Avian's POV - Academy Grounds, Mid-Morning
The Church Knights weren't setting up checkpoints, but they might as well have been. Every corner had a pair of them, white cloaks bright against Academy stone, asking "routine questions" of any student who looked nervous.
"Excuse , young lord." A Shepherd materialized beside a first-year carrying too many books. "Might we have a word about your reading materials?"
"They're just textbooks—"
"Of course. We simply want to ensure they're appropriate. The Church cares deeply about your spiritual education."
The kid fumbled his books. Papers scattered. Three Knights imdiately bent to "help," examining each page with the kind of careful attention usually reserved for evidence.
"Back off," Avian said, not bothering to stop. "The Academy's made it clear you have no authority here."
The Shepherd straightened, mask turning toward him. "Lord Veritas. We're simply concerned for student welfare—"
"Be concerned sowhere else. Preferably off Academy grounds."
"The Archbishop will hear of this interference."
"Good. Tell him I said to fuck off too."
Kai caught up as Avian continued walking, leaving the Shepherds to mutter among themselves.
"Subtle," Kai observed.
"They're pushing. After what the Dean did to that Lightbringer yesterday, they should know better."
"After what happened in the Underground last night, they're desperate to look strong."
The first article—"The Commander Who Saved the East"—had been out for two days now, and the argunts hadn't stopped. If anything, they'd intensified. A group of third-years near the fountain were deep in heated discussion, voices carrying.
"—can't just dismiss military records because they're inconvenient—"
"—Church says they're forged—"
"—Church says a lot of things—"
A pair of Knights drifted closer to that group, not intervening but obviously listening. The students noticed and lowered their voices, but didn't stop talking.
"Is Leontis stable?" Kai asked.
"Define stable."
"Not publicly reciting forbidden military history."
"Then no. Should check on him later."
"After your eting with the Archbishop?"
"If they don't find an excuse to arrest ."
Professor Harwick stood at the end of the hallway, facing off with three Church Knights. The scarred combat instructor looked ready to demonstrate why he'd survived whatever had taken his eye.
"—Academy business is Academy business," Harwick was saying. "You have no authority to demand student records."
"We're investigating heresy," the lead Knight replied. "That transcends institutional boundaries."
"Does it? Show the writ. Show the seal from the Imperial Magistrate granting you jurisdiction."
"The Church doesn't need—"
"The Church needs exactly what every other organization needs—legal authority." Harwick's hand rested on his sword. "Which you don't have."
The tension stretched until Avian thought sothing might snap. Then bells rang across the Academy—not normal hour bells but the urgent summons to assembly.
The Knights withdrew, but their leader paused. "This isn't over, Professor."
"Looking forward to continuing our discussion," Harwick replied with a smile that promised violence.
As the Knights left, Harwick caught Avian's eye. "Assembly hall. Now. Archbishop Caldris arrived an hour ago—he was already traveling when last night's incident occurred. Wants to address everyone."
The Great Hall - Noon
The Archbishop hadn't just arrived. He'd made an entrance.
Five Church Knights in full ceremonial armor stood at strategic points around the hall. Archbishop Caldris himself stood at the podium, looking like everyone's kind grandfather if their grandfather could call down divine judgnt. His gentle smile sohow made him more unsettling than any scowling inquisitor.
"My children," he began, voice carrying without effort. "I co to you in troubled tis. Truth twisted into lies. Discord disguised as enlightennt. So among you have been led astray by clever words and false histories."
The hall was divided—so students nodding along, others scowling, most just confused. The first article had shaken faith, but hadn't broken it. Yet.
"The article circulating claims our beloved Saint Vaerin's history has been misrepresented." The Archbishop's smile never wavered. "Such painful deceptions, designed to shake your faith. The Commander Who Saved the East—a fantasy built on fragnts of misunderstood records."
"What about the military dispatches?" soone called out from the crowd.
The Archbishop's gaze swept toward the voice. "Ah, questioning minds. The dispatches were real, yes. But incomplete. Context removed. The full records show Commander D was a minor figure, his role inflated by enemies of the faith seeking to diminish Saint Vaerin's victories."
Bullshit wrapped in silk, Avian thought, but delivered with such certainty that so students are buying it.
"I understand your confusion. Your doubts. That is why I've co personally—I'd already begun traveling when I heard of certain... disturbing events. The timing proved fortuitous." His smile never wavered. "I'm here to remind you of truth. To protect you from those who would use your natural curiosity against you."
He raised his hand, and divine light pulsed from his palm. Soft, warm, comforting. Several students sighed as it washed over them.
But when it reached Avian, it recoiled.
