Go with the flow

Anchor point…

This word, like a key, unlocked the greatest mystery surrounding the tragedy of the First Child of Chaos within my heart.

Simultaneously, it offered a hazy, yet profoundly significant, direction for my own future course.

The connections between people, perhaps, held the key to stabilizing the destructive power raging within me.

Yet, this revelation brought me not joy, but rather a profound… vexation.

For I, whether in my past life as a librarian or in this current role as Lilliana, the villainess I was forced to embody…

was inherently someone who was profoundly inept at, and even deliberately shied away from, forging deep interpersonal connections.

My entire world, prior to my transmigration, had been meticulously constructed between the towering shelves of a library.

I cherished knowledge, adored the wisdom and tales that lay preserved in ancient tomes, transcending the boundaries of time and space.

Rather than deciphering the intricate thoughts required when interacting with others, I much preferred to spend an entire afternoon in the silent archives, meticulously restoring a damaged ancient text.

The profound sense of accomplishment derived from piecing together fragmented history was my ultimate pursuit and deepest joy.

Yet, fate, with a cruel twist, had propelled me to the antithetical extreme of this paradox.

It declared that if I wished to serenely pursue my sole passion in this world—the study of countless magical tomes…

Then I must first accomplish the very task I was most ill-equipped for: forging connections.

This was, quite simply, a hellish paradox, a vicious cycle with no apparent end.

I mused silently, a knot of vexation tightening within me…

…No, perhaps… it was not entirely without a solution.

Seated in the study, my gaze fixed upon the crimson moon hanging outside the window, a thought, like a sudden bolt of lightning, cleaved through my contemplation.

‘Why should I deliberately strive to deepen connections?’

‘I merely needed to… pursue my genuine desires.’

And those connections, perhaps, would naturally… and incidentally, form as I dedicated myself to what I truly cherished.

My profound passion lay in knowledge, in ancient texts.

And within this academy, several individuals happened to possess intricate ties to the realm of knowledge.

Consider… Ella Smith.

In the original game’s narrative, while Ella was undeniably a prodigy in light magic, her grasp of theoretical knowledge was notably weak.

Particularly in the history of ancient magic—a discipline that profoundly valued legacy and historical continuity—she was, without a doubt, an utter academic failure.

Kind and diligent, she nonetheless lacked the systematic noble education that would have bolstered her studies.

Consequently, she frequently found herself distressed by her poor performance in theoretical courses.

Midway through the game, a pivotal plot development occurred when Prince Alexis, in his endeavor to tutor her, spent a warm afternoon with Ella in the library.

This shared experience significantly deepened their burgeoning affections.

‘What if… I were to use knowledge as my entry point?’

‘For instance, by subtly highlighting flaws in her study methods, or perhaps by suggesting more accessible introductory texts?’

To me, such actions would simply align with my inherent duties as a librarian.

They would be logical, entirely unforced, and indeed, the only approach I could genuinely accept.

Then there was… Beatrix Eisen.

Within the game’s lore, Beatrix was celebrated as a fencing prodigy.

However, the Eisen-style sword technique she had inherited was, in truth, a fragmented and incomplete ancient art.

Her family had tirelessly sought a means to complete this ancient sword art, yet their efforts had yielded no discernible progress.

This unresolved quest remained a deep-seated burden within her heart.

A notable side quest in the game depicted the Prime Minister’s son leveraging his informational advantage to locate a rare, solitary volume pertinent to her family’s martial art.

This act earned him her initial, albeit tentative, trust.

‘Within Lilliana’s own family library, it seemed…’

‘There just so happened to be such a volume, one collected by an ancestor during their extensive travels…’

‘What if I were to subtly lend her this very book?’

My reasoning would be purely from the perspective of knowledge dissemination: ‘This book merely gathers dust in my possession; it would be far better for it to be utilized by someone who genuinely needs it, allowing its value to be fully realized.’

For me, it would simply be ensuring that knowledge served its intended purpose.

Yet, for Beatrix, this might represent a favor of… immeasurable magnitude, one capable of profoundly altering the destiny of her entire lineage.

