Ingrid dragged two black leather chairs out from behind the counter and set them in front. The metal legs rasped against the marble, a thin, unpleasant sound. One chair sat slightly crooked, pulled out in a hurry. The other remained empty.
She glanced at Rein.
The messy-haired boy was leaning against the counter in one corner, thin crystal light reflecting off his pallid face. His eyes stayed half-lidded, unreadable.
Ingrid felt a flicker of irritation. Heat rose to her cheeks.
Did 'gentleman' not translate into his vocabulary? she thought, biting her lower lip.
But the next second, memory caught her—Rein had saved her life at least twice tonight. The image of an enemy lunging at her flashed across her mind, followed by the lingering fear that hadn't left her chest.
Let him rest, she told herself with a quiet sigh. Just… don't tell me he's literally falling asleep while standing.
When the chairs were finally in place, Master Rachel approached without a sound. Her shoes made no more than a suggestion of noise on the marble. She lowered herself into the black leather chair positioned directly across from the students. The old leather gave a dry creak under her weight.
Her slender hands folded neatly in her lap as her ruby-red eyes swept across the seven Healing Department students standing in a line, the dim light catching on their pale faces.
Conversation died. The smell of old books and dust mingled with fear—so heavy it felt almost tangible.
Ingrid drifted toward Rein without quite deciding to. A faint warmth radiated from him. From that spot, she could see the seven students clearly: faces white as paper, shoulders rigid enough to wrinkle their pristine uniforms, eyes refusing to meet one another's—as if eye contact could be construed as guilt.
Librarian Belle stood behind the counter, fingers digging into the hard wood until her nails whitened. She had clearly been speaking a moment earlier, but the instant Rachel entered, Belle's lips pressed shut as if she'd swallowed whatever she'd been about to say. She retreated a half-step, yielding space in silent deference.
Rachel's gaze traveled across the seven students. Her eyes paused on each face for only a moment.
No one dared look back.
"All right." Her voice was level, and somehow the library grew even quieter. "Who will be first?"
Some clenched their fists. No one stepped forward.
The elven professor released a faint sigh, then nodded toward the girl with a white bandage wrapped tightly around her right arm.
"You first, Tara."
Tara's lips trembled. She bit down hard on her lower lip, then slowly stepped out of the line. A dark red circle of blood had seeped through the bandage. She moved carefully, keeping her injured arm close to her body. Her face was bloodless.
Rachel's eyes went straight to the wound. The corner of her mouth tightened slightly.
"Have you received healing magic?" Her tone softened.
"Yes, Master," Tara answered weakly, her left fingers twisting together. "Sally cast a healing spell on it."
She glanced back at the short-haired blonde girl standing behind her. Sally was standing too straight, eyes wide—like a small deer facing a hunter.
"But it still hurts…" Tara continued, brushing her left hand lightly over the bandage. "I think when I fell… the bone might be cracked."
Rachel nodded once. Her long fingers tapped lightly against her knee.
"All right, Tara." She leaned forward slightly. "Tell me what happened—from the beginning."
Tara drew a deep breath, as if gathering scattered fragments of memory and forcing them into order. She slowly lifted her eyes toward the library's quiet vaulted ceiling, then began in a voice edged with caution.
"When the undead attacked… Sally and I had just left the alchemy room. We were going back to the dorms, but it was later than usual because we had to finish preparing the experiment list in time for tomorrow's quiz."
Master Rachel lifted her chin slightly, resting her jaw against one hand. Her red eyes gleamed with thoughtful focus.
"A quiz. Tomorrow?" Her voice was soft, neutral.
"Yes, Master." Tara nodded, and a hint of frustration surfaced in her expression. "I'm not good at that subject… My scores have been really low. So I had to try harder."
Rachel's gaze shifted into something more patient—encouraging her to continue. A small nod: I'm listening.
Tara swallowed, and the memories began to pour back in.
"After we left the alchemy room, we were walking along the second-floor corridor… and we saw them. Bodies in uniforms, moving wrong!"
Her voice trembled as the images returned, vivid and clinging.
"We tried to run. We ran for the stairs, but then… a zombie came out from the stairwell corner. I panicked and lost my footing. I fell on the steps, and this sharp pain shot through my arm—everything spun…"
She paused. A thin, involuntary sob slipped out, but she tightened her grip on herself and forced her voice steady again.
"I felt pain… dizziness… and then when I came to, I was lying on the ground floor. Sally was trying to protect me. She was screaming for help…"
A heavy sigh sounded from nearby.
Rein—still leaning against the counter—rubbed at his eyes, then offered Tara a faint smile.
