It had to be said, all professors were scholars and part of the Scholars Institute, but not all scholars were professors.
It was rare for professors, researchers, and elders to gather in one place. Moreover, similar gatherings were happening in several locations across the empire to disseminate the facts regarding the Red Moon of Autumn.
“Oh? So this is Professor Vanitas Astrea?”
“Yes, this is him.” Elder Tristan nodded and gestured for Vanitas to take a seat.
The scholar before him seemed to be close with Elder Tristan but hadn’t been present during Vanitas’ thesis defense.
“Professor Astrea, this is Scholar Zane Yro.”
“….”
Vanitas’ eyebrows rose at the name.
“Zane Yro…?” He recognized it immediately.
“Oh? It seems you’ve heard of me.”
“Of course. The mage who developed and introduced the Intermediate Spell—Windfall over two decades ago. It’s an honor to meet you,” Vanitas said.
“Haha~” Zane Yro chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s been years since anyone’s brought that up. You must have done your research.”
Vanitas shook his head. “Hardly. Your work on spell optimization was a mandatory study in advanced elemental magic courses. Any mage studying the Zephyr essence would know your name.”
Elder Tristan smiled at their exchange. “Zane has been deeply involved in the Institute’s research division. He recently returned from an extended study abroad.”
“Is that so?” Vanitas turned to Zane. “Then I suppose I’m fortunate to have been sent to Amesticross.”
Zane smirked. “In that case, I could say the same about meeting the rising genius himself. Vanitas Astrea, your thesis has stolen the spotlight, you know?”
Several theses had been published after Vanitas’s, yet none had gained significant attention.
The lack of recognition had resulted in substantial losses for those who had invested in their research. As a result, many scholars had begun advising against publishing new theses until the Astrea Magic Worldview hype died down.
As the conversation continued, the topic gradually shifted.
“Now, about the Red Moon,” Elder Tristan said, his tone turning serious. “Have you heard? There seems to be a connection to the Araxys.”
“Araxys?” Zane asked. “Are you referring to the catacomb? Or the Black Dragon itself?”
“No, the other one.”
“Ah.”
The name Araxys carried multiple meanings, which often led to confusion.
The Araxys Catacomb was a well-known historical site, while Araxys was also the name given to the Black Dragon in modern times.
However, there was a third meaning.
Araxys was also the name of a certain radical faction. However, their existence was difficult to prove.
Those within certain circles acknowledged them, but to the general public, they remained nothing more than a rumor.
Without concrete evidence, discussing them openly was akin to spreading conspiracy theories, or shifting the blame to a third party due to incompetence.
And as with all conspiracies, rumors of their influence circulated, but few truly believed in their existence.
To most people, Araxys was nothing more than a myth.
“What’s their involvement in all this?” Vanitas asked, curious.
This was the first he had ever heard of this. In the game, during the first Red Moon event, the player was still a student. The narrative never led them to the front lines until much later in the mid-game.
Naturally, Vanitas had no knowledge of Araxys’s involvement in the first Red Moon event.
However, what he did know was that a tragedy had occurred at the eastern border—Helmut.
“Professor Vanitas, have you heard of the term Chimera?”
“Chimera….” Vanitas murmured, feigning uncertainty. “I can’t say I have.”
In truth, he had.
In the game, Chimeras were infamously troublesome monsters that yielded no experience points. Their sole purpose seemed to be frustrating players.
When the Chimera Update launched, it had sparked massive backlash from the community. Players despised them for their unpredictability, high durability, and the fact that defeating them yielded no tangible rewards.
The developers had attempted to justify their inclusion as an important narrative element, but it did little to quell the outrage.
Of course, Chae Eun-woo hadn’t been playing at the time, but he had heard enough about the controversy to know how much players despised them.
“Chimeras,” Elder Tristan continued. “To put it simply, they are creatures composed of cells from two different sources.”
Vanitas remained silent, letting the elder explain further.
“In natural biology, chimerism can occur when an organism carries genetic material from more than one individual. It’s rare, but not impossible. However, the Chimeras we speak of.… they are manufactured.”
Zane leaned forward. “Living weapons. Organisms forcibly fused together through alchemical and magical means. They are abominations stitched together from various creatures.”
Vanitas frowned. In the game, Chimeras had been difficult to fight due to their unnatural regeneration and erratic behavior.
“So how does this relate to Araxys?”
“Demons, professor. There’s been reports of monsters with traces of black magic.”
“So you’re saying….”
