Chapter 37
Chapter 4 – Magical Fluctuations (5)
December 26, 1920 — 4:40
We finally made it back to the hotel... finally.
The exhaustion of that near-death escape hit me all at once. The moment Lijedahl entered the room, she collapsed onto the bed with a long, heavy sigh.
"Will, I'm so tired."
"I'm tired too."
I imitated her, flopping onto the bed. I couldn't sleep, but the weariness was real and bone-deep.
I glanced sideways at her and found her looking at me.
We held that odd stare, like some childish contest to see who would blink first.
In the end, I lost and turned my face away.
"Haha, I win."
"You're not a child anymore."
I rubbed my eyes out of habit, but the fatigue still kept me from sleeping.
"Will, this time was far too dangerous. Those weapons called guns are terrifying—just a single hit from one of those things, and you're dead."
"Before we traveled through time, didn't you already see guns in my era? The ones there were even deadlier."
"Mm, but I never felt their threat so directly before."
"Compared to the things you've experienced, this shouldn't feel like much, right?"
"They're not on the same level, true... but the feeling is the same."
She buried her head against the pillow.
"Either way, it still means death. It makes my heart race with fear."
"..."
I thought for a moment. Probably best not to say more.
"By the way..."
She suddenly lifted her head and looked at me.
"When we were running for our lives earlier... didn't you directly call my name twice?"
Oh, hell. I had completely forgotten.
"So, even you can slip up. If Sean had noticed something strange, explaining it would've been a pain."
"Well... let's just hope he didn't notice."
"Hahaha."
She laughed softly, her smile gentle.
"What's funny?"
I asked, puzzled.
"Nothing. Just... teasing you is kind of fun."
"Uh..."
I had no idea what to say, so I turned my face away again.
"But, Will... if Frisse really is trapped in that basement, and things have already blown up this much, how are we going to rescue her?"
"... The Magic Association will definitely intervene. It's complicated. If it really comes to that, we might even have to go against the Magic Association."
"... If she were just locked somewhere, I could trace it. But a basement..."
I saw her expression fall and quickly tried to comfort her.
"Let the past stay in the past. Now that we know she might be in a basement, we can plan a proper rescue. For now... don't dwell on it. It's not something we can solve immediately."
Lijedahl gave me a complicated look, then, after a moment, her expression softened.
"Thank you."
"No problem. Do you want to talk about something else?"
She thought for a bit, then asked:
"Mm... Will, why is your English so good?"
I turned to look at her. Her eyes had shifted again—this time not yellow, but orange.
"You really do have a lot of eye colors."
"I don't get to choose, you know..."
She winked one eye shut and smiled at me.
"Uh, well. You asked why my English is so good... how else could I answer? I was a translator."
"Still, your English doesn't feel like something you learned later. I can tell. Take me, for example: I'm fluent, I can speak it, but I still have to think when I listen. But when you speak, it feels like a native tongue. There's a difference in the feel."
No one had ever analyzed me so closely before. I thought for a moment, then said:
"To put it less formally... in my time, kids in my country had to learn English from childhood. So by now, I've studied it for over twenty years. And on top of that, I trained as a professional interpreter. So naturally, I became fluent."
"Ah... why did your country have to learn English?"
"Well, it's like in your era—Europeans all studied Latin and used it as a common language. In my era, that universal language just became English."
"I see."
"My Latin, though, is terrible. If you speak it too fast, I'll eventually lose track."
"Hah, so you're just giving away your weaknesses now?"
"... Was that your goal all along?"
"No, I'm joking."
Our conversation flowed easily. By now, we were familiar with each other's linguistic quirks.
"Can you sleep, Lijedahl?"
"I can't."
"Strange. Me neither. How about this—let's freshen up, then drink some hot water."
"All right. You go wash up first, I'll go after."
"Mm, I know your habits."
"Honestly, I sweated so much while we were running for our lives. I can't stand not bathing now."
"I'm fine. Lying in the snow froze the sweat right off me."
I waved it off.
...
December 26, 1920 – 8:20
From the time we returned until now, the second surge of magical fluctuation still hasn't been released. Lijedahl suspects it must have been fully absorbed into the earlier magical disturbance. I'm not sure, and I can't judge either way.
We got up early and arrived ahead of time at the hallway where we usually meet with Mr. Ken.
But instead of Mr. Ken, we found Anna and Jona there.
