Chapter 1378: Shadows Behind the Gate
The students had been relocated from the portal chamber to one of the main training halls used by the Underfang Guild. At the moment, the room was empty. The transfer students had already cleared it out, which made it the safest option, clean of blood, clean of bodies. It was one of the few places they could sit without being haunted by the horrors they had just witnessed.
“Teacher,” one of the students asked, timidly raising their hand. “Why are we here? Shouldn’t we be waiting outside for the bus to take us back to the academy?”
“There’s just been a slight delay,” Redrick replied with a calm smile. “Don’t worry. The transfer students and the other instructors just need to settle something first.”
In truth, Raze and the others were waiting for someone, Alen. He had promised to arrive at the Underfang Guild as quickly as possible after Raze contacted him, though Raze had given him only the barest context about the situation.
Still, Alen had agreed to come.
Wanting others to fully understand the weight of what was going on, Raze had brought both Luka and Panla along. If he could show them the depth of the conspiracy, especially with Alen present, then perhaps they would begin to believe that everything he had done, every move, was for a just cause.
While they waited outside the guild building, a strange humming sound echoed in the distance. Moments later, a large military aircraft descended from the sky. Unlike the student transport vehicles, this one was rugged in design. Sharper edges, reinforced plating, and a fortified hull, it was clear this was built for combat, not comfort.
When the hatch opened, Alen stepped out.
He wasn’t dressed casually like before. This time, he wore his full military uniform, clean white with sharp gold decals, each symbol placed with meaning. A uniquely styled beret sat tilted slightly on his head. The soldiers at his side were similarly dressed, all bearing the same crest and posture of discipline.
“Are these people ones you trust?” Raze asked without hesitation.
Alen raised a brow at the bluntness, shaking his head. “That’s the first thing you ask me? After you were the one who called me for help?” But his expression softened as he answered, “Yes. They’ve been vetted thoroughly. We’ve been through fire and blood together. Their loyalty lies with me, before anyone else.”
Raze gave a small nod. He understood Alen’s frustration, but he had to be sure. After all, what they were about to discuss involved Alterian’s most dangerous secrets.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Professors,” Alen said respectfully as he greeted Luka and Panla.
The group began walking toward the guild’s interior. There was small talk between them, Alen had a good relationship with Wilton, the one who ran the academy, and he had already met Luka before. Everyone was familiar with one another’s position and reputation. Respect ran both ways.
Before entering the core of the guild, Luka and Panla decided to bring Alen up to speed on what had happened inside the portal. They left no detail out, well, almost none.
They explained how the Underfang Guild had led them into a deadly portal and disguised themselves as members of the Dark Guild. They spoke of how Raze and his team had saved the students and teachers, fighting off monsters and traitors alike. The only thing they omitted was the subject of dark magic.
They still weren’t sure if even Alen was aware of Raze’s true capabilities.
Alen listened intently, his brows gradually furrowing. He hadn’t expected to be called in so soon after helping Raze and the others gain entry to the academy, and everything he heard now was almost beyond belief.
Eventually, they reached the main office of the guild.
Inside, Dame was already waiting, alongside Bronto and two other high-ranking Underfang members. All four were restrained, each bound by thick, glowing ropes.
These weren’t ordinary bindings. They were enchanted ropes, items usually reserved for restraining magical beasts or high-level prisoners. That they were found in the guild’s own storeroom was a red flag in itself.
“Military personnel?” Bronto scoffed, glaring at Alen. “And working with someone from the Dark Guild, no less. What has this world come to?”
The comment wasn’t random. It was calculated, spoken loud and clear, a provocation designed to turn Alen against Raze if he didn’t already know where the lines were drawn.
“Nice try,” Alen responded coolly. “I don’t work with the Dark Guild. I’ve never been part of them. But I am someone who believes in uncovering the truth, no matter who’s involved.”
He stepped forward, meeting Bronto’s gaze. “And judging from everything I’ve seen and heard so far… you and your people are long overdue for punishment.”
He turned toward Raze.
“Leave them with us for an hour,” Alen instructed. “We have our methods. We’ll get everything, why they did it, who they’re working for, and what their endgame is. Once we’re done, I’ll personally escort you back to the academy. And don’t worry, if secrecy is needed, we’ll make sure none of this reaches the outside.”
Raze gave a nod, trusting him for now.
