Chapter 288

Chapter 288 – Enough to Make One Dream

The summer morning had arrived with absolute intensity.

Beating down mercilessly, the blazing sun illuminated the multitudes of academy pupils who had congregated within the vast courtyard of the Sage’s Tower.

Because the introductory, intermediate, and master-level courses were all present together, even that massive plaza felt suffocatingly constrained.

Drenched in perspiration due to the oppressive warmth, the students were forced to pack tightly against one another under the direction of the event coordinators. On the other hand, the individuals occupying the forward stage presented an entirely serene demeanor.

They enjoyed plush seating and magical devices engineered to repel the climate.

While some school administrators were among them, the vast majority consisted of associates belonging to the Second Prince’s alliance.

Having been guaranteed prominent positions within the school’s upcoming administration, these people were already behaving as though the institution belonged to them, laughing and conversing lightheartedly. It was at this juncture that Assistant Professor Yorbi stepped up to the speaker’s stand.

[Cough, cough. I express my gratitude to our esteemed visitors for taking their places. We shall now begin the induction ceremony to welcome the 103rd leader of Jenion Academy.]

A greasy countenance.

It seemed improbable that this was the very individual who had been trembling under intense questioning merely days prior; his face shone with an oily smugness, and he had an excellent reason for it.

• You hold the highest seniority among the non-full faculty, do you not? That is more than sufficient ground to grant you a permanent chair…

The investigator had presented an irresistible bribe to Yorbi, who had accepted the offer without a moment’s hesitation.

The task assigned to Yorbi was basic.

Organize the remaining assistant professors and provide evidence of President Schwart’s illicit dealings.

It required little effort.

His deceptive eloquence, highly practiced at shifting the emotions and perspectives of others, was plenty to sway the exhausted lower faculty, while the investigators lent their full backing.

The outcome?

• My compliments. As the upcoming term approaches, consider which departmental laboratory you desire. I shall do everything in my power to accommodate your wishes.

Having at last claimed the coveted permanent chair he had long desired, Yorbi was unable to hide the smirk spreading across his lips.

Nevertheless, business remained.

[Now, prior to moving forward, let us pause to convey our appreciation for the enlightened and merciful favor of His Imperial Majesty, and join in our land’s song.]

Yorbi gathered his thoughts and pressed onward with the proceedings.

The seated dignitaries stood up, and before long, the grand song of the domain resonated over the Sage’s Tower courtyard.

Following that, the schedule moved along precisely as planned.

Jenion Academy had been ensnared by political authorities numerous times over its long past, but this particular event was the most ignoble of all.

Unqualified schemers envisioned authority far above their capabilities, their avaricious expressions revealed, casting a dark pall over the sanctuary of learning that had gleamed unsullied for generations.

Illumination appears more striking amidst the shadows, but in the presence of those crude grins, even the light felt powerless.

For whose benefit was this throne intended?

This celebration belonged exclusively to them.

The rightful guardians of this hall of wisdom, who were meant to guide what lay ahead, were relegated to mere background figures.

Erudition was degraded into a plaything for the ruling class, serving only to satisfy the indulgence of gluttonous pigs, while true intellect was discarded without pity.

Such was the desecration orchestrated by the Second Prince.

A blemish that would defile the historical records if captured, yet far too insignificant to truly deserve a mention within them.

Lamentably, this reflected the current reality of the realm.

The ruler neither dismissed nor revered Jenion Academy; to the First Prince, it represented nothing more than one among several political battlegrounds.

Perhaps this presented a chance to completely bring Jenion Academy under the control of the sovereign house.

Even though Jenion was technically a state-funded learning center, it never pledged unquestioning devotion.

The actual intentions were restricted only to those masterminding the plot.

Regardless of the underlying motives, however.

[…At this time, please offer a warm welcome to Viscount Rigen von Wiberter, our incoming 103rd president.]

In that very moment.

The grand tree, planted in antiquity by the Sage and cultivated across eras of wisdom to bless the domain with its harvest, was on the verge of being chopped down.

