Chapter 12: The Man Who Knows

  Meliodas stared wide-eyed at the emblem on his chest, the number still burning clearly in his mind.

  Slowly, he turned to Tyka.

  The half-giant’s face had fallen, worry etched into every line of it, as a heavy silence settled between them.

  Tyka spoke first.

  “I’m… sorry, bro,” he said quietly. “I know that isn’t the result you were expecting.”

  Before Tyka could continue, Meliodas’ expression broke, a wide smile spread across his face.

  Tyka froze, staring at him in shock, as if Meliodas had finally lost his mind.

  “Are you kidding?” Meliodas said, almost laughing. “Tyka, this is great. Truly great.”

  Tyka blinked, completely at a loss, as Meliodas’ grin only grew wider.

  “You okay, bro?” Tyka asked carefully.

  “You kidding?” Meliodas laughed. “I’m great.”

  Tyka scratched the back of his head.

  “I don’t get it,” he said. “Didn’t you tell me there was a lot of pressure from your family? Don’t get me wrong, rank twenty-two is good, but for a prince… I don’t know.”

  Meliodas shook his head, still smiling.

  “That’s exactly why it is good,” he said. “My family never expected me to follow my sister’s footsteps and take the number one spot. With this… I’m free, truly free, Tyka. Don’t you see? The expectations my family had are gone, now they know what to expect.”

  He let out a quiet breath, then added more softly,

  “Honestly, my father was even worried I might not get into the academy at all.”

  He paused, then spoke again,

  “To be honest, I was expecting worse. This? This actually amazes me. My father will be delighted.”

  Tyka stared at him for a moment, then shrugged.

  “Whatever you say, bro.”

  Meliodas started pacing back and forth, completely forgetting the pain in his body as adrenaline surged through him.

  “This is great,” he muttered, then said it louder. “This is really great.”

  Tyka threw an arm around his shoulders and raised his other fist in the air. Meliodas bumped it with a grin.

  “Congrats, bro,” Tyka said, laughing. “But don’t forget, I’m still ranked higher than you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, talent, right?” Meliodas shot back.

  They both laughed.

  For the first time since arriving, Meliodas felt truly free. The constant tension in his chest eased, the nerves finally dissolving as relief and quiet joy took their place.

  Meliodas and Tyka walked across the academy grounds, now full of life. Students were scattered everywhere, sitting along stone paths, lounging on benches, gathered near fountains, laughing, talking, enjoying the clear weather. The academy finally felt alive.

  They were heading toward Professor Adelion’s office, only a short walk from the first-year area, more commonly known as the Mage Plaza.

  Earlier, Hernest had explained the layout of the academy to them. There were three major plazas on the island, each hosting a different year of students. The Warrior Plaza housed the second-years, while the Healer Plaza belonged to the third-years. Once the third-years graduated, the incoming first-years would be placed at the Healer Plaza, continuing the cycle.

  Beyond the plazas lay the laboratories, staff accommodations, offices, training grounds, and other buildings, each spread carefully across the island.

  The academy island formed a perfect circle, with a vast lake at its heart, clearly marked on the academy map. Meliodas had asked what lay at the center, Hernest had simply told them that the Sky Island rested at the center and that they shouldn’t concern themselves with it just yet.

  After that, Hernest had given them directions to Professor Adelion’s office.

  To no one’s surprise, it turned out to be where the laboratories were.

  As they passed the second-years’ plaza, Meliodas noticed it was empty. He slowed, gaze lingering longer than necessary. Only then did he realize what he had been hoping for. A quiet disappointment flickered through him before he shook his head and moved on.

  They passed the third-years’ plaza next. There were students there, though far fewer than he had expected. None of them paid the two first-years much attention, and Meliodas quickly realized why, everyone seemed busy doing their own thing.

  They continued along the stone path until they reached structures that looked quite different from the plazas. The buildings grew more reinforced, marked with subtle symbols and strange formations etched into their walls.

