Alcohol Is the Problem (2)

The Chronicle of Xenon, a book that wielded enormous influence over the world.

At first glance, it was a collection of ordinary heroic anecdotes, but the stories contained within were incredibly profound. It portrayed the demonfolk, who were usually treated as demons, as unfortunate beings, and it partially revealed both the light and darkness of the nobility, among other things.

Until then, novels had been nothing but books with convoluted sentences and absurdly complex words. The Chronicle of Xenon took the exact opposite approach. Its prose and descriptions seemed to play out inside one's head, and it was filled with memorable scenes and messages that lingered long after reading.

More than anything, it was fun. It was the chronicle of an ordinary commoner who encountered a 'fateful opportunity,' awakened his talent, and went on to grow into a hero who saved the world. On top of that, there was an appealing heroine and a cast of supporting characters.

Because The Chronicle of Xenon was so easy and enjoyable for even commoners to read, it had established itself as a popular book. It was a book that people of all ages and genders, regardless of species, could enjoy.

Besides wondering about the next volume of The Chronicle of Xenon, readers had one other question they were especially curious about.

Who, exactly, was the author of The Chronicle of Xenon? What kind of person could write a book like this?

Countless critics had offered various opinions, but the most credible theory was that the author was an aged sage. In particular, the theory that the author was an explorer who had traveled throughout the world in the past and accumulated a wealth of experience had gained the most support.

Teenagers who still needed their parents' care and young adults in their twenties who had only just entered society were naturally ruled out. That was understandable, since The Chronicle of Xenon contained far too many scenes that could only be written by someone with abundant experience.

Unless, of course, the author had come from another world.

"...Why are you asking?"

Isaac, the red-haired man with his eyes half glazed over, asked Cecily in a slurred voice. His golden eyes, which usually shone like amber, had lost their light and grown dull, while his normally blunt voice had gone weak.

His face had reddened just like his hair, making it obvious to anyone that he was drunk. He looked far too different from usual.

'Cute.'

As Cecily watched him, she thought he was cute, but she also recalled the suspicious circumstances she had noticed before. First was the callus on his middle finger that Rina had mentioned—in other words, a writer's callus.

Just as a knight's palm grew hard from holding a sword for long periods, the callus on his middle finger was likewise a mark that could only come from holding a pen for a long time. It was an unusually severe callus, one that would have required at least a year to develop, not merely a month or two.

Of course, Isaac normally had a habit of writing things down in notebooks, so it was possible for him to have a callus. He had also said himself that he liked studying, so this much could be overlooked.

The second was Isaac's usual indifferent attitude toward The Chronicle of Xenon. He clearly liked the book just like everyone else, but he was not as enthusiastic about it as they were. It was more like something he read as a hobby.

But considering the conversation she had secretly overheard between him and Jackson earlier, as well as his attitude until now, he seemed to have a thorough grasp of everything concerning The Chronicle of Xenon. If he knew the story almost in its entirety, that meant he was passionate about it, yet Isaac was strangely indifferent.

Finally, there was the identity of the demonfolk that Isaac had mentioned last time.

'It's similar to what Xenon said to Jin. Could this really be a coincidence?'

There was a scene in which Jin, the other protagonist, pondered the identity of the demonfolk while watching Sakran sacrifice himself, and Xenon eased his worries at least somewhat. Other races, including humans, might simply think that Xenon was encouraging Jin, but to Cecily, it was context she could not easily dismiss.

Isaac defined the demonfolk as 'the most human of beings, desperately wishing to become human even though they know better than anyone that they can never become human.' And the sentence Xenon had said to Jin was this.

[Don't worry. Contrary to what you're worried about, even if demonfolk become demons, they can still die like humans. Look at Sakran. Even God can't change what we're born as, but that's precisely what makes demonfolk even more human.]

Xenon's maxim contained an idea that closely echoed what Isaac had said to her.

What if Isaac truly was the author of The Chronicle of Xenon? All the evidence above fit together with astonishing precision. But this alone could not serve as decisive proof.

Above all, Isaac was currently seventeen years old, which by human standards meant he had only just reached adulthood. No matter how much knowledge he possessed, his experience could never be equally abundant.

Isaac had also stated that he had spent his life at home and had hardly ever gone outside. Moreover, The Chronicle of Xenon was filled with stories that could only come from extensive experience or from seeing such things firsthand.

This decisive evidence made it impossible to prove that 'Isaac is the author of The Chronicle of Xenon.' Cecily merely shrugged at Isaac's question.

"I just asked because I was curious. You like reading and writing, don't you? I wondered if maybe you were writing a book too."

"...No. I don't write books..."

"Is that so?"

