Two days later, under a pale sky and wind that carried the sharp scent of mountain pine, I walked beside Cassandra through the Academy’s east courtyard. I’d expected her to ask questions on the way—what to say, what not to say, how to act in front of vipers in fine robes—but she said nothing. She wore her uniform like armor, her face a mask carved from polished ice. Most students would’ve fidgeted, stumbled through anxieties, maybe even asked to skip this suicidal family field trip.
Cassandra rely walked.
The Drelmont estate annex lood at the far end of the academy grounds, separated from the main campus like a plague ward dressed in marble. Ornate columns, statues of ancestors who probably murdered their way into the family tree, and that damned crest—a silver serpent biting its own tail.
As the guards opened the double doors, I took a breath and muttered, "Keep your head down, speak only when addressed, and if soone offers you tea, assu it’s poisoned."
Cassandra didn’t smile. "I brought my own," she said, pulling a sealed vial from her sleeve.
I choked on a laugh. "You are my favorite little sociopath."
We stepped into a hall lined with oil paintings, soft velvet carpets, and tension so thick you could cut it with a wooden spoon. At the end of the room stood Elric Drelmont, looking exactly like the kind of man who’d hire a bard to narrate his own morning routine. Platinum blonde hair combed back, perfectly tailored robes with just enough magical embroidery to say I’m important but not compensating, and the smile of a predator who enjoyed setting mousetraps just to hear the squeak.
"Lucian," he said, as if we were brunch partners and not childhood enemies. "And... this must be the curious Miss Fenn. I’ve heard such whispers about you."
Cassandra tilted her head ever so slightly. "Only whispers?"
Elric blinked. I smiled like I’d just watched soone slap a noble with a fish.
We sat at a long table over tea that I definitely didn’t drink. Elric launched into pleasantries with the enthusiasm of a man who sharpened his words every morning. He asked about Cassandra’s studies, her family background, her plans for the future. All very professional—on the surface.
Underneath, every word was a blade testing her armor.
Cassandra parried every strike with the grace of a duel-worn veteran.
"No, I’ve never been to the Southern Provinces. But I read your cousin’s moir on the trade war—fascinating errors in logic."
"My family is... unremarkable. But so are many foundations that support great towers."
"No, I’m not interested in politics. I find subtle poisons tiring."
If Elric was amused, he didn’t show it. But I saw the tightening of his jaw. He was used to being the smartest snake in the room. He didn’t like discovering soone else had venom.
The eting ended, eventually, with promises of future dialogue and an offer for Cassandra to visit the Drelmont archives. She declined, politely.
On the way out, she finally asked, "Why did you bring here?"
"Because they wanted to see if you were dangerous," I said. "Now they know you are."
The next day, I returned to teaching like nothing had happened. Class C had gathered in the courtyard for outdoor runic exercises, most of them groaning as I dropped a sack of slate tiles and chalk in front of them.
"Guess what, my little tragedies-in-training? Today’s lesson is Runes Under Pressure. That’s right—combat carving."
Felix raised a hand. "Sir, is that legal?"
"No. But neither is half the crap you’ll face out there, so we’re learning it anyway."
Julien sighed. "So what’s the catch?"
I grinned. "Each of you has to draw a functioning rune shield while dodging small, definitely-not-lethal fireballs. If it fails, well..." I tossed a stone, and a small rune flared on the ground. It exploded with a harmless puff of black soot. "You get to eat dirt. Or in Mira’s case—humiliation."
"I live off spite," she muttered, cracking her knuckles.
Wallace was already sketching ideas with a glint in his eye that made nervous.
Leo groaned. "Why are we doing this again?"
"Because," I said, summoning a training dummy and carving a rune into its chest in under three seconds, "if you can’t function under stress, you’re just another fancy corpse."
Felix raised his hand again. "If I am a fancy corpse, can I haunt the first girl who rejects ?"
"Only if you do it in rhyming couplets."
Training began in chaos and ended in soot-covered exhaustion. Wallace’s shield exploded and launched him into a tree. Cassandra’s glowed perfectly. Julien’s worked but reflected a fireball into Garrick’s pants. Mira laughed so hard she dropped her own chalk.
It was a good day.
A normal day.
But as I watched them, smiling through burns and failure, I couldn’t ignore the chill creeping back into my spine.
The Drelmonts weren’t done.
And whatever ga they were playing, Cassandra was now part of it.
Which ant so was I.
The light in my office was dim, cast in soft hues by the failing daylight. The shadows stretched long over my desk, and the air felt thick with the familiar weight of responsibilities that refused to let go. I took another sip of my bitterleaf tea, the warmth settling in my chest as I leaned back in the chair, staring at the pile of unreviewed reports.
For the briefest mont, I closed my eyes. I hadn’t even thought about the Black Stone Mountain survival camp quest since it was assigned. Between dodging political minefields and keeping my students alive, it had slipped my mind entirely.