“Yes.” Elder Tristan nodded. “By conjecture, it seems as if demon blood is being used to make chimeras.”
“….”
Vanitas’s expression darkened.
If that were true, it explained why the first Chimera the player encountered in the game had dark magic. But this was new information.
That meant, at this point in the narrative, even scholars weren’t that knowledgeable about chimeras yet.
Because he knew these chimera creatures were only the tip of the iceberg.
….The demon blood was also being injected in these dark mages as well.
* * *
There was no real way to stop whatever Araxys was planning.
It seemed they intended to take advantage of the chaos to secure a steady supply of demon blood during the Red Moon
And there was no way to prevent that.
Demons had to be killed, after all.
Not even the Sword Saint or the Archmage, Soliette could stop it.
At best, information could only be disseminated for two to three days, depending on how skilled the scholar was. If delayed, they had just that much time to properly inform the knights and mages assigned to the frontlines.
Vanitas turned to the gathered knights and mages. “Any questions?”
His gaze, however, remained fixed on Adrienne.
When no one spoke, he continued, “If not, then I’ll be the one asking.”
“….”
The knights tensed. Vanitas briefly glanced around before settling his eyes on Adrienne.
“You. Miss Grimreaper.”
Adrienne blinked before pointing at herself. “Me?”
“Yes.” Vanitas crossed his arms. “How many Grimreapers have been deployed to this border?”
Adrienne tilted her head slightly. “Ah, I thought you were going to ask about the lecture.”
She paused, then answered.
“Twelve Grimreapers are stationed here. Across all borders, a total of seventy-two have been deployed.”
“I see.” Vanitas rubbed his chin. “And your unit? Why are you spread out?”
“Unit 07 is…. a bit different. We all perform better solo,” Adrienne replied. “I was assigned here.”
“Assigned?” Vanitas raised a brow. “You don’t sound too certain.”
Adrienne shrugged. “That’s what the orders said.”
Vanitas eyed her for a moment before nodding. “Alright.”
Then, he shifted his attention to another person.
“You.”
Margaret stiffened. “Y-Yes?”
“How many eclipses occur during the Red Moon?”
“What a difference in treatment….” she muttered under her breath before clearing her throat. “Ahem. Seven—”
“Wrong.” Vanitas cut her off. “I’ve already explained this before.”
“A-ah…. I must’ve missed it.”
“I don’t like repeating myself. So listen carefully. Seven is the preconceived notion, but there’s something everyone has overlooked.”
The room fell silent as he continued.
“Yes, seven eclipses are recorded. That much is true—if you only count the visible ones.”
Margaret’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait.… are you saying—?”
“Thirteen.” Vanitas nodded. “In total, thirteen eclipses occur during the Red Moon. Seven are visible. Six are not.”
A hand went up.
Vanitas turned toward the source. “What is it, Karina?”
“If I may explain, Professor.”
“….”
Vanitas raised a brow, momentarily surprised by Karina’s initiative. Then, he gave a small nod.
“Alright. Go ahead.”
Karina cleared her throat. “Ahem. The six hidden eclipses occur outside our field of vision, either when the moon is completely obscured or in areas where its light doesn’t reach. The atmospheric distortions caused by the Red Moon make them undetectable to the naked eye.”
Margaret’s face darkened. “So.… the Red Moon lasts longer than we thought?”
Vanitas nodded. “Exactly. The seven-eclipse cycle only accounts for what we can observe. But in reality, the Red Moon’s influence extends far beyond that.”
Indeed, if the Red Moon lasted longer than originally believed, then every single strategy based on the seven-eclipse cycle was flawed.
Vanitas scanned the room. “Now you’re starting to understand.”
A shift had taken place.
Earlier, he could tell most of them had little interest in his lecture, probably with the belief that it was just another briefing.
But now?
Now, he had their full attention.
“Now, are you actually going to listen to me, or not?”
It had to be said—at this point in the narrative, no one knew about this.
The information only existed within the Spectacle’s archives, backed by facts and evidence from the lore itself.
In other words, it was something Chae Eun-woo had simply copy-pasted from the game’s fandom wiki page back then.
* * *
Naturally, when conflicting information surfaced, mixed arguments began to arise.
And, as expected, all fingers pointed to Vanitas Astrea—the one who had presented this unheard-of information, which had only just been elaborated to the knights and mages under his charge.
——Are we really supposed to take his word for it?
——If this is true, then why hasn’t the Empire acknowledged it?
Vanitas exhaled, already expecting this kind of reaction.
