At the corridor's mouth, he paused and glanced back.
The Vault's door loomed behind them—obsidian metal with veins of emerald that caught what little light existed. Rein's fingertips still tingled from where they'd brushed the cold surface. Ancient runes pulsed across its face—crimson, amber, then a sickly green. Between each pulse, he counted seven heartbeats.
Rein's jaw tightened. He gave himself a small nod, then turned away and hurried after the two women.
The corridor that had once blazed with light now relied on a mere handful of mana lamps—each one sputtering weakly, as though reluctant to push back the dark. The earlier battle had damaged the building's lighting array, leaving stretches of corridor swallowed by dark.
"Tell me," Master Rachel said at last.
She glanced back at Rein, the greenish lamplight catching briefly in her sharp gaze. Her voice was calm—calm in the way deep water is cold enough to hide something beneath it.
"How did you know the Healing Library was protected by a warded boundary magic?"
The air in the corridor seemed to drop several degrees.
"Earlier today, Ingrid and I stopped by," Rein answered evenly. "The glyph pattern on the door resembled Master Chloe's Vault—simpler, but built on the same underlying structure."
The elven professor fell silent for a moment. The faint glimmer in her eyes sharpened.
"To recognize the structural differences at a glance… intriguing. Just as Master Chloe claimed."
She halted mid-step.
"You're no ordinary student, Rein. And the fact that you opened that door… makes coincidence the least plausible explanation."
Rein looked away, letting his gaze drift across the damp stone walls.
"Master Chloe gave me the Magical Code Key," he replied. "And instructions through the Communication Orb."
Master Rachel let out a soft, crystalline laugh—at odds with the sharpness in her eyes.
"What a sly one, isn't he, Ingrid?"
The blonde girl walking behind her tightened her lips instead of replying. Exhaustion clouded her features, but when her gaze flicked briefly to Rein, it didn't quite settle before she looked away.
Her external injuries had been treated, and she had changed into fresh clothing—with new glasses to replace the cracked pair. Even so, she still looked drained. Rein wasn't much better; the ache beneath his ribs reminded him how close they'd come to collapse, a constant reminder that neither of them would be ready for another fight anytime soon.
Ingrid slowed her pace to walk beside him. Then she leaned in, whispering:
"Master Rachel isn't only a Healing instructor. She's also an advisor to the kingdom's Forensic Magic Division."
Forensic? Seriously? Please don't tell me the fantasy equivalent of forensic medicine exists here too.
As if sensing Ingrid's whisper, Master Rachel subtly slowed her steps—forcing both of them to draw closer—before resuming her pace.
Ingrid said nothing more.
The three eventually reached a white-stone spiral staircase. It spiraled upward like the interior of a great stone shell, moonlit reflections drifting across the curved walls as if the whole structure were slowly turning.
Rein clenched his teeth. The deep ache in his muscles and nerves still throbbed with every movement.
"An academy full of mages," he muttered, half to himself, "and still no one's invented a mana-powered elevator. Figures."
Ingrid shot him a frown while slipping an arm under his to steady him.
"What are you even talking about?"
Rein only offered a faint smile and said nothing.
Together they ascended slowly, step by step, following Master Rachel.
Twin moons cast pale light across the hall at the top of the stairs. Rein's gaze traveled over the destruction—shattered stone scattered across the floor, white pillars now broken and jagged. One entire wall had collapsed into rubble. Thin clouds of dust hung motionless in the air.
The spot where Rein had fought the zombified student healers was empty. No bodies remained. Only black scorch-marks from purification spells lingered on the stone—radial burns that Rein recognized as the signature of high-intensity light-erasure magic. Someone had methodically cleaned the battlefield.
Several Healing Department professors patrolled the courtyard, their robes catching the glow of mana lamps. When Master Rachel stepped into view, they all stopped and bowed, their movements stiff with respect and something like fear.
He gazed at the charred ashes and said nothing. Somewhere behind the fight, Dr. Rhys had been taking mental notes the entire time—cataloging specimens, identifying the parasites latched to each skull like ticks gorged on control mana. Someone had hotwired dead nervous systems. Clever, in a way that made his skin crawl.