But standing close enough to catch it, Ingrid's thoughts snagged on the same image over and over: Rein looking far too much like the hero in this story.
Tch… this guy… acting like some white-horse knight rescuing noble girls. And he's only been out of the Vault for one day.
Ingrid bit her lip and shot him a sideways glare. Rein still looked relaxed—far too relaxed for a sealed-room murder.
At that moment, his gaze met hers.
Rein smiled like this was still someone else's problem.
"And then… he appeared," Tara said, nodding toward Rein. "He killed all the zombies and brought Sally and me up here—to the third-floor library. He opened the door and let us hide inside."
Her voice softened when she said it.
And at those words, every eye in the library turned to Rein at once. Belle's stare, in particular, remained cold and distrustful.
"At that time," Master Rachel asked, her voice still level but each word gaining weight, "was anyone already inside the library before you arrived?"
Tara shook her head slowly, then answered with certainty.
"No, Master. There was no one inside then. If you count him… there were only three of us."
The "him" was Rein—arms folded, eyes half-closed like someone about to fall asleep.
Tara fell quiet for a moment. Her dark eyes wavered with hesitation. A soft sigh escaped her—like she was gathering courage, or organizing something tangled in her mind—before she continued in a voice that dropped to a near whisper.
"After that… he left again."
She spoke slowly, but firmly. Her gaze dipped, as though the scene still played behind her eyes.
"He told Sally and me to stay hidden in here. To be as quiet as possible…"
Her voice began to shake at the memory of that instruction. Without realizing it, one hand rose to touch the bandage on her arm.
"After that… Sally…" Tara swallowed the rest of the sentence, then tried again, her voice steadier this time. "Sally tore a strip from her sleeve and wrapped my arm. She didn't say much then, but her hands were shaking a little… I remember how careful she was."
Tara paused again. Something flickered in her eyes and didn't quite resolve.
Rachel listened without changing expression, but her gaze stayed locked on Tara. She offered no interruption, as if allowing the girl to speak at her own pace.
"Not long after that… he came back again," Tara continued. Her left arm pressed automatically against her injured right. "And he brought these two with him…" She nodded toward a girl and a boy standing not far away—same reddish-brown hair, same bone structure. The girl's arms were folded; her brother kept his eyes down.
"The others…" Tara went on, her voice thinning. "On the last trip, he brought in four more. In the end, there were eight of us in the room… including the one who… just died."
"The last trip," Rachel said evenly, her tone carrying a chill like icewater. "You mean the three in the back—and the one who's dead?"
Tara nodded quickly, then answered in a small voice. "Y-yes, Master…"
Rachel only watched her. No immediate reply. Her thin lips pressed together slightly.
"Here," the elven professor continued, "did you know anyone besides Sally?"
Tara hesitated, thinking. Then she answered, "Um… only Senior Ceris."
Her eyes flicked toward a girl standing slightly apart. Ceris Glenwood—silver-framed glasses, composed to the point of coldness. But if you looked closely, her posture shifted in tiny increments, as though discomfort was crawling beneath her calm.
"Senior Ceris… Second-year. House Glenwood—the royal physicians' family. She's been top of the class for two years straight. No one in the Healing Department doesn't know her."
Rachel's gaze slid to Ceris again. This time, the air tightened around her—just a fraction. Ceris said nothing. She remained still, as if a thin wall stood between her and everyone else in the room.
"And… the one who died?" Rachel asked. Her voice tightened.
Tara shook her head and looked down.
"And after that, what happened?"
"I… don't know," Tara answered honestly. But her voice came out faint, trembling—like she was still holding something back. "I was adjusting my bandage… it shouldn't have taken long…"
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The simplicity of the answer unsettled the room. Every eye turned toward Tara. Master Rachel remained seated, arms folded, her face unreadable—yet her deep red eyes reflected clear suspicion.
"What does that mean, Tara?" Rachel repeated slowly.
The bandaged girl flinched. She lowered her gaze, her left hand gripping her uniform so tightly her knuckles went white, as if trying to anchor herself.
"I'm not sure…" she stammered. "…It was like I looked down at my bandage—then the lights went out. And when I looked up again, the lights were on. But… it felt wrong."
"Wrong how?" Rachel asked. Her brows drew together slightly. The entire hall went so silent it felt like everyone had stopped breathing to wait for the answer.
Tara hesitated, swallowed hard, then continued. "Everyone looked panicked. Sally—who should've been sitting next to me—was standing by the counter instead. People weren't in the same places anymore. But if the lights only went out for a moment… it shouldn't have been long enough for the room to change like that."