He had just turned their understanding of the Red Moon upside down. Of course, they wouldn’t accept it so easily.
He hadn’t planned on revealing this at first. But after learning about Araxys’s involvement, he knew he had to do something.
“Professor, it’s not that I doubt you, but… how will you convince them?”
Vanitas didn’t look up, continuing to jot down notes from the information displayed on his spectacle as he spoke.
“With evidence.”
“….”
Karina’s worries weren’t unfounded.
Amesticross was filled with professors and scholars—many of whom had been studying the Red Moon long before Vanitas had even learned to walk.
Convincing them wouldn’t be easy.
And more than that, this information couldn’t just stay within their ranks. It had to be passed down to every border.
No—the entire world needed to know.
Thus, Vanitas wasted no time.
He began drafting research on the Thirteen Eclipse Cycle as fast as possible.
The sooner he could present tangible evidence, the harder it would be for anyone to refute him.
“That’s why I’m writing a formal research paper. If I present my findings the way they expect—structured, cited, and with supporting data—they’ll have no choice but to consider it.”
Karina hesitated. “Even if they do… will it be enough?”
“No.” Vanitas looked up, meeting her gaze. “That’s why I need to do more than just convince them. I need to prove it before the next Red Moon.”
Karina remained silent for a moment. Then, after a brief pause, she asked, “Do you need any help?”
“Get me a cup of coffee.”
“Okay.”
As Karina left to fetch the coffee, Vanitas continued writing. He had secured himself an isolated space within the fortress. Thankfully, they had an ample supply of paper for use.
Scritch. Scratch.
He filled the pages with notes, calculations, and references, compiling everything into a formal document.
[On the Extended Eclipse Cycle of the Red Moon
By: Vanitas Constantine Astrea
For centuries, the established understanding of the Red Moon cycle has been centered around seven recorded eclipses. However, multiple accounts and inconsistencies within historical records suggest the existence of additional, unrecognized eclipses….]
Scritch. Scratch.
* * *
The Northern, and the largest border of Aetherion.
Index.
The professors and scholars assigned to Index had completed their lectures and dissemination of information the day before.
They were preparing to leave when unexpected reinforcements from the Scholars Institute arrived—carrying new findings.
“Huh—?”
An elder furrowed his brows in confusion.
“What? So, we’re supposed to scrap everything now?”
“Yes, Elder Felix. These findings have been elaborated on by Elder Tristan and have been officially approved by the Scholars Institute. Please ensure this information is disseminated across Index.”
“What…?” Elder Felix could hardly believe what he was hearing.
He took the documents and skimmed through them. The content was absurd. He flipped through the pages, trying to process what he was reading.
“Elder Tristan validated this?”
“That’s correct.”
“Then…. who proposed this?” Felix scoffed, shaking his head. “Who in their right mind would come up with something like this?”
The scholar in front of him gestured to the bottom of the title page.
“The author’s name is listed there.”
Felix squinted, lowering his gaze.
“Vanitas Astrea?!”
——Vanitas Astrea?
A voice echoed behind them.
Turning around, they saw the warden, Alaric, approaching.
“Is Professor Vanitas here?” Alaric asked.
“Unfortunately, he isn’t, Warden,” the scholar replied.
Elder Felix glanced at Alaric. “You know who Vanitas Astrea is?”
Alaric let out a small chuckle. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He looked at Felix with a knowing expression.
“That man is the reason Index is still standing.”
* * *
Eastern Border of Aetherion
Helmut.
“This is….”
“Rubbish.” An elder slammed the document onto the table. “I can’t believe the Institute actually approved this. Have they lost their minds?”
To them, revising long-held beliefs was one thing. Academic theories were updated every year, after all.
But this?
It wasn’t just updating outdated information. This completely overturned everything they had accepted as fact.
Gambling the lives of soldiers on an unproven theory, one that had only been presented yesterday, was madness.
And they weren’t alone in thinking that. Many scholars, knights, and mages shared the same disbelief.
“This Thirteen Eclipse Theory. It contradicts centuries of established records!”
“Seven eclipses. That’s what we’ve always known. That’s what we’ve seen. And that’s what’s been built upon ever since the first study of the Red Moon.”
Helmut had always suffered the worst of the Red Moon each year.
Changing everything they believed wasn’t easy. Especially when it came with the risk of higher casualties.
For years, losses had been steadily decreasing with each Red Moon. They couldn’t just abandon their current strategies for an unproven theory.
Thus….
Crumple—
The thesis was discarded without a second thought.