Gunmage
Chapter 103: Weight of Secrets

Chapter 103: Chapter 103: Weight of Secrets

The only question left was—why?

Lugh could try to interfere. He could take the knowledge he’d stolen from the dead and act against whatever schemes the enemies had set in motion.

But for what reason? Why should he lift a finger?

This wasn’t his problem. Not really.

Besides, uncovering their exact intentions would demand more than guesswork. It would require concentration. Investigation. Motivation.

Lugh had none of the three. Sure, he had access to fragments of memories, floating like debris in the sea of his mind.

From that, he could stitch together a basic outline—they wanted Isolde dead that much was for sure. But today, that felt... secondary.

The attack had been sloppy and unfocused. As though killing her wasn’t the goal, merely a bonus.

The real objective had been the attack itself, rather than its result. Were they trying to send a message?

But the "why" behind it remained frustratingly out of reach.

Lugh could try to extrapolate. He had over thirty thousand lenses through which to see the world—thirty thousand minds he had absorbed, each whispering contradictory truths.

But that in itself was another problem.

A dreadful curse it was.

Those perspectives didn’t merge seamlessly. They clashed. Morality fought ambition, fear battled pride. Worldviews bled into one another, producing warped, surreal lines of thought.

Half of him approached situations like a soldier. Another half like a poet. Others still as criminals, mothers, madmen.

It left his thinking fractured. Disjointed. Inhuman.

As he sat in the dimly lit room, lit only by a sconce flickering in the far corner, his eyes drifted to the table.

A book lay there now, one that hadn’t been present before. Its pages were slightly curled, like they had been touched by fire.

He stood slowly, walking over to it. The cover read, Force Control: A Beginner’s Primer.

A strange choice of literature to leave lying around.

Before he could open the book fully, there came a knock at the door.

He opened it to find two servants, cloaked in the Von Heim household’s rich red and silver uniforms.

"The madame requests your presence"

One of them explained.

The room he was led to was warm, unexpectedly so.

A fire crackled in a hearth of polished obsidian and dark oak. Convoy-style furniture filled the space. Rounded armrests, floral upholstery, edges carved with vines and birds.

The kind of room meant for quiet conversation over expensive tea.

Isolde sat upright in a chair by the fireplace, her eyes fixed on him. Her posture was perfect, but her expression betrayed uncertainty.

Like someone who’d prepared for a speech only to forget how it began.

Lugh remained standing, eyes wandering across the room. Her gaze didn’t move.

She finally broke the silence.

"Don’t you have any questions?"

"About what?"

He replied.

"About today. About what you saw. About magic."

"Not really."

"W-what—?"

"Can I go now?"

"N-no! I mean... no."

She cleared her throat and sat up straighter, trying to make her voice sound more authoritative.

"Listen here, young man. You must not share what you saw today with anyone else. Is that clear?"

"Okay."

She waited, as if expecting more—some resistance, or at least curiosity.

When none came, she asked

"Don’t you want to know why?"

"I’m good."

There was a long silence. The fire popped once. Isolde’s knuckles whitened where they clenched the armrest.

She exhaled sharply, then began anyway.

"There’s an ancient law. Enforced by the Empyrean Court. A law that predates your grandparents’ grandparents."

Lugh raised an eyebrow.

"Magic"

She continued

"Is not to be learned, shared, or taught to humans. It is forbidden. In every sense of the word."

That made him pause. He didn’t speak, but she could tell he was listening now.

"But as you’ve seen"

She went on.

"I—and others like me—still use magic. That’s because we went against the Court’s decree. We studied it in secret, passing it down to our descendants"

She leaned in.

"If they find out what we are... what we’ve done... every person with even a drop of our blood will be executed."

A beat passed before Lugh asked

"Are you the only ones who can... do magic?"

"No"

She said, voice quieter now.

"Not by far."

She stood, walking to the window and drawing back the heavy velvet curtain. Outside, the rain had transformed into a light drizzle.

Then she began to list the names.

"The Church. House D’Aramitz. The Mornveil’s. The Cross Family. Dozens more. We are a collection of old bloodlines and secret institutions. Each one too stubborn to let magic die, and too cautious to wield it openly."

Lugh blinked.

"So... a secret club?"

Isolde gave a tired smile.

"More like an ecosystem. We call ourselves—we are the Remnants. And we live under constant threat."

She turned to face him again.

"At the top of this... web... sits the Enforcers. An underground council run by the royal family. They monitor rogue casters, magic-related incidents, leyline disturbances, anything that could attract the Court’s attention.

If one of us gets sloppy, if someone threatens to blow open the entire arrangement... the enforcers intervenes. Silently and permanently."

Lugh scratched his chin.

"So they erase the evidence."

"They erase everything"

She said.

"Sometimes entire families. Towns. Bloodlines."

He gave a small nod.

"Efficient."

"You say that like it’s a good thing."

"I didn’t say it was bad, either."

Her lips tightly pressed together.

Lugh tilted his head.

"So, humans can use magic. You just got good at hiding it."

She flinched. Not because he was wrong, but because he was exactly right.

"Yes"

She admitted.

"But the Court looks down on us. Not just because we’re human. But because we’re... crude. Our magic is inefficient, chaotic, often misused.

The Elves, the Sylvans, the Lunar Folk—they see us as toddlers playing with fire. Unfit to wield the very thing they’ve mastered."

Her voice was tinged with resentment.

Lugh crossed his arms.

"Are they wrong?"

She didn’t answer immediately.

"We lack the heritage. Not the talent. The bloodlines of non-human casters are saturated with natural affinity. Their entire biology is built to interact with mana. We have to force it. Bend it to our will."

He thought back to the book in his room and muttered under his breath.

"Force Control."

Isolde looked over, a flicker of surprise in her eye.

"You saw the book?"

"I saw the table it wasn’t on, earlier."

She nearly facepalmed

"It’s a beginner’s guide"

She said.

"One we don’t share lightly."

"Is this where you offer to teach me?"

"No. This is where I beg you not to speak of it again."

Lugh glanced toward the fire.

"Because if I do... the Association comes?"

"Yes."

"And if they don’t, the Court will."

"Yes."

"And if neither come, your own people might just kill me to keep me quiet."

She didn’t answer.