Chapter 120: His Race Against the Clock

Raziel had exactly ninety-six hours before Elector Mordecai arrived at St. Celeste with his own Eye of Judgment.

The Elector commanded the entire Inquisition and definitely packed several perception crystals in his luggage.

Raziel stole one crystal from Marius and knew the Elector would use another one to scan the tournament participants.

“Shit,” Raziel muttered in the dark.

He locked the East Basement workshop door and skipped every mandatory theology class to train eighteen hours a day.

He stood in front of the heavy stone slates with Zorya because he needed to learn genuine standard runes.

He had to use pure blue mana and keep the geometric lines completely free of gold and black veins or biological eyes.

“Force the energy through the upper circuits of your arms,”

Zorya instructed and tapped his shoulder with her wooden ruler.

“Keep the mana away from your core.”

Raziel pushed the neutral mana up to his shoulders.

He dipped his quill into the standard blue ink and drew the geometric symbol for Barrier on the parchment.

The blue ink glowed and stabilized on the paper.

Raziel let out a long breath and dropped the quill on the desk.

His hands shook from the extreme physical strain of suppressing his own corrupted core.

His muscles cramped and a sharp physical pain stabbed behind his eyes.

“Good,” Zorya said and inspected the paper closely. “Do it fifty more times.”

Raziel picked up the quill and started drawing again because his Paragon class accelerated his muscle memory and processed the geometric logic.

The physical repetition caused severe headaches and nosebleeds.

He wiped the dark blood on his sleeve and kept drawing the symbols on the parchment without stopping.

[SKILL ACQUIRED: STANDARD RUNIC INSCRIPTION (LVL 1)]

[EMPATHY LEVEL: 78% -> 77%]

[EMPATHY LEVEL: 77% -> 76%]

[EMPATHY LEVEL: 76% -> 75%]

Raziel felt the emotional drop.

The deep exhaustion remained in his muscles and his mind grew colder with every lost percentage point.

He looked at Zorya grinding glowing minerals at the next table and felt no gratitude for her constant help.

He just registered her presence as a useful tool for his survival.

He forced his mouth to say the words to maintain their alliance. “Thank you”

Zorya nodded and kept grinding the minerals.

***

Lucian slammed a piece of rolled parchment onto Raziel’s desk on the evening of the third day.

BAM!

“Phase Two details,” Lucian said and pulled up a wooden chair to sit down.

“I bribed a scribe in the administrative wing with a silver coin to get the official list early.”

Raziel stopped drawing his practice runes and looked at the paper.

“The Application Test requires teams,” Lucian explained and pointed at the text with his finger.

“They divide the novices into groups of three and send them into the lower levels of the academy to solve practical problems. Marius assigns the teams himself.”

Raziel scanned the list and found his name near the bottom of the page.

Team VII: Raziel, Gideon, Oswyn.

Raziel memorized the names and leaned back in his chair.

“Gideon and Oswyn,” Lucian said and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Marius assigned you full-time spies.”

“Gideon hates me because I humiliated him in combat training in front of Jericho and i think Oswyn is a third-year Orator.”

“Oswyn is a fanatic,” Lucian corrected him.

“I heard that he possesses the Gift of Amplified Prayer and screams holy verses to disorient enemies and break their concentration. He also reports every single rumor in the dormitories.”

Raziel looked at the parchment again.

Gideon provided physical force and zero tactical intelligence.

Oswyn provided active surveillance and constant loud noise.

They would try to fail the test on purpose to make Raziel fail the tournament and lose his protection.

“What are you going to do?” Lucian asked. “Just tell me you have a solid plan to pass the evaluation.”

“I will pass,” Raziel said and rolled up the parchment to toss it back onto the table.

“Where did Marius assign you?”

“Team Four,” Lucian replied. “With Lara and some random second-year kid. We will manage the test fine.”

A sharp knock on the workshop door interrupted their conversation.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Raziel stood up and walked over to the heavy iron door.

A figure stood in the dark corridor wearing a black cloak that hid their entire body.

Angelina.

Raziel tightened his grip on the door handle and prepared to slam it shut.

“I wouldn’t do that, novice,” Angelina whispered and stepped closer to the gap.

Her voice lacked any trace of Sister Elena’s fake warmth.

“Unless you want Elector Mordecai to know exactly who broke into the director’s safe.”

Raziel stopped pushing the door.

He opened it wider and let her step inside the workshop.

Lucian stood up and grabbed the hilt of his hidden dagger.

Angelina pulled her hood back.

Her face still looked like Sister Elena, but the skin around her eyes was bruised and purple from the massive attack Lara had inflicted on her at St. Sophia.

She glared at Lucian and ignored the dagger.

“Put that toy away, little noble,” Angelina hissed.

“I am officially dead according to your forged report. If I scream right now the guards will find a dead cultist in a locked room with two heretics. You will burn before dawn.”

Lucian gripped the dagger tighter but he didn’t draw it.

“What do you want?” Raziel asked and blocked the doorway with his body.

“I came to collect my debt,” Angelina said and turned her bruised eyes back to Raziel.

“I kept your little theft a complete secret from the Exarchs. Now I need a favor.”

She looked directly past Raziel and locked eyes with Lucian.

“I need you to visit the infirmary tonight,” Angelina ordered.

Lucian stepped closer and kept his hand on his weapon. “Why?”

“The surviving Sisters from the sanatorium brought several medical supplies back to St. Celeste before the fire consumed everything,” Angelina explained.

“They locked a specific glass vial inside the main medicine cabinet, It contains a thick silver liquid. Mother Celestine kept it in her private office and I need it.”

“You want me to steal it,” Lucian stated.

“I want you to retrieve it and leave it under the loose stone behind the western gargoyle before midnight,” Angelina stepped right up to Lucian.

“Do that and your secret dies with me. Fail to deliver it and I will personally hand the Elector the exact magical signature you used to break the blood seal.”

Angelina pulled her hood back over her bruised face and turned around.

Lucian looked at Raziel and let go of his dagger to wipe his sweaty palms.

“She trapped us,” Lucian whispered. “If she talks to the new Elector about the safe the Inquisition will execute us publicly.”

Raziel closed the iron door and locked the bolt again.

He thought about the silver liquid and the ancient runes.

Angelina probably wanted that liquid for a specific ritual and she needed it to advance the Cult’s hidden agenda inside the academy right under the Exarchs’ noses.

“Do it,”

Lucian blinked. “You want me to hand over a powerful artifact to a cultist?”

“I want you to steal the vial tonight so she keeps her mouth shut,” Raziel clarified and walked back to the wooden table.

“But before you put it under that gargoyle you will find out exactly what is inside it.”

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