Chapter 20
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
A heavy silence loomed inside My office, thick as fog, broken only by the steady ticking of the wall-mounted arcane clock—a subtle but relentless reminder that time was moving forward, whether the two girls liked it or not.
Sunlight filtered through the narrow, slatted windows, casting broken golden beams across the dark wood floor.
Dust motes danced in those slivers of light, suspended like the tension choking the air.
I sat at the center of the room, behind my desk.
Back straight.
Expression unreadable.
Hands steepled beneath my chin.
Before me, the two girls stood as if trialed by divine judgment—stiff, silent, and smothered under my gaze.
To my left was Eleanor Vireon.
Daughter of Count Vireon.
Her arms were crossed tightly under her chest, her posture proud, chin angled high enough to suggest superiority but just low enough to reveal she was guarding herself.
Her sapphire earrings caught the sunlight as she tilted her head slightly, lips pressed in a thin, aristocratic line.
Cold defiance oozed from her like perfume.
To my right, Ava Heart was a coiled storm.
Her fists trembled at her sides, knuckles white.
Her Golden hair clung to her temple with sweat.
Eyes burning—not with shame, but with fury and restrained helplessness.
Neither girl had said a word since entering.
I let the silence stretch longer.
It was a teacher's weapon, and I knew how to wield it well.
Finally, I broke it.
My voice was calm.
Measured.
A winter hush that stole the heat from the room.
"Explain."
Eleanor arched a brow, slow and deliberate. "Explain what, exactly?"
I said nothing.
I just stared.
The temperature seemed to drop a degree with each passing second.
Ava blinked, then inhaled sharply.
"She—she provoked me," she said, voice shaking with poorly buried emotion.
"She insulted my father. Said he was as good as dead… just because he's in a coma. You heard what she said. On the field." pointing at Mike who stood at the door.
"And you responded," I replied evenly, "with a spell meant to kill."
My tone never rose.
That made it worse.
"Provocation does not excuse assault. You escalated it willingly."
Ava's breath hitched.
Her voice cracked.
"She wanted it to escalate!" she snapped. "She baited me!"
"You're lying," Eleanor interjected.
"I never said anything false. I simply stated the facts. If Ava cannot handle the truth, perhaps she's too fragile for this academy."
Mike exhaled.
Eleanor continued, her lips curving upward into a sneer. "Besides, I'm from a Count household. I will not be treated the same as a commoner who flings spells without discipline. There are expectations for someone like me. My family—"
"Your family means nothing in this room."
My voice dropped into a glacial whisper.
And the room froze with it.
Eleanor's mouth hung open for a second.
I stood, slowly.
My Blue coat whispered as it brushed against the polished floor.
I walked to the cabinet beside the desk.
The sound of the drawer sliding open echoed like a sword being drawn.
From inside, I pulled out two parchment scrolls.
The wax was already cracked—stamped with the instructor's sigil in deep violet ink.
I laid them neatly on the desk.
"These," I said, tapping each one with two fingers, "are expulsion orders. Signed. Stamped. Witnessed."
Mike gave a curt nod. "I saw everything."
Ava's breath caught.
Her eyes widened.
The blood drained from her face as her heart plunged into her stomach.
Eleanor took a step forward, her composure faltering. "You… You're bluffing."
I tilted my head.
Just slightly.
"Am I?" I asked.
I let the question linger in the air like poison.
"You attacked each other with lethal intent on academy grounds. During class. Surrounded by uninvolved students. I could expel both of you, today, and the Academy would back my decision without hesitation."
I turned my gaze to Eleanor.
"Your family's influence might buy you a short delay—but not immunity. Not when a Duke's family is involved."
There it was.
Eleanor flinched.
Ava blinked.
Eleanor tried to scoff.
Tried to hold her mask.
"You… won't," she muttered. But the arrogance was cracking. There was doubt now. A sliver of it.
"The Silvery family," I said softly. "One of the three founding pillars of the Empire. If I say your family is overstepping…"
I leaned in slightly, eyes glowing faintly with arcane menace.
"…the Emperor himself won't say a word."
It was a lie.
Of course it was.
A well-dressed, sharp-edged lie.
The Silvery family was powerful.
But even they wouldn't cross another noble house without scrutiny.
Still, Eleanor swallowed Hard.
Her arms dropped from her chest.
Ava's eyes flicked between us.
The beginnings of a satisfied smirk ghosted across her lips—finally, justice.
And then it disappeared.
Because reality settled in just as quickly.
She wasn't walking away clean either.
Her expression darkened.
She didn't regret attacking Eleanor—but she did regret what would come after.