"Good morning, Miss Lijedahl!"
"Huh? Why are you two here?"
"Teacher Ken said Mr. Wolf was looking for him, so he asked us to wait here for you."
Anna answered, and as she spoke, she pulled out a slip of paper.
"And also, this is from Mr. Ken. He said if we met you, we should give it to you."
Lijedahl and I exchanged a glance. No need to guess—it was President Wolf's teleportation magic.
"Ah, I see. Then Will and I will step aside and check what's written on it. It might be confidential."
"Oh, understood."
From Anna's expression, she clearly got the hint.
"Eh? Confidential? I want to know!"
But Jona obviously hadn't thought that far.
"Sigh, you're so dense!"
Anna dragged Jona away, and we both let out a relieved smile.
Together, Lijedahl and I placed our hands on the slip of paper, and once again, that light symbolizing teleportation magic enveloped us.
...
"You see, I was just talking about them, and here they are."
We were teleported into an elegant, finely decorated office. Sitting behind the desk, on a wolf-carved chair, was President Wolf. To the left, in a chair before the desk, sat Mr. Ken.
"Miss Lijedahl, Mr. Will, good morning."
Mr. Ken greeted us warmly.
"Good morning, Mr. Ken."
We answered in unison.
"Mr. Ken? They call you Mr. Ken?"
President Wolf asked with a hint of curiosity.
"Yes, Mr. Wolf. I've never hidden my real name."
"That's... rather unique."
Wolf thought for a moment before settling on that word.
"Well then, Mr. Wolf, didn't you have something to ask Miss Lijedahl?"
"Yes."
A trace of authority appeared in Wolf's eyes as he turned toward her.
"Miss Lijedahl, Mr. Will. At dawn today, did the two of you accompany the Task Force to investigate the source of the magical fluctuations?"
"Yes, President Wolf."
"Can you tell me your reasons? And also the exact sequence of events?"
... A critical question. But we had already prepared our answers earlier this morning, so we were ready.
Lijedahl gave a small bow, then said:
"The process is rather complicated. Didn't Captain Sean Sturt tell you already?"
"He did. But I want to hear your version to cross-check. Let's start with what happened before you encountered the Task Force."
"Understood. At around three o'clock, we were affected by the magical fluctuations. Will's Tarot ability was triggered instantly, which woke him up at once. I was affected shortly after, and with Will's help, I managed to break free. Once we understood the situation, we decided to investigate while I could still sense the direction of the fluctuations. We knew ordinary people couldn't feel them, nor were they aware of magic's existence, so we acted discreetly. We avoided the police and planned to cross London Bridge—but while passing through an alley, we ran into the Task Force."
President Wolf considered this for a while before speaking slowly:
"The encounter with the Task Force matches their report. Then, upon learning that the source of the fluctuations was in the Tower of London, what did you do?"
"We scouted the exterior and parts of the interior from the car, then parked some distance away in the city."
"And then? Whose idea was it to crawl through the snow? Who participated?"
"It was my plan. Will, Captain Sean, and Team Member Jack took part."
She recited exactly as we had coordinated with Captain Sean beforehand.
"Who changed into the guard's uniform?"
"Team Member Jack."
"Who entered the Tower of London?"
"Captain Sean, Will, and I."
"Whose idea was it to use tranquilizer darts on the guards? And who provided them?"
"The plan was mine. The darts were Will's."
A deadly question—but Lijedahl answered decisively. If our story didn't match Captain Sean's, we would be exposed...
At this point, all we could do was trust in our unspoken coordination with him.
Her face remained expressionless, her eyes the solemn gray that symbolized seriousness. But if you looked closely, beneath that gray was the faint aqua-green hue of tightly suppressed tension.
We waited for Wolf's judgment.
"Hm... up to this point, nothing seems out of place."
Inwardly, we both exhaled in relief, though our outward expressions remained unchanged.
"Now then, Mr. Will, tell me—why do you carry such weapons?"
"In Asia, medicine and poison are both widely practiced. As an Asian, I learned a little myself. After 'I' died on the battlefield of that recently ended world war, I relied on these concealed weapons to protect myself—and to hunt."
"Ah... I see. My apologies."
He gave me a nod. Though I could tell his doubts weren't fully erased, he was convinced for the most part.
History had saved me—Europe at this time knew very little of China's complex and arcane traditions.
