The corridors of the academy were quieter than usual that evening. Most students had already left for their dormitories, with only a few scattered voices echoing through the halls. The silence was not peaceful, but rather held a certain tension, the calm before a storm. Arios walked alone, his footsteps steady, though his mind was not at ease. He had been summoned—invited, rather—by Instructor Garron to his office. The wording of the invitation had been casual, almost too casual, a flimsy veneer over an obvious ruse.

It was the kind of invitation that one accepts only if they are ready to face a lion in its den. But Arios understood that there was nothing casual about this meeting, not for a moment. He had not survived his past by ignoring his gut instincts, and every fiber of his being was screaming that this was a confrontation, not a discussion.

The last week had already made Garron stand out in ways that Arios could not ignore. The rumors, the missing years in his resume, the vague report he had submitted against Amelia—all of it tied him closer to the mess surrounding her than anyone else. It was too convenient, too neat. Arios knew it was a trap, or at least a test of his resolve and knowledge. It was a calculated move designed to gauge his intentions and, if possible, deter him. But he also knew he couldn't ignore it. To refuse would be to show weakness, to confirm Garron's suspicions that Arios was indeed a threat. And if he was a threat, they would simply find another, more permanent way to deal with him. He had to go, to face the danger head-on.

When he arrived at the instructor's office, the wooden door loomed larger than usual. It was a simple, unassuming door, yet it felt like a gateway to something far more complex and dangerous. A simple plaque reading "Instructor Garron" was fixed near the top, worn from years of touch. Arios lifted his hand and knocked firmly three times, the sound a sharp echo in the quiet hall. It was a statement, a declaration that he was here, and he was not afraid.

A voice came from inside. "Enter." The single word was a command, not an invitation.

Arios turned the knob and stepped into the room, his eyes scanning every detail, every shadow, every potential hiding place.

The office was modestly furnished. A large oak desk dominated the center, covered with stacks of books, rolled parchment, and a half-empty glass of wine. The books were old, their spines cracked and faded, a testament to years of study. The rolled parchment looked like old maps or forgotten reports. The walls were lined with shelves holding tomes of magic theory and academy reports. The only source of light came from a dim lamp on the desk and a single enchanted orb fixed to the wall, giving the room a soft, uneven glow that cast long, dancing shadows on the walls. The air was heavy with the scent of old paper and dust, and a faint, sweet smell of the wine.

Garron sat behind the desk, leaning back in his chair. He was not in his teaching robe but a plain shirt with sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms, which were surprisingly muscled. He looked tired, the lines around his eyes and mouth more pronounced than Arios had ever noticed, though his eyes were sharp, following Arios from the moment he entered. Garron looked like a man who had not slept well in a long time.

"You came." Garron's lips twitched into something that might have been a smile, but lacked any warmth. "Good. Sit." His voice was a low rumble, filled with a subtle undercurrent of something Arios couldn't quite place. Relief? Surprise? Or just the satisfaction of a trap well-laid?

Arios closed the door behind him and moved to the chair opposite the desk. He sat without speaking, his posture calm, his expression unreadable. He had learned long ago that in a battle of wills, silence was a potent weapon. He would not give Garron anything to work with, no hint of nervousness or fear.

For a moment, neither spoke. The silence was thick, pregnant with unspoken accusations and veiled threats. Garron swirled the wine in his glass, the ruby liquid catching the dim light. He watched Arios, a silent observation, as if he were trying to read the boy's mind. Then, finally, the instructor set it down with a soft click and leaned forward.

"I've been hearing things," Garron began, his voice a low, confidential tone. "About you. About your… involvement with certain matters. It seems you've taken a rather keen interest in things that don't concern you." He spoke as if this were a simple, friendly chat, but the tension in the air said otherwise.

Arios met his gaze evenly. "If you're talking about Amelia, then yes. It concerns me." His voice was calm and steady, betraying none of the turmoil within. He was not here to be intimidated.

Garron chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. It was a dry, hollow sound. "Direct. I like that. But let me give you some advice, boy. There are games being played in this academy. Games between nobles, between houses, between the council and the administration. They are old games, with old rules, and the stakes are far higher than you can imagine. Do you really think a first-year student like you should be sticking his nose into all that? You are a fledgling. They are lions."

Arios didn't answer immediately. He let Garron's words settle, letting the subtle intimidation sink in. He then replied evenly, his voice just as steady as before. "If those games are being used to destroy someone who doesn't deserve it, then yes. I'll involve myself. Someone has to. And it seems no one else is brave enough."

The instructor's smile widened, though his eyes hardened into cold chips of stone. "Brave. Or foolish. Sometimes the line is thin, Arios. Sometimes, a hero's bravery is just a fool's naivety waiting for a harsh lesson." He leaned back again, tapping his fingers against the desk in a slow, deliberate rhythm. "Tell me something, Arios. Do you trust Amelia?"

"Yes."

"That quickly?" Garron raised an eyebrow in feigned surprise. "No hesitation? No thought that perhaps the rumors are founded in truth? That perhaps she is not who she seems?"

"There's no need to hesitate," Arios said. "I know her better than the rumors suggest. She hasn't done what they accuse her of. A simple conversation was enough to see that. You should try it sometime."