Despite the claim of one hour, it wasn’t long before Alen returned. He ushered the group into a side room, a research chamber filled with ancient tomes and tools used for magical analysis.
“It turns out everything you said was true,” Alen confirmed.
“The group was acting under the orders of the Cerberus Guild. They claimed not to know who at the top gave the directive. However, they were asked to hand specific items over to the academy after returning from the portal.”
He let the weight of that settle in before continuing.
“And they’re not the only ones. Apparently, several other teams have been tasked with similar orders. As for disguising themselves as the Dark Guild, that, too, was part of the plan. According to them, they were just following instructions.”
Bronto, despite his silence, had shared his own suspicion.
“He believes the disguise was intentional,” Alen explained. “An easy scapegoat. It paints the Dark Guild as villains once again, fuel for the fire of public fear. But I know what you’re thinking, Raze… It’s not just about blame. It’s a narrative. A way to slowly shape public opinion, to turn the world further against them.”
Alen walked over to the desk, placing a recording crystal down.
“You’ve done well, Raze,” he said. “This is the first step. I’ve documented every word from the interrogations. But… confessions aren’t enough to move the public. They’re weak in the face of doubt and propaganda.”
“The students, and these teachers, they’ll believe you. They were there. They saw it all.”
“But if you want to expose the truth to the world, you’ll need more. You’ll need undeniable proof. And remember, Cerberus is tied to Gizin. But you’re not just going after them. Your real path leads to the academy… and to Ibarin.”
He looked Raze in the eye.
“You’ll need something solid on him, too.”
****
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Chapter 1379: A Path of Shadows and Secrets
Alen had been far more helpful than Raze had ever imagined. In fact, his involvement had altered Raze’s plans entirely, plans he had built from the moment he first stepped into Pagna.
Originally, it had been simple.
Restore his strength in this new body. Reclaim what he had lost. And then return, openly, to tear down the Grand Magus, one by one. He knew the moment he took down the first, the others would catch wind of his presence, and things would only get more dangerous from there.
That had always been the curse of his old body.
It wasn’t that he had been weaker than the other Grand Magus, not Enaxx, certainly not Ibarin. He was unsure about the others, having never clashed with them directly. But strength had never been the issue. It was isolation. Even with all his power, he could never move against them alone.
And, truthfully, he hadn’t cared what the world thought of him. If the people of Alterian wanted to label him a villain for striking down the Grand Magus, so be it. He would’ve accepted it, because he would have accomplished his vision. Twice, even. Once in his past life, and again in this one.
But… things had changed.
His time in Pagna, his time among the students, the people, it had shifted something in him. He didn’t want to see them suffer. He didn’t want them walking the same dark path he had. And it was through them that he realized: the Grand Magus hadn’t just wronged him. They were committing treacherous acts across Pagna, spreading chaos and corruption, manipulating events from behind the scenes.
Now, with Alen on his side, Raze had something he never had before, resources. An actual network to conduct investigations. Quiet methods. A chance to do this the right way.
“Raze!” Alen called, snapping him out of thought.
The buses had arrived. The students were being prepared for departure, and the operation was nearly complete. Alen had given them all strict instructions, no one was to speak of what happened inside the Underfang Guild. Not to other students, not to teachers, not even to Principal Wilton.
Oddly enough, the students took the command well. Rather than feel silenced, they felt… involved. Like they were now part of something bigger, an investigation that could change everything. Whatever fear or uncertainty lingered, it was drowned out by the pride of being trusted with something important.
As Raze stepped toward the loading area, Alen approached him again.
“I’ve been doing some digging,” Alen said in a hushed tone. “And there’s something I think might help with what we discussed.”
He leaned closer.
“There’s a rumor about an item the Central Academy keeps locked away. It’s said to allow someone to look directly into another person’s mind, to view their memories, replay conversations, even observe moments exactly as they happened.”
Raze raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know how it works,” Alen admitted. “Or even if the memories can be altered to frame someone… but I figured you’d want to look into it.”
Raze gave a silent nod. Even if the item turned out to be a fake or corrupted version, its existence alone was worth investigating. If he could find it and analyze the enchantments, he might be able to replicate or improve it, build a version that couldn’t be tampered with.
After all, the founder of the old Dark Faction had once used a similar system. During the Golden Globe Selection, he’d shown everyone’s memories for the entire world to see. So the idea of such an item didn’t feel so far-fetched.
If that kind of tool had existed back then, Raze thought bitterly, maybe I would’ve been cleared of the crime that started this entire mess.
