Time Healer Ceres - Chapter 56

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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‘Do you know the whereabouts of the other two keys?’
‘No.’
The leader of Sky shifted even his tone in an instant.
Having pursued the keys’ location for so long, his gaze grew plaintive as he asked—and Seres, as she stood now, had nothing to offer him.
There were three Black Keys in total.
And three people held them.
Herself—Grace Elrsia—and…….
‘Artia. And… Kainel.’
After all, it was the three of them who had founded Sky in the first place.
Back then, the very concept of buying and selling information didn’t exist.
There were no professionals who dealt in intelligence. Everything came through the power of one’s house alone.
Sky was born from frustration with that limitation.
‘Isn’t the name a bit tacky?’
‘What’s wrong with it? Sky! That’s cool! It means all information under heaven belongs to us.’
‘You think it’s tacky, Grace. Let’s change it.’
‘Change it? To what? Garaal? You frozen automaton, Sky’s infinitely better than any name you could come up with!’
‘We each contributed a character to it. What’s the problem?’
‘The problem? It’s completely childish! And why is my name last!’
‘Both of you, stop. We’re keeping it as Sky.’
‘See? Even Grace agrees Garaal is terrible!’
‘Really, Grace?’
……
‘Stop asking! Grace won’t even look at you!’
“Yulia, what do you think of the name Garaal?”
“Sounds like the name of some demon that lived a thousand years ago.”
Right, exactly. That name didn’t work at all.
Garaal—what was that even? Sky was far better.
In any case, they’d established the information network in secret and managed it together as partners.
Though they’d never stepped into the public eye themselves.
They’d appointed a separate leader to head the organization, while the three of them supported it from behind—nothing more than arranging to extract information as needed.
In exchange, Artia had created the Black Keys. She insisted they needed a mark to prove they were the founders, should circumstances ever demand it.
‘So you’re saying you don’t know where the other two are?’
It seemed Artia had never passed her key to anyone else.
She herself had done the same.
Even to Enock, her cherished student, she’d given nothing—only locked her key away in a Subspace.
‘I made this organization. I only needed to use it myself.’
From the start, she’d created the network to serve as a practical tool when needed—never intending to monopolize it through endless inheritance.
It was an organization she’d grown fond of, and she’d hoped it would thrive of its own accord.
Artia and Kainel had agreed on that point.
That’s probably why Artia never passed her Black Key to the next generation either.
‘As for Kai…….’
Who could say? Having remained in the Persha Duchy for so long, it was natural he’d never set foot in the organization, wasn’t it?
The very fact that Sky’s leader was asking about the whereabouts of the other two keys showed as much.
Not a soul had ever come forward holding a key all this time.
If only I’d had the money. I’d have hired another intelligence network instead.
“You have to believe in my innocence, Yulia. You have to. I truly didn’t want to disturb that quiet sky. But what choice did I have? There was no other way to resolve it cleanly.”
“Um, I do believe you. But I don’t understand what you’re saying right now.”
“Such things happen. Come now, let’s finish your assignment.”
“Okay.”
Seres pulled the child sitting on her lap closer still, resting her chin atop Yulia’s head as her daughter’s hands moved deftly across the desk.
Soon her gaze drifted toward the window.
‘If I’d hired someone else, I wouldn’t have acquired such a tedious attachment.’
Seres gazed absently at a place shrouded in deep shadow, then gave a light shake of her head.
“Where is Antonien, by the way?”
Seres checked the sky, now thick with sunset, and asked after her younger brother’s whereabouts.
Plenty of time had passed since he should’ve returned from the Academy—so where had he gone?
“He’s been coming home late every day recently.”
“Every day?”
“Yeah. He says he’s been training late.”
…Training?
What’s this about? Not classes—training?
“Sister.”
Yulia caught the confusion in Seres’s expression and gave her a mildly reproachful look.
“You don’t know what department he’s in?”
What? Why do I feel like I’m being scolded right now?
“What department is Antonien in?”
“Swordsmanship.”
“Huh?”
“He learns the blade, remember?”
* * *
“Huff… huff….”
“Damn it…….”
“Wheeze…….”