For a moment, Garron said nothing. He studied Arios in silence, as though measuring his conviction, his sincerity. He was trying to find a crack in the armor, a sign of doubt. But there was none. Then he laughed under his breath, a low, rumbling sound. "Interesting. Very interesting. Your loyalty is admirable, if misplaced."

The air in the office grew heavier. Arios noticed it—not mana, not magic, but pressure. The kind of pressure that came from someone who had authority and was used to bending others beneath it. Garron was trying to intimidate him, to make him squirm, but Arios kept his expression steady. He had felt this kind of pressure before, from much more dangerous people.

"Tell me," Garron said at last, his voice lower, slower, like a cat toying with a mouse. "What exactly do you know about Amelia? Do you know her history? Do you know what she's capable of? Do you know why so many are so eager to see her gone? Do you even know who her enemies truly are?"

Arios shook his head slightly. "I don't need to know every detail. What I do know is enough. And I know she's innocent of this."

"Innocent?" Garron repeated, leaning forward again. His eyes sharpened, glinting in the dim light. "You're very sure of that. But innocence is a fragile thing, Arios. It can be broken easily. And sometimes, the truth doesn't matter at all. Sometimes, what matters is who speaks the loudest. And right now, the loudest voices are not on her side."

"Then I'll speak louder," Arios said calmly.

That made Garron pause. He studied Arios again, this time with something like genuine curiosity. "You're bold. Bold enough to be dangerous. Do you even know the kind of people you are challenging?"

Another silence stretched between them. Garron picked up his glass of wine, took a slow sip, and then set it down again with a heavy thud.

"Do you know what I think, Arios?" he asked quietly. "I think you're clever enough to see the strings being pulled, but not clever enough to know where they all lead. You're caught in the middle of a web, and you don't even realize the spider is already watching you." He let the words hang in the air, a silent warning.

Arios leaned back slightly in his chair, his voice steady. "Then maybe the spider should be careful. Sometimes, prey bites back. And sometimes, the prey is a lot bigger than the spider anticipated."

Garron laughed again, louder this time, the sound a mix of amusement and genuine surprise. "Good. Very good. You've got spirit." He leaned forward suddenly, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. "But spirit alone won't save you. Or Amelia. The people you are up against are not bound by the rules of this academy. They do not fight fair."

Arios didn't reply. His eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression stayed calm. He was not going to give Garron the satisfaction of a reaction.

Garron tapped the desk again with his fingers, each tap deliberate. "Tell me, Arios. Why are you so invested in her? She's a staff member. You're a student. What could possibly tie you to her so closely? There must be more to this than simple loyalty."

Arios hesitated this time. He couldn't tell Garron the truth—not about the system, not about the bond, not about the strange connection that had formed between them. So he answered simply, the lie a necessary shield. "She believed in me. When others didn't. When I first came here, she was the only one who saw beyond the rumors. That's enough."

The instructor's expression shifted slightly, though Arios couldn't read it. For a moment, Garron looked thoughtful, almost sad. Then he leaned back again, chuckling softly.

"You're either very naïve," Garron said, "or very dangerous. I can't quite tell which yet. I suppose time will tell."

Arios didn't respond.

The silence stretched again. The lamp on the desk flickered faintly, the enchanted orb on the wall buzzing softly. Outside, the muffled sound of distant footsteps echoed once before fading. The room felt like a pressure cooker, the tension building with every passing second.

Finally, Garron spoke again, his voice now taking on a more serious, official tone. "Let me make you an offer, Arios. Stop meddling. Stop digging where you don't belong. Leave Amelia's case to those who know how these things work. Focus on your training, your studies, your future. If you do, I'll forget this conversation ever happened. If you don't…" He let the words hang in the air, a silent, but very real, threat.

Arios tilted his head slightly. "Is that a threat?"

"Take it however you like," Garron said, smiling faintly. "But remember, a man's reputation is a valuable thing, and sometimes, it can be tarnished by association. Think about what a certain student's involvement in a case like this could do to his future."

Arios leaned forward for the first time, meeting Garron's gaze directly. His voice was calm, but his words were firm, each one a hammer blow. "I don't need your permission to decide what matters to me. And I don't need your warning to know that people like you want me to stay quiet. But I won't. You can threaten me all you want, but it won't change anything."

The instructor's smile didn't fade, but his eyes darkened, the coldness returning in full force. He studied Arios for a long moment, then finally leaned back and waved his hand dismissively.

"Fine," Garron said. "Do as you please. Just remember—every action has consequences. And some consequences are more… severe than others."

Arios stood. He didn't bow, didn't nod, didn't say another word. He turned, walked to the door, and opened it. The cold air from the hallway drifted in, a welcome relief from the oppressive heat of the office.

As he stepped out, Garron's voice followed him, calm but carrying weight.

"You're braver than most, Arios. But bravery without caution leads only to graves. Remember that."

Arios closed the door behind him without responding.

The corridor was empty again. He stood there for a moment, his hand still on the knob, his thoughts racing. Garron had confirmed more than he intended. The missing years, the pressure, the vague threats—it all lined up. Arios didn't have proof yet, but he had direction. Garron was involved, and he was afraid.

He let out a slow breath and started walking back toward his dorm. Tonight had not been a victory, but it had been progress. He now knew for certain that Garron was involved. And he now knew that Garron saw him as a threat.

The game was no longer just about Amelia. It was about Arios, too.

And he was ready.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.