Chapter 86: Tragedy (2)

The looks persisted for a little while before the professor regained the students’ attention. “As you read, Newhold was wiped out earlier this week by a strange phenomenon. It is believed that this was the same phenomenon that destroyed the towns of Velmara and Claywall three years ago.”

His tone was serious, but those who were perceptive enough would notice the faint trembling beneath it.

However, Michael was not one of those people—at least not right now. The shock of finding out another town had experienced the same thing as his and Rudy’s home’s was too much.

“What happened? How does a whole town die overnight?” Mason asked, his expression grim. It wasn’t just him, everyone but the fourth-years seemed confused—it was clear they weren’t aware of the first time this occurred.

“We don’t know, nor is there any evidence to suggest that there was any foul play involved,” Professor Stark replied slowly, his gaze moving to Magnus. “The royal family chose to keep the last one under wraps—but this time they cannot keep it quiet. Newhold is too far inland to be ignored.”

Magnus wore an impassive expression, not reacting to the obvious slight towards his family.

“So, is this why you’ve attended the student council meeting professor?” he asked, lacking the respect a student might have for a professor, “to place the blame on the royal family for our inaction?”

The atmosphere turned tense, creating an uncomfortable silence within the room.

“There was no such intention, Magnus.” The professor replied, seemingly oblivious to the tension. “The reason why I’m here is to pass on this information to the class representatives—as to how you’ll deal with notifying the student body, the task is completely up to you.”

He paused, his sharp gaze turning to the rest of students, “For now, the academy will suspend all its activities outside of the castle. Until the royal family has finished their investigation, no students will be allowed to leave the academy grounds under any circumstance. If there are any… troublesome students, be sure to use your emblem to notify the nearest professor.”

As he finished his words, he took one last glance at the group, “My advice… be as vague as possible when explaining the situation. Tell them more information will be released once the investigation has concluded.”

With that, he turned and left the room, closing the door silently.

The room was quiet, the students each wearing similar expressions as the news finally settled in. Michael’s thoughts were racing, not knowing what to make of this new situation—particularly since no one seemed to know what had caused the phenomenon.

As his mind worked, he was forced to relive those moments back when he was driven from the Aurelius manor while his mother fought off the four assailants—buying him time.

He grit his teeth, clenching his fists until his nails dug into his palms as the scenes flashed by in his mind.

Perhaps it was because he’d buried the memories deep within—or because he’d been distracted—Michael had not asked enough questions.

Were the attackers who killed his mother involved in the drying up of the mana spring, and the killing of the townsfolk? Or was there appearance a coincidence?

Was their target really his mother, Alice Aurelius? Or was she just an unfortunate bystander?

It didn’t make sense.

If the robed assailants had been behind the tragedy in Velmara—and if their goal had been to kill his mother—then why hadn’t they simply let her die in the manor? Why bother confronting her at all?

Unless… their hand was forced.

Michael’s thoughts turned to Lord Aurelius’s final command: for the steward, Rohan, to flee with them. Had that act triggered the assault? Was his mother simply caught in the middle of a larger objective?

The more he thought about it, the more certain he became—he was missing something vital.

A single piece… one key insight that could crack open the truth.

If he could only discern the intent behind the robed attackers that night… maybe then he could begin to uncover their identity. And from there, take one step closer to his revenge.

His mind churned restlessly with half-formed theories—until Magnus’s voice cut through the fog.

Gone was the prince’s usual lazy drawl. His tone now held weight. Authority.

“You are all violet emblem holders—essentially the cream of the crop,” he began, his gaze sweeping across those seated at the round table. “Your talents, your potential—they’re what the royal family is counting on for the future.”

His expression was serious. No trace of jest remained.

“And for that reason,” he continued, “I’ll share with you the results of an investigation that’s been ongoing since the first incident—three years ago.”

The room stilled.

No one spoke. No one interrupted.

Every student leaned in slightly, as if collectively holding their breath.

Even Michael found himself frozen, his eyes fixed on the blond royal. This is it. The piece I’ve been missing…

“The mana spring collapses weren’t natural,” Magnus said. “They were intentional.”

Gasps rippled around the room.

Shock painted every face. The mere suggestion was heretical.

To tamper with the world’s ley lines and mana flow was an abomination—banned by international decree since the end of the Great War. It was the one rule every nation, mage tower, and kingdom abided by without exception.

“The royal family still hasn’t identified the culprit,” Magnus continued, “but we discovered disturbing patterns among the townsfolk.”

He paused, letting the weight of his next words settle before delivering them.

“Every single victim had their inner palace shattered—their souls either destroyed or extracted. We don’t know how. We don’t know why. But we know something, or someone, did it.”

His words fell like stones in a silent pond—each one deepening the stillness that followed.

Rose, usually composed, whispered in disbelief, “Who could possibly do such a thing?”

A few others murmured in agreement, shaking their heads. The silence that followed was suffocating.

But Michael didn’t join them.

His brows had drawn together into a deep frown.

He remembered.

The pressure slamming into his inner palace. The invasive force clawing to reach his soul.

He had no name for the entity that attacked him back then, but he knew—he knew—it hadn’t been natural. It had nearly torn through his defenses.

Only by instinct—and perhaps luck—had he managed to seal his palace just in time.

Hearing Magnus’s words now only confirmed what he had suspected all along.

He’d stared death in the face and somehow survived.

How close had he truly been to joining the others in Velmara?

Had he faltered even slightly, his soul would’ve been ripped from his body like all the rest.

His fists clenched beneath the table.

“I think the better question is,” Michael said at last, his voice low but clear, “why would someone do it?”

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