Sally—the blonde, short-haired girl Tara had named—stood rigidly in the back, head lowered. She didn't speak.
Tara pressed her lips together, then forced the next part out in a thin voice.
"After that, we realized… Senior Lucien was gone. So everyone started searching. And not long after… there was a scream."
She paused, gathering herself—then pushed through.
"We followed the sound… and found that… she was the one who discovered the body…"
Tara's gaze shifted to another girl standing beside a boy. The girl had shoulder-length black hair; her eyes were swollen and red from crying. She kept her head down, avoiding everyone's stares, her body shaking as if she were holding back sobs by sheer force.
Ingrid—listening in stillness—followed Tara's gaze. She vaguely recognized the black-haired girl. They hadn't spoken much, but Ingrid had seen that face among the first-years—passing in the cafeteria, a classroom, a corridor.
Rachel was silent for a moment. Then she nodded at Tara, granting permission to continue.
"And then?"
"Senior Ceris recovered first," Tara said carefully. "She told us not to touch anything—don't touch the body. She ordered us back to the counter to wait for professors and officials to arrive."
Ingrid couldn't help tightening her mouth.
That sounded like Ceris.
"Tara," Master Rachel said evenly, drawing her attention back. "Earlier, you said you didn't know the deceased. Is that correct?"
Tara jerked slightly. She met Rachel's eyes for a fraction of a second—then looked down again. "Y-yes… I said that…"
"But you spoke his name. Senior Lucien." Rachel's voice remained calm, but stole the depth from her breathing. "Did someone tell you his name beforehand, Tara?"
Sweat surfaced on Tara's forehead. Her posture tightened further, as if the question were a rope pulling her upright. She glanced back toward Sally, silently begging for help.
She did not move. Not even a flinch.
"Tara?" Rachel prompted again. This time her tone softened—just a little. The pressure did not.
Tara bit her lip, exhaled shakily, and finally whispered, "Yes… I know him, Master Rachel…"
Every pair of eyes locked onto Tara, but no one dared speak.
"I—I'm not involved in his death!" Tara rushed out, voice shaking with fear. "It's just that… it's kind of… embarrassing."
"Say it," Master Rachel replied, calm and heavy. "Embarrassing is preferable to suspicion."
Tara went still again. Then she drew a deep breath, as if pulling courage out of somewhere she didn't have.
"Senior Lucien and I… we know each other through family ties. There's been pressure… to arrange an engagement between me and him…"
Her head dipped lower. The words came out halting, visibly difficult.
"But I wasn't interested. I refused every time… and my family still kept pushing it…"
"I see…" Rachel murmured softly, ruby eyes fixed on Tara as if searching for something inside the confession.
Then, as if the elf instructor had reached a decision, she drew in a quiet breath and tilted her head slightly. When she spoke again, her voice was calm—yet carried unmistakable authority.
"Hm… Tara. Do you think anyone in your group behaved… strangely?"
Ingrid frowned. That hadn't been a change of topic.
Tara looked up to meet Master Rachel's gaze, but she fell silent for a moment, as though gathering her thoughts or carefully filtering her memories.
"I remember now…"
Her voice trembled faintly, yet carried clearly enough to draw everyone's attention.
"That person…" Tara spoke slowly, her tone cautious. "I saw him earlier in the day. He was standing in front of the Forbidden Section… for an unusually long time."
She paused, inhaling as she reconstructed the scene in her mind.
"At the time, I was at the shelves on the opposite side, so I noticed him clearly. He stood out—his clothes were strange. He didn't look like a student from the Healer Department."
A murmur spread.
Tara raised her left hand—the uninjured one—and pointed toward a young man leaning casually against the counter. The same young man who had saved her life earlier that night.
The black-haired boy, his hair tousled as if he hadn't bothered to comb it all day, slowly opened his eyes as he felt the weight of everyone's gaze. He offered a faint, awkward smile—one that did absolutely nothing to improve the situation.
Master Rachel did not respond immediately. She remained composed, then lifted her gaze and turned toward the elderly librarian, Belle, who stood with her arms crossed behind the counter on the opposite side.
"You are not the first to confirm that the boy was at the Forbidden Section," Master Rachel said, her voice level—yet heavy enough that the room tightened. "While this is not new information, thank you for corroborating Librarian Belle's account."
She lifted her hand slightly, signaling for Tara to step away from the chair.
Tara nodded faintly, rose, and retreated to the back of the group, standing quietly once more. She looked slightly relieved—no longer the center of attention.
A soft sigh escaped from the messy-haired boy. It was followed by a quiet whisper from Ingrid—low, but clear enough for Rein alone to hear.