Eventually, the students were escorted back to the academy safely. Alen personally saw to it. Upon arrival, the students were told to rest in their dorms while the teachers were summoned for an official evaluation of events.
Alen himself met with Principal Wilton, playing it casual, just an old friend checking in during the assessment period. Nothing more. Nothing suspicious.
After the evaluations were finished, a couple of days passed. During that time, Raze and the others observed closely, watching for signs that anyone had broken the silence. If any of the students or teachers had leaked details of what happened… it would only be a matter of time before word spread.
But no one spoke.
Whether it was out of fear, a promise, or sheer pride, none of them said a word.
Still, things clearly weren’t back to normal.
The students who hadn’t participated in the assessment began avoiding the transfer students altogether. Even among the Ranked Students, the atmosphere was different, tense, strained. The sense of camaraderie from before had fractured. And it didn’t look like it would go back to how it once was.
Eventually, though, an announcement came: the selection for the Cultural Exchange was complete.
As promised, the transfer students were all chosen. So were the five Ranked Students. The event would take place in just one week.
Back in the dorm room, the mood was surprisingly light.
“We did it! We actually did it!” Beatrix shouted, throwing her arms in the air. “I was so worried that when we used our powers, something would slip out… but everyone’s kept quiet!”
“Right?” Liam added, shaking his head. “I thought for sure someone would’ve cracked. Maybe it’s Alen… or maybe they’re just too scared. Either of us… or the Grand Magus.”
The group chuckled nervously, but their eyes eventually drifted toward Raze.
He hadn’t said a word.
His expression was distant, gaze fixed on the floor. His mind was elsewhere, and they could tell.
He was thinking about Alen’s words.
Is there proof that Ibarin has done something truly wrong? Raze wondered. He wronged me, used me as a scapegoat just to claim the position of principal. He’s been working with the Grand Magus… and that alone makes him guilty.
But guilt isn’t enough. Not in the eyes of the world. Not if they want to bring them all down.
If I go after Ibarin first, without proof, then the others will remain untouched. People will think it’s just revenge. Personal. But if I can find something here, at the academy… something irrefutable…
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.
Instantly, Raze sensed something. A presence, familiar. One that felt oddly similar to his own.
When he opened the door, he found Londo standing outside.
“Can we talk?” Londo asked, his tone low and serious.
****
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Chapter 1380: Shadows in the Halls
Just like the last time they had spoken, Raze and Londo found themselves walking through the academy’s halls once again.
It was late.
The moonlight barely trickled in through the windows, casting long shadows along the stone corridors. The students were long in their dorms, fast asleep or pretending to be. The academy was silent… mostly.
There was, however, one key difference tonight.
As the two strolled through the dim halls, they passed several members of staff on quiet patrol. Each time, the staff would offer a polite nod as they passed, but never asked any questions. They weren’t concerned with why the two were out this late. Their presence was simply a check, a precaution.
It was clear that this extra security was the result of the recent events. Raze guessed the decision had come from Luka, Panla, or perhaps Redrick.
And honestly, he didn’t think it was a bad idea.
If the Underfang Guild had been working with the Dark Guild, and if the Dark Guild truly was as dangerous as their reputation suggested, then the risk wasn’t over. Not even close. They wouldn’t want witnesses left behind. If anything, they’d be the type to come back and clean up their mistakes.
And in Raze’s case, that made him a clear target.
As they continued to walk, Raze noticed something else. Londo’s entire demeanor had changed.
The first time they had walked these halls, Londo had practically dripped arrogance. They were supposedly from the same faction, yet Londo had spoken like a superior. His words had been laced with warning, as if Raze was some unpredictable variable he needed to keep in check.
But now?
Now, Londo walked silently.
Not a single smug word. Not even a glance to assert himself. And though he was the one who had come knocking at Raze’s door tonight, he had remained completely quiet since they began walking.
Still, Raze didn’t press him. He didn’t want to rush whatever this was. And honestly, he found a strange comfort in the silence as they wandered the quiet halls of the academy. It gave him time to think.
He needed that.
The Magical Exchange was coming soon, a multi-day event that brought together not just one, but several academies. An ideal stage to make a move. There would be moments, chances, he just needed to find the right one.
A perfect opportunity to take down Ibarin.