A clarity began to settle within my heart.

I need not portray anyone else, nor did I have to deliberately curry favor or maintain distance.

My only requirement was to revert to being the librarian who cherished ancient texts and revered knowledge.

I would engage with the people and events of this world on my own terms.

As for the connections that might form, or the reactions that might be sparked as a result…

Those outcomes would lie entirely beyond my ability to control.

The following morning, as I stepped once more into the S-class classroom, the confusion and calculated demeanor of yesterday had vanished from my heart.

I calmly received the collective gazes directed my way, making my path toward my assigned seat.

Ella was already seated.

Upon seeing me, she promptly rose, her face adorned with a blush that spoke of both delight and a touch of apprehension.

“Good… good morning! Miss Eckhart!”

“Good morning.”

I offered a faint nod, acknowledging her greeting, before settling into my own seat.

My brief acknowledgment caused Ella to nearly bubble over with happiness.

However, recalling the incident with the cookies yesterday, she seemed hesitant to approach too closely, instead casting furtive glances my way with her bright, sparkling eyes.

Disregarding her, I instead retrieved a thick, hardbound book, wrapped in black velvet, from my satchel.

I placed it deliberately upon my desk.

Subsequently, I began arranging my textbooks, readying myself for the impending lecture.

Time ticked by, moment by painstaking moment.

Ella, seated beside me, was visibly captivated by the ancient aura emanating from the book.

She shifted restlessly, craning her neck, on several occasions appearing on the verge of inquiry, only to forcibly restrain herself each time.

It was not until the class bell was poised to ring that I, as if only just concluding my preparations, finally turned my head to regard her.

“Smith.”

“Yes!”

She instantly stiffened, her posture as rigid as a startled rabbit’s.

I met her gaze, her green eyes sparkling with an undeniable curiosity, and spoke in an even, measured tone:

“From your demeanor yesterday, it seemed you were encountering some difficulties with the theoretical study of magic history.”

“Eh? I… I…”

Ella’s face flushed crimson in an instant, as though her innermost thoughts had been laid bare, rendering her somewhat incoherent.

“Your study methods are remarkably inefficient.”

I stated her flaw without preamble, my tone unwavering.

“You endeavor to rote-memorize arcane ancient texts and historical dates, yet you overlook the crucial understanding of the underlying logic and progression of magical evolution.

Such an approach will only yield meager results for disproportionate effort.”

As I spoke, I gently slid the book from my desk, pushing it toward her.

“This book, which I discovered within my family’s private library, is an ancestor’s travelogue.

It chronicles, in a relatively accessible language, their research and conjectures on the origins of various magical schools encountered during extensive travels across different nations.

Perhaps… it might offer you a more engaging perspective from which to comprehend those otherwise dry historical accounts.”

I paused for a moment, then appended a further condition.

“Of course, I will only lend it to you for three days.

You must return it to me after reading, and… no damage whatsoever is permitted.”

With that, I ceased to look at her, turning my attention back to my own affairs.

I adopted an air of detached professionalism, as though I were simply ‘handling a book that was nearing its return deadline.’

Beside me, Ella had, by this point, completely petrified.

She gazed, utterly bewildered, at the volume resting on the desk…

A priceless, solitary travelogue, bearing the undeniable imprint of my family’s heritage.

Then her eyes flickered to my profile, a cool and impassive mask utterly devoid of emotion.

Her mind, once more overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the information it struggled to process, entered a state of blissful, ecstatic overload.

She remained entirely oblivious, failing to grasp that this was merely a librarian’s… professional impulse, triggered by an academic slacker they simply couldn’t bear to witness.

All she understood was that…

This powerful, beautiful, seemingly aloof, yet always expressing her kindness in such a clumsy manner, Lady Lilliana…

had actually… silently observed her academic struggles, and furthermore… had specifically sought out such an invaluable reference text just for her.

Such a profound level of concern had far surpassed anything she could have possibly imagined.

Meanwhile, at the front of the classroom, His Royal Highness the Prince, who had observed the entire exchange, felt his hand, clutching a quill, unconsciously clench for the very first time.