  Meliodas instinctively knew they had reached the laboratories.

  A voice suddenly interrupted them as they stepped toward one of the buildings.

  “Student Meliodas. Student Tyka.”

  The elf’s voice was clear, but strained, slightly out of breath.

  Meliodas turned and saw the professor in green robes, the fabric splattered with some kind of greenish liquid, scorched and burned in several places.

  “Professor Adelion are you okay?” Meliodas asked, rushing toward him.

  He barely reached the elf before his legs gave out.

  The professor didn’t hesitate, catching Meliodas before he could hit the ground.

  “What were you thinking, Student Meliodas?” he said sharply. “You are still in a fragile state.”

  Pain surged through Meliodas’ body again, his vision blurring at the edges.

  Tyka rushed forward, his expression turning serious.

  “Professor, is he going to be okay?”

  “Yes, yes, don’t worry,” the elf replied quickly. “He’ll be fine. Student Tyka, will you help me carry him?”

  Tyka nodded at once, lifting Meliodas and putting him over his shoulder with practiced ease.

  “Follow me, Student Tyka.”

  He adjusted his grip on Meliodas for a moment, then started towards the inner complex of the laboratories.

  “We’re heading to Professor Aurelius’ office,” he added. “Student Meliodas' condition is beyond a simple recovery protocol. He’s the most qualified to deal with him.”

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  Tyka didn’t ask questions. He simply walked carefully and followed closely.

  Meliodas’ head throbbed, the world reduced to drifting blurs of color and motion. He vaguely registered entering a building, stone beneath his feet, air growing cooler, but he couldn’t focus long enough to make sense of it.

  Fragments of voices reached him, distant and distorted.

  “Professor Aurelius—”

  “You—”

  “The student needs… care.”

  “Put him here… Tyka.”

  He felt himself being lowered carefully, a hard surface beneath his back. Some sort of table, he realized dimly.

  Something was uncorked.

  A familiar sensation followed as liquid burned its way through his body. Pain flared, sharp, sudden, then spread outward, dulling his senses instead of sharpening them this time, unlike before, there was no relief waiting at the end of it.

  Only darkness, as Meliodas slipped into a deep, unyielding sleep.

  Meliodas found himself standing in a courtyard.

  A familiar one.

  It took him a moment to realize where he was, home. Not just home, but long ago. He was smaller than he remembered, his body lighter, weaker, he was a child again.

  He looked around.

  No one was there.

  Then he looked down at himself.

  Blood.

  His hands were smeared with it, warm and bright against his skin. His breath paused ,panic rising fast. Tears started forming as he began to cry, confusion and fear overwhelming him.

  “Are you alright, young master Meliodas?”

  The voice snapped him out of it as he turned toward its source.

  Gilbert rushed toward him, dropping to one knee at once. “Oh my, oh my… look at this. Come now, we must wash it before it leaves a scar. Your mother would scold me terribly if that were to happen."

  Meliodas didn’t answer.

  He took Gilbert’s hand instead, clinging to it as they hurried toward the manor.

  Then the air changed. A pressure settled over the courtyard, wrong, heavy, suffocating.

  Meliodas froze mid-step, his body trembling.

  He pointed toward the palm trees, toward the bushes lining the edge of the courtyard.

  “There,” he tried to say, his voice barely a whisper, Gilbert followed his gaze, then smiled gently.

  “My, my… there’s nothing there, young master.”

  Gilbert turned away, and Meliodas saw it.

  Two eyes, they were Silver tinged with dark green, watching from the shadows.

  The moment their gazes met, terror seized him. His body shook violently, breath locking in his chest as a scream tore free.

  Meliodas woke up.

  He pushed himself upright with tremendous speed, cold sweat forming across his skin. Before he could even register where he was, pain surged through his body again, this time bearable, but deep, soul-aching.

  “Dammit… that stupid dream again,” he murmured.