"Looks like you're really popular tonight, Rein."
Rein turned to look at the bespectacled girl. She smiled back.
"Next—Sally."
Master Rachel's voice rang out, calm and firm, pulling everyone's attention back to the center. She nodded toward the shoulder-length blonde-haired girl standing beside Tara.
Sally took a deep breath before stepping forward. She walked slowly, hesitating with nearly every step, her gaze fixed on the floor as if avoiding eye contact altogether. When she reached the chair, she sat down carefully. Both hands rested lightly on its edges—as though it were an anchor keeping her from being swept away by a storm.
"How are you today?" Rachel asked. Her tone had softened to normal—yet there was a sincerity beneath it, making the question feel less routine.
"It's been… heavy," Sally replied briefly. Her voice trembled faintly, but remained polite and composed. She lowered her head slightly, as if trying to avoid Rachel's gaze.
Rachel nodded gently.
"Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"
"Honestly… Tara already told you everything," Sally answered evenly. "My experience wasn't any different from hers."
Her voice stayed even. Flat.
Rachel paused briefly before speaking again, her voice steady.
"You were sent here for a reason," Rachel said. "The Wyndfield family sent you to look after Tara."
There was no accusation in her words—only confirmation of something Sally already knew.
At that moment, Rachel raised her hand. An old, leather-bound book materialized in midair, spinning briefly before dropping neatly into her palm.
Rein's eyes flew open. Startled, he leaned forward instinctively to get a better look at the unexpected object.
"What the—an artifact like that?" he muttered, softly enough that only those nearby could hear.
"Yes. That's the Elven Index," Ingrid whispered beside him. Her expression remained calm, but awe flickered beneath it. "It's one of Master Rachel's personal artifacts—and the reason she serves as an advisor to the Arcane Investigation Unit."
Rein narrowed his eyes at the book in Rachel's hand. "What does that mean?" he asked quietly.
"It's an artifact that records everything an elf has ever read or learned," Ingrid replied, arms still crossed, her voice filled with fascination. "All information is preserved. Nothing is ever lost—and it can be retrieved no matter how many centuries pass."
Rein murmured, nodding slowly. "I see… a fully cloud-based database."
No wonder she knows everything. She's practically a walking archive. So this is where the entire Academy's student data is stored.
Master Rachel let out a soft breath and lifted the thick volume, flipping through its pages with confidence and deliberate precision.
"Sally. A commoner child taken in by the Wyndfield family."
Her voice was firm, but not harsh—drawing every listener's attention.
"…raised alongside Tara. Not as servant."
She paused, fingertips resting on the next line, then continued with quiet interest.
"Hm… intriguing."
Sally, seated calmly across from her, showed no visible reaction. Her stillness felt like a shield—or perhaps simply her nature. She smiled faintly, without a hint of alarm.
"Honestly, that's information the Academy already has," she said softly. Her tone was gentle—but carried an undercurrent of quiet confidence.
Rachel lifted an eyebrow slightly, then nodded, as if weighing those words.
"True. It may simply be… a deviation. But the relationship between the two of you feels a bit unusual."
Her voice remained even—yet the suspicion within it was unmistakable. She leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with Sally.
"Tell me, Sally. You know Lucien Varennes."
Sally paused.
A faint glimmer passed through her clear blue eyes—then she nodded calmly.
"Yes. I do."
Master Rachel studied her for a moment before shifting her gaze toward Tara, who stood nearby. Tara now looked hesitant, uncertainty clearly written across her face.
"But Tara has nothing to do with him," Sally added quickly.
"That's fine… I'll decide that myself."
Rachel set the book down and rose.
"That aside—what exactly happened during the blackout?"
The question made Sally hesitate. She went still, as if gathering her memories, her expression resembling someone searching through fragments in her mind. Her lips moved slightly before she spoke.
"I'm not entirely sure. At the time… it felt like the lights were out for about three minutes. Maybe. I panicked and stood up, and then I felt like someone walked past right in front of me…"
She paused, her gaze drifting as if replaying the events of that night.
"…I thought it was Tara, so I tried to walk toward her. I called out, but there was no answer. And before I realized it, I was standing behind the counter—and the lights came back on."
Master Rachel frowned, suspicion clear on her face. Her sharp eyes flicked toward Tara, who now looked even more confused.
"Why don't the times match…? Tara said the blackout wasn't long, but you thought it lasted three minutes—and someone passed right in front of you?"
"Yes. That's the part I don't understand either. About someone passing by—"
Sally stopped briefly, as if processing her own words.
"…it felt like that person almost bumped into me. They were very close."
"You're sure you didn't imagine it?"