"No need to apologize. As long as your doubts are eased, that's what matters."
"Good."
The truth was, these questions were meaningless. He only wanted to see our reactions.
Then he turned to Lijedahl.
"One last question."
"Please."
"When your cover was blown, who calmly organized the escape?"
"That was me."
Lijedahl answered without hesitation. Silence followed.
Wolf studied her. Lijedahl met his gaze directly, without the slightest sign of avoidance.
I knew what this silence meant: testing whether the other side would falter. A careless heart might panic under the sudden stillness and give themselves away.
But both Lijedahl and I understood such trials well. When tested, the only response is to counter with a will firmer than your examiner's.
"No issues whatsoever."
President Wolf rose, smiling as he extended his hand to her.
"My apologies for doubting you."
She took his hand with a gentle smile.
"No matter—it was only a necessary confirmation."
Standing to the side, I thought: there may not be a smile in this world more false than the two I just saw. Both were steeped in suspicion, neither letting down their guard.
But so be it. Wolf stood at the pinnacle of authority, and Lijedahl was a threat beneath that pinnacle. For the two of them to truly trust each other—now that would be the real impossibility.
"So now, can you tell me your reason?"
At last, we had arrived at the most crucial question.
I broke into a sweat for Lijedahl. This answer could decide everything.
"... A reason? At this point, do we still need one?"
Her reply stunned even me. I looked at her in surprise, and she met my gaze with a confident look.
"The magical fluctuations have already grown this serious. Now that a chance to seek the truth presents itself, why wouldn't we act?"
"But how did you know where the source of the fluctuations was?"
"I judged it based on their direction."
I caught the flicker of astonishment on both Mr. Ken's and President Wolf's faces.
"You alone could sense the direction?"
"Yes."
Their disbelief deepened, but they quickly regained their composure, masking it with calm.
"Very well. So your reason was simply that—when the opportunity came, you wished to resolve the problem, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"But you failed."
"... That's true. We failed—because the source of the fluctuations was beneath the very center of St. John's Church's great hall."
"I heard as much from Sean Sturt. A pity indeed. Tell me, Miss Lijedahl, do you know why it was underground?"
"I don't."
She shook her head.
"I see..."
Wolf raised his hand, glancing at the watch on his left wrist.
"... It's about time. Let's head to the assembly hall."
His voice had regained its usual authority.
"Understood."
Mr. Ken steadied his expression, rose with a smile, and led us out of the president's office.
The corridor beyond was dim and shadowed, lit only by the same faint, eerie glow I had seen in the palace of the Magic Association's meeting hall. Yet Mr. Ken walked with sure steps, leaving us no choice but to follow.
"Please don't take offense at Mr. Wolf's manner just now," he said kindly.
"Not at all. We understand his position as president of the Magic Association."
"It was, in fact, a sign of recognition."
"Wh... what?"
Both Lijedahl and I were taken aback. What did he mean?
"Normally, Mr. Wolf would never handle such matters personally. He would leave them to others."
"Then why summon us here for questioning?"
Mr. Ken gave a knowing smile, the kind that seemed to pierce through everything.
“Because he respects you. If he had handed this over to someone else, it would have shown he didn't value you. By questioning you himself, he showed that you matter.”
"I see... Then, Mr. Ken, what did Mr. Wolf want from you?"
Still walking at a measured pace through the darkness, his face grew harder to distinguish in the dim glow.
"He asked me how I first met you. He asked about the true extent of your magic, Miss Lijedahl. He asked about your origins, Mr. Will. He asked how I regarded you both. And he asked how you, Miss Lijedahl, taught Anna and Jona."
The questions sounded ordinary, like routine information-gathering. But for two people whose existence was built on lies, even such questions were dangerous enough.
"He asked all that?"
Lijedahl frowned in thought.
I stayed silent, drawing a little closer to Ken, listening intently to their exchange while withholding my own thoughts.
Then she asked:
"Mr. Ken... did you answer truthfully?"
"No. Not entirely. I only spoke of what you've shown within the Magic Association. For the private matters, I mentioned only where you live and how you've guided Anna and Jona. Beyond that, I said nothing."
Still sensing her doubts, he added:
"I told him I knew nothing of your origins—that only that you are researchers of magic. I said you'd passed my tests and earned my recognition. And I did not mention your command of time magic."
At those words, the tight furrow in Lijedahl's brow finally eased.