But things had changed. His objective had shifted. Now, it wasn’t just about vengeance, it was about truth. About proof. About exposing Ibarin for the things he had done behind the curtain. If he could find that mysterious memory item at the Central Academy, it could change everything.
The drugs I was framed for… that might be the thread I need, Raze thought. If they’re still circulating, I can use that. Tie it to Gizin, then to Ibarin. Everything could unravel from there.
The silence between them lingered, until, finally, Londo broke it.
“I want to say something,” he said quietly.
They had already completed three laps of the academy’s inner halls by then.
Raze turned his head slightly but didn’t interrupt.
“First… I want to apologize for how I acted when we first met,” Londo continued. “I’ve dealt with members of the Dark Guild before. And sometimes, the only way to gain their respect is to act like you’re already above them. To posture.”
“I thought you were the same.”
He paused, then bowed his head, deeply. Once. Twice. Then a third time.
“I’m sorry.”
Raze didn’t say a word, letting the apology hang in the air.
Londo lifted his head again, and his voice trembled just slightly, enough to betray something real behind it.
“I also apologize because… I thought we were equals. That we stood on the same level.”
He turned to Raze, locking eyes with him.
“But I was wrong, wasn’t I? You’re the Dark Magus… aren’t you?”
“The same one that appeared on the broadcast.”
His voice wasn’t accusing. It wasn’t fearful. It was filled with awe.
For the first time, the dull, almost lifeless look that had clouded Londo’s eyes began to fade.
They sparked.
Glinted.
Raze could feel the intensity growing beside him, the subtle pull of admiration, of belief. Of recognition.
I suppose it was bound to happen eventually, Raze thought. Sooner or later, everyone in the Dark Guild is going to find out who I am. Maybe it’s better to have at least one follower, someone who I can control if needed. Someone who knows magic… and the world… better than most.
“You’re right,” Raze finally answered, turning his gaze toward Londo. “I am the Dark Magus. I didn’t tell you before because… it’s better if no one, even those inside the Dark Guild, knows that I’m here.”
“I’m doing something important,” he added. “And I don’t want the Dark Guild involved.”
Londo immediately shook his head, firm and fast.
“You’re the Dark Magus,” he said. “You can do as you please. You don’t need to give reasons. I know you have a goal, something larger than any of us understand. And now that I’ve confirmed it for myself… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say to you.”
They stopped walking.
For a moment, the corridor was silent, just the distant hum of magic-infused lanterns lighting the halls.
They turned toward each other, eyes locking.
From the outside, it almost looked like something out of a romance novel. Two figures under the academy’s glow, standing a breath apart, words heavy in the air.
“I want to thank you,” Londo said, his voice steady. “I mentioned it last time, why I joined the Dark Guild. So I’m sure you already know why this matters.”
“I never thought I’d meet you. And if I did… I figured it would only be from afar, maybe watching you from the shadows. But now, to have you right beside me, to be walking these halls with you, I had to take the chance to say it.”
Raze stared at him, and in that moment, he realized just how young Londo really was.
Unlike Raze, who only pretended to be a student, Londo actually was one.
He was still just a kid.
After everything Londo had been through, it was no wonder he had ended up joining a group like the Dark Guild, an organization built by people who had been hurt, wronged, or cast out by the world.
And now, looking back, Raze could see it more clearly. All the things Londo had said when they first met, the arrogance, the superiority, it wasn’t from ego. It was defense. A way to protect himself. A way to feel in control in a world that never let him be.
Maybe any high-ranking member in the Guild, with Londo’s level of skill, would’ve acted the same.
“You don’t have to tell me your plans,” Londo said after a moment, breaking the silence. “Or why you’re going to the Central Academy.”
He hesitated, then asked carefully, “But… how are you like this? In such a young body?”
“You said you’re the Dark Magus. Are you a new one? Or… are you the same Dark Magus from the past?”
Raze scratched the back of his head. He’d told this story to very few, only those closest to him. No one in Alterian knew the whole truth.
Until now.
“The situation’s… complicated,” Raze replied.
But in this moment, he felt at ease.
If the truth about Londo were discovered, he’d be hunted across all of Alterian. Raze understood that fear, and he knew Londo wouldn’t share what he was about to hear.
So, he told him.
He explained how he had discovered an ancient artifact, one that gave him a second chance at life. How he woke up in a different body, in a different world, and how that world didn’t rely on magic. Instead, it relied on strength, tools, and willpower.