“……”

The 103rd administrator, Viscount Rigen von Wiberter, stepped onto the elevated stage and looked down at the assembled mass. His pale, unsettling features gleamed with a damp sweat, resembling a slaughterer preparing to slice the throat of a beast he had long anticipated.

In reality, his inner musings matched that exact image.

‘…The irritating inheritance of the Sage at last falls under the dominion of Salvatium.’

For someone seeking the remnants of the flawed Frizen, this marked a monumental victory.

Ever since the inception of Jenion Academy, how many of Salvatium’s endeavors had been ruined by its former students?

However.

‘The inherent hierarchy ultimately favors the physical world.’

Only the grand inversion persists forever.

Regardless of how grand the Sage’s legacy might be, it was nothing but a dim memory dissolving into the passage of history.

This entire situation was his own creation.

While pursuing the location of Frizen’s relic, he had fed details regarding Obern to the Second Prince’s camp and assumed the persona of the individual they intended to place as the new leader.

‘And if he manages this correctly…’

He might even manipulate the entire realm by utilizing the Second Prince.

Naturally, that development belonged to a far more distant period.

The Golden Demon Master, concealing himself beneath the guise of Viscount Rigen, let his eyes drift across the gathering.

Gluttonous beasts and tender seedlings occupied his vision. In a short while, all of it would belong to his… Salvatium’s dominion.

Experiencing an intense wave of gratification welling up from inside, the Golden Demon Master fully embraced his performance as Viscount Rigen.

Right then.

“Delighted to…”

An abrupt manifestation materialized directly behind him.

The accompanying utterance followed without delay.

“Right, I’m delighted as well.”

“……!”

The Golden Demon Master instantly leaped away from the sound and spun around. Positioned there was a concealed individual wrapped in a murky cloak.

Just as he comprehended that much.

“Defend yourself properly. Otherwise, you perish.”

A brilliant flash erupted from the hidden person’s hand, accompanied by a ferocious wave of heat hurtling straight toward the Golden Demon Master’s face!

In that microsecond, a thought struck the Golden Demon Master.

‘I am… finished.’

His physical reflexes moved swifter than his mind.

His inner reservoir surged violently. Heavy, dark mana burst forth like molten rock, constructing a defensive wall. The intense warmth dissipated harmlessly when it struck the ominous dark barrier.

He had narrowly escaped destruction.

However.

The uproar ignited at that very instant.

“That energy was…”

“……Dark mana?”

Astanished exclamations resounded from the rear. The Golden Demon Master rapidly dropped the defensive wall, but the damage was already done.

As if on cue, shouting erupted from among the spectators.

“Rigen! The viscount! Belongs to! the Second Prince’s! faction! Rigen von Wiberter! Is a dark spellcaster?!”

“The Second Prince! Is conspiring! With a dark spellcaster!”

“A Second Prince! Allied! With dark mages!”

The declarations sounded awkwardly rehearsed, yet they were entirely effective at throwing the entire gathering into utter bedlam.

The Golden Demon Master grimaced at the shouting.

Conspiring with the Second Prince? No, that was hardly the issue at this juncture.

The exposure of his true nature meant that every single strategy had turned to ash.

“Curse… it.”

While the Golden Demon Master breathed a quiet oath in utter frustration, Aster offered a low complaint regarding the incredibly stiff attempts at instigation.

“Riley, you idiot… I instructed you to make it sound believable.”

It was fortunate that panic had broken out; any bystander could recognize that those staged phrases were completely unnatural. And from what back alley did he even recruit these lowlifes to act as provocateurs… Good grief.

Regardless, that was a secondary issue.

“Listen, pal.”

Aster faced the Golden Demon Master, unleashing the fury he had suppressed for so long.

“Why did you target me like that?”

“What are you…”

“No matter how much I ponder it, I cannot comprehend it. From the depths of the Great Forest all the way to this school, does my quiet existence irritate you to that extent?”

This was an earnest inquiry stemming from sheer bewilderment.

……Naturally, he did not anticipate a reply.

“Whatever. Let us settle this with a beating first.”

“……!”

The Golden Demon Master frantically attempted to erect an energy defense, but Aster’s strike arrived much faster.