Cecily slowly swirled her wineglass, watching the wine slosh inside it, before turning her gaze to Isaac.

Perhaps it was the alcohol. Isaac's every thought was usually written plainly on his face, but now it was difficult to tell what he was thinking.

People inevitably made mistakes when drunk, but Isaac was instead hiding things even more tightly. That only deepened her suspicions. Once a suspicion took root, it did not wither; it only grew stronger.

'I wish I could use magic or something, but... I absolutely can't.'

Magic had limitless applications. There were spells that could be used conveniently in daily life, as well as mental magic that could manipulate a person's mind and force them to blurt out their true feelings.

It was magic so complex that humans could not even attempt it, but Cecily was a demonfolk known as a master of magic. With a little effort, she could use it without difficulty.

However, magic could not be used at Halo Academy except in certain designated areas, and mental magic came with considerable risks and aftereffects. She could not go rummaging through the mind of someone she cared about just to gain certainty.

If he had been a complete stranger, she might have been inclined to do so, but he was Isaac, after all. Isaac was special to her as well, so she ought to treat him with care.

'Humans are numerous. There must be cases where things really do overlap by coincidence.'

Even if he was unusually considerate and thoughtful for his age, he was still only seventeen. On top of that, humans vastly outnumbered the other races, so there was no need to single out Isaac.

'Still, I should keep my suspicions.'

The chance that Isaac was the author was extremely low, but if he was connected to the author, the chance rose, if only slightly. Cecily spent a moment thinking carefully about who was around Isaac before checking his condition.

Isaac was almost unconscious. At this rate, he would collapse right there and fall asleep, so she needed to sit him down or take some other action.

"Isaac. Are you sure you're all right?"

"...Yeees."

"You don't look all right at all. Let's sit over there and rest."

Cecily pointed to a chair placed in a secluded corner of the grand auditorium. There was also a wall there, making it the perfect place to lean back and rest.

Isaac shifted his gaze in the direction she indicated, then began walking unsteadily. Holding a wineglass in one hand made for a slightly comical sight, but concern outweighed amusement.

She walked alongside him in case he fell, but she was still extremely uneasy. He looked like a newly hatched penguin chick toddling along after its parent.

"The alcohol... tastes... kind of good... hehe."

He had even begun grinning foolishly. Cecily watched him smile with a look of fresh surprise.

Isaac was normally taciturn, and it took occasional teasing to change his expression, but he rarely smiled at all. Even when he did, it was usually no more than a faint smirk; he never smiled as foolishly as he was now.

'He's even cuter when he smiles.'

The more she looked at him, the more he resembled a baby penguin. His build was not particularly small, yet he somehow seemed small, and even his distinctive appearance felt cute to her. Perhaps it was because he was so much younger than she was.

Even so, she would have to prohibit him from drinking excessively in the future. A rumor that he had become a laughingstock because he drank too much at a gathering like this would not be good for Isaac. She doubted he would care, given how indifferent he was to those around him, but it still made her uncomfortable.

"Rest here until you sober up, all right?"

"Yeees..."

"By the way, Isaac. Writing really isn't your hobby, is it?"

Cecily subtly reframed it as a hobby as she questioned him. Since Isaac was drunk and his mind was not functioning normally, she intended to get him to let slip as much evidence as possible.

Isaac stared at Cecily after hearing her question, then smiled sheepishly. He answered her with an innocent expression.

"I don't know anything about that..."

"... ..."

Cecily let out a faint laugh as she watched Isaac answer brightly like a child.

He was normally quite mature, but now he was like a little boy. They said alcohol revealed a person's true nature; was this Isaac's true nature? What a wholesome nature.

With that, Cecily placed a hand on top of Isaac's head and spoke gently. Her characteristic mischievousness had kicked in.

"That's right. Noona's going to go, so stay right here and behave. Isaac's a good boy, so you'll listen to Noona, right?"

"Yeees..."

"That's right. That's right. Isaac really is a good boy."

She gently stroked the top of his head. Perhaps he took special care of it, but his hair felt soft to the touch.

In the meantime, Isaac grinned just as foolishly as before while Cecily stroked him. His happiness was plainly visible.

"Then I'm leaving now. You have to stay right here, just like Noona said. Got it?"

"Yes!"

Cecily walked away after Isaac's energetic reply, but she did not forget to glance back at him as she went, just in case.

Isaac kept his back ramrod straight as he swayed from side to side like a roly-poly toy. Cecily felt slightly uneasy when she saw him, but she eventually brushed it off, thinking he would be fine.

It hadn't even been three minutes since Cecily began talking with the other people.

"Zzz..."

Isaac's eyes slowly closed, and he eventually fell sound asleep.