The World of this Fantasy Novel is in Crisis

“I’m not hurt. Just a little tired.”

“Then rest in your room. It’s Sunday, so there aren’t any classes today. You can take it easy.”

“Really?”

“From Monday to Saturday, we have classes every day. From 9 a.m. to 12, then from 1 to 3.”

Holy crap, it’s a six-day school week. Satin struggled not to let his dismay show. Tim seemed completely unfazed by the fact that they had lessons six days a week.

“But you don’t have to attend the morning classes, Satin.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve supposedly already learned all of it…”

Tim trailed off, tilting his head in confusion.

“Or maybe you’ve forgotten it all by now?”

“Hmm, not sure. I’ll have to hear it to know.”

Once he was done giving a tour of the school, Tim said he was going to play with the other kids in the courtyard and left. Satin headed upstairs. He’d briefly stopped by his room earlier but hadn’t taken a proper look around.

The second floor was quiet. He didn’t run into a single person as he walked down the hall. Maybe all the kids were outside. He thought he’d sensed someone in the library—the one room he’d only peeked into before—so perhaps a few were in there.

He opened the door, which didn’t have a lock, and stepped inside. The room looked exactly like a dormitory.

Two beds, two wardrobes, two desks, two chairs. Which one was his?

After a brief deliberation, Satin sat on the left bed. It was neatly made. ㅇㅇ had been a fairly tidy person, too.

But barely a moment had passed before Cain walked in and scowled.

“Why are you sitting on someone else’s bed?”

His tone wasn’t curious—it was irritated. Satin quickly stood up and moved to the bed on the opposite side. Judging from the messy blankets, it seemed the original Satin had a personality quite different from ㅇㅇ.

“Fuzzball said to give you this.”

Cain placed a plate on Satin’s desk. It had a sandwich on it.

“Oh, thanks.”

Cain didn’t respond to the thanks. Apparently, Satin and Cain hadn’t been particularly close.

As he nibbled on the sandwich, Satin stole a glance at Cain.

Why did Noona like the villain more than the protagonist?

There was no changing it now—he was already Satin—but the question lingered. Usually, people favored the protagonist the most, didn’t they? Sure, readers could have a thing for specific characters, but authors typically wrote stories around the ones they were most attached to.

Anyway, what mattered now wasn’t Noona’s taste but the direction of the plot. He’d only skimmed through parts two and three via spoilers, but he’d read all of part one.

If we’re going by part one, he’s the one who kills me.

The story began when Cain turned twenty. But it said he’d first been captured by a cruel dark mage when he was sixteen.

There wasn’t anything about him being held for over a year, so that means he’s sixteen now.

Which meant Satin’s days were numbered. Four years, tops. Maybe less.

I guess it’s safer to go along with the plot?

If he hadn’t known the plot of Dark Age, that’d be one thing—but he did. It wasn’t like this was some random novel either—it was Noona’s masterpiece. Sure, he’d stopped reading halfway because of a rash decision, but still.

Four years is a long time.

It’s enough to go from high school graduation to college graduation. ㅇㅇ never had dreams of living a long life anyway. What was the point without Noona? But if he could become a piece that helped complete her masterpiece, then it would be a meaningful life.

In the story, Cain despised dark mages, while Satin set out to avenge one. In other words, they stood on opposite sides.

So there’s no need for us to get along.

In fact, staying unfriendly might actually help Cain.

Despite not being able to read Satin’s thoughts, Cain clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Why are you staring at the back of my head like a creep?”

Apparently, Cain also had no interest in getting along. Without replying, Satin quietly gathered the plate and stepped out of the room.

“Satin, is it true you lost your memory?”

Just then, a girl bounding up the stairs spotted him and came hopping over, blurting out the question. Satin figured she’d heard it from Tim, so he wasn’t surprised. He gave her a small nod.

“That’s how it is. So anyway, what’s your name?”

“I’m Heather. So does that mean you’ll be joining us for morning classes now, Satin?”

Heather looked to be around the same age as Tim. But she spoke casually without hesitation. It seemed this world had more Western-style friendships, where formality between peers wasn’t the norm.

Satin didn’t think too deeply about it and responded casually.

“Hmm, maybe. Could be.”

“Did you talk to Cain?”

“Kinda?”

Maybe it was because there weren’t many kids, but everyone seemed to know exactly who roomed with whom.

Heather’s expression turned curious, almost amused.

“You two didn’t get along.”

“Really?”

“Did you tell him about the memory loss?”

“No. Didn’t really seem like the right vibe.”

“Well, Cain doesn’t really like the teacher, so it makes sense.”

“I see.”

Nodding, Satin worked through the information in his head.