The Archbishop's eyes found him imdiately. His smile widened slightly.
"Interesting," he murmured, though his voice still carried. "It seems we have those among us bearing unusual protections. Divine light recognizes divine purpose... and divine opposition."
Every eye turned toward Avian's section. He kept his expression neutral, but around him, whispers erupted imdiately.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringent.
"Was it him?"
"Could be anyone in that area..."
"But he was dead center..."
"The divine light actually recoiled—I've never seen that happen..."
About ti he figured sothing out.
"But that's a matter for private discussion," the Archbishop continued smoothly. "Dean Aldrich, might we speak after? There are concerns about Academy security we should address."
The Dean stood from his seat, expression carved from stone. "My office is available at your convenience, Your Grace."
"Excellent. And Lord Veritas? Please join us."
The specific summons caused more whispers. Students near Avian edged away slightly.
"Students, please rember—your souls are precious. Don't let them be tainted by those who would rewrite history for their own ends. The Truth's Witness, whoever they are, serves only chaos."
He stepped down from the podium, but the threat lingered like incense. Students imdiately erupted in heated discussion as they began filing out.
"Did you see that? The light actually recoiled!"
"Who was it? Soone in the center sections—"
"Lord Veritas was right there..."
"Could've been anyone near him—"
"Never seen divine light reject soone like that—"
"Well," Kai said quietly as they pushed through the crowd. "That was subtle."
"He knows about the Underground," Avian said calmly. "Was only a matter of ti."
"What will you do?"
"Whatever's necessary." Avian stood. "We need to deal with that rchant you found watching the distribution center. Before the second article drops."
"You think it's coming soon?"
"No idea when, but we need to cripple local distribution as soon as possible. Can't let them keep spreading through the Academy."
"After your eting with the Archbishop?"
"If they don't find an excuse to arrest ."
Dean's Tower - Mid-Afternoon
The climb felt longer knowing the Archbishop waited above. His knights remained outside the tower—even they understood the Dean's domain was off-limits.
He found Dean Aldrich behind his crystal desk, but he wasn't alone. Archbishop Caldris sat across from him, sipping tea like they were discussing weather rather than heresy.
"Ah, Lord Veritas," the Archbishop said warmly. "Please, sit. We were just discussing the Academy's remarkable student body."
Avian sat carefully. The Archbishop's presence felt like standing next to a forge—overwhelming heat that could either warm or burn.
"Lord Veritas in particular," the Archbishop continued. "Son of Aedric, one of the Five Great Blades. Your demonstration of Grandmaster-rank aura to Professor Harwick was quite remarkable, I'm told."
"I do my best."
"Indeed. Your best seems to include so unusual techniques. Old techniques. The kind that haven't been seen for centuries."
Honey over steel, Avian thought, but the steel's still there.
"I've had excellent teachers."
"Of course." The Archbishop set down his teacup. "I must say, the Academy seems to have a problem with security. The Underground, for instance. Such a dangerous place for students."
"Students rarely go there," the Dean said mildly. "And Your Grace, I'd remind you to be careful in how you approach this. The Academy values its independence."
"As it should. I'm rely expressing concern." The Archbishop's smile never wavered. "Especially after last night's incident. Two of my knights killed while investigating heretical distributions." His eyes never left Avian. "The survivor—a remarkably talented young woman—described sothing interesting. A masked swordsman with a demon blade. She recognized the aura as Grandmaster-rank through its sheer weight and flow. Quite perceptive for one so young."
The Dean's fingers tapped once on his desk—a warning.
"Tragic," Avian said. "The Underground is dangerous."
"Indeed. Which is why the Church will be taking good care of it from now on." The Archbishop's smile widened. "We're increasing patrols significantly. One might say we're turning it into a fortress. For everyone's safety, of course."
Blocking the distribution routes. Smart.
"That seems excessive," the Dean noted. "And again, Your Grace, the Academy's authority—"
"Extends to the Academy. The Underground is technically city territory." The temperature dropped slightly. "But I'm not here to argue jurisdiction. Simply ensuring no further incidents occur."
He stood smoothly. "Lord Veritas, a word of advice. Your father is a great man. One of the Empire's pillars. It would be... unfortunate if his son were caught up in sothing that brought sha to that na."
Avian t his gaze directly. "I appreciate your concern. But I don't give a shit what you think."
The Dean's teacup rattled slightly. "Lord Veritas. Respect."
But the Archbishop just smiled wider, and for a mont, it was the smile of sothing that had outlived empires.
"Such spirit. Your father was the sa at your age. Thought himself invincible." He moved toward the door. "I have all the ti in the world, young lord. But I don't need all of it to deal with you. The truth always surfaces. And when it does..." He paused. "Well, let's hope you're on the right side of it."