He exhaled softly and followed Master Rachel toward the far stair hall—up to the third floor, where the Healing Library waited.
As they walked, Ingrid continued her account of the evening.
"After we brought you to the Vault to rest, I went straight to the library like you said. Master Rachel and the librarian had just exited when I arrived… and that's when we learned someone had died inside."
Rein felt her words settle like cold weight in the hallway.
Master Rachel added, her voice low, gaze narrowing:
"As you saw, I was returning with the Healing staff after purging the undead across the academy. There were over a hundred of them scattered about. If we hadn't eliminated them before morning, the academy might've faced a thousand more."
She paused mid-step.
The temperature in the corridor seemed to dip.
"But while dealing with that crisis… none of us expected the true target of the intruders to be here."
The elven professor turned, eyes sharp enough to feel like a diagnostic spell—assessing, cataloging, dissecting without ever lifting a finger.
"And even more unexpected—two first-year students managed to disrupt their plan long enough for reinforcements to arrive."
Rein gave a small, unreadable smile—his eyes calm, betraying nothing.
"Part of it was luck," he said lightly. "And part of it was simply that we were students… which probably made them careless."
"Luck, hm?"
Rachel's tone remained level, but something like amusement flickered beneath it.
"You speak like someone who doesn't believe in luck at all, Rein."
Her tone was mild, but the weight beneath it suggested she was filing that observation away for later.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
At last, the three of them arrived before the double doors of the Healing Library. The doors rose nearly twenty feet high, their polished surface gleaming in the dim light. While broken stone and debris littered the academy grounds, this entrance remained untouched. The wood—dark with age and oiled to a soft sheen—showed no damage from the night's violence.
A woman stood guard, her back straight as a ruler. She appeared to be in her sixties, with short-cropped gray hair and glasses thick enough to magnify her eyes slightly. When her gaze shifted to Rein, her mouth tightened into a thin line—as if his presence alone threatened the order of her domain.
Master Rachel gave her a polite smile that barely creased the corners of her mouth.
"Librarian Belle," she said, "please open the door."
The elder woman's shoulders tensed beneath her uniform. Rein watched her fingers grip the fabric of her robe before she looked away.
Rachel's crimson eyes held steady on Belle's face. The librarian looked away first.
Belle lifted one hand and traced a pattern in the air. Her fingertip left a faint blue trail that dissipated seconds later. A mechanism clicked inside the door. The hinges released a deep, resonant groan as the massive doors parted.
Rein paused at the threshold. He had been here before, in daylight, when his mind had still felt like a visitor inside this body. Now his thoughts and movements aligned without effort—no gap between intention and action, no sense of operating borrowed machinery.
He stepped into the Healing Library behind Master Rachel and Ingrid, with Librarian Belle following stiffly at the rear.
The elderly woman's gaze bored into his back. He pretended not to notice.
The vaulted ceiling curved overhead—the same amber glow from the mana crystals, the same carved pillars. But at night, the stillness felt less like quiet and more like held breath.
Rein lowered his gaze.
Five students stood gathered at the front of the hall, faces tight with fear and exhaustion. Two more huddled near the borrowing counter, knees pulled to their chests, barely breathing, as if silence might protect them.
Librarian Belle stopped at the doorway, arms crossed. The light from the crystals flashed across her thick glasses as she shot Rein a look filled with silent reprimand—almost as if suggesting all of this was his fault.
Rein's expression remained impassive.
Ah. That look.
He'd seen it often enough as Dr. Rhys—colleagues turning distant, conversations ending too quickly. The physics department coffee room had emptied with similar efficiency.
Same reaction. Different universe.
Master Rachel's voice cut through the silence.
"Close the doors, Belle. From here on, I will conduct the preliminary investigation. Then I'll decide how to handle this place—and everyone inside."
The elderly librarian muttered under her breath but complied. She traced a slow circle in the air; shimmering threads of mana rippled outward.
The doors shut with a deep, resonant impact that reverberated through their chests. With the ward closed, the world outside disappeared. Their breaths filled the silence—sharp, trembling, too loud.