Master Rachel asked, her tone noticeably more serious. Her gaze locked onto the girl's face.
"No. That's the one thing I'm certain about," Sally replied immediately. Her expression remained calm, but her voice carried weight. "As for the timing… I think it was about three minutes. It could've been a little longer or shorter."
"Strange…" Master Rachel murmured. Her gaze drifted past the blonde girl.
Beside him, Ingrid's jaw tightened. Her hands clenched at her sides.
The black-haired boy leaned forward slightly, his expression thoughtful. His deep blue eyes flickered as a quiet murmur slipped from his lips—more to himself than anyone else.
"Three minutes… hm."
His voice was low and even. He paused, letting the words hang in the air before continuing with quiet suspicion.
"But what's more interesting is where Sally was standing at the time."
Ingrid immediately turned to him. Her brow remained furrowed, but now it held curiosity rather than frustration. She tilted her head slightly and asked softly,
"What are you thinking? What do you mean—where Sally was?"
Rein didn't answer right away. He simply returned her gaze, deep and unreadable, a faint smile curling at the corner of his lips.
"It's about position and time. If we plotted it as a graph, we'd get—"
He stopped mid-lecture when he noticed the blank look in the bespectacled girl's clear eyes—she clearly hadn't understood a word.
"…Yeah. Never mind."
Rachel strode forward and stopped in front of Sally, who sat stiffly in her chair, clearly avoiding everyone's gaze.
"Sally."
Rachel's voice was calm—but carried enough force to silence the room.
"Tell me where you were sitting with Tara at first. And after the blackout—where were you standing?"
Sally flinched slightly when addressed, but answered quickly despite the nervousness in her voice.
"I—I was sitting with Tara near the counter entrance. Right there…"
She raised her hand and pointed to a spot near the polished wooden counter that connected to the staff area behind it.
Librarian Belle stood nearby with her arms crossed, her expression clearly displeased at being drawn further into the matter.
Rachel nodded, then pressed on, her voice level but probing.
"And after the lights came back on?"
"I…" Sally began, then stopped, searching her memory. "I was… standing behind the counter. I don't even know how I got there."
That answer made Ingrid narrow her eyes, while Rein listened intently. He shifted slightly, scanning the room once more.
Rachel placed a slender finger against her chin and tapped it lightly three times before speaking.
"That means that during the blackout, someone opened the door, someone passed Sally, someone led or displaced her."
Rein remained silent, but his thoughts raced. He leaned closer and whispered to Ingrid, his voice barely audible.
"Prying the door… the key… the Forbidden Section…"
Ingrid whispered back. "In complete darkness?"
Before Rein could continue, Rachel pointed toward the librarian's office door—an old wooden door bearing clear signs of forced entry, as if silently recounting what had happened in the dark.
"But what troubles me most is this—all of this happened in three minutes. That's far too little time for everything that occurred. This is—"
"Impossible."
Both of them said it at the same time.
These entries expand the lore and mechanics introduced in this chapter.
Completely optional—read only if you enjoy diving deeper into the system..
Magical Weapons and Artifacts
Elven Index
– A legendary artifact belonging to Master Rachel.
– It records everything an elf has ever read or learned.
– Allows perfect recall of knowledge across centuries.
– Functions as a living, personal archive, and is the reason Rachel serves as an advisor to the Arcane Investigation Unit.
Key Characters
Tara Wyndfield
– A first-year student in the Healing Department.
– Injured during the undead attack (possible bone fracture in her arm).
– Confesses to having a personal connection with the victim, Lucien Varennes, due to a pressured family-arranged engagement.
– Initially claims not to know him—later reveals the truth under pressure from Rachel.
– Witnessed someone near the Forbidden Section prior to the incident and identified Rein as the person she saw.
Sally
– A commoner adopted by the Wyndfield family to act as a personal attendant to Tara.
– First-year Healing Department student.
– Confirmed to know Lucien Varennes.
– Recounted her perspective of the blackout during the murder event:
– Experienced it as lasting around 3 minutes.
– Felt someone pass closely by her in the dark.
– Ended up standing behind the counter without remembering how.
– Shows signs of restraint and loyalty to Tara, but hints at deeper involvement remain.
Other
Blackout Event
– A magical blackout occurred inside the sealed library.
– Time perception varied among witnesses:
– Tara perceived it as brief.
– Sally reported about 3 minutes and felt someone pass near her.
– Post-blackout, positions of students in the room had shifted inexplicably.
– Immediately afterward, Lucien’s body was discovered.
the truth doesn’t hide.
It waits.
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The library hasn’t finished speaking yet.
— Re:Naissance