Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Chapter 84: Root Cause (2)

Root Cause

2

Adam stepped forward, pressing a hand to the willow’s trunk. The tree stirred, its slender leaves rustling in a wind that wasn’t there, trailing like dainty ribbons in the air. Some loosened from their stems, drifting lazily, aimlessly downward.

It wasn’t a reaction of irritation; Eydis could tell by its softness. The deep scent of earth and fresh greenery washed through the room. She felt as though she had walked in on something deeply personal.

She stepped away from the tree before she even realised it.

“The flu…” Adam’s blue eyes fixed on the willow’s trunk. “…The one that spread across the globe. Elias caught it, I think, and at first, it seemed normal. Fever, body aches, nosebleeds sometimes. Nothing strange for winter.”

“And?” Astra asked.

“I don’t know,” Adam admitted. “Something felt…off. The flu was showing up in where it shouldn’t, in tropical climates. So I dug into Professor Le Bleu’s work, tried applying some of it to help Elias.”

“Professor Le Bleu?” Eydis repeated.

Adam nodded. “Yeah, he’s kind of infamous, especially his research on Gifted physiology. And this flu… was messing with the brain, like the blood was moving too fast, like something was forcing it past its limits.”

His blue eyes darted to Astra. “But for Gifted, it’s not just blood. Our magic runs through our nervous system, like a second power source. So to me, it looked like Elias was dealing with unstable mana surges. Maybe even leakage.”

“I thought if I could correct that flow, I could help him,” he finished.

Eydis studied him, her gaze thoughtful, almost approving. “Your logic is surprisingly sound, Adam. No wonder…” She smiled, soft and genuine.

The smile did something to his heart. He shoved the thought away. No time for that. 

Turning back to the willow tree, he said, “But the moment I touched his head, he… well, he got worse. He stopped speaking, and five days ago, I came back from school and…”

His fingers traced the willow’s bark. The leaves fluttered a fraction faster. “I guess he decided to put himself in the tree….”

Eydis didn’t bother hiding her amusement. Astra tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly. Adam, lost in thought, noticed neither.

He tapped his lips. “…For hibernation. To keep his arcane energy stable. So I’ve been researching, refining my technique in the meantime. Water mages can reach the Arcane Heart and stabilise it using a combination of our own mana and water.”

“Well, look at you. A diagnosis, a cure. Seems like you’ve got everything figured out.” Eydis said in a light tone. “Now, forgive me if I’m missing something, but at what point do I become necessary?”

“I… I couldn’t stabilise his Arcane Heart, his manacore,” Adam blurted. “But with your connection, or just your brilliance… maybe you can see something I couldn’t.”

“I’m sure the academy’s doctors could,” Eydis said airily. Then her tone dipped slightly. “Especially since Elias is a D-Class Gifted. Stabilising him shouldn’t be that difficult, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I…”

“You helped a D-Class just now, didn’t you?” Astra asked.

“Jeremiah,” Eydis supplied, glancing at Astra. “Who, I’m fairly certain, was crushing on you.” She leaned closer to Astra’s ear. “Did I use crush correctly?”

Astra blinked, a faint pink dusting her cheeks before she scowled. “I don’t know who he is.” Then, after a pause, she turned slightly, voice lowering to something only Eydis could hear.

“…Is that why you did that? In front of him?”

Eydis smiled. “Even if, assuming, I had some ulterior motive…” Then she leaned in again.

Adam wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw Eydis’s lips brush Astra’s ear. He briefly debated whether he was supposed to be watching this.

The debate ended when Eydis kept going.

“Assuming, of course, I wanted to remind a certain observer that staring has consequences…”

And then— 

And then—

She dared to catch the edge of Astra’s black earring between her teeth, holding it just long enough for Astra’s breath to visibly stutter. Then she executed a slow pull, gently dragging Astra’s earlobe along with the earring before finally releasing it.

Adam watched the shift in Astra’s eyes and wondered if time itself had…

Dilated.

He blinked, and again.

“But thoughts like that become rather irrelevant,” Eydis murmured softly, “when you’re this close to me.”

Adam’s mind experienced what he hated most: the bluescreen of death. Because he had heard that. Every single word. And, unfortunately, he had also seen the look Astra gave Eydis: smouldering, deciding.

Deciding how, exactly, she should silence her.

Against the bed? The wall? THE TREE?!

And Eydis wasn’t just saying it. She meant it. Because either she had momentarily forgotten that he was right here, that they were still in his room, or she simply did not care.

She hadn’t even attempted to be subtle.

Astra opened her mouth, her breath still uneven, but before she could speak—

Adam hit the panic button.

“It’s—Joseph!” he blurted, his voice higher than he would have liked. Derail. Derail. Derail.

There was absolutely no way he was letting them reenact the library incident here and now. Especially not in front of, or worse, against Elias, the willow tree.

He might have considered telling them to get a room. But…

But this was already a room. His room, but he had a feeling they didn’t care.

And at the rate things were going, he and Elias were moments away from becoming airborne.

Eydis turned to him slowly, like a villain in a movie despite missing the violin score and thunderclap.

Adam immediately understood that she valued his presence in this room at approximately negative infinity. She looked like she was deciding whether throwing him out the window was too much effort.

Panicked, he turned to Astra, searching desperately for an ally. Surely, she’d be the reasonable one here.

Critical miscalculation.

Astra’s glare was pure, unfiltered murder.

If she had the ability to erase him, the willow tree, and possibly the surrounding campus from existence with a single thought, she would have done it already.

Wait.

Could she actually do that? What was her ability again, when she wasn’t terrifying people with her wooden sword?

In that moment, Adam learned two important things:

1. Regret was real.
2. Windows were always an option.

But, unfortunately, Elias still needed their help.

