The road back home was uneventful.
They bought the tickets at the station and peacefully reached the city.
When they came closer, Cyril felt his body fill up with energy again.
He liked the sights of Shamrock Village, but he still felt more at home in this mana-rich place.
"It would be great to live somewhere with a mana vein and a good environment," Rhamn dreamed while on the way. Yeah...
Together with Myra, he returned to the academy closer to evening.
It looked quite empty at this time.
The lessons would continue on Monday, and there was still another day before that.
"See you," Cyril said goodbye to Myra and went towards his dorm.
The box was taken by Myra; she said she needs to remember where exactly the place they need is.
When it's time, she will find him, and they will visit it together.
For now Cyril was thinking about what he was going to do tomorrow; Rhamn was also suggesting ideas.
But his thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he noticed a figure near the dorm.
It was a mature woman in a black-and-white maid uniform, standing with her back straight. Sigh... it has still come to this.
When Cyril walked closer, the woman bowed her head low. "Greetings, master."
Her name was Ophelia, and she was the maid they employed at home.
Cyril's family didn't have as many servants as other nobles of the city.
His father, Arthur, was used to doing things on his own and disliked other people disturbing the peace of the house.
Still, the ex-knight didn't want to dirty his hands with house chores, so they hired some help.
And among them Ophelia was a maid even his father praised as someone competent.
What that meant was she was a good fighter and loyal.
Ophelia was also the one who trained Cyril when he was a child.
"How long were you standing here?" Cyril said with dissatisfaction in his voice.
"Since morning." Ophelia raised her head. "Master wishes to see you."
Cyril didn't think long about what to do next.
"Fine" He knew for a fact it was pointless to say anything to her at this time. She always executed her orders perfectly.
"Wait here; I'll come out soon." Cyril said after a brief contemplation.
He still needed to store a few things.
"We are traveling a lot lately."Yeah...
At his dorm, Cyril placed the Black Tulip back in the drawer where it belongs.
Once he was ready, he looked over his room. Goodbye again... And left to meet the maid.
"Let's go." He went in front, and she walked behind him at a perfect distance.
When they left the gates of the academy, Ophelia waved her hand, and a luxurious horseless carriage suddenly appeared in front of them.
It wasn't teleported here. This vehicle was parked outside all along; there was an invisibility spell working on it.
The whole carriage was equipped with numerous magic items, each with a wide array of uses.
Ophelia personally drove this horseless carriage around.
There were plans to find a dedicated person for this job, but Ophelia, in a rare display of self, said she liked it.
Since this thing wasn't used that often, as his father preferred relying on his own strength to move about, it was effectively given away as Ophelia's personal vehicle.
Cyril never liked being the passenger on it. Ophelia never knew what restraint was...
Ophelia opened the door, and Cyril bravely climbed up in a familiar manner.
The maid closed the door, came over to the driver's special seat, and elegantly sat on it in one jump.
One of the flaws in the technology behind this carriage was the fact that the driver needed to bear the mana cost of moving it.
After all, it wasn't connected to any manavein like the train.
Thankfully Ophelia had plenty of it to spare. She grabbed the wheel-shaped crystal in front of her and injected mana into it.
Soon the carriage started gaining speed, and fast.
Traveling at this time was one of the favorite things for Ophelia, since not that many things were on the road.
She could ride to her hearts content.
Cyril was already used to this, and Rhamn wasn't affected, but Morpho was scared silly, hiding on Cyril's shoulder, grabbing on to him with all her strength.
Rhamn looked at her with amusement in her eyes, but Cyril could definitely understand her.
Like this, they efficiently traveled all the way to the noble district, close to the Tower.
Cyril hasn't seen this place in a little more than a month, but it didn't look like the place has changed much.
The hellish carriage stopped in front of a comparatively modest mansion.
Ophelia calmly exited her throne, approached the passenger door, and opened it.
Cyril steadily landed his feet on the ground and took a few steps. It's been too long...
Morpho has turned into a pile of water on his shoulder; it will take some time for her to recover.
Cyril stretched a bit and turned to face Ophelia. "She looks so cold, but the way she drives is quite passionate."
"You haven't changed, I see," said Cyril.
"My apologies, young master, if you wish I could drive slower," Ophelia bowed and said.
Cyril did have thoughts of ordering her something like that in the past, but every time he stopped right before.
His intuition was telling him it's better he doesn't do that.
"You don't need to," said Cyril.
He had the illusion that the air around her became brighter.
Not thinking about it too much, Cyril entered the mansion.
Inside it was just as modest as on the outside.
While the halls and rooms were clean, there were few paintings or other decorations that are so prevalent in other noble homes.
As a result, however, the long empty spaces appeared cold and lifeless.
Coupled with the incredibly low amount of servants, the place gave off an eerie feeling, like it was haunted.
Cyril would've almost preferred his father to be more gaudy.
Together they've reached a certain room in the mansion.
Ophelia stopped following, bowed to him, and stood to the side.
Cyril opened the door on his own and went in.
It was an office. The head of the house sat behind a desk reading a piece of paper.
The moment Cyril closed the door behind him, the figure stopped whatever he was doing and looked him in the eyes.
"Welcome home." Arthur Felling's voice wasn't too warm when talking, even to his own son.
"What did you want?" Cyril immediately asked,. He didn't want to spend too much time here.
His father looked at him for a few seconds in silence before speaking in the same tone: "Can a father not simply wish to see his son?"
Cyril kept his silence.
"Let's have dinner together; it should be ready soon." Already used to such a reply, Arthur said while getting up from his chair.
At this moment his gaze shifted towards Morpho, still sitting on Cyril's shoulder. She was in no mood to fly around right now.
"What is this?" Said Arthur with slight disgust,. "Rude."
"This is Morpho. A butterfly I am taking care of." Simply replied Cyril,.
"I see," Arthur replied calmly, but his eyes still held a slight hostility when looking at Morpho.
He went out of the room, and Cyril followed after him soon.
"The food is already prepared," said Ophelia.
Arthur gave a nod and started walking.
In total silence, all of them went toward the dining room.
"Does your father dislike insects?" Asked Rhamn with confusion.
If that's the case, I didn't know before today.
On the way, Cyril talked with Rhamn, switching his attention from the oppressive silence.
Ophelia looked at the father-son duo with a difficult expression.
The dining room wasn't too big for a mansion this size.
Arthur sat at one end of the table, and Cyril sat at the opposite end.
Soon a servant brought out the dishes, and they started eating while Ophelia stood ready at the side.
The quality of the food was high; Cyril never saw a reason to complain about it before.
But now it tasted worse for some reason.
"Recently you have encountered your first demon." Suddenly Arthur asked a question. "What do you think of them?"
Cyril looked at his father; there was a slight solemn air around him.
"They were like mad beasts, but simple to defeat," Cyril said of his honest first impressions.
"The archdemon, however, was not as bloodthirsty as the rumors claimed, but he was incredibly strong," he added with some reverence to his tone.
Arthur went silent for a few seconds before saying, "The archdemons can differ greatly from one another, be it in character or in strength. There could even be one not stronger than a common soldier."
"I would say there is no true criteria for what an archdemon is. Ultimately it is just a human word for something we don't fully understand," said Arthur while staring somewhere in the air.
Cyril listened to his insights with interest. Usually his father is very reluctant to teach him anything.
But Arthur didn't say more on the matter; he moved his gaze back to his food.
My father was a knight, but I never hear any stories about fighting demons... Cyril thought with some helplessness.