  “I wouldn’t recommend moving so suddenly,” a calm voice said nearby.

  Meliodas froze and slowly turned his head.

  He was in a laboratory.

  Vials were stacked neatly along one wall, some empty, others faintly glowing. Strange glass constructs, complex, unfamiliar, stood on metal frames, clearly designed for purposes he didn’t yet understand. The air smelled faintly of herbs and old parchment.

  He turned the other way.

  A man sat in a small chair, calmly sipping a faintly colored beverage. Behind him rose shelves, hundreds, no, thousands of books, old, worn, and meticulously organized, filling the wall from floor to ceiling.

  Meliodas’ gaze settled on the man.

  His build was thin, fragile even, his body visibly weakened. Ash-colored hair framed his face, faded, with glimmers of icy-blue catching the light. His eyes were pale, cold blue, sharp despite the exhaustion that lingered within them.

  They studied Meliodas quietly.

  The man set his cup aside and stood. He was tall, though his posture stole some of that height, shoulders curved as if burdened by years unseen.

  That’s odd, Meliodas thought. Everything about the man’s movements spoke of age, yet his face told another story entirely. He couldn’t have been over forty.

  “Forgive my late introduction,” he said calmly. “My name is Professor Aurelius. I specialize in monster etymology and alchemy, though I would call the latter more of a hobby.”

  He walked slowly toward Meliodas and extended a stern, steady hand.

  Meliodas shook it. “Meliodas Archypego, Professor. It’s nice to meet you.”

  He carefully pushed himself off the examination table, wincing slightly. “I’m sorry to trouble you, Professor, but I must leave. I have an important meeting with Professor Adelion.”

  “Sit down, child,” Aurelius said flatly. “Adelion is the one who brought you here, after all.”

  “What?” Meliodas asked, frowning. He couldn’t remember anything after Tyka and him had reached the laboratories. “Tyka, where is he?”

  “He has already left,” Aurelius replied. “He said something about sparring with Professor Kazzek.”

  “Dammit, Tyka, not again,” Meliodas muttered. “What will the professors think of us… and worse, our fellow students?”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” Aurelius added calmly. “Kazzek enjoys enthusiastic students. As for your fellow students, I have no answer for that.”

  Meliodas sat back down on the examination table, exhaling slowly.

  “Why did Professor Adelion bring me here, Professor Aurelius?”

  “Because I am the most qualified to treat you,” Aurelius replied without hesitation.

  Meliodas swallowed. “Then… What's happening to me? Sometimes I feel fine, great, even and then all of a sudden I feel terrible.”

  “Straum decay,” Aurelius said plainly. “That is what you’re experiencing. As for the sudden shifts, those are the effects of the medicine Adelion gave you.”

  He moved to a nearby shelf, selecting a vial as he continued.

  “It is nothing more than a booster. It helps people function in dire situations by numbing their pain and fatigue until proper recovery can begin. You were not actually healed, your pain receptors were simply suppressed for a time.”

  “That makes sense,” Meliodas said, resting his chin on his hand. “But… Why is my Straum decay so severe? I nearly tapped into it without even really using it.”

  “There are two answers,” Aurelius said. “The first is simple: you are still a beginner. More accurately, an infant, when it comes to Straum manipulation.”

  “And the second?” Meliodas asked.

  “The second is a hypothesis,” Aurelius replied, eyes narrowing slightly. “But a likely one. Trauma.”

  “What?” Meliodas said quickly. “I don’t have any trauma.”

  He didn’t quite meet Aurelius’ gaze as he spoke.

  “The way you woke up suggests otherwise,” Aurelius said calmly. “But that is not important right now.”

  He turned back toward Meliodas.

  “If you have no further questions, we will begin treatment. What do you say?”

  “Please,” Meliodas said immediately. “I can’t live like this.”

  Aurelius studied him for a long moment.

  “Before we begin, you must promise me something, Student Meliodas,” he said quietly.