The red-haired elf looked across the hall.
"All right. Everyone, gather here."
Seven students in wrinkled uniforms moved forward. Some dragged their feet; others kept their fists clenched at their sides. A whimper, a half-formed word, a shaky exhale.
He drew a short breath.
"…Hmm."
His brow furrowed. Something wasn't right, but the thought remained elusive.
Ingrid's face tensed as she surveyed the group. Her fingers gripped her sleeve, knuckles white against the fabric. She nudged Rein and pointed toward the left side of the library.
In the shadows between distant shelves—perhaps sixty feet away—lay a figure face-down on the floor.
He counted the students before him: five female, two male. The gender imbalance was typical for the Healing Department. He recognized each face from earlier that night, when he'd helped them escape.
All except for the boy lying motionless between the shelves.
He lifted his gaze toward Master Rachel, and—as though she already knew the question forming in his mind—she spoke first.
"The male student who died was Lucien Varennes," she said. "Second-year. Your senior."
"After we finished clearing the remaining undead outside, I entered the library with Librarian Belle. We were the first to arrive—and found him already dead."
She paused, eyes narrowing faintly before she exhaled.
"Of course I attempted resuscitation the moment I reached him. But it was far too late. He had been dead for over thirty minutes. Even if Master Chloe herself were here, she wouldn't have been able to save him."
Her eyes drifted back toward the corpse.
Then she looked at Ingrid and gave a small nod—permission to continue.
"After I brought you to the Vault," Ingrid said softly, "I ran up to the library like you said. When I arrived, Master Rachel and Librarian Belle had just stepped out. They told me what happened… so I went inside and saw Senior Lucien lying there."
She paused, replaying the memory with palpable strain.
"I explained how you'd brought the others here to hide. After that, Master Rachel decided to leave the room with me and asked Librarian Belle to stay behind and watch the remaining students. Everyone else was ordered to stay put—until we could bring you back to verify the timeline… and some evidence."
Rein listened in silence, mentally arranging the timeline like a row of dominoes.
Fifteen minutes: cutting down undead, rescuing students per Chloe's orders.
Next: leading eight Healing students to the library—five girls, three boys.
Then: helping Ingrid fight intruders for approximately thirty minutes.
That left a window of forty-five minutes when someone killed Lucien.
Seven survivors remained. All claimed innocence. One corpse in a sealed room.
The sequence of arrivals after his departure was clear: Rachel and Belle first, then Ingrid, then himself again. A murder in a locked room on the same night zombies invaded the academy. The variables did not feel independent.
He exhaled quietly. "So... Master Rachel wants me to verify something?"
The elven professor nodded once.
"Rein. Ingrid. With me. Belle—watch the others."
She led them down the narrow aisle toward Lucien's body. Moments later, they reached the corpse.
A young man with short golden hair lay face-down on the stone floor.
"…Lucien Varennes. That surname means he was part of the Varennes noble family, correct?" Ingrid asked quietly.
"Yes," Master Rachel replied. "And that is one of the major complications of this case."
Rein turned toward Ingrid, his expression asking the question for him.
She blinked—then remembered he still suffered partial amnesia.
She began to explain.
"The Varennes are a high-ranking noble house in Arcadia. The Duke of Varennes has considerable influence at court. The death of someone from that family… will create political messes no one wants."
"More than that," Rachel added, "Lucien was the Duke's illegitimate son. Acknowledged enough to bear the surname—yet likely pressured and marginalized by the main household."
Rein rubbed his chin lightly and cast a sidelong glance at Rachel.
She'd identified the victim and pulled his background in minutes. On Earth, he'd have assumed access to every hidden database and social media feed on the planet.
He folded his arms.
Politics. Nobility. Academy hierarchy.
He turned to Ingrid.
"So, Ingrid—do you also come from some influential house? Just so I know who I should avoid offending."
Ingrid froze for a second, then spun toward him.
"Did you hit your head again? Commoners like us don't have surnames!"
Rein blinked.
Right.
He hadn't even noticed.
