Magic Life in the Empire-Chapter 113: Move

"How their attitude quickly changed. They looked quite friendly before but are now at each other's throats," Rhamn gloated without showing herself.

I wouldn't call it that harsh. Arguing can sometimes bring people closer; it's nothing big.

Cyril walked calmly without worrying about anything for now. He only wanted to get back to his dorm at the moment.

But his plans of a tranquil journey were swiftly foiled by a hopeful question from Cedric.

"What do you think?" He quietly asked, his face serious.

"Does he never learn? Last time he asked you a question, he quickly regretted it."

"I don't really care. It is what it is." Cyril shook his head without properly replying.

He felt he was in no position to make an opinion about something like this, so he just didn't think about it.

...

During the trip back, the two quickly patched things up.

Once they were on the manarail, Cedric hastily apologized for dismissing her opinion and skillfully switched topics.

If anything, Cedric was really talented in not making people hate him. Emily smiled and easily started talking again.

Even in the academy, after the prince, Cedric had the best reputation among their grade. Many had a certain respect for him, though he was, of course, not without enemies.

Some disliked him simply because of his high reputation and do-gooder attitude, and there were a good number of them. However, most still viewed him favorably.

Even Cedric's connection to Cyril, which doomed Rose, Myra, and Edmund from getting into a friend group, didn't hinder him.

If anything, people simply praised Cedric for not abandoning even a 'villain' like Cyril.

Rhamn mentioned from time to time how it was weird and unfair. Most people only wished to see Cedric as a hero and Cyril as a villain, and so they perceived anything they did with a certain bias.

Cyril thought he had such a reputation not without reason; one only had to remember what happened during the test.

Still, he didn't mind his bad reputation; as Rose once said, it helped keep distractions away.

Shaking off these thoughts, Cyril, on a whim, decided to ask something.

"Emily, what are you going to do about Jack?" He cut into their dialogue in a calm voice.

Emily immediately went silent, a frown on her face.

"You don't have to answer now!" Cedric hastily said, "You already found your brother, so just sleep a bit, relax, and the answer will soon appear on its own."

Emily listened to his words, made a slight smile, and shook her head. "No, it's fine. Thank you."

She turned to look Cyril in the eyes. "You were right. I shouldn't give up so quickly. When I am ready, I'll visit him again, and again, and again—I will do so until he realizes that he can't get rid of me." Her gaze now held a certain determination.

Cyril could already imagine the helplessness on Jack's face.

He nodded his head in agreement. He liked her plan, mostly because it brought trouble on that carefree thief. Cyril didn't forgive him yet for putting Tigris to sleep.

...

First they said their goodbyes to Emily at the academy gates.

She promised to keep the two updated on her situation and thanked them for their help again, offering her help in the future.

Then Cyril said goodbye to Cedric in front of their dormitory.

This good-natured guy looked like he wanted to say something just before leaving, but in the end left silently after waving his hand.

Cyril guessed it was something about saying less harsh things and disregarded him, going back home.

The weather outside was dark due to the clouds, but there was still plenty of time left today.

A good opportunity... Cyril thought.

And, after changing, he began the process of moving. Thankfully only a few things were left; they can carry it all at once.

He could've probably asked academy staff for help, but Cyril felt there was a certain sense of ritual when doing it personally.

Besides, Morpho and Tigris also liked the idea of participating themselves.

They each carried some of their personal things.

A few students, who were still outside, got to witness a butterfly carrying a box bigger than its body.

Though lately more and more people have heard of a beautiful red butterfly one could occasionally find in the park, training, and didn't find this too surprising.

...

With his hands full holding a tall stack of boxes, Cyril finally arrived at the old villa. Though one wouldn't call it that now.

Since he last saw it, the place experienced some significant changes.

The unkempt and overgrown garden now looked perfect, a vibrant collection of colors that threatened to captivate anyone who stared at it.

Even the fountain was working now.

The three-story house itself was now pristine, with nothing about it, other than its style, reminding people of its respectable age.

Its thick limestone walls no longer had a single blemish or any damage, and the terracotta-tiled roof had moss clinging to it.

The balcony hanging over the garden already had a comfortable chair and a table placed there; there was even a stylized cat bed by its side.

Just as he was absorbed in the sight, a pleasant voice called out to him from the side, "Good evening, master. I am just finishing trimming the trees on the perimeter."

Ophelia elegantly walked up and bowed slightly, her back straight.

"You worked hard..." Cyril slowly said. He was really impressed with the efficiency of her work.

He was almost pitying the sad state the Felling mansion must be in right now, after missing such a maid.

"It wasn't difficult at all. A few spells and a bit of time are all that's needed," Ophelia replied in a calm voice.

Cyril stared at this wonder maid with slightly wary eyes, causing Ophelia to ask in confusion.

"Is there something wrong? Anything here you are dissatisfied with?" She immediately asked with a professional attitude.

Her voice was still calm, but deep in her eyes a certain flame could be seen, as if expecting Cyril to give her a proper challenge.

"...No, it's all perfect. Thank you for your work. I am just a bit tired." Cyril quickly brushed her off and went to enter the house.

The reason for his caution was the encounter he had today.

Ophelia was always a bit too overprotective for his well-being. All throughout childhood and until he turned 18, she always fussed about every small detail.

She was even against letting Cyril train under a renowned master, citing how she didn't trust a stranger, and offered to train him herself.

Arthur Felling never really paid attention to his son's growth, so Cyril had to decide by himself back then.

Of course a servant forbidding her master from doing something was unusual, but if Cyril had to name anyone in that mansion as his family, it would be Ophelia.

He didn't have the guts to deny her opinion when he was a child.

In short, Cyril 'suffered' a lot from this growing up. Only by entering Ailanthus did he escape her constant vigil.

Though after she followed him here, she no longer kept up the same intensity of the past, perhaps due to his age, but still...

If she finds out he was beaten to a pulp today and almost lost his life, Cyril didn't know how big her reaction would be.

At least he knew his reaction wouldn't be too good if he suddenly found out Morpho or Tigris were beaten half to death by someone.

So he quickly went into the house to escape the maid's piercing stare.

Ophelia stood there unmoving, looking at the disappearing back of Cyril with a calm face, then she almost imperceptibly narrowed her eyes for a second and went to continue her job.

There were still plenty of trees left.

...

After looking around for a bit, Cyril settled in one of the rooms on the second floor, the one with a balcony.

This was a decision they made collectively; everyone made their input, even Tigris.

With this done faster than expected, Cyril had some hours to spend.

He eagerly began practicing. His recent experience sparked further motivation for strength inside of him.

He and Morpho sat not far from each other, patiently enhancing their bodies.

Using the Dragon Art was one of the quickest ways Cyril knew that directly increased his strength, and he had the pill to help with it.

So he focused his all on that for now.

Tigris was cutely standing on a chair, his front paws on the table in front of him. He was reading a spell making book and listening to Rhamn's explanations in the meantime.

Recent events affected Tigris as well, and he too learned with renewed vigor.

In that sense, today's defeat proved itself to be rather useful.

At least that was what Rhamn occasionally said, as if to calm herself down.