The Vault chamber remained eerily silent, save for the faint hum of mana still lingering in the air. The battle had ended, but its toll was evident—battered bodies, weary beasts, and the oppressive weight of uncertainty pressing upon everyone.
Sang-hoon lay sprawled on the cold marble floor, his breaths shallow and labored. Kaelith perched protectively beside him, his usually iridescent scales dulled by exhaustion.
Elena knelt a few paces away, her Wyvern standing sentinel as she clutched her spear for support.
In the center of the chamber, the headmaster stood, his staff still glowing faintly. His sharp eyes scanned the room, assessing the aftermath before they finally landed on Sang-hoon.
"Elyska Grayson," the headmaster said, his voice firm yet calm. "We need to talk."
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The headmaster's private study was a stark contrast to the Vault. It was warm, with bookshelves lining the walls and a single mana crystal illuminating the room with a soft, golden glow. Sang-hoon sat in a sturdy wooden chair, his lance resting against the desk.
Elena and Mira had insisted on accompanying him but were stopped outside by the headmaster's assistants. Only Sang-hoon and the headmaster remained within the room.
The headmaster sat across from him, his gaze penetrating.
Despite his aged appearance, there was nothing frail about the man. His presence was commanding, and Sang-hoon could feel the weight of his authority pressing down on him.
"You knew," the headmaster began, his tone leaving no room for evasion. "You knew about the attack, about Darien—no, Serath Kain—and yet you did not report it."
Sang-hoon's stomach twisted. He had anticipated this moment but had no perfect answer.
"I suspected," Sang-hoon replied carefully, his voice steady despite the rapid beating of his heart. "But I didn't have solid proof."
The headmaster raised an eyebrow. "And yet, you acted decisively tonight, as if you knew exactly what would happen. That level of certainty only comes from one of two sources: knowledge or conspiracy. Which is it?"
Sang-hoon hesitated.
The truth—that he was a transmigrated soul with knowledge from a video game—was out of the question.
Instead, he leaned into a version of the truth, one the headmaster might accept.
"I overheard things," Sang-hoon said. "Small details. Conversations that didn't fit together until now. Darien—Serath—was always careful, but there were moments when his facade slipped. I pieced together what I could. Tonight was a gamble, but it was the only chance I had to confirm my suspicions."
The headmaster studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "You are either incredibly resourceful or an exceptional liar."
Sang-hoon tensed.
The headmaster sighed. "Regardless, your actions tonight saved lives. But the cost of failure cannot be ignored. The Vault's Heart has been stolen, and Serath Kain has ascended into something far more dangerous. This failure falls on all of us—myself included."
Sang-hoon blinked, surprised by the admission.
"You knew Darien's true name was actually Serath Kain. You also seem to know about the Heart," the headmaster continued, his gaze narrowing. "A relic that few outside the upper echelons of the Academy are aware of. Care to explain?"
This was a precarious line.
Sang-hoon drew on the fragmented memories imparted by Count Arvendale. "During my training, I discovered hidden records among the academy," he said carefully. "They mentioned the Heart, its properties, and its connection to the Vault. I used that knowledge to anticipate Serath's next move."
The headmaster's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Hidden records, you say? Convenient."
Sang-hoon's pulse quickened, but he forced himself to hold the older man's gaze. "I have no reason to lie, Headmaster. I want the Academy safe as much as you do."
A tense silence stretched between them before the headmaster spoke again.
"The Empire's Inquisitors will demand answers when they hear of tonight's events," he said. "They will not be as lenient as I am. If I protect you, I will need something in return. Something to justify why I shouldn't hand you over for questioning."
Sang-hoon swallowed hard. "What do you need?"
The headmaster leaned forward, his eyes sharp.
"You have insight into Serath's plans. Perhaps even more than you've shared with me. I need you to continue investigating, discreetly. Find out what his next move will be, and help us prepare for it."
It was a dangerous offer, but Sang-hoon nodded. "I'll do it."
"Good." The headmaster stood, signaling the end of the conversation. "But be warned: if I find that you've withheld anything or acted against the Academy's interests, no one will protect you. I'll personally give you to the guards."
Sang-hoon stood as well, his legs shaky but steady enough to hold his weight. "Understood."
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Elena and Mira were waiting when Sang-hoon emerged, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.
"What did he say?" Mira asked.
Sang-hoon exhaled heavily. "I'm not being expelled or handed over to the Inquisitors, if that's what you're worried about. But I've got work to do."
Elena's eyes narrowed. "Work? He's putting this on you?"
"I volunteered," Sang-hoon corrected, though the weight of the responsibility already pressed heavily on his shoulders. "If I can stop Serath, I will."
Kaelith, who had been curled at Elena's feet, chirped softly and leapt onto Sang-hoon's shoulder. The little dragon nuzzled his cheek, a rare moment of comfort amid the tension.
Elena crossed her arms, her expression softening. "You've got guts, rookie. Just don't get yourself killed."
"I'll try," Sang-hoon replied with a weak smile.
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Far from the Academy, in a secluded chamber lit by flickering torches, Kaizareth stood before a kneeling figure cloaked in shadow.
"You failed," the figure said, their voice cold and sharp.
Kaizareth's crimson eyes flared. "The Heart is mine, and the Academy is weakened. That is not failure."
"The Reaver will not see it that way," the figure replied. "You were to destroy them entirely."
Kaizareth's claws flexed, his shadow blade materializing in his hand. "Their destruction is inevitable. Let them think they've won for now. It will make their fall all the sweeter."
The figure was silent for a moment before nodding. "Very well. But the Reaver's patience is not infinite. Do not disappoint him again."
Kaizareth turned, his monstrous form dissolving into the shadows as he left the chamber.
The figure stood, their face still obscured. "Soon, the light of this world will be snuffed out, and the Reaver shall rise."
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Sang-hoon stood in the dormitory courtyard, gazing up at the stars just as the imperial guard and the inquisitors arrived. The events of the night replayed in his mind—his failures, his triumphs, and the immense task that lay ahead.
Kaelith curled on his lap, letting out a soft hum as Sang-hoon stroked his back.
"We've got a long road ahead," Sang-hoon murmured.
The stars offered no answers, but they felt like a promise. The fight was far from over.