Heather spoke as if Cain’s dislike of the teacher was directly tied to his dislike of Satin. Did that mean Satin had been close with the teacher—maybe even liked them? That would explain Cain’s attitude.

But if that were the case, then why had Satin been locked up in the underground reflection room?

“Heather, do you know why I was in the reflection room?”

“The reflection room?”

“The one in the basement.”

“Oh, you mean the penance room?”

Whether it was “reflection” or “penance,” the meaning was more or less the same.

Heather continued, speaking like it was no big deal.

“From what I heard, Satin didn’t listen to the teacher. Satin used to help with their research all the time, you know.”

Did that mean he disobeyed during one of those sessions? Refused an order?

As Satin tilted his head in confusion, Heather shrugged.

“I don’t really know either. You were the only one who knew anything about the teacher’s research.”

***

Dropping by the kitchen to return the plate, Satin couldn’t help but mutter, “Figures.”

The cook, Rufus, had a wild, bushy beard, and his hands and forearms were covered in thick hair. “Fuzzball” was a nickname that fit him to a tee.

“You do your reflecting?”

Maybe they’d always been on familiar terms—Rufus grinned the moment their eyes met and asked with a chuckle.

Satin gave a sheepish smile and sat down on a chair by the kitchen entrance. It looked like Rufus’s break chair, but it was empty since Rufus was busy polishing a pot.

“Do you know what I did to end up in the penance room?”

“Just what the kids have been saying.”

“What did they say?”

“That you got punished for not listening to the old geezer.”

Satin rubbed his chin. What exactly had he refused to do that had gotten him thrown in there?

“If the old geezer locked you up, of all people, he must’ve been seriously pissed.”

Rufus, like Heather, seemed to believe Satin had had a good relationship with the teacher.

“What could’ve happened that was so serious?”

“Beats me. I’d really like to know that too.”

“It’s your business. If you don’t know, who would?”

“I don’t remember.”

“…What?”

Rufus blinked, still holding the pot. His frame wasn’t particularly large, but his forearms were huge—one punch from him and you’d probably hear something snap. Satin crossed his arms and looked away, pretending he wasn’t intimidated.

“Guess you haven’t heard that from the others yet.”

“You messing with me? That some kinda joke kids tell nowadays?”

“It’s not a joke. It’s the truth. I woke up in the penance room bed, and I had no idea where I was. Didn’t even know my own name…”

He deliberately let his voice trail off, sneaking a glance at Rufus’s face. The man looked stunned, mouth slightly agape. Completely different from the teacher’s reaction.

Why is that?

When Satin told the teacher he didn’t remember anything, they narrowed their eyes and stared at his face, like they were trying to catch a lie.

Rufus, on the other hand, wasn’t analyzing him. He just looked genuinely shocked and dumbfounded.

Satin gave a half-awkward smile.

“Yeah, it’s weird, huh. I don’t know what the hell’s going on either.”

It was a little embarrassing, honestly. Amnesia? It sounded like the kind of gimmick a wannabe protagonist would make up.

Rufus’s expression slowly returned to normal. He seemed to calm down a bit, and asked with concern:

“Maybe you ended up like this while messing around with some weird experiment with that old geezer.”

“Who knows.”

“You hurt anywhere? I heard a good knock to the head can mess with your memory.”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t remember a single thing about what happened before yesterday.”

“Seriously, those damn mages…”

“I was a mage too?”

“No, you were…”

Rufus started to answer, then tilted his head in thought.

“Never saw you use magic, but I heard you had potential. Probably why the old geezer kept you around.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, if you’ve lost all your memories, I guess you don’t know the important warnings either.”

“Warnings? Tim gave me a tour around the place…”

Satin started recalling rules about laundry rooms and bathing schedules when Rufus clicked his tongue lightly.

“I mean don’t go wandering into the forest.”

“The forest?”

“You step off the path even once, you’re as good as dead. Deep forests like these swallow people whole.”

Satin couldn’t tell if that was a spooky myth or a real threat.

As he stood there unsure how to react, Rufus suddenly burst out laughing.

“Scared ya?”

“That was a joke?”

“Half a joke, but the danger’s real—so don’t go into the woods.”

“Got it.”

“Still don’t get why the old geezer built a school out here. It’s not like it’s a prison.”

After chatting with Rufus a bit more, Satin left the kitchen. He paused for a moment to consider where to go next, then decided on the library. It just so happened to be nearby.

Didn’t they say the library was a later addition?

Maybe that’s why it was tucked away in such an odd spot—at the far end of the east hallway, past the dining hall and kitchen. There were stairs going down to the basement at the opposite end, so maybe they had no other choice.

Satin gently pushed the door open and stepped inside. He could sense faint signs of presence inside.