Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 102: Archmage Mandira

Chapter 102: Archmage Mandira

The polished oak door of the principal’s office at Sturgon Academy loomed before Princess Maria. She raised her hand, hesitating for a heartbeat before knocking firmly. From within, a soft, feminine voice called, "Come in."

Maria pushed the door open and stepped into a scene that felt like stepping into a dream. Books floated in midair, their pages turning as if guided by invisible hands. A quill scribbled furiously on a parchment, untouched, while a teacup stirred itself gently on a nearby table. At the center of this orchestrated chaos sat a woman whose presence commanded the room.

Her hair shimmered with hues of violet and pink, cascading over her shoulders like a twilight sky. Her face, sharp and radiant, could rival any princess’s beauty. She was Archmage Mandira, sister to the King of Sturgon, and a figure Maria had admired since their meeting in Harlow years ago.

Now in her middle age, Mandira’s presence was even more striking, her body exuding a confident allure that filled the room. Her figure was voluptuous, with a busty chest that strained subtly against the elegant, form-fitting robes she wore, their deep indigo fabric accentuating her curves. Her hips and rear were equally pronounced, rounded and full, giving her movements a graceful yet commanding sway as she glided across the office.

Despite her age, there was nothing diminished about her; instead, her maturity lent her an air of poised sensuality, as if time had only refined her beauty into something more captivating. Every gesture, from the way she settled into her chair to the casual flick of her wrist as she controlled the floating books, seemed to underscore her effortless blend of power and allure.

Mandira’s eyes flicked up, meeting Maria’s with a knowing smile. The floating books didn’t falter, nor did the quill pause. With a graceful wave, Mandira descended to her chair, settling into it with an elegance that made the room feel smaller. "Archmage Mandira," Maria greeted, bowing slightly.

"Yes, Princess Maria, It is nice to see you after your welcome ceremony." Mandira replied, her voice smooth as silk. "You must be wondering why I summoned you."

Maria nodded. "I assume it’s about the attack on me. The academy and the Harlow Empire have decided to limit my outings in the city, haven’t they?"

Mandira leaned back, her fingers steepled. "Precisely. They want you to confine your cultural exchange to the academy and its immediate surroundings. They’re terrified of another incident."

Maria’s brow furrowed. "But will that truly be a cultural exchange? Hiding within these walls?"

Mandira’s lips curved into a wry smile. "Probably not. But they can’t risk you dying on Sturgon soil." She sighed, her tone shifting to one of exasperation. "Honestly, these officials are such scaredy-cats. Surviving that attack proves you’re strong enough to handle yourself, doesn’t it? Fearing attacks of these good for nothing is more than embarrassing!"

Maria’s face lit up with a grin. This was the Mandira she remembered—bold, unafraid, and ready to face danger head-on. Rumors swirled that Mandira, the strongest mage in Sturgon, often clashed with Lord Juno, the kingdom’s mightiest knight. Their rivalry was legendary, though laced with mutual respect. Whispers of a secret romance between them had once circulated, only to be met with fiery denials from both parties and sometimes disgust.

"That’s not why I called you here, though, You can just go anywhere. I believe you are not weak enough to die." Mandira said, her tone growing serious. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a metal ingot, its surface stained with dried blood. Maria’s eyes narrowed as Mandira placed it on the desk. "Take a look at this. Use your Perception."

Maria tilted her head, curious. Mandira’s gaze softened as she explained, "Your Perception is extraordinary, Maria. You sense things we can’t—vibrations, essences, traces of energy that linger in objects. It’s a gift any mage would kill for." Her voice took on a wistful note. "It’s a pity you chose the path of a knight. I’ll admit, it made me resent Sir Juno even more, though I know that’s just misdirected anger."

Maria suppressed a smile. Mandira’s disdain for Juno was no secret, though the rumors of their supposed affair always amused her. She picked up the ingot, its cold weight heavy in her palm. Closing her eyes, she let her Perception flow. The world around her faded, and the ingot pulsed with a strange, alien energy. It was as if it didn’t belong to this plane, its essence foreign and disjointed. Her eyes snapped open, and she dropped the ingot with a clatter. "This... it feels wrong. Like it existed somewhere else, not here. Composition of this...it feels familiar like I’ve seen this somewhere else."