I opened my status window absentmindedly, intending to check on a few things, when sothing unfamiliar flashed on the screen.
___
[System Log]
— Designation: Lucian Drelmont
— Status: Instructor (Noctis Ardentis Academy)
— Assignnt: Class C
[Active Directives:]
— Maintain Instructor Status and gain the trust of Class C.
— Survive the Black Stone Mountain survival camp with the bare minimum supplies. (Completed)
___
I blinked. The quest—completed?
I’d honestly forgotten all about it. The survival camp had been a logistical nightmare, a constant struggle with the elents, the beasts, and my own sanity. But... sohow, I’d managed to get through it, dragging a good portion of Class C with , of course.
I glanced at the "Reward For Completion" section, eager to see what I’d earned. I hadn’t really been expecting much—sothing mundane, like a badge of completion or maybe so trivial item—but what appeared was a surprise.
___
[Reward For Completion:]
— Class C students trust 20
— Ring of Cernex
___
I almost snorted. A ring. Of course. The Ring of Cernex was nothing to scoff at, but it was hardly the kind of reward I expected for surviving that hellhole of a camp. Still, I’d take it. I wasn’t going to complain about a magical ring that probably improved so minor stats or provided so passive effect I could make use of.
I clicked to accept the reward and imdiately felt a weight settle on my finger. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but now it was there—an intricate silver band with faint, shifting runes etched into it. The Ring of Cernex felt... oddly familiar, as though it had been designed specifically to fit my hand.
I inspected the ring’s properties in my system window.
___
Ring of Cernex
— A ring forged from a rare tal found deep within the Black Stone Mountains.
— Grants the wearer enhanced mana control and the ability to discern elental imbalances in the surrounding environnt.
— Mana Control 10
— Elental Affinity – Enhanced Perception
___
That was... unexpectedly useful. Enhanced mana control. It wasn’t a huge boost, but it would definitely help with so of my less refined spellcasting. The ability to detect elental imbalances was a nice touch too—if there was one thing this academy could always use more of, it was balance in magical fields.
As I was about to close the window, another notification popped up, flashing red and bolded in my peripheral vision.
___
[New Quest Assigned:]
— Designation: Lucian Drelmont
— Quest: Courtroom Gambit
— Description: Attend the High Tower Council Tribunal, defend your position as Instructor, and avoid being expelled. The Tribunal will assess your ability to retain Class C’s trust and your worth as a teacher. Failure to impress the Council will result in imdiate dismissal from the academy.
___
My eyes narrowed. A new quest, just like that. Courtroom Gambit. It didn’t take a genius to figure out this was connected to the upcoming tribunal Elyra had ntioned earlier. They’d be looking at everything—my teaching thods, my conduct, my relationship with my students, the works. This wasn’t just about defending my position as an instructor. It was about my entire career, my life in this world.
I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. I could already feel the pressure mounting, the weight of the upcoming trial pressing down on . But there was sothing else—sothing that felt off. The quest wasn’t as simple as "prove yourself" or "win the council’s approval." It was more... insidious. It was about the threat of failure, about everything I had worked for being at risk.
I clicked on the quest to check its details.
___
[Courtroom Gambit]
— Objective: Survive the Tribunal by impressing the High Tower Council.
— Sub-Objectives:
1. Show your competency as an instructor.
2. Maintain Class C’s trust at a level no lower than 15.
3. Present a strong case for your teaching thods.
4. Navigate any political or personal agendas within the Council.
[Rewards for Completion:]
— Class C students’ trust 25
— Enhanced Instructor’s Title
— Mystic Ink – Arcane Conduit
[Penalty for Failure:]
— Expulsion from Noctis Ardentis Academy
— Permanent Reputation Penalty with the High Tower Council
___
I clicked through the tabs, reading the details with growing apprehension. Maintaining Class C’s trust was a given—at least I had that much going for . The 25 boost to trust would bring to a solid 45, making all but untouchable, but that was just one part of the puzzle.
Impressing the Council wasn’t going to be a simple task. They were politicians, first and foremost. And second, I had to present a case for my teaching thods. My mind flitted over the absurdity of it all. I hadn’t designed my teaching style to win political favors. I’d designed it to make sure the idiots I taught didn’t get themselves killed by real-world stakes. But now, it seed like I had to prove that to them.
The Mystic Ink, though... that was interesting. Arcane Conduit. I had a few ideas about what that could be, but nothing concrete yet.
I stared at the screen for a few monts longer, letting the quest sink in.
This wasn’t just a political trial—it was my trial. This was where I’d make or break my position at the academy. There was no room for failure, and if I didn’t perform well, everything I’d done here would collapse.
But I wasn’t just going to survive this tribunal. I was going to make it work.
I had three days. Three days to ensure my survival, to change the course of my future, and to secure my place in this world—or risk losing it all.
And I wasn’t about to go down without a fight.
I stood up, pushing the chair back with a creak. Ti to prepare for war.
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