Especially the talk with her mother.
I let the silence stew again before I spoke—calmly, coolly.
"Now…"
I leaned forward.
My voice cut through the air like a razor.
"You two are about to be expelled. Unless you give me a reason not to sign these papers and have them delivered."
Ava blinked.
Her lips parted, confusion slipping through her mask of fury.
"You… You don't want to expel us?"
"I want the truth," I said evenly. "The whole truth."
For a moment, neither girl moved.
The tension was suffocating.
Then, slowly, Eleanor exhaled.
Her gaze lowered—not out of shame, but calculation.
After a beat, she looked away and muttered:
"…Fine."
I raised a brow.
"I didn't start it because of some random insult," she said, her tone tinged with bitterness. "I wanted Ava gone."
Ava's eyes widened.
"I see it as unfit," Eleanor continued, her voice rising with barely concealed venom, "that someone of her background—her origin—has talent equal to mine."
Ava flinched.
"I thought if I provoked her, she'd lash out. And when she did, I'd use my family name to shield myself. She'd be sent home. Problem solved."
Ava's voice was a whisper, brittle and trembling.
"So it was all… a setup."
Eleanor scoffed. "I used my name to play the game. So what? That's how nobles survive. That's how the system works."
I leaned back slowly, folding my arms across my chest.
My expression remained neutral—but my gaze was sharp.
"And what," I asked quietly, "has it earned you?"
Neither girl answered.
I tapped the expulsion scrolls again—once, twice.
"You're both on the edge. I could tear these up… or I could send them through the Academy's channels by tonight."
The ticking of the arcane clock returned to prominence.
Every second felt like a drumbeat.
I looked at them both.
Let the weight of their futures hang over their heads.
Then I asked:
"What do either of you have to offer me… to make me not send these?"
Ava looked stunned.
Eleanor's mouth opened, then closed.
Thought swirled in her eyes, but her pride held her tongue.
I stayed silent.
That was enough.
Mike began moving toward the desk, reaching for the scrolls.
But before he could touch them, Eleanor finally broke.
Her voice trembled with restrained panic.
"…What do you want, Professor?"
I smiled.
Not cruelly.
Not warmly.
Just… knowingly.
"Well… good question. The truth is—you don't have anything I need right now. So let's make it simple."
With a flick of my fingers, twin rings of glowing mana circled above the desk before unraveling into two parchment contracts, shimmering with runic script.
I gestured to them as they settled between the girls.
"These are binding mana contracts. Voluntary, but irreversible once signed."
I met both their gazes.
"The agreement is simple: one day, in the future, I may ask something of you. A favor. A task. An object. I won't ask for anything that would harm you or your family directly. But when that day comes… you won't be able to refuse."
Their eyes locked onto mine.
The glow of my Mana Eyes intensified—soft blue, but with threads of silver, violet, and emerald weaving beneath the surface.
"What do you think?" I asked.
Eleanor reached first.
Not out of trust.
But strategy.
She picked up the contract, scanning it with narrowed eyes.
No loopholes.
No fine print curses.
No hidden traps.
The terms were exactly as I said—dangerously simple.
After a long pause, she signed it.
The parchment ignited in blue flame, then crumbled into ash that vanished midair.
I nodded.
"You may go."
She stood, her movements refined but slower than before.
Before leaving, she looked back at me, the tiniest flicker of curiosity behind her cold eyes.
She was sharp—sharper than most students in this place.
She was already trying to understand me.
'He wants to tie down those with potential… before they gain real power. Cunning bastard. He made me lower my guard with fear.' That thought flickered through her gaze as she turned and walked out.
Ava hesitated longer.
She stared at the parchment.
But she also knew the alternative: disgrace, expulsion, and a life spent clawing for redemption no one would offer.
Quietly, she picked up the contract.
Read it.
Then signed.
The parchment burst into Blue fire and vanished.
Her gaze lingered on mine—not with respect.
With resentment.
With gratitude.
With conflict.
Because any other professor would've thrown her away like trash.
But I hadn't.
And that unsettled her more than anything.
She stood.
Turned to leave.
But I spoke first.
"Ava."
She paused in the doorway.
"You're now my student. And I've already invested in your scholarship here. Don't disappoint me."
I stood again, tone calm but weighty.
"That contract will protect you—from other nobles trying to pull this again. But don't expect them to stop. They'll just change tactics."
Ava looked over her shoulder.
Her expression softened for a single heartbeat—then steeled once more.
In a quiet, uncertain tone, she muttered:
"…I didn't ask for your help."
And without another word, she left.