He told him how, through countless battles and challenges, he’d worked to reclaim the strength he once had. How he had grown, perhaps not to the same level of magic as before, but in other ways. He had learned how to wield a sword, to rely on skill and instinct rather than raw magical force.
And that journey had shaped him.
Londo listened intently, eyes wide with awe, drinking in every word.
He was captivated. The legend of the Dark Magus was already something people whispered about with reverence, but to hear the true story? To learn about his trials and transformation?
It only made Londo’s admiration stronger.
People had no idea what the Dark Magus had gone through. If they did, if they heard it from his own lips, there would be far more sympathizers across Alterian. Whether they believed it or not was another matter, but the story itself… was powerful.
“Wait,” Londo said suddenly, “That other world, where they fought with their fists and weapons… does that mean the other transfer students with you, they’re from there too?”
Raze nodded.
“Some of them, yeah. Things may look a little different because we found a number of artifacts and tools to help us emulate magic as best we could. And then, well… there’s people like Safa.”
He let out a small chuckle.
“She’s just naturally gifted.”
Londo’s mind was spinning with questions. How did the Dark Guild start? What was the true reason behind his hatred for the Grand Magus? What kind of world had Raze truly come from?
But he stopped himself.
If Raze had still been just another student to him, he never would’ve dared ask so much. But even now, knowing who he truly was, Londo didn’t want to overstep.
“I won’t take up more of your time,” Londo said, bowing once more. “But I’ll say this, and I mean it, I’ll do my best to help you at the Cultural Exchange. No matter what you ask of me.”
****
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Chapter 1381: Before the Exchange
As the days passed in the academy, things slowly began to settle into a familiar rhythm. It almost felt as if everything had gone back to normal.
But something had changed, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed.
The students who had gone on the expedition with the Underfang Guild had returned noticeably different. Stronger. Sharper. Their techniques had improved, their senses were heightened, and their overall commitment to their studies had increased tenfold. Even those who hadn’t been chosen for the Cultural Exchange had picked up on the shift and responded in kind.
Principal Wilton was incredibly pleased by this transformation. In his mind, the sudden boost in motivation was thanks to the presence of the transfer students, perhaps their success had sparked something, lit a competitive fire under the others.
What Wilton didn’t know was the truth behind that change: the near-death experiences, the real battles, and the sobering understanding that their lives could be lost at any moment in this field. That kind of firsthand reality had a way of leaving a permanent mark.
Now, the day before the Cultural Exchange had finally arrived.
The selected students were called into one of the academy’s large classrooms. When Raze and the others stepped inside, they quickly noticed the top five ranking students already seated in a neat row. Without needing to speak, Raze and his group sat directly in front of them. It created a united front, all eyes facing forward toward the person standing at the center: Principal Wilton himself.
“I’m sure you’re all aware of why we’ve gathered here today,” Wilton began. His voice was soft, yet it carried through the room effortlessly, infused with magical energy to ensure every word reached every student clearly.
He gestured with his hand, and the air above him began to shimmer. A glowing magical projection burst into life, displaying radiant holograms and diagrams that floated in midair for all to see.
“As you’ve likely guessed, only those selected for the Cultural Exchange are in this room,” Wilton continued. “Today, I’ll be walking you through exactly what to expect from the event.”
The glowing projection shifted again, displaying a large, elegant banner that read Cultural Exchange – Four-Day Program.
“This event spans four days in total,” Wilton explained. “During that time, you’ll have the opportunity to explore the Central Academy’s facilities, attend their specialized lessons, and engage in networking with students and instructors from all across Alterian.”
He waved his hand again, and a new set of images appeared, depicting bustling fairs, magical workshops, and students interacting with representatives from various mage guilds.
“This event is not limited to just academies. It’s a platform for public engagement as well. You’ll meet guild members, researchers, and other figures of importance. It’s more than just a student exchange, it’s a gathering of magical minds.”
He paused for a moment before adding, “However, for you specifically… the key part lies in the five major events that take place during those four days.”
The projection shifted once again, now revealing a circular chart with six crests, each one belonging to a different academy. The emblems included Wilton Academy and the Central Mage Academy, as well as four others recognized among the elite institutions in Alterian.
“These six academies were hand-selected to participate,” Wilton said. “While other academies may send their professors or administrators as guests, only the chosen schools will be participating in the core events. In many ways, it is a showcase of magical progress, a demonstration of the power and potential of future generations.”
The events, however, were not open to the general public. Only select officials, leaders, and magical influencers would be in attendance.
