Millennium Witch

Book 3: Chapter 219: Disciplinary Committee

By late March, the game between Yvette Loxivia and Nixia was still ongoing—or rather, it was Nixia’s one-sided game, since Yvette had no idea anything was happening.How to put it: Yvette did plan to learn a bit more about Nixia, but only because of the girl’s demonkin identity.

What she needed to observe was whether Nixia was secretly up to anything bad—brewing some evil scheme and the like. For that, there was no need to cultivate closeness; physical proximity was enough.

As for deeper intelligence exchanges, that would require mutual trust first. She hadn’t yet decided how to build that—anyway, the Academy of Truth is a five-year program. She could start next year and just coast this one.

Never one to rush things!

On Lucia’s side, she noticed that ever since Yvette chose her elective, her daily life had stayed as steady and serene as ever, with nothing out of the ordinary. After half a month of fretting, Lucia finally relaxed.

She’d half expected that, after contact with that “interesting girl,” Yvette would start missing dinner, eating out with someone else—or simply not coming home at night.

But as it turned out—

That was all the wrong idea.

Yvette wasn’t the sort to get a new friend and forget her best one—though from Yvette’s perspective, Lucia was less “best friend” and more a blend of student, maid, and cook.

Just like Abella, who was off somewhere on the Blacktide Continent enjoying herself.

It was an evening with deepening, but not yet heavy, dusk. With winter gone, spring skies didn’t darken so fast. The clouds outside the window glowed like fire at sunset; now and then distant horns sounded—probably an airship passing overhead—framing a small, quiet living room in a cozy, leisurely mood.

After dinner, the dishes were washed and put away. A faint aroma of food hung in the air, soothing.

Hanging her apron on the rack and finishing the chores, Lucia stepped out of the kitchen and suddenly said, “Yvette, have you joined a club?”

Yvette was curled up on the sofa under a soft blanket, only her head showing as she read. She turned pages with Wind Magic. At the question, she shifted her gaze and said evenly, “No.”

“You haven’t?”

“Do I have to?”

“Clubs are mandatory, right? Isn’t the College of General Studies like that?”

“I haven’t paid attention.”

“Then how about this, Yvette—come sign up for the Disciplinary Committee with me,” Lucia cut to the chase. “If you join the Disciplinary Committee with me, you won’t need to join a club.”

The Academy of Truth doesn’t divide students into homerooms. Under the course-selection system, intakes are referred to by cohort, not class. Naturally there’s a social need that arises from this, and so clubs came into being. For healthy student development, the Academy requires everyone to join at least one club—an old hard rule from the Academy’s founding, one many later schools copied.

The Disciplinary Committee, though, is unusual: both a special police force outside campus and a student body within. If you join it, it’s much like joining the student council—no need to add a club on top.

“No,” Yvette said.

“Then what club are you planning to join?”

“No idea.”

“Then come with me.” Lucia sliced a plate of apples, sat at the sofa’s edge, and—fork in hand—fed her while wheedling, “Come on, together, together.”

Yvette nibbled the apple obediently, seeming a bit tempted, but once she’d finished she put on a firm look again. “No.”

“”

“But I can go with you to take a look,” she added.

Mainly, she was interested in the Committee’s internal records room.

After all, the Disciplinary Committee are not only campus police; they also moonlight as the Academy’s intelligence arm. Records on crimes and information on cults should all be there—especially that witch cult aiming to revive the Witch of the End.

She wouldn’t barge into the Committee’s headquarters—it was a core site. She wasn’t about to reveal her identity and draw attention. A branch office would be much easier to poke around. She could mark the spot, swing by later, and see if she could glean anything useful—like updates on the now-infamous witch cult.

“Alright then,” Lucia thought. She hadn’t managed to rope Yvette into joining, but this was better than nothing.

People do love compromises.

Recruitment for the Disciplinary Committee runs through an internal Academy channel. Selection is based on grades and instructor evaluations.

After that comes an internship: you shadow a senior captain and learn the ropes. Only those who perform well in this period can stay on at the branch.

Given that Lucia was the prodigy of the Battle Arts College—and arguably the whole Academy—getting approved would be easy.

Two days later, on a weekend morning, the brass-trimmed doors of an Academy-exclusive railcar slid open. Yvette and Lucia disembarked with the crowd and arrived in District Two, where the Battle Arts College is located.

Exiting the subway, they saw tall, terraced buildings lining both sides of the street, casting broad shadows over a roadway that wasn’t very wide.

Ground floors were usually crammed with storefronts; above the awnings, apartments hung laundry from clotheslines. Thick magitech conduits clung to the black-stone exteriors, with valves occasionally puffing white steam. The central street bustled—well-dressed gentlemen and ladies coming and going, the clatter of hooves unceasing.

Looking at those magitech conduits, Yvette naturally thought of the materials she’d read about the Academy’s infrastructure.

Because it touched on Academy secrets, the book had been vague. It only said that beneath the Academy lay a colossal facility that could efficiently and continuously generate magitech energy to power the City of Truth on the surface—as if it were a perpetual-motion machine—running for five hundred years without pause, not even needing additional mana-crystal ore. It was called the “Elemental Melting Furnace,” the single most important facility in the City of Truth.

Yvette later asked Instructor Margaret about this “Elemental Melting Furnace,” but although the woman was a high-ranking mage, she didn’t know either. She only shared two rumors. One: the Furnace was a super power plant built by the Legendary Mage, with magic drawn from hidden veins underground. Two: it was a relic of the Ultra-ancient Civilization, and the Legendary Mage decided to found the City of Truth here only after discovering it.

Yvette had no way to know the answer immediately, and planned to investigate when she had the chance.

A few minutes later, after following the sidewalk and crossing an intersection, Yvette saw a somber, dignified dark building.

It had two adjacent entrances. One was a police station, with a huge badge over the door and uniformed officers on guard out front. The other bore a prominent bronze plaque: Academy of Truth Disciplinary Committee, District Two Branch.

In addition, two girls in Academy uniforms were waiting at the curb. One pink-haired girl was looking around. The instant she spotted Lucia, her face lit up in a brilliant smile—but before she could lift a hand to wave, she caught sight of the utterly ordinary Yvette beside her. Her expression fell at once, clear displeasure written there.