Mandira’s eyes gleamed. "Exactly what I sensed. This isn’t an ordinary ingot." She leaned forward. "Guess where we found it?"

Maria frowned. "Where?"

"On the roof of the building where you were attacked," Mandira said. "Covered in blood splashes. We believe another party was involved."

Maria’s mind raced. "But only the assassins were on the roof. If there was blood, someone else was there... someone who might have helped me?"

Mandira nodded. "That’s the mystery. We don’t know who they are, but I intend to find out. And I need your help, Maria. I have a plan."

Meanwhile, across the academy grounds, Christina slipped through the shadowed corridors and to the academy gardens, her heart pounding. Classes had ended, and she was on a mission to find Shennong, the elusive figure who always seemed to vanish when she needed him most.

Her footsteps were silent, her eyes darting around for any sign of him. But as she rounded a corner, she froze. A group of students—followers of some pompous count—blocked her path, their expressions smug.

"Well, well," sneered a girl with sharp features, stepping forward. "Christina, isn’t it? Care to explain why you were seen climbing out of Princess Maria’s carriage like some thief? Is it proper for a daughter of a baron to breath same air as Harlow’s princess? Our peace ambassador?"

Christina’s jaw tightened, but her eyes flickered past the group, scanning the surroundings. "I’m extremely sorry about it," she muttered, distracted.

The girl’s face reddened. "You think you’re above us? You—" She raised her hand to slap Christina, but before her palm could connect, a foul stench filled the air. With a wet splat, a heap of stinky cow feces buried the group, splattering their fine clothes. They shrieked, flailing as the crowd around them erupted into laughter, hands clamping over noses.

Christina’s gaze snapped to a man lounging under a nearby tree, his lips curled in a mischievous smirk. Shennong. She gave him a subtle nod, then bolted, signaling him to follow, as she ignored the noble girls almost dying on the floor covered in feaces.

In the safety of her dorm room, Christina paced, her nerves frayed. A soft creak behind her made her jump, and she spun to find Shennong standing there, grinning. "How did you—?!" she gasped.

He pointed to a loose floorboard. "Dug a path. Easier than doors."

Christina gaped. "How many tunnels have you dug around the capital?"

Shennong shrugged. "Lost count. Keeps things interesting to dig new one everytime."

"You’re insane," she said, but her tone softened. "Thank you for back there. That was... creative. I’m tired of them."

He waved it off. "Nothing to it."

Christina hesitated, then stepped closer. "I’m sorry if I’ve been cold to you. It’s not you. I’m just... scared. If people find out about you, my mother could suffer. Infidelity isn’t taken lightly here."

Shennong’s expression softened. He pulled her into a gentle hug. "If that ever happens, I’ll take care of you both. I’ll give you more than this nation ever could. I honestly have no reason to sneak around like this...but I don’t want to bring any problems to Cassandra, so don’t worry I will be careful."

Christina hugged him back little hesitant because he was rather attractive, a small smile breaking through her face. "Cocky as ever." She pulled away, her face turning serious. "But that’s not why I needed to see you. You said you caught the two assassins who attacked Princess Maria, right?"

Shennong nodded. "Yeah. Still got ’em. They’re not awake, though. Dropped a couple of iron ingots on their heads. They were... weaker than I expected."

Christina snorted. "The assassins, not the ingots, I hope."

He grinned. "Obviously."

"I want to question them," she said. "I need to know who tried to kill Princess Maria. She’s been helping me, and I owe her."

Shennong’s eyes narrowed. "Why’s it so important to you?"

"Because I want to do something right for once," Christina said fiercely. "Maria’s been kind to me, and I’m not letting her down."

Shennong studied her, then nodded. "Easy enough. Hold my hand."

"What—?"

Before she could protest, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the loose floorboard. With a swift tug, they dropped into the dark tunnel below, the world above fading as they descended into the unknown.

"We’re going to meet those assassins! You can torture and question them there," Shennong muttered. Christina didn’t know how to react, as everything was happening too quickly for her.

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