He left, robes swirling.
The Dean waited until the footsteps faded, then activated privacy wards with a gesture.
"That was foolish."
"He already knows. Why pretend otherwise?"
"Because now he knows you know he knows." The Dean leaned back. "The Archbishop plays a longer ga than simple confrontation. He's giving you rope."
"To hang myself with?"
"Precisely." The Dean's ancient eyes studied him. "I won't intervene in whatever ga you're playing, Lord Veritas. But understand this—the Academy's independence has limits. If you bring war to my gates, I will end it. One way or another."
"Understood."
"I doubt that, but we'll see." He deactivated the wards. "Try not to cause any more problems this week. Leave people alive if possible."
"What makes you think I've caused problems?"
"The Church has set up dical camps. Brought in extra healers. More than they'd need for simple investigations." The Dean's eyes glinted. "Either sothing incited them, or they're preparing for sothing. Or both. Whatever you may or may not have done, be more careful."
Avian left, descending the long stairway. The Church Knights watched him pass from outside, and he could feel their hostility like heat from a forge.
Need to deal with that rchant. The Underground is locked down. Have to find another way.
That Evening - Leontis's Room
Avian found Leontis surrounded by even more papers than usual. The bard looked up with relief.
"Finally. The protagonist was beginning to think you'd forgotten again."
"Had a eting with the Archbishop. How are you holding up? Heard you called in sick."
"Easier than explaining spontaneous historical recitations to concerned professors." He picked up the Resonance Codex, which humd with barely contained power. "The mories are getting stronger."
"What kind of mories?"
"Specific ones. Sequential. From soone who witnessed everything." He frowned in concentration. "A bard, I think. Soone trying to write the greatest tale of all ti. They were there, docunting everything. Every battle. Every mont."
"Recording the war?"
"Recording Commander D specifically. Following him. Watching from a distance." Leontis's expression grew troubled. "Whoever this was, they saw him beco the Demon King. They rember the transformation."
Avian's blood chilled. "What do they rember?"
"Not enough. Yet. But it's coming. Each trigger brings more." Leontis stood. "Avian? Whatever you're really here for, whatever you're looking for... I think we're running out of ti to find it."
"Why?"
"Because the Archbishop isn't here to investigate. He's here to prepare for war. Look at the patterns—increased patrols, dical camps, knights everywhere. This is military preparation, not religious inquiry."
Outside, the Academy grounds were tense with unspoken threats. Church Knights continued their "concerned inquiries." Students huddled in groups, discussing the first article in hushed tones, speculating about who had caused the divine light to recoil.
Avian left Leontis's room and found Kai waiting in the hallway.
"How bad?" Kai asked.
"The Underground is completely locked down."
"So the rchant?"
"We need to plan sothing else." Avian started walking. "His house, maybe. Tomorrow night. Need to think it through."
"That's bold."
"That's necessary. And it's not just about distribution - we need to find the chain that leads back to Seren. If we can get to her, understand why she's doing this, maybe we can stop her before more people die." Avian's jaw tightened. "These articles are going to start a war if they continue."
They walked in silence back to their dormitory. The Academy at night felt different now—watched, asured, evaluated. Every shadow could hide a Church spy. Every conversation could be reported.
"The Archbishop knows it was ," Avian said quietly. "He's just waiting for the right mont."
"So why not arrest you?"
"Because he's smarter than that. Arresting Aedric's son without absolute proof would cause political problems. But when that girl identifies herself..."
"He gets his result without the political fallout."
"Exactly."
They reached their rooms. Before separating, Kai asked, "What's the play?"
"The rchant tomorrow to find the source. Stop the local distribution and trace it back to whoever's writing these." Avian's expression hardened. "Then we deal with whatever cos."
"And the girl?"
Avian thought about the fifteen-year-old who'd sworn vengeance over her ntor's corpse. If I were her, I'd be training every waking mont. Probably is right now.
"She'll co when she's ready. Could be weeks, could be months. Doesn't matter."
As he closed his door, he could hear the Academy bells tolling the late hour. Sowhere in the Church camp, a girl was probably pushing herself past exhaustion, each strike of her practice sword a promise of vengeance.
The articles had to be coming from sowhere with resources, Avian thought. Distribution across multiple cities simultaneously, quality printing, the network to spread them... The capital's the only place with that kind of infrastructure.
Sowhere in that sprawling city, Seren Lyselle was carefully preparing her next truth, unaware that her words had already cost two lives.
And in his room, Leontis played lodies from a war five centuries past, mories of so long-dead bard surfacing with each note.
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