hair nearly dipping into it.
"I'm sorry, Master. This is all—my fault."
"…What are you… saying?"
"Thousand Transformations' target—is me. That's what they're saying. But I swear—I have never betrayed you."
Sofia raised her head and looked at Not, who could not grasp what was happening.
Her eyes were slowly filling with tears. As though begging for forgiveness, she continued.
"I have always respected you. Your magical skill and knowledge—once renowned enough to be called Sage—your relentless drive to seek forbidden knowledge despite holding a high position, only to be cast out for it, your tenacity and caution that allowed you to survive even that—every single thing about you. Research into the arcane requires a different kind of talent than magic alone. To possess both at such a high level makes you a genius. The other disciples were all exceptional as well… and Master—you had everything I lacked."
Her trembling voice was faint and fragile. If her voice had a physical shape, it would have been something as delicate and beautiful as snow.
Not steadied his breathing and moved his jaw.
"…Go on."
"Akasha and the Mana Material Stirring Apparatus were magnificent achievements. Had I built them alone, it would have required immense time, money, and risk. Here, there is expensive equipment, rare catalysts and materials, excellent researchers—everything at hand. And Master—you had the magnanimity to listen to the words of an unskilled newcomer like me. For the exiled Master to still be in the capital was incredibly fortunate for me."
It was a confession.
The content itself was nothing remarkable. Had her tone been her usual one, there would have been nothing unusual about any of it.
Not quietly gripped the cane leaning nearby. Sofia, seemingly oblivious to this, went on.
"If I could have had my way, I would have wanted to continue researching together a little longer."
"…Then keep going. It's not over yet."
"No… it is over. Master will… be branded the worst mage in history—guilty of committing taboos, driven to the brink by Thousand Transformations, having slaughtered all of his disciples before being captured… held prisoner by the Empire. Perhaps… we will never meet again."
Her tone was far too natural. Not studied Sofia's features carefully.
Her eyebrows angled inward. Her eyes, twisted with sorrow, combined with her refined features to make her look like the heroine of some tragedy. She appeared to be grieving from the very bottom of her heart.
"Sofia! You would have me—me—lose to that man!?"
Sofia was a researcher. Exceptional, but as a mage—her offensive magic was several levels below Not's.
Right now, Sofia had no cane, and even if she had one, her magic could never break through the resistance of Not, who far surpassed her.
As Not rose to his feet, his cheeks taut with fury, shouting at her, Sofia showed no sign of resisting.
She simply grabbed a fistful of her long hair and pulled it downward, hard. Then she went on.
"Thousand Transformations' purpose—is a warning. Not to Master, but to me. They're saying, 'It's dangerous, so stop here and come back.'"
"…?!"
The fiery, deep-red cascade of long hair slid away, pulled off by her own hand.
For an instant, Not thought her scalp had been exposed, but that was not the case.
Before his stunned eyes, the mass of hair fell onto the table.
What emerged from beneath was a pale pink-blonde bob, neatly trimmed—a completely different impression from the flashy red hair of moments ago, as though an entirely different person stood before him.
As Not stood frozen, mouth agape, Sofia picked up the fallen hair and said, somewhat bashfully.
"I really didn't want to show you, but… after so many years as your disciple, keeping this hidden would be too dishonest…"
"Years… you were hiding this the whole time… Why would you do something like—"
"Well… if it were discovered, it would be a huge problem. If I received a second 'Penalty'—even if Klye forgave me, the Explorer's Guild wouldn't. I might really lose my Hunter status for good this time… I absolutely cannot allow that."
Blinking, Sofia wore an expression of troubled discomfort.
At those words, Not shot to his feet on reflex, thrusting the concealed cane toward Sofia as if to menace her.
It was a shock as though struck by lightning.
His cheeks, his hands, his feet—all trembled. Whether from anger at having been deceived, or from fear, even Not himself could not tell.
Until now, all of Not's disciples had been exiled mages. Those rare talents, unable to find a place in the world, who had chosen to abandon society and pursue truth through their desire and misfortune—a breed of madmen, every one.
He had thought this top disciple was one of that sort. She had not yet become a criminal on the surface, but only because she had met him first and hidden herself in the shadows. Clearly, Sofia's sensibilities were not of the kind tolerated in polite society.
Since Not himself had been operating in the capital's underworld, he knew the information on named Hunters.
Among them, there had been one who stood out as peculiarly distinct.
In a certain major incident, a high-Level Hunter who had been named the prime suspect based solely on circumstantial evidence. They had received a Level Down penalty and been forcibly branded with a dishonorable epithet.
A Level Down was the harshest penalty defined by the Explorer's Guild—lowering a Hunter's Level to an impossible negative value.
Committing a serious enough crime could get you expelled from the Explorer's Guild entirely. A few failed commissions would not earn a Level Down. Because of its rarity, the penalty was itself a mark of a person of concern.
The fall of a young prodigy had been a major topic of conversation in the capital at the time. In the end, the evidence had been insufficient and no charges were brought, and the name faded from public memory—but those who remembered, remembered.
"Penalty… a Hunter—a mage—Sofia is an alias!? I know—I recall! Three years ago, the mass breakout at the South Isteria Great Prison—an accomplice in that incident, her Level was dropped to negative—"
"As expected of you, Master, your erudition is truly impressive. See, I'm glad I kept it hidden after all…"
Sofia smiled sadly. Her appearance did not at all seem like someone who would bear such an epithet.
But the behavior he had observed in Sofia up to now matched that name perfectly.
"You are—the Worst of the Worst!?"
"I really hate being called that."
As Not spat those words, the person who had been Sofia shrugged her shoulders.
That casual gesture and her words confirmed Not's suspicion.
The Worst of the Worst.
A member of the Mourning Specter.
"Citry Smart… you were… the mole!?"
"No… so you see, it's not what you think. I became your disciple for my own reasons alone. Klye and the others have nothing to do with it—I told them nothing. And besides… that horrible epithet was mine until today, too."
Citry pressed her palms together as though offering a blessing, and said: "The Worst of the Worst—starting today, that title is yours, Master."