2026-05-22 18:27:34
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Theon’s shoulders were quivering uncontrollably, as if he’d just encountered something terrifying. Archmage Mavis’s gaze sharpened. He would have leapt to attack Solvyn, but he wasn’t in the mood to act generous. “This is truly unfair. He only said a few things and suffered a mental attack.” “The treasury was originally his anyway.” “What do you expect? The powerful always crush the weaker ones underfoot. Especially for Theon, who was said not to have a talent for cultivation. They don’t need to fear him coming to retaliate after he gets powerful. Of course they’ll be reckless.” “Venerable, he’s just a child,” Archmage Nathan snapped, brows drawn together with distaste. “He’s also your master’s son. Everything you have today was given by Lord Dravorn. How can you try to harm his only son right before all of us?” “That’s right. Even if Theon asking for the treasury back goes against yours and the academy’s interests, there are better ways to settle things. Not this.” “He
CHAPTER TWELVE
For two whole minutes no one spoke, shock rippling through them. Memory searching was excruciating, and seventy percent of the time something went wrong, leaving the victim insane. The risk was even higher for Kane, who had lost his cultivation. What kind of hatred could fester in his heart to make him willingly choose such a treacherous path? Archmage Mavis’s breathing became uneven. He turned to Jareth and struck him sharply. A loud scream tore through the air as Jareth flew back, colliding with a pillar. Mavis’s heart ached, but there was no other option. Letting Solvyn punish Jareth using academy law meant he would end up like Kane. Rage simmered beneath his composed exterior, his teeth grinding together. Jareth shook like a leaf and looked up. Blood streaked down the corner of his lips, staining his teeth. His heart pounded erratically, his bladder suddenly feeling too full. Mavis approached him slowly, his steps heavy but steady. Jareth shook his head, drawing back,
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jareth’s hand trembled, dread coiling like a serpent around the pit of his stomach. Kane was still sprawled on the ground, groaning, tears of raw agony carving tracks down his face. His fists were clenched so tightly the knuckles had gone white, and sweat had soaked every thread of his robes. Theon’s lips curved by a fraction as he watched Solvyn, who seemed to be suffering even more than Kane. Solvyn looked like a volcano on the verge of eruption, his eyes murderous and blazing. One of the professors aligned with Solvyn’s camp—one who knew the truth about Kane’s ancestry—hissed, eyes glowering. Professor Smyth turned to Solvyn. “Venerable, if you punished Kane, shouldn’t you also punish the rest? The memory crystal was clear. Why is Kane the only one losing his cultivation? Jareth was among the ringleaders too.” Archmage Mavis’s eyes flashed dangerously, his staff groaning under the crushing weight of his grip. Jareth’s eyes went wide, his face bleaching to a ghastly white.
CHAPTER TEN
The system wouldn’t stop ringing. Hatred points poured in every second, a relentless cascade feeding the fire in his veins. ‘Ding! Hatred points increasing to six thousand!’ Ding! Ding! Ding! Theon inhaled, letting the surge of power scorch through him like liquid flame. It was intoxicating, addictive. He could feel himself falling in love with it. Yet his face remained a mask of pain and frailty, blood drying at the corner of his lips, his shoulders trembling with feigned exhaustion. Solvyn’s eyes burned with hate and bloodlust. Around him, the crowd had fractured into murmurs. Whispers of disapproval, of division and fear. Kane had gone pale as parchment, his knees trembling beneath him. Jerath’s arrogance had evaporated, confidence dissolving like smoke in a gale. Archmage Mavis’s grip on his staff tightened until the wood creaked, but his heart was in far worse shape. It felt as though a titan’s foot pressed against his chest, crushing him slowly, each breath a rag
CHAPTER NINE
“No!” Theon’s answer made Mavis’s face freeze, knuckles going still on the parchment, victory turning to ash in his mouth. Theon almost laughed. He wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what Mavis wanted to do. He wasn’t anyone’s fool or weapon. Only he, Theon, deserved to wield and manipulate others. The rest weren’t worthy. Solvyn froze, confused. Not understanding what Theon was playing at. One moment, he was accusing him vehemently, leaving him to quickly come up with countermeasures. The next, he was saying no. What game was this? “If the Celestial Dean wanted to kill me, he could have just done it directly. Why send someone else?” Theon inhaled deeply, half disappointed, half aggrieved, the perfect portrait of a wronged son. He pointed at Kane, finger steady as fate. “It was him. I think he stole the items from the dean’s peak and used it to convince his friends to help him murder me. Kane never liked me. Perhaps he knew that the rest wouldn’t agree, so he decided to fake an or
CHAPTER EIGHT
No one said anything for two whole minutes. Shock rendered them speechless, the Dark Forest holding its breath. Something flickered in Mavis’s gaze. He couldn’t determine if Theon was brave or stupid. Either way, he was determined to make the best use of this opportunity. “Child, are you sure of this? This is a grave offense for which you’ve accused His Excellency.” Theon nodded, eyes wet with tears he fought hard to squeeze out. “I know saying this would put me in more danger. But if I keep silent, what if someone else makes another attempt tonight? I couldn’t believe it at first, till I saw…” He let his words trail off, letting others complete the rest in their minds, letting horror do the work. “Slander!” Solvyn roared, raising his hand with aegis gathered, an angry swat of celestial force going straight at Theon. Theon let out an exaggerated yelp as he was sent flying, his body crashing into a stone statue of General Stein. He twitched once, and lay on the ground, playing
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