  “Never push yourself that hard again. Not even when a life is on the line.”

  Meliodas hesitated to answer. “But—”

  “One’s own life,” Aurelius interrupted, his voice firm, “is still a life, and it is not one you are allowed to throw away.”

  Silence followed.

  “Sorry, Professor,” Meliodas said quietly. “I don’t think I can promise that.”

  For a split second, he expected anger and disappointment.

  Instead, Aurelius laughed.

  It wasn’t loud, just a dry, tired chuckle, as if the answer had been exactly what he expected.

  “I figured as much,” the professor said. “Very well.”

  He studied Meliodas for a moment, then added, “At least promise me this, don’t do it while you’re in the academy. Not without guidance or preparation.”

  Meliodas thought for a moment, then slowly raised his hand, a grin spreading across his face.

  “Promise.”

  Aurelius took it and shook it firmly.

  “Perfect. Then let’s begin right away,” he said, already turning toward a mark carved into the floor behind him. The stone was etched with symbols, clean, deliberate, ancient. “This will be painful, I might add.”

  He paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

  “Well? What are you waiting for?”

  Meliodas snapped out of his thoughts and followed his gaze, as he stepped closer to the markings, his pace slowed, then stopped entirely.

  His eyes widened.

  An array formation.

  Without even thinking, Meliodas dropped to one knee and leaned in, studying it closely. The structure was simple, elegant. Not something he could produce himself, but something he could understand.

  His mother had bought him countless books on arrays over the years. Theory upon theory. Diagrams and explanations, but neither of his parents knew the first thing about actually using them, so Meliodas had never been able to practice.

  “This formation… It's meant to filter one’s memory. Not erase it, but isolate it, amplifying specific memories while suppressing others.”

  He traced a symbol in the air without touching the floor.

  “It also gathers Straum from the environment, shaping it into a funnel. Controlled intake, stabilization.”

  Aurelius’ eyes flickered with genuine interest.

  “Impressive,” he said. “It’s rare to see such enthusiasm for arrays, especially paired with understanding.”

  He smiled faintly.

  “You should speak with Adelion sometime. He’s equally fascinated by them, and quite skilled. In fact,” Aurelius added, “he’s the one who taught me how to construct this particular array.”

  I will, Meliodas thought, but confusion formed across his face as he looked at the professor.

  “But… how will this help me?”

  Aurelius studied him for a moment.

  “Child, do you know what Straum decay's actual effects are?” he asked calmly. “I mean in severe cases, not ones as mild as yours.”

  Meliodas shook his head. “No… I don’t.”

  “I will keep this brief, since you will receive a full lecture on it later,” Aurelius said. “In simple terms… it erases the self.”

  Meliodas swallowed. “That’s… terrifying.”

  “It is,” Aurelius agreed. “That is why everyone was so alarmed when you experienced it. When the Straum in your nexus is depleted, your body begins drawing in ambient Straum. Normally, that has little effect. But when your defenses are down, when so to say you are empty, you absorb it unfiltered, and in extreme quantities.”

  He gestured toward the array.

  “In your case, your Straum has not yet fully recovered. Your body is… distabilized at the moment. By meditating within this array, you will slowly regenerate your own Straum while filtering out the excess ambient energy you absorbed.”

  “I… don’t fully understand,” Meliodas admitted, exhaling slowly. “But you’re right. Let’s do it.”

  Aurelius nodded, satisfied.

  “Good. Then sit in the center of the array and begin meditating. I will guide you through the recovery process.”

  “This will take time,” Aurelius added calmly. “And it will not be pleasant. Do not fight the sensation. Let it pass through you.”

  Meliodas pushed himself forward and shifted fully into the center of the array, as he passed over the markings, that familiar thick, slimy sensation brushed against his skin again.

  He sat down, legs crossed, and slowly closed his eyes.

  Steadying his breathing, he let his shoulders relax.