Chapter 56
‘Do you know where the other two keys are?’
‘No.’
The Leader of Sky suddenly dropped his usual formal tone, his desperate gaze betraying just how long he had been searching for the keys.
Unfortunately, Ceres had nothing to offer him at the moment.
There were a total of three Black Keys.
And the three people who held them were:
Herself—Grace Ellsia.
Arthia.
And Kainel.
After all, they were the ones who had created the Sky intelligence network in the first place.
Back then, the concept of buying and selling information didn’t even exist.
There were no dedicated organizations handling intelligence.
Everything was simply gathered through noble families and their connections.
It was frustrating.
So, they created Sky.
—
‘Isn’t that name too old-fashioned?’
‘What’s wrong with it? Sky! It’s cool! It means all information under the sky belongs to us!’
‘Grace thinks it’s lame. Change it.’
‘Change it? To what? GKAL? No way! That’s even worse! The Frozen Corpse here came up with it, and it’s awful!’
‘We just took one letter from each of our names. What’s wrong with that?’
‘What’s wrong? It’s ridiculous! And why is my name last?’
‘Both of you, shut up. We’re keeping it as Sky.’
‘See? Even Grace agrees GKAL is stupid!’
‘Wait, Grace—do you really think that?’
‘…….’
‘Don’t ask! She’s avoiding eye contact!’
—
“Yulia, what do you think of the name GKAL?”
“It sounds like the name of a demon from a thousand years ago.”
…Yeah, definitely not.
GKAL? What the hell was that?
Sky was much better.
They had secretly founded the organization and managed it together.
But none of them had ever acted as the face of the group.
They had appointed a leader and simply supported it from behind, only intervening when necessary to access critical information.
It was Arthia who had created the Black Keys, claiming they needed a way to mark themselves as the founders in case of emergencies.
—
‘So, you don’t know where the other two keys are?’
It seemed Arthia had never passed his key down to anyone.
Neither had Ceres.
Even when it came to her most cherished disciple, Enoch, she had kept it hidden inside a pocket dimension.
‘It’s my organization. I’ll use it as I see fit.’
She had created Sky with the intention of using it for herself, not for it to be hoarded by future generations.
She had hoped it would thrive on its own.
Arthia and Kainel had agreed with that philosophy.
That was probably why Arthia had never handed his key down either.
‘And Kai…?’
Who knew?
He had isolated himself in the Duchy of Persia for so long, so it was natural he hadn’t interacted with Sky.
The Leader of Sky asking about the keys was proof enough.
No one had come forward with a Black Key in all this time.
If she had more money, she would’ve just used a different intelligence network.
“You have to believe me, Yulia. I really didn’t want to shake up that quiet sky. But what choice did I have? This was the easiest way to solve everything without lifting a finger.”
“Mmm, I believe you, but I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying.”
“You will someday. Now, finish your homework.”
“Okay.”
Ceres pulled the small child in her lap even closer, resting her chin on Yulia’s head as the girl scribbled on the desk.
Her gaze drifted toward the window.
‘If I had used another organization, I wouldn’t have picked up such an annoying tail.’
Her eyes locked onto a dark corner outside for a brief moment before she shook her head.
“By the way, where’s Antonion?”
Noticing the sky turning a deep crimson, Ceres suddenly realized her younger brother wasn’t home yet.
He should’ve returned from the Academy by now.
“He’s been coming home late every day.”
“Every day?”
“Yeah. He said he’s been training late.”
Training?
What did she just hear?
Not studying—but training?
“Sister.”
Seeing Ceres’ confusion, Yulia gave her an exasperated look.
“Do you even know what his major is?”
Why did she suddenly feel like she was in trouble?
“…What’s his major?”
“Swordsmanship.”
“What?”
“Brother, he’s learning swordsmanship.”
***
“Haa… Haa…”
“Damn it…”
“Huff…”
As darkness fell, the training grounds of the Academy remained occupied.
Many students, who should have already gone home, were still gathered there.
The problem?
A significant number of them were collapsed on the ground.
At least ten students lay there, their entire bodies covered in dust, as if they had rolled across the floor dozens of times.
Meanwhile, the students surrounding them were completely fine.
“For the next week, you guys will clean and maintain the training grounds.”
“Why bother setting a time limit? You’ll be doing it all the time anyway.”
“Exactly.”
The mocking laughter on their faces was evident.
“Haa… Haa… We never agreed to that!”
“Oh, come on. You agreed that the losers would do it.”
“You guys… Huff… made that up yourselves!”
“Then you should have won. Who told you to lose?”
“You bastards…”
One of the collapsed students, Antonion, gritted his teeth.
He struggled to suppress his ragged breaths and shouted with all his might, but his opponents only laughed even harder.
“Let’s go.”
“Yeah.”
“Make sure you clean up properly.”
As they walked away leisurely, Antonion clenched his fists tightly, only to loosen them with a deep sigh.
He had lost count of how many times this had happened.
Why did he have to endure this torment just because he wasn’t as skilled?
“Haa… Shit…”
“This is so frustrating…”
“Damn it…”
Looking around, he saw his teammates feeling just as resentful, unable to contain their anger.
The A-group students had been tormenting them under the guise of duels for over half a year.
At the beginning of the year, students were divided into groups based on skill level, and that’s when the bullying started.
They could tolerate duels as part of learning swordsmanship. After all, real combat experience was valuable for improvement.
“But this isn’t a duel. They’re just toying with us!”
“I agree… I never imagined that being beaten up with scorn and mockery would be considered training.”
“If we refuse, they won’t even let us practice. And the professors don’t listen to us. Honestly, I’ve given up on them. It’s pointless to even try.”
Antonion silently agreed.
It seemed the groups had also been formed based on social class. The A-group consisted solely of high-ranking nobles, and none of the professors dared to reprimand them.
“You should be ashamed of your lack of skill!”
Instead, even the professors looked down on them with disappointment.
“I thought getting into the Academy would be enough.”
“My parents already think I’ve become a knight.”
“Damn it…”
Frustrated voices echoed from all around.
They had enrolled with great ambitions, but reality was far harsher than they had expected. They weren’t even allowed proper training due to the constant hazing.
“Is it really a crime to be poor and untalented?”
“Yes. It is.”
“…?”
“If you have no money, no power, and on top of that, no skill, then yes, that’s a crime.”
A voice interrupted suddenly.
Antonion, the only one who recognized the voice, shot up in surprise.
“…Sister.”
It was Ceres.
She was standing there, staring blankly at Antonion and the other students sprawled on the ground.
She walked closer, casually dusting off Antonion’s back, and met his gaze steadily.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was just passing by.”
“What the hell…”
Even as he stared at her in disbelief, Ceres simply continued brushing off the dirt from his clothes.
A few days ago, through Yulia, Ceres had learned that Antonion was learning swordsmanship.
Since then, she had been observing him closely.
Every evening, after sunset, she would watch him return home, exhausted beyond belief.
At first, she had assumed he was simply training hard. But when he kept returning in worse condition, covered in dirt day after day, she began to have doubts.
What kind of training was he undergoing to end up like this?
Seeking answers, she visited the Academy and saw firsthand what was happening.
Antonion was being brutally beaten and humiliated by boys his age.
It wasn’t training. It wasn’t practice.
It was pure, relentless abuse.
“Antonion.”
“…What.”
How much had she seen?
Had she witnessed him being dragged around and beaten?
Antonion bit his lip at Ceres’s call, feeling ashamed and frustrated.
—
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