Darkness was beginning to settle over the Academy’s Training Grounds.
Students who should have left long ago were scattered across the grounds in clusters.
The problem was that some of them lay sprawled on the floor.
About ten students in total, every one of them covered head to toe in dust, as if they’d been rolled across the ground dozens of times.
Meanwhile, those standing around them in a circle looked utterly unmarked.
“For the next week, it’s you lot who’ll be cleaning and organizing the Training Grounds.”
“Why bother setting a deadline? We’ll be doing it every time anyway.”
“Exactly.”
The children’s faces were full of scorn.
“Huff… huff…. When did we ever agree to this!”
“Oh, why change your tune now? You agreed that whoever lost the sparring match would have to do it.”
“You lot… wheeze… made that rule up on the spot!”
“Then you should’ve won. Who lost?”
“You really……!”
One of the fallen students, Antonien, clenched his teeth.
He fought to catch his ragged breath and shouted with all his strength, but it only deepened the contempt in their laughter.
“Let’s go.”
“Yeah.”
“Clean up well.”
Watching them saunter away, Antonien’s fists clenched tight. But then, with a long sigh, he let the tension drain from his entire body.
He’d lost count of how many times this had happened. How many times they’d done this to him.
Did he deserve to be tormented just because his skill was weaker?
“Huff… damn…….”
“So sick of this…….”
“This is hell. Huff…….”
He turned his head and saw his groupmates, their own faces flushed with barely concealed rage.
Group A had been tormenting them under the guise of sparring for over half a year now.
Back in early spring, when the groups were divided by ability for efficiency, their harassment had begun.
Of course, as someone learning the blade, he could have accepted such sparring readily enough. After all, it was experience that could sharpen his skills.
“They call it sparring, but they’re just playing with us!”
“Agreed…. I never dreamed that contempt and ridicule paired with beatings could masquerade as sparring.”
“They block us from practicing if we don’t spar, and the instructors won’t even listen to our complaints. Honestly, I’ve given up on the instructors. It just makes my jaw ache talking.”
Antonien signaled his agreement with silence.
When the groups were divided, the instructors had clearly considered bloodline as well—none of them dared truly reprimand the Group A students, who were composed entirely of high-ranking nobles’ children.
‘We ought to be ashamed of our weakness!’
The instructors themselves looked down on them with pity and reproach.
“I thought once we got into the Academy, we’d made it.”
“My parents think I’m already a knight.”
“Damn it…….”
Voices full of frustration erupted from all around.
They’d entered with ambitious dreams, but reality was proving merciless. This wasn’t even formal discrimination—it was pure hazing, and they couldn’t get proper training because of it.
“Is it a crime to be poor and weak!”
“Yeah. It is.”
“……?”
“If you’ve got no money, no power, and no skill—that’s a crime.”
Then came a voice none of them knew.
Antonien, the only one who had ever heard that voice before, jolted upright.
“…Sister.”
It was Seres.
She stood there staring blankly at him sprawled on the ground and the other students scattered around him.
Pat-pat.
Seres drew closer and brushed the dust from Antonien’s back with light taps, then met his gaze steadily.
“What’s all this?”
“Just passing through.”
“Just passing through…”
Despite the bafflement in her eyes, Seres said nothing more and finished dusting off his dirt-covered frame.
A few days earlier, Seres had heard through Yulia that Antonien was learning Swordsmanship, and since then she had been watching the boy closely.
After sunset, trudging back looking haggard and worn—that was Antonien every evening.
At first she’d thought he was simply practicing hard, but when he kept returning covered head to toe in dirt, she couldn’t help but grow curious.
What kind of training was it that left him in such a state every single time?
To satisfy her curiosity, Seres had gone to the Academy herself and witnessed her younger brother being mercilessly pounded by children his own age.
Not sparring, not practice—but being utterly trampled, pure and simple.
“Antonien.”
“…What.”
How long had she been watching?
Had she seen him being dragged around by the other boys like that?
At the sound of Seres’s voice, Antonien’s jaw tightened without his realizing it.
Embarrassment burned in his chest, and something else—a dull ache of indignation.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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