As Raze listened, his mind turned. He saw an opportunity. This wasn’t just a stage for show, it was a battlefield of influence. A place where rising stars could be placed in front of powerful eyes. And perhaps, just perhaps, it was the perfect place to make a statement. A place to challenge someone like Ibrain… in front of those who mattered.
“There are five major events in total,” Wilton continued. “Spread across the four days, they will test different aspects of your abilities.”
He gestured toward the projection again, which now displayed each event with glowing titles and brief summaries.
“The first is the Portal Expedition Event,” he began. “Each academy will send a group of ten students into a portal of identical rank and level. The goal is simple: bring back as many power stones as possible, or complete the expedition first.”
“The second is the Dueling Event. One student from each academy will be selected to represent their school in a head-to-head magical duel. This is a high-prestige event and one of the most anticipated.”
“Third is the Specialty Magic Exhibition. This event highlights the most unique magical talents your academy has to offer. You’ll be presenting your signature skills, something that showcases the distinct magic your school is known for.”
“The fourth event is the Group Battle, where a team of students will engage in a large-scale skirmish against other academies. Think of it as a simulated warzone, meant to test teamwork and combat awareness.”
“And finally,” Wilton said, his eyes scanning the students with a quiet seriousness, “there is the Teacher Battle Event, where a professor from each academy will engage in a duel. Yes, even we will be expected to represent our schools.”
Raze listened closely. Most of the events involved combat in some form, which was ideal. That meant more chances. More opportunities to confront Ibrain, even outside the spotlight if needed.
Still, before anything else, Raze had three goals in mind.
First: find any books or scrolls on time magic. He needed to master this new element, fast.
Second: locate the mysterious item Amir had spoken of.
And third: uncover the truth behind Ibrain’s darker dealings. If there were skeletons in that mage’s closet, Raze would find them, and use them.
“Principal,” Chiba spoke up, raising her hand. “What are the usual results of these events?”
Wilton sighed lightly. “Historically, it’s safe to say the Central Academy dominates nearly every one of them. That includes the professor battles as well.”
A few students exchanged glances, surprise evident on their faces. They had always known the Central Academy was strong, undisputed, even, but this event had been framed as an exchange. A place to learn from each other. Not a one-sided display of dominance.
So what was the real purpose? To foster connection between mages across the continent, or simply to reaffirm the Central Academy’s superiority to the world?
“Well,” Piba spoke with a confident smirk, “things have changed, haven’t they? I’d say they’re in for a surprise if they expect to sweep everything again this year.”
Wilton chuckled softly but didn’t disagree.
“As for who will be participating in each assessment,” he added, “that will be decided by your instructors on the day of the event. Professors Redrick, Panla, and Luka will be accompanying you throughout. As for me, I’ll be present, but I’ll be handling administrative matters and won’t be able to guide you personally.”
His eyes scanned the room one last time, full of pride and hope.
“All I can do now is wish you the best of luck. I look forward to seeing the results each of you bring back.”
With that, the briefing ended, and the rest of the day passed by in a blur of preparation, speculation, and building anticipation.
At last, the day of the first Magical Exchange Event had arrived.
****
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Chapter 1382: A Promise of Greatness
The day before the grand Magical Exchange, every academy across Alterian was in a flurry of preparation. It was chaos, organized chaos, as final decisions were made, lineups adjusted, and strategies reshaped. Even the smallest details, like the design of the uniforms the students would wear, were being scrutinized and perfected.
This was their chance to leave a lasting impression, not just on the other schools, but on the powerful figures of the magical world. All eyes would be on them. And more importantly, on the Central Mage Academy.
Rumors were swirling this year, whispers that if a particular academy stood out, the Central Academy might offer to fund them and make them an official branch campus. A satellite of the most powerful magical institution in existence.
It was a dream opportunity for many. But this dream had also stirred the competitive flames among the other five academies. The atmosphere wasn’t one of schools coming together to shine, it had become a ruthless contest, not just to prove themselves, but to impress the Central Academy.
Why? Because that academy was led by none other than a Grand Magus.
Inside the heart of the Central Academy, Principal Ibrain stood in his vast, elegant office. The room was towering, the ceilings impossibly high, with massive windows that overlooked the sprawling grounds and grand spires of the academy’s campus. Behind his desk, books stretched from the polished floor all the way to the ceiling, forming a wall that looked more like a grand library than an office.
