Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 2: The Arcane Academy
Zhao Lin accepted his new identity with surprising ease. After all, in his previous life he had been nothing more than an orphan, and even the orphanage director who had cared for him the most had passed away two years ago.
What’s more, all of Leo Merlin’s memories had poured into his mind, etched deep into his soul. At this moment, he could be called Zhao Lin, but he could just as well be called Leo Merlin.
Leo Merlin had parents who doted on him beyond measure. As the only son of Count Leo, the food he ate, the clothes he wore, the things he used—all of it was the finest.
And though his magical talent was nothing remarkable, Count Leo had used influence and wealth to send him into the sanctum of Aize Continent—the Arcane Academy, which stood apart from both Empire and Church.
Aize Continent, shrouded in mist and legend, was a land of vast mystery. Ancient forests stood dense and unfathomable, mountains pierced the clouds, deserts stretched boundless, and grasslands rolled on without end.
Not even the Six Great Empires, nor the blessed Churches, nor the mighty Arcane Academy had fully unraveled the wonders of this world.
Here, magic was not some distant miracle but a force that even ordinary people could touch.
The races of Aize pursued magic with near-fanatical fervor. This world was in its “adolescence.” A century ago, the last great war had ended, and peace had since allowed magic to flourish. Though the path ahead was still veiled in mist, that feverish drive to probe the unknown was an addiction to every mage.
The Arcane Academy, standing above both Empire and Church, was the holy ground where countless mages came to study. And Leo Merlin was a student of its Alchemy Division, a young man of utterly unremarkable talent.
Yet, despite his mediocrity in alchemy, Leo Merlin was still well-known—because of his strikingly handsome face and his aloof, frosty temperament, which made him the dream of countless maidens within the academy.
Zhao Lin accepted this new self. From this day on, he was Merlin, and he would live as Merlin. Since he now inhabited this body, the first matter was to uncover the truth: who had killed the original owner?
For according to memory, Merlin had been a strong and healthy youth, with no illness or affliction. He could not have suddenly died in his dormitory. When Zhao Lin first crossed over, that drowning suffocation and searing headache had left him gasping on the bed, forcing him to think.
Could it have been a soul-attack spell?
Merlin frowned at the pale face reflected in the mirror. Even on Aize Continent, spells that targeted the soul were rare. And to commit murder within the Arcane Academy—the power backing such a deed had to be formidable indeed.
In life, Leo Merlin had been a low-key presence in the Alchemy Division. Though a bit cold, he never stirred up trouble. Searching his inherited memories, Merlin could think of no enemy, no grudge. He had no idea how he had died.
Rising to his feet, he circled the oak chair at his desk, then sat down, legs crossed, fingers interlaced in thought.
If no one had any reason to target him, then what was the cause of his death?
A random madman with a taste for senseless killing? Impossible—absolutely not. Perhaps it hadn’t been aimed at him personally, but rather at his entire family?
For indeed, the Leo family had no shortage of enemies. In the age of war, the Leos had carved new lands for the Dawn Empire, cutting down countless heirs and prodigies of other imperial families. Even a century later, such hatred would not easily fade.
Merlin’s gaze swept over the dormitory. Scattered across the floor were papers covered with magical circuits—his completed alchemy assignments.
It was a single-occupancy dormitory, the kind that demanded exorbitant fees. Before him stood a heavy oak door carved with ancient runes, glimmering faintly in the dim light. Magic flowed within it; only a room card infused with matching mana could open the way inside.
Above, the high ceiling was painted with a star map, as if one could look straight through the roof into the night sky. Before the window stood a large round oak table, heaped with spellbooks, parchment scrolls, and curious bits of metal.
On either side were three tall-backed chairs, each carved with a different magical beast—dragon, phoenix, unicorn.
A fireplace lined one wall. Beside it sat a comfortable four-poster bed, layered with thick down quilts and soft fur blankets. At the headboard hung a mana lamp, ready to shine with light at the infusion of magic.
The walls bore ancient oil paintings of mages enacting mysterious rituals, while the floor was covered with a plush, vividly patterned carpet.
This was a dwelling countless times finer than the hovel he’d known before. And yet, despite combing the room, he found no clue as to his death. It left him no choice but to remain wary—never knowing who might be coming for him was a terrifying thing indeed.
And once his enemy discovered he still lived, they would surely strike again, with methods even deadlier.
What a disastrous start! Still, since he had come, he would endure. He was no longer an orphan—he could speak to his parents if needed. His father was a count of the Dawn Empire, a powerful magic swordsman, while his mother, though born of peasantry, was herself a high-ranking mage.
The thought of finally experiencing a father’s and mother’s love stirred his heart with both excitement and unease. With all of Merlin’s memories now his, he could feel that all-consuming love—but he craved more.
Though eager to meet his parents, Merlin pressed down his impatience. They were likely back on the Leo family’s fief, within the Dawn Empire.
Knock, knock, knock—
The sound at the door broke his thoughts. Merlin rose, peering through the peephole to see a brown-haired youth standing outside.
Creak—
The door swung open. Merlin recognized him at once—someone he could absolutely trust. Louis Fitt, hailing from the frozen north, from the Icefield Empire famed for its brave warriors and impregnable fortresses. A noble prince—the sixteenth, hence called Louis XVI. One of the few friends the original Merlin had had.
“Merlin, that blasted owl messed up our deliveries again! I swear it’s on purpose—knowing we’re close, it just wants to gobble down the blueberry fruits my mother sent me!”
Louis Fitt held out an envelope sealed with the Leo family crest, passing it into Merlin’s hands.
A letter from home?