The next day, the entire academy was in uproar.
Whispers and rumours flooded the corridors of the academy. The air crackled with unease as the news mixed with rumours of a student being badly injured flew around the academy.
The news had spread like wildfire. Details were scarce, and in the absence of facts, fear filled the gaps. There was no shortage of students who were fear mongering in such circumstances and were adding their own spice in the mix.
Some whispered it was a fight between students that had gone too far. Others spoke of an outsider infiltrating the academy, about an unseen menace lurking in the shadows.
Speculations of a serial attacker or even an assassination attempt began to swirl, each retelling twisting the tale further.
No official statement had been released. The tension was palpable, the students were in panic as they discussed the news in clusters, eyes darting, voices hushed.
And all the while, the clock ticked toward the start of the first class of the day.
(Sometime before the first class)
More than a dozen individuals sat around a large, polished round table. They had gathered in a room on the top floor of the A Block of the academy.
Seated at the head was an old man, his hair and beard grey in colour because of the old age, his body lean to the point of frailty.
Yet despite his appearance, an undeniable aura of authority and immense strength radiated from him. This was Edward, the Principal of Nawarin Academy—one of the most powerful men in the entire city.
Around him sat the teachers and staff of the academy, each waiting in silence, knowing exactly why they had been summoned.
"I believe everyone here is well aware of the reason I have suddenly called for this meeting," the principal, Edward said as his eyes swept across the entire room. His voice was calm yet commanding.
"Before we proceed, I want the facts to be established clearly in front of all of you. No conjecture, no rumours. Quint, if you would."
A gaunt man stood following Edward's command. This was Quint, the Disciplinary Head of Nawarin Academy.
"Good morning," he greeted with a terse nod. "Allow me to present what we know."
His voice was steady as he continued.
"Early this morning, one of our staff members, responsible for cleaning, discovered a student sprawled unconscious and badly injured on the staircase leading to the fifth floor of Block D."
"The student in question is named Trux and he is currently in his second year."
"The student was immediately transported to the academy infirmary, and as we speak, he is being shifted to the city hospital."
"The victim when found had his face badly deformed. He has suffered two significant injuries. A blow to the head that fractured his skull near one of the ears. A large amount of blood loss seemed to have happened from this wound and thanks only to his mana that Trux survived the night."
"The second strike was to the jaw which shattered the jaw bones and most of the teeth. As said, his face was badly deformed and the flesh of on his face had been badly mangled," Quint continued.
"The attack was brutal, but from what we can infer, the intent does not appear to have been to kill," he said with a pause, "or perhaps the attacker believed the job was done after the two strikes or maybe he got frightened after seeing so much of blood and the mangled flesh on Trux's face."
He raised a hand, revealing a long, thick metal rod. Its surface was stained faintly with dried blood.
"This is the weapon used. It is a standard issue maintenance tool, commonly found across the academy grounds. There are dozens, if not hundreds, of these scattered around, which makes it impossible to trace the source directly."
He let the information sink in before continuing.
"Fortunately, the student Trux is out of immediate danger. However, due to the delay of a full night in treatment, full recovery will take at least a couple of weeks, if not longer."
He continued, "As for the attacker… that person displayed a certain level of intelligence. The weapon was chosen wisely. It is almost untraceable and ordinary."
"The person struck in an area of the academy that is rarely used, at a time when few would be around. No witnesses, no clues."
"I have conducted a preliminary investigation in whatever little time was available before this meeting," Quint informed. "And unfortunately, I have found no clue so far."
"Perhaps, I can find something after a more detailed investigation or maybe the attacker was too good."
Quint took back his seat and a grave silence followed his informative statement. Although, these were facts that almost everyone present in the room was already aware of, any other information or rumour had been clearly dismissed.
Edward leaned forward, his gaze dark and voice grave.
"This incident is something that should never have happened." His words dropped into the room cutting through the silence.
"It raises questions, not just about the safety of our students, but about our credibility as an institution. We have been caught negligent... and ignorant. And once the news spreads further, the parents will demand answers, answers that, as of now, we do not have."
He let that sink in, his eyes scanning the faces around the table.
"I assume," he continued, "that the weapon, sourced from within the academy, suggests the perpetrator is another student. But we cannot afford to be fully sure about it. Not yet."
A deep, weary sigh escaped his lips. He leaned back slightly, the lines on his face deepening.
"For now, I will tighten security around the academy. Patrols will be increased, both inside and outside the grounds. There will be no laxity in defence. If anyone so much as breathes wrong, I want to know about it."
He turned to Quint, his voice steeling with authority.
"Quint. I want the culprit. No matter what it takes, no matter how long it takes—you will find them. Conduct a thorough investigation. Turn over every stone. The attacker must have left traces. No one commits an act like this without making some mistake, especially if he is a student."
Quint nodded sharply, his lips pressed into a thin line. His image as disciplinary head too was on line.
Edward's gaze shifted, settling on a woman seated quietly at the table.
"Angelica," he said. "Assist Quint. I want you to lend your full support to the investigation."
Angelica inclined her head in silent acknowledgment. Just as the meeting seemed to be drawing to a close, she spoke up, her voice calm and measured.
"Headmaster," she began, her tone neutral, "a hypothetical: if we do find the culprit, and if the reason given for the attack is related to the 30% quota that Trux has been enforcing on the students, for his masters if I say so? What then?"
Her words hung in the air, sharp as a dagger.
"Do we turn a blind eye to the entire attack? Or to the reason behind the attack? Or do we turn a blind eye only to what Trux has been doing?"
The question hit like a spark. Edward's expression darkened, and his fist slammed onto the table with a crack.
"Angelica," he snapped, voice raised but eerily controlled, "you know very well that such measures are taken for reasons. Do not poke your nose into matters you do not have any relation with."
Angelica's face remained serene, untouched by Edward's outburst.
"I want the culprit," Edward repeated, his tone final. Without waiting for a response, he rose abruptly and left the room, his steps heavy against the polished floor.
For a long moment, silence lingered. Angelica remained seated, her eyes distant, as if lost in thought. Then, with a small shake of her head, only she knew the reason, she too stood, her face unreadable, and left the room.
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