In this world, commoners had no family names at all.
But the blonde girl clearly had more urgent worries than questioning the stunned look on Rein's face.
She turned to Master Rachel instead.
"Master Rachel… during the incident, Rein and I were fighting outside the library. We couldn't have been involved in Senior Lucien's death."
Rachel didn't answer.
She merely gave a small, deliberate nod toward the body—an unspoken order for Rein to begin.
Rein knelt beside the corpse.
He did not touch it.
Instead, he leaned in just enough for the wounds to fill his field of vision.
The injury was catastrophic—centered cleanly in the torso. A close-range spell, fired with precision, had punched a fist-sized hole straight through flesh and bone, blasting out the back. Blood radiated across the floor in dark streaks, several droplets flung high enough to stain the nearby shelves.
Lucien's hands lay open, palms scraped raw. Long red gouges ran across the stone where he had clawed at the floor—proof of a brief, agonizing struggle.
Rein remained still.
He observed the body without laying a single finger on it, then slowly lifted his gaze to examine the shelves around them.
The shelf aligned with Lucien's head was one he recognized.
He had stood there earlier that afternoon.
The Forbidden Section.
And now… a book was missing.
The mana-forged chain that had once bound it to the shelf hung slack, unlatched.
Rein's brow tightened.
Mana Vision had been active since he stepped into the aisle—enough for faint, familiar traces to glimmer along the edge of the forbidden section. Traces that should not have been there.
"So you've pieced it together, Rein. Good. That's why you're here."
Rein rose to his feet, planting his hands on his hips. His expression carried a hint of weary annoyance—but his eyes were bright, alert, fully awake now.
"Yes, Master Rachel. If I'm following this correctly… I'm one of your suspects, aren't I?"
"W-What!?"
Ingrid's eyes widened, shock snapping her posture rigid. Her hand halted mid-grip on her sleeve. She stared at him, then at Master Rachel, then back at him.
These entries expand the lore and mechanics introduced in this chapter.
Completely optional—read only if you enjoy diving deeper into the system.
Core Concept
Forensic Magic
– A specialized branch of magical application focused on crime scene investigation, magical trace analysis, and truth verification.
– Practitioners like Master Rachel serve as both healing instructors and advisors to the Kingdom’s Forensic Magic Division.
– Forensic magic allows detection of spell residue, time of death, and mana signature analysis.
Magical Code Key
– A physical or spell-inscribed key, used to unlock arcane-sealed doors like the one guarding the Healing Library.
– Can be imbued with custom instructions, such as remote commands via Communication Orb, as demonstrated by Master Chloe.
Necro-Parasitic Nodes
– Parasitic implants used to animate undead through control mana, discovered on the skulls of the reanimated apprentices.
– Detected via Mana Vision by Rein.
– Function as neural hijacks, allowing remote control over cadavers.
– Described as “crude but effective”—not fully sentient undead but puppets acting under remote influence.
Locations
The Forbidden Section (Healing Library)
– A highly restricted zone in the Healing Library that contains sensitive or dangerous magical knowledge.
– Books in this section are mana-bound with forged magical chains.
– Only select mages or professors can unlock them.
– During the murder investigation, it is discovered that one book is missing from this section.
Key Characters
Librarian Belle
– Elderly female librarian with strict demeanor.
– Appears highly protective of the library and displeased with students interfering.
– Was present with Master Rachel upon discovering the murder, and is later left to watch the survivors.
Master Rachel (update)
– Elven senior healer and forensic magic advisor.
– Calm, analytical, and authoritative.
– Commands respect from both staff and students.
– Uses diagnostic magic and deductive reasoning to guide investigations.
Lucien Varennes
– A second-year student of the Healing Department and the illegitimate son of the Duke of Varennes, a powerful noble family.
– Found dead inside the Healing Library with a massive cavity wound through the torso—killed by a high-intensity magical attack at close range.
– His death carries political implications due to his noble lineage.
A sealed door.
Seven survivors.
One body.
isn’t what’s missing—
but what refuses to make sense.
The investigation has only just begun.
— Re:Naissance