Ten students stood before him, lined up in crisp formation. Each of them wore the official academy uniform, a bright, shining white blazer trimmed with blue, tailored to perfection. Boys and girls alike stood tall and silent, eyes forward, posture flawless.
Ibrain regarded them with a calculating gaze.
“Tomorrow,” he began, his voice low and precise, “is the most important day of your lives, and the most important day for this academy.”
There was no warmth in his tone. No encouragement. Only truth.
“That is why I’m speaking to you directly,” he continued, “rather than through your instructors.”
His eyes narrowed.
“The way you perform during this event will determine the course of your future. Look to your left. Now to your right.”
The students did as they were told, each turning their heads to glance at the peers standing beside them.
“Everyone in this room has worked hard. So has everyone in this academy. But the ones beside you, these students, have climbed to the top. You are the elite. The best of the best.”
He paused, letting that hang in the air like a weight.
“But don’t make the mistake of thinking they are your friends. They are not your allies. No, they are your true competition.”
The room fell utterly silent.
“In the real world, these are the people who will challenge you for the same guild positions, the same contracts, the same influence. They are the ones who will establish great guilds, change nations, and shift the balance of magical power. And they will do it at your expense, unless you act first.”
The students hadn’t expected this. Some had imagined this would be a motivational speech about unity, about working together to bring honor to their academy. But instead, it sounded more like a call to arms. A subtle declaration of war, between themselves.
Or maybe… that was the point.
Perhaps Ibrain wanted to turn them against each other. Maybe he believed that competition, even internal competition, would push them to achieve more than they ever thought possible.
And, for some of them, it was already working. After all, they were the strongest. The other academies? They were just background noise. If they wanted a real challenge, they had no choice but to surpass each other.
That was when one of the students raised her hand.
“Sir… will our competitors only come from within the Central Academy?” a female student asked, her voice respectful but curious.
Ibrain tilted his head, considering her.
“You ask if only our academy contains the elite?” he said. “Tell me, why would a talented student choose any other school, when this academy is led by a Grand Magus?”
His gaze swept the room, cold and unwavering.
“If there were another academy led by a Grand Magus, then yes, perhaps it would attract the same level of talent. But there isn’t. So no, you don’t need to worry about the others. The only true competition is right here, beside you.”
Despite his confidence, the students couldn’t help but feel nervous. Some of them had barely been at the Central Mage Academy for a year. The thought of standing before the entire magical world, and competing, was overwhelming.
But then, Ibrain’s voice shifted.
“However,” he said slowly, “as mages, we must always prepare for the exception to the rule.”
The tone of his words changed. There was an edge now, a flicker of something deeper. Something… unstable.
“Every now and then,” he continued, “one appears. Someone from nothing. Someone from the slums, with no family background, no noble bloodline, no magical legacy, and yet, somehow, they rise.”
His fingers tightened behind his back.
“They achieve things they shouldn’t be capable of. They wield magic as if the world itself chose them. But is that fair? Should talent outweigh our hard work, our training, everything we’ve sacrificed?”
Several students exchanged uneasy glances.
One of them, a girl named Kelly, studied Ibrain closely. She was one of the chosen representatives for the event, hard-working, determined, and loyal to the academy. But right now, as she watched the Grand Magus speak, her thoughts spiraled.
‘He seems… unstable,’ Kelly thought. ‘Can the others see it too?’
Harvey had told her that becoming a standout student would bring her closer to the Grand Magus, and that such a connection might be useful one day, when the time was right.
But standing here, in front of him now, she was starting to question that advice.
Ibrain’s words didn’t sound like strategy. They sounded like fear. His voice was trembling ever so slightly beneath the surface, as if he were haunted by something.
‘Was he always like this… or has something happened to him?’ she wondered.
Suddenly, Ibrain stretched out his hand, and several glowing objects began to float through the air toward the students.
Small, pill-like devices, round and metallic, hovered in front of each of them.
“No matter what,” Ibrain said slowly, “the Central Academy must stay on top. You are our future. You are our pride.”
His eyes darkened.
“If you ever find yourselves on the brink of defeat at the Magical Exchange… you are to take these.”
The room was silent. The floating devices hovered like ghostly warnings.
“What I’ve just given you… is your ticket to a great future,” Ibrain said, his voice calm, but something in his eyes betrayed desperation.
A silence lingered. One that felt less like awe… and more like doubt.
****
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