Searching For Andromeda 79 Skip! This! Chapter!

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Goldenf.a.g and Folkmanor are both philosophers that created the same fictional world—their theories revolved around similar monsters, countries, and even the same approach in their texts.

But one thing was clearly different about them. Goldenf.a.g's theories and Folkmanor's completely oppose each other, like night and day. And they weren't equals. Goldenf.a.g was less favored, whilst Folkmanor was deemed perfect. And that was what made the two of them stand out. They were complete opposites, yet two intellectuals that had rivaled since Magierstadt was established.

"Goldenf.a.g was less favored than Folkmanor. They said he wasn't thinking straight. He said everyone can be a mage."

"Huh? Everyone? How?"

"I don't know, his blasphemous theory led to his books be burnt… except with some, we are studying today, of course; anyways, I believe anyone can be a mage. I agree with Goldenf.a.g. Although maybe the mana of commoners is considered little or rather, lacking… compared to n.o.bles, I believe that there is something… something that maybe fills that gap—I don't know; all of it was gone, all his theories and afterthoughts. It really p.i.s.ses me off."

Studying these two philosophers comes in the education of children at the age of 9. It was what one called "fundamental" and "basic." Most n.o.bles forgot about the lessons, but the names of these two philosophers had resonated with the minds of those who prevail. Faustina was late in these studies. Eula was able to provide her basic histories, but not the proper education.

Goldenf.a.g and Folkmanor were still fresh in her mind, thanks to Orwell's teachings.

And she got a gut feeling that it'll help her—no, it will help them later.

The strategy that was proposed to them was to divide the group into three. The first group (Team A) would lure the trolls into the dead end, the second group (Team B) would trail behind stealthily and wait for an opening, whilst the third group (Team C) would decode the riddles and decipher whatever the secret hidden on the four doors.

It was a simple plan, but carrying it to action would require much more work. The third group would have to be elites with brilliant minds, whilst the second and first team would have to be athletic and strong.

"Miss Feuerlon comes from a household that teaches exemplary education,"

Faustina blinked.

"I think it would be wise if we put her into the third team."

Faustina glanced at the people around her. The third team would have to be elites that possess both intellect and skill. Is she qualified? Her? Decoding something complicated?

The third team's time is basically limited—and that would be decided if both teams A and B would be successful enough to drive the cyclops into the dead end. If not, then . . .

"We only have about ten minutes or less to decode if the plan would fail," Ruka, Team C's team leader, says. "And I've given us the maximum time. It's approximate, and that's the highest value I could give given the circ.u.mstances."

Faustina thinned her lips as she watches the group discuss the possible moves they ought to do. Her palms were sweaty and she had gulped about four times already in the span of two minutes. Faustina's heartbeat was echoing in her head, but she couldn't care less. She was too preoccupied with her thoughts to even notice.

The king would expect her to pa.s.s and carry her mission. Orwell had praised her several times and believed she was going to head straight to Ianua I.

—

"You are too weak," Sheila says, and then she hit her again. Faustina felt her other cheek redden with pain.

"You are too dependent. You could not even decide on your own." Sheila gnarled. "I hate people like you."

Faustina stared right into Sheila's eyes. She could not move.

"You? You will be sustaining the king's life?" The staff's hilt hit the ground, and the magic circle glew. It illuminated Sheila, and the ruby on the staff slowly brightened. Sheila pointed the staff to Faustina, who was frozen on the spot.

—

Sheila narrowed her eyes. "I am a clairvoyant. I foretell fortune. I am a bearer of a prophecy. In your current stance, I can see no future. I can only see the void. There is nothing for you here. Albeit you are a carrier of the Heilen blood or whatever you possess, your traits are too weak. You are too weak."

—

"Do your best," Orwell said. "And don't just stand there! The doors are opened. You have a mission!"

Faustina nodded. "Yes!" and then scurried off to the large, opened doors of the academy.

"Your mission!" Orwell shouts, "is to learn!"

Faustina turned and then gave Orwell a grin before she ran inside the academy with her silhouette disappearing to the light.

—

"I believe in you. I know you can make it through Ianua I."

—

"You can do it, M'lady!"

—

"My child, my Faustina. I know you can do it. But please, don't strain yourself, alright?"

—

"You are taught by the great Orwell of Lotheringwood. How can you fail?"

"You have a tremendous amount of mana—and you are of the Heilen origin. You have a hidden potential that you do not know yourself. You have to believe that you have that in you, and that's how you can cultivate your power, Faustina!"

—

"Do you understand me, Faustina? You will need to be wary. You are found by the clairvoyants—no, more specifically—I found you. It was a matter of time when we finally knew your location—when Eulalia Fortunatorum's concealing magic completely disappeared. The first king does not want Nightmare to disappear; you might be the probable cure to this curse, and he, along with Sheila, will not let it happen."

"What must I do, Your Majesty?"

"Fulfill your duty. I will help you retrieve the body of your master," the king says. "And we will bring the Forsaken into justice."

—

"You must not adhere to the prophecy. . . You have to sustain the king's life . . ."

—

Faustina took a deep breath.

"So what do you say, Ms. Feuerlon?" Asked Ruka.

Faustina nodded.

"I'm in."