News of Desmond Wyndale’s attempted murder of a professor quickly spread like wildfire.
The consequences were severe. Desmond was expelled, blacklisted from every academic institution, and sent to prison.
But the rumors didn’t stop there.
Aristocratic families who had grudges against the Wyndales didn’t want to miss the opportunity.
They further expanded on the narrative, claiming Desmond had been practicing dark magic, just like his father.
Others claimed his father pulled some strings and was behind the attack.
Some even suggested the Wyndales had been plotting against the empire after their fall from Duke status.
None of these claims had any proof, but that didn’t matter. The saying, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” played a part in their punishment.
However, the Council of Aetherion weren’t fools. They didn’t blindly accept such baseless claims, even against someone with the Wyndale name.
But at the same time, they weren’t quick to dismiss them either.
Just like his father, Desmond was sentenced to confinement in Index.
WHIII—
Using a warp hole reserved for government officials, he was transported directly to Index.
Scrunch. Scrunch.
As he stepped out of the portal, the cold hit him immediately, chilling him to the bone.
He adjusted his gloves and tightened his scarf as he surveyed the bleak surroundings.
The sun hung in the sky, but its light was pale white. The sky, which should have been an ocean blue, was an oppressive shade of gray.
A perfect weather.
“Welcome to Index. I suppose you must be Professor Vanitas Astrea,” one of the guards said, stepping forward.
“Indeed,” Vanitas responded.
The guard nodded but held up a hand. “Apologies, Professor, but for precautionary measures, I’ll need to see your ID.”
Vanitas reached into his coat and pulled out a sleek black card. The guard inspected it carefully and held it up to a glowing crystal device that confirmed its authenticity.
Satisfied, the guard handed it back.
“Thank you. One more step, please sign the logbook,” the guard said, motioning toward a logbook mounted near the gate. “We need to keep a record of everyone who visits or leaves.”
“Okay.”
Vanitas nodded his head and complied.
Approaching the logbook, his gloved fingers moved quickly to input his signature.
“Done,” Vanitas said and stepped back.
The guards conducted a brief inspection after that, patting him down to check for any hidden items.
Finding nothing suspicious, they stepped aside.
“Follow me, Professor. The warden is expecting you.”
Vanitas followed the guard through the massive gates. The cold seemed even more intense inside.
Eventually, they came to a stop in front of a large, reinforced door. The guard raised his hand and knocked twice.
To– Tok. To– Tok.
The sound reverberated against the stone walls before the door slid open with a low rumble.
Inside stood the warden. Vanitas adjusted his spectacles, poured in mana, and scanned.
———「Name: Alaric Eltrine」———
◆ Age: 37
◆ Stigmata: Phantom
◆ Sword Art Discovered:
—Astral Rend: Grandmaster
—Void Requiem: Intermediate
————————————
“….”
While Vanitas had the choice whether to cooperate in the investigation, given the circumstances, ultimately, he chose to cooperate in the end.
“Professor,” Alaric began. “Thank you for coming all the way here.”
Vanitas nodded. “It’s my pleasure, Warden. I assume you’ve already reviewed the case?”
“I have. We’ve ruled out the possibility that you were targeted randomly. That said, I must ask, Professor, do you believe there’s more to this than what we’ve uncovered so far?”
“….”
Vanitas remained calm, keeping his expressions unreadable.
Alaric was as sharp as always, but Vanitas had expected this line of questioning.
He found it bothersome that his name was involved in the Wyndales’ mess.
Still, the rewards of the Special Act made it worthwhile.
“What makes you think I’d know anything?” Vanitas asked.
“We’ve interrogated Desmond, but he refuses to cooperate. He insists he’ll only speak to you.”
“Is that so?”
It made sense now why he’d been summoned for questioning.
“I don’t know what he intends to tell you, but he’s been adamant. Will you speak with him?”
Vanitas adjusted his gloves and nodded. “I’ll hear what he has to say. Lead the way.”
Alaric gestured to the guards, who opened a reinforced door leading deeper into the prison. Vanitas followed closely from behind.
Since Desmond’s crime wasn’t as severe as those committed by the other inmates confined here, he was held in a less restrictive area.
They stopped in front of a simpler but heavily-locked cell.
Clink—
A guard unlocked it with a clink. The door creaked open to reveal Desmond Wyndale seated at a plain metal table.
His wrists were shackled with glowing cuffs that flickered with suppression magic.
He looked up as Vanitas stepped in.
“….Professor,” he murmured.
“….”
Vanitas said nothing at first, looking down at him with a gaze that screamed insignificance.
“If you need anything, Professor, simply call. I’ll remain outside,” Alaric informed.
“Understood.”
Alaric turned to the guards, who stepped back with him.
Thud!