"Thank you."
"Haha, no need."
As an observer, I watched every movement and micro-expression of Mr. Ken throughout. After carefully examining him from different angles, I concluded he was not lying. Only then did I allow myself to believe him.
We continued following him until, at a bend in the corridor, a pale glow spilled out to meet us. Ahead lay the assembly hall.
...
The waiting time for the meeting was over. Once the Round Table members had assembled, the session formally began.
This time, all the senior figures wore grim expressions. I understood immediately—it was because of the magical fluctuations at dawn. Clearly, there was no avoiding the topic today.
"Many of you are already aware of what happened earlier this morning," announced President Wolf. "And due to that incident, Mr. Helles's Task Force has made an extraordinary discovery: they have located the source of the magical fluctuation."
The declaration sent a ripple of shock through the chamber.
Even among such disciplined individuals, the joy at hearing such a long-awaited revelation broke their composure; smiles and murmurs spread across the hall.
So this was what I was seeing—perhaps this mystery had troubled them for a long time.
"Silence."
With a single word, Wolf's commanding tone restored order.
"Thanks to the bravery of the Task Force, who ventured deep into the Tower of London, we have obtained a critical lead. The Magic Association pledges here and now that their efforts will not be in vain."
I watched the President speak with solemnity, and I was quietly grateful for one thing—he wasn't about to reveal that Lijedahl and I had also been involved.
"Now, Mr. Henry will preside."
Henry rose from his seat.
"This morning, the largest magical fluctuation since the nationwide disturbances began erupted, causing widespread magical turbulence. Mr. Helles's Task Force immediately launched an investigation and finally traced the source to St. John's Church within the Tower of London."
Hearing it was so close by left many Round Table members who didn't yet know the details utterly stunned.
"So it's right under our noses?!"
Miss Vianna was the first to voice her astonishment, and others soon followed.
Miss Sophia, however, said nothing—just wore her enigmatic smile.
I wasn't up on stage this time, but seated among the crowd. Yet to my surprise, Anna and Jona had also come.
"Mr. Will!"
Jona whispered innocently, "I heard from Mr. Ken that you were amazing at yesterday's meeting. You must be really impressive!"
Her pure, guileless words left me unsure how to respond.
"Uh... that's a bit exaggerated. Miss Lijedahl was the key; I only helped a little."
"I think Miss Lijedahl is already incredible. For you to be able to help her—that's impressive too."
I had no reply to that.
"... Right."
Meanwhile, Henry continued:
"... But the problem is, the source lies beneath St. John's Church, and the Task Force's movements were detected by the Tower's guards. They barely escaped with their lives. London Tower will surely be on high alert and working with the police, who will also be investigating. The difficulty of infiltration has risen sharply."
The hall's mood sank into heavy silence as everyone began thinking of ways to break through this impasse.
"Now that we've located the source of the fluctuation, it must be dealt with immediately... but conflict must be avoided."
Anna murmured to herself, also lost in thought.
I felt completely at a loss, hoping someone else would devise a plan.
But... the real question loomed: if that "source" was indeed Frisse, would the Magic Association truly hand her over to us?
And as things stood, what could Lijedahl and I possibly do alone? We had no choice but to rely on the Magic Association's help.
"Mr. Will."
Jona whispered to me again.
I leaned in, already bracing myself for another one of her naïve comments.
"That lady keeps looking at you."
Her hand stayed low—she knew better than to point openly. Following her hint, I glanced around. At first, I saw nothing, no one looking my way... until my eyes drifted toward the Table of Truth.
There she was—Miss Sophia—her mysterious smile in place, one hand idly twirling a lock of hair, her gaze fixed on me from far away in the Fifth Ring with a playful glint.
A chill ran through me. Her stare startled me, and so did this child's sharp intuition.
"She looks like she's about to eat Mr. Will like a cookie!"
Jona whispered.
... Her metaphor was wildly inappropriate, but disturbingly accurate.
That Sophia might very well devour me whole. I couldn't guess at her thoughts at all.
When she noticed that I had caught her looking, she gave a small, contemptuous smile, then turned back to the discussion.
I no longer paid attention to the words being spoken. A bad feeling grew inside me—that somehow Lijedahl and I were already walking straight into one of her traps.
It was only a hunch.
But I was certain of one thing: nothing ahead would be smooth sailing.