Thud!

A dull concussion reverberated across the raised stage.

Before the Golden Demon Master could even register the blow, the fist hit down once, twice, a third time… without a shred of mercy.

Repeatedly, without a single pause.

While Aster was dismantling the Golden Demon Master, a fierce panic swept through the crowd beneath the stage due to the unexpected turn of events.

“The Second Prince… in league with dark spellcasters?”

“……Is this accurate?”

A number of aristocrats standing below rapidly stood up and scrambled onto the platform.

“S-Seize him…!”

The command sounded like an instruction to capture the Golden Demon Master, but their true goal was completely opposite.

Regardless of what the Second Prince was plotting, they could not allow a dark practitioner to remain in the custody of that anonymous cloaked figure.

If that individual managed to break free, fabricating a narrative would be simple.

……The identical logic applied if they managed to take custody of the dark spellcaster themselves.

Consequently.

Hummmm…

While several aristocrats unsheathed their blades and stepped forward, magical circles began forming below.

They might have lacked the qualifications for a full faculty position, but these were individuals who had spent their entire existences mastering the arcane arts.

Before long, multicolored radiances glowed in the air.

Yet it persisted for merely a fraction of a second.

“Bloody… hell.”

The cloaked individual pummeling the dark mage shifted his gaze upward.

Creak, creeeeeak—

The atmospheric mana froze entirely within a split second.

With the magical energy locked in place, the frantically swirling currents of power came to an immediate standstill.

In just a single heartbeat.

“……Pfft!”

“Urgh!”

The aristocrats below coughed up blood.

The ones rushing up the steps with bared steel fared no better.

Snap, crunch!

“Ack, argh…”

An incomprehensible weight bore down upon their frames. One after another, they loosed their grips on their weapons and collapsed to their knees. Their gazes were forced downward.

In that lone instant.

The restrained nobles could not comprehend this impossible turn of events.

‘What in the…’

‘……world.’

Disjointed thoughts raced through their minds as a freezing tone pierced their hearing.

“Remain completely still, unless you wish to perish.”

The overwhelming weight vanished immediately afterward.

“Cough! Huff! Haa…!”

“Urgh!”

Released from the crushing force, they clutched at their chests and struggled for breath; the spellcasters shut their eyes to stabilize their damaged internal pathways.

In the meantime.

Smash, thwack! Crack!

Grim impacts filled the surroundings.

The aristocrats experienced a sense of absolute helplessness.

Just moments ago, their movements could have been interpreted as a heroic charge to apprehend the dark practitioner.

……An absolute quiet enveloped the massive courtyard.

The sole remaining noises were the agonized whimpers of the Golden Demon Master and the sound of fists hitting flesh.

How much duration slipped away?

‘…This ought to suffice.’

The Golden Demon Master’s countenance had been altered into an unidentifiable mess—a perfectly acceptable result.

Even if his magical concealment dissolved now, not a single soul would be capable of recognizing him as Viscount Rigen.

Having battered him within an inch of his life in front of the entire gathering, Aster stood up straight and ran a hand through his hair.

His eyes scanned through the ocean of people, locking directly onto a specific young lady.

‘It is your moment now.’

As if comprehending his silent cue, the young lady gave a imperceptible nod.

“……Sir Altex.”

The young woman, Bellrose, softly called out to her devoted protector.

“Understood, Your Highness. Right this way.”

Altex, who had drawn near without making a sound, took his position beside Bellrose. Channeling his ether, he shouted at the top of his lungs for the entire area to hear.

“Make way, everyone—! Her Highness the Third Princess is passing through!”

The gathered crowd split apart amidst a flurry of whispers.

Through the newly formed pathway, Bellrose moved ahead.

Altex tracked her steps silently.

One pace, then another.

As the Third Princess arrived at the base of the stage, Altex looked up toward her and pondered.

A vision such as this…

Sometime in the future, within a different realm. Not at the Sage’s Tower, but before the most exalted throne on the entire continent.

The Third Princess standing beneath the brilliant sunshine appeared that magnificent.

……Sufficient to inspire a warrior’s dream.