The door shut with a heavy thud, leaving Vanitas and Desmond alone under the watchful eyes of the prison’s surveillance enchantments.
There was a chair in front of Desmond, but Vanitas chose to remain standing.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Quick chanting,” Desmond began. “….That’s your stigmata isn’t it?”
“….”
Vanitas paused once again, keeping his expressions blank. Clearly, Desmond was trying to elicit a reaction out of him.
Too bad.
He was off the mark.
“Wrong.”
Desmond shrugged. “Worth a shot.”
“If you’re going to waste my time,” Vanitas paused, fixing his gaze down on Desmond’s pants. “Then I’ll leave.”
“….!”
Desmond flinched instinctively. His hands darted to cover his lower half, face reddening with a mix of embarrassment and anger as he glared up at Vanitas.
“Fucking pervert!”
“Shitty brat.”
Vanitas turned on his heel, heading for the door. But just as his hand reached the handle, Desmond’s voice stopped him.
“My father’s arrest,” he said. “You’re the one behind it, aren’t you?”
“….”
Vanitas’s hand paused mid-air. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder.
“What makes you think that?”
“You visited our home,” Desmond said. “You must’ve done something. I don’t know how, but you planted that evidence in his office, didn’t you?”
A smirk tugged at Desmond’s lips as he leaned back in his chair. In his mind, he had Vanitas cornered.
Why else would an uninvolved man suddenly find himself tangled in the Wyndale case?
But the smirk faded the moment Vanitas spoke.
“Is that it?” he said. “That’s your basis?”
Desmond faltered, but quickly tried to regain his composure.
“It’s obvious. You—”
“Now tell me,” Vanitas interrupted. “What did the servants say? What were their statements about that day?”
“….”
Desmond froze. His smirk vanished entirely, and his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out.
He knew what had been said when the Crusade Order questioned the estate’s servants. Every single one of them had claimed the same thing.
‘The Lord’s office is completely inaccessible to anyone.’
And they weren’t lying.
The barrier protecting the office was at least Grandmaster–level. For commoner servants with no magic education, even attempting to open it would have been impossible.
The silence stretched. Vanitas didn’t move, nor did he look away.
His question alone had dismantled any attempts Desmond had to corner him.
After a long pause, Vanitas finally turned and opened the door.
“Wasted my time for this,” he muttered.
Then, just as he stepped through the door, he added, without looking back.
“And for Arwen….”
“….”
“….It was unfortunate,” Vanitas said.
“….!”
Desmond’s eyes widened in shock, and his face twisted with rage.
He shot to his feet. The chains on his wrists rattled violently as he lunged forward.
“You motherfucker!”
But the glowing cuffs held him back and locked him in place.
“Get back here—Akh! Fuck…!”
Desmond strained against them as he shouted a bunch of explicit curses.
The time his screams echoed through the room, Vanitas was already gone. The door closed behind him with a heavy thud.
“All done, Professor?” Alaric asked, standing nearby.
“He just wasted everyone’s time.”
“I heard,” Alaric said with a smirk. “Seems like there’s some personal vendetta. But don’t worry, Professor. He’ll remain here for a long time.”
“Good,” Vanitas nodded his head.
Vanitas was then brought to a separate room, where the Warden, Alaric, questioned him regarding his involvement.
*
After a long one hour, the questioning finally ended. Vanitas navigated through the questions carefully, trying to make sure everything aligned.
But the matter was settled.
His action of visiting the Wyndale’s mansion was due to Desmond’s behavior in the University.
That was it. Even the servants made the same statement.
“Thank you very much for your cooperation, Professor,” Alaric said.
“It’s my pleasure,” Vanitas said. “Anything to help the case.”
Then, glancing around for a brief second, Alaric returned his gaze to Vanitas.
“We don’t get authorized visits often. Care for a tour, Professor?
Vanitas raised an eyebrow. “A tour? Of Index?”
Alaric nodded. “It’s not every day someone like you is here. Besides, it might give you a better sense of what we’re dealing with.”
Vanitas considered for a moment before nodding again. “Very well. Lead the way.”
Alaric gestured for Vanitas to follow, and the two began walking deeper into the prison.
A slight smirk tugged at Vanitas’s lips.
———「Special Act: Index」———
「Rewards:」
◆ Understanding: +20%
◆ Numen’s Azure Shard
————————————
There it was.
The Act trigger.
Special acts. Quite different from Event Acts, which happen by chance,
Special Acts had specific conditions that needed to be fulfilled, and they carried a much higher risk of failure.
If a maximum–difficulty Event Act was grueling, a Special Act far surpassed that.
Even Chae Eun–woo, with all his years of experience in the game, had failed Special Acts more times than he cared to admit, no matter how many times he replayed them.