And so, with the weight of two very different yet equally terrifying stares upon him, Adam did what any self-respecting man would do.

He kept on rambling.

“Right, so! Joseph! He was easier because he’s a Fire-affinity Gifted. I mean, Water and Fire, they, well, they complement each other, as you saw, right, Eydis? Elias’s Arcane Heart, however, is… nature. Vines and trees and, um… nature things. A bit more nuanced, you see.”

He was floundering, grasping at stray thoughts.

Eydis sighed theatrically. “And here I was, under the quaint delusion that water, the very essence of life itself, was universally calming. Shouldn’t it, in your expert opinion, have a similar effect on flora? Didn’t you just say you believed that?”

Adam opened his mouth, then closed it again. His brain scrambled for an equation that would somehow prove him not an idiot.

Eydis glanced at Astra, her brow lifting in an attempt at silent communication.

Astra didn’t move a muscle. A slight shift of her wrist, and light gathered, solidifying into a brilliant diamond-edged blade.

Adam paled instantly. Now he remembered her power.

In a panic, water shot instinctively toward Astra’s wrist. “Stop,” he said. Once. All of him meant it.

Eydis stepped into his space, close enough that he caught the faint scent of something contradictory: cool lavender, rich sandalwood. Clean and sharp. Calming and dangerous.

Much like her.

“Such a strong reaction. Astra simply offered a practical solution, didn’t she?” She cast a teasing glance over her shoulder. “Isn’t that right, roomie?”

Roomie my gluteus maximus, Adam thought darkly, censoring himself even in his own head.

“I’m cutting open the trunk.” Astra’s words was a statement of intent. Not a threat.

Which made it worse.

Adam’s face drained of colour. “Wait—no, what?”

Eydis turned to Astra. “I must say, I rather admire the understated effectiveness of that approach.” She sighed, then, with mock disappointment. “But Astra, didn’t you say no violence?”

Astra’s expression shifted. To a smile.

Adam’s stomach plummeted. “Oh no,” he whispered. “She’s smiling.”

During his lapse in focus, Astra slipped free of his hold. She took a step toward Eydis. Her voice turned husky. “I did.”

Eydis blinked.

Her surprise lasted only as long as it took for her back to meet the rough bark of the tree.

“You expected rewards,” Astra murmured, lifting a hand and pressing it against the willow’s trunk, just beside Eydis’s head. “If you behave?”

Trapped.

The tree itself didn’t seem to have the energy to protest anymore.

Eydis exhaled. “I… did.”

“So what happens if…” She leaned in, speaking so softly it felt like a secret. Adam really, really wished he hadn’t heard it. But he had. “... I misbehave?”

Eydis stilled. 

Then came colour.

Adam saw it. The impossible.

He’d seen her often, always with that faraway amusement, as if nothing ever touched her deeply. The way she quietly watched people. The way her smile never quite reached her eyes. The way her friendliness felt more like a mask than anything sincere.

And yet. Now. She blushed.

He understood, instinctively. 

This was not a good sign. 

Not a good sign at all.

“Astra!” Adam’s voice cracked horribly. “Eydis is right! Could we put the knife away?!”

Eydis glanced at him, and he thought she might actually be grateful for the distraction. But then, something dark flickered behind her amber eyes.

“What do you think, Astra? Bark or bite?” she asked.

“Bite.” Astra replied without blinking.

Eydis smirked. “Astra is right. It’s for Elias’s own good, of course.” She smiled sweetly. “It’s just a tree, Adam. You’re acting as if we’re about to commit murder.”

Adam did not feel reassured. Water coiled to his will, locking around Astra’s wrist once again.

“D-Class Gifted treatment is simple,” Eydis continued. “We extract Elias, bring him to the infirmary—”

“I am in the student council,” Astra added. “The only one left, apparently.”

“Which means Elias gets priority treatment.” Eydis’s grin widened. “Ah, the joys of favouritism. Don’t you just love the system, Adam?”

Adam’s water magic wavered around Astra’s wrist. “I… I mean, thank you for offering, but—”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were hiding Elias from the teachers,” Eydis teased. “Does your urgency have anything to do with the Primrose dormitory being vacated soon?”

She made a languid show of pushing at the tree’s trunk with the flat of her hand, but the willow remained stubbornly rooted, its magic refusing to be undone by strength alone.

“What would happen if the doctors examined Elias?” Astra asked.

“They’d be in for a root awakening,” Eydis purred.

Adam groaned.

“Perhaps we should find out.” Astra didn’t hesitate. The blade slipped from her ensnared wrist, golden light catching in the air before landing in her free hand. The motion was effortless, elegant.

Adam choked. “Wait, wait! I’ll talk!”

The tip of Astra’s blade hovered dangerously close to the bark.

Casually, Eydis rested a hand on Astra’s shoulder, the blade dissolving into stardust. “Adam, you should know… it’s quite rude to keep secrets when you’re the one asking for help.”

Her voice dropped. “Elias isn’t just a D-Class, is he?”

She turned, reaching for the willow, tugged lightly at the leaves. The trunk reacted instantly. “And he didn’t just hide in the tree.”

Adam’s hands clenched. His mind raced. He shut his eyes and inhaled sharply, then exhaled.

Eydis was the Queen of Shadows. One of them. He had made his choice. He had chosen to trust her over the academy, over their ties to the Council and the Van Nassaus.

Because they both knew what the Council did to those they labeled anomalies: research, dissection.

And Elias was running out of time.

Adam’s eyes snapped open. “You’ve probably guessed already, Eydis.” His fingers still trembled. “Elias is a shapeshifter, one who can alter his very molecular structure. Not just mimic faces or forms, but become anything.”

He took another breath.

“He isn’t inside the tree.”

…

“He is the tree.”