But the Index Special Act?
He had failed more times than he could count.
According to statistics shared by veteran players on the community page, only 10% of all players had ever successfully completed the Index Special Act.
And Chae Eun-woo, unfortunately, was not among them.
But now, coming from a different perspective, he wanted to see if he could finally do it.
It was the main reason why Chae Eun–woo chose to cooperate in the investigation.
To be granted access to visit Index.
Essentially, the act itself had no connection to the Wyndales at all.
Far from it.
Beneath the frozen fortress of Index lay the worst of the worst criminals. And buried even deeper, was the most dangerous of them all.
Mikhail Aubert.
Once revered as one of the Great Powers, Mikhail’s fall from grace was as infamous as his name.
He was imprisoned after murdering a fellow Great Power. Upon his capture, he was castrated off his mana core, and was sentenced to life imprisonment in Index.
Execution was an option, but they chose not to take it.
The knowledge a Great Power possessed was far too valuable to waste.
“Recognized any familiar names, Professor?” Alaric asked.
If the Mage Killer, Aldred, hadn’t been killed, he would’ve been detained here too.
“Yes,” Vanitas nodded.
Vanitas glanced at the cells on either side. While Mikhail wasn’t being held here, a few faces caught Vanitas’s attention.
“That’s Edric Nox, isn’t it?” Vanitas asked. “The one who poisoned an entire city’s water supply just to settle a personal grudge.”
“Indeed,” Alaric confirmed. “Took them weeks to clean it up. Over 500 dead.”
They continued walking. Vanitas’s gaze fell on another cell, where a haggard woman sat, staring blankly at the floor.
“Verena Moraeu” he murmured. “She assassinated a royal council, didn’t she?”
“Every single member,” Alaric said. “All for a failed coup.”
Vanitas’s eyes moved again, briefly catching glimpses of other inmates.
Names flashed in the Spectacles. To think he had also recorded such details after scouring through the game’s wiki page.
Kieran Draeve—A rogue mage who unleashed a mana storm that destroyed an entire town.
Thessa Vannir—A summoner who sold her summoned creatures to destroy villages.
So on and so forth.
It was akin to a zoo.
Vanitas thought it was the right opportunity to ask.
“Mikhail Aubert,” he said. “I heard he was confined deep below.”
Alaric nodded. “That’s correct. He’s in the lowest level of Index.”
He paused, glancing at Vanitas with a curious expression.
“Is it fine if I ask him a question?” Vanitas asked.
Alaric’s brows raised for a moment. He hesitated first before responding.
“Typically, it’s not allowed to visit him. But considering your status, Professor, I guess it’s fine.”
Alaric stepped forward, and gestured ahead.
“Follow me.”
Vanitas nodded his head and followed Alaric.
In the game, no matter how the character was designed, the player always started as a student. Meeting Mikhail this early on was impossible.
But Vanitas was no student.
His status alone made the Special Act easier.
But easy was still an understatement, considering what the Special Act entailed.
Tak. Tak. Tak.
The air grew colder as Alaric led Vanitas deeper into Index, the sound of their boots echoing faintly.
A faint glow of metal entered his peripheral vision as Vanitas checked something in his pocket.
Then, he glanced at an inmate and winked.
——The hell? You making fun of me, little girl!?
“Haha.”
Vanitas scoffed. Indeed, if one were to focus solely on his face, they might indeed find his features delicate—perhaps even cute.
Clank!
The inmate lunged toward the bars of his cell.
——Don’t you laugh at me, you little—
“Stay down, Edmund,” Alaric interrupted.
The inmate, Edmund, froze mid-motion, glaring at Alaric for a moment before slumping back into the cell.
“Please don’t provoke them too much, Profesor,” Alaric said.
“Apologies.”
As they continued walking, Alaric glanced at Vanitas.
“Just a warning, Professor,” he said. “Mikhail isn’t quite the man he was in the past.”
In other words, Mikhail Aubert had a few screws loose in the head.
But Vanitas already knew this. It was common knowledge among veteran players of the game.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Alaric stopped in front of a massive reinforced door.
Layers of magic circuits—barrier magic covered its surface. The steel itself seemed unnaturally dark, as though it absorbed the light around it.
“This is it,” Alaric said.
He nodded to a guard stationed nearby, who stepped forward and inserted a glowing crystal into a slot embedded in the wall.
The circuits flared brightly as the door groaned and began to open.
Inside was a large chamber. At the center of the room was a single cell, surrounded by a barrier.
Within the cell sat a man—motionless with his head bowed.
Mikhail Aubert.
It had to be said.
——Ah, shit. Alaric, my old friend! You came! You came! You fucking reta—
The Special Act Index.
“Don’t get too close, Professor.”
….Entailed the death of Mikhail.