Chapter 382: Imperial Military Invitation

“Guys!” he called. “You won’t believe what—”

He stopped.

Mid-step.

Damon saw Miss Leana looking at him like she was silently screaming.

Saw Daveon’s grin fighting for its life.

Saw Celeste’s eyes wide like moons.

Then he saw Anaya.

Standing stiff.

Between her?

And his father.

And his aunt.

Damon’s expression didn’t change.

But inside, every red flag his instincts had ever developed unfurled at once.

His mouth opened.

Paused.

Then slowly shut.

He lowered the bag of gold to the bench beside him like it might explode.

Then said, voice very level. “…You’ve met.”

“Indeed,” Lord Terrace said smoothly. “Your young lady just introduced herself.”

Damon nodded once. “Yep. She’s the one.”

He turned to Anaya.

“You good?”

“I’m fine,” she said quietly. “Are you?”

“We’ll find out.”

Lady Reyla smiled faintly. “You didn’t think we’d skip your trials, did you?”

“I thought you’d send a report request. Maybe an assistant.”

“That was the plan,” Terrace said calmly. “But then your name showed up in multiple reports that you’d be joining And I decided it’d be best if I came personally. Your aunt here tagged along too.”

Damon coughed.

“Good return, was it?” Reyla asked.

“The best,” Damon admitted without shame.

Terrace turned back to Anaya.

“You’ve known him how long?”

“Two years, my lord.”

“You’ve lasted. Impressive.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

He didn’t smile.

But he nodded.

And to everyone’s surprise… that was enough.

Leana exhaled silently.

Damon relaxed.

Reyla crossed her arms. “We’ll speak later, nephew. And you’ll tell us exactly how much you won.”

Damon winked. “I already wrote it down.”

Terrace turned to Leana.

“You’ve raised them well.”

“I try,” she said.

Then, as smoothly as they came, the nobles turned to leave — pausing only once when Terrace added:

“Tell Elias Verdan he has my attention. Daveon, your brother is here as well as your father couldn’t make it. He’ll come see you soon.”

Daveon simply nodded. That was all he could do in front of this man. Two years ago, he’d almost seen the man in action and he didn’t like it.

Soon, they were gone.

Damon slumped into a chair.

Anaya sat beside him.

“I tried,” she whispered.

“You did great.”

Celeste kicked his boot lightly. “Next time, tell us when royalty’s dropping in.”

“You’re all fine,” Damon groaned. “It’s me they’ll interrogate later.”

Leana crossed her arms. “Good. You’ve earned it.”

~~~~~

The final cheers from the arena had barely faded by the time Damon leaned back on his seat and clapped his hands together.

“That’s it. We’re celebrating.”

Daveon blinked. “Now?”

“Absolutely. We’ve earned it. You’ve earned it. I’ve earned it especially.”

Celeste raised an eyebrow. “Because you bet on the winner?”

“Because I bet intelligently on the winner,” Damon corrected, patting the coin pouch that sat snugly on his belt. “You can smell the gold on me, admit it.”

Anaya rolled her eyes. “You’d think you fought the final battle yourself.”

“I did,” Damon said with a grin. “In spirit. And in monetary terms.”

Leana, still standing off to the side, gave a rare smile. “Cafeteria?”

“Cafeteria,” Damon confirmed. “Let’s go while the post-victory rush hasn’t devoured everything edible.”

They exited the prep tent, the mood light, the team exchanging laughter and sarcastic jabs as they headed toward the main cafeteria of the academy.

The scent of roasted meats and fresh-stewed vegetables wafted out from a floor vent as they neared the slope down the stone stairs.

But before they reached the entrance, someone rounded the corner from the opposite path and nearly walked straight into them.

Elias.

He stopped when he saw them, and for a moment, they froze too.

Not from intimidation.

But from uncertainty.

This was Elias Verdan. The storm. The anomaly. The newly crowned Champion of the Final Year Trials.

The man who didn’t speak much.

Didn’t smile much.

Didn’t flinch at anything.

But now?

He looked… casual.

He nodded once in greeting to Leana.

“Miss Leana.”

She smiled at him — properly. Not just polite. Warm. Familiar.

“Elias.”

The tone surprised the team instantly.

Damon blinked. “Wait, you two know each other?”

Leana folded her arms. “I do more than know him. I mentored him before you ever arrived at the academy.”

Elias gave a half-smirk, eyes glinting.

“She’s being modest. She trained me, drilled me, nearly broke my ribs twice in the name of ’refining my defense rotation.’”

Leana raised an eyebrow. “You broke the dummy target.”

“You built it from a special ore.”

Celeste leaned toward Anaya. “Are we supposed to be hearing this?”

Anaya whispered, “I don’t think he talks like this with anyone else.”

Elias turned to them, folding his hands behind his back.

“I suppose that makes me your senior. In class rank, and under Miss Leana’s iron rule.”

Leana coughed lightly.

“Iron, huh?”

“You know it’s love.”

That earned a quiet snort from Daveon.

Elias looked back at the team and nodded.

“She’s a great instructor. You’re lucky to have her.”

Celeste muttered, “Tell that to my lower back.”

“She doesn’t go easy.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Damon said, chuckling. “We’re quite aware.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Damon stepped forward and slapped a hand against his pouch.

“We’re heading to celebrate. You’re invited, obviously. Meal’s on me. I made a lot of noise today betting on your name.”

Elias smiled lightly. “Tempting.”

“Don’t make me beg.”

“I won’t. But I’ll still have to decline.”

Damon blinked. “Wait, what?”

Elias nodded toward the main building. “The Dean called for me.”

Leana frowned. “Now?”

“Apparently it can’t wait.”

Damon let out a dramatic groan. “Fine. But you better take me up on it next time.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Elias said. Then paused. “Triple meat portions.”

Damon grinned. “Most definitely.”

With that, Elias turned and continued down the path, heading toward the Dean’s building.

The group stood quietly for a moment, watching him leave.

Daveon let out a low whistle. “That was… unexpected.”

Celeste nodded. “I thought he’d be cold or distant. Not funny.”

“Or warm,” Anaya added.

Damon rubbed his chin. “It’s the Leana effect. Man’s clearly been through the same wringer we have.”

Leana didn’t respond. She just smirked.

As they resumed walking, Celeste asked, “He really your former student?”

“Yes.”

“What was he like?”

“Focused. Disciplined. A little obsessive. Quiet.”

“And now?”

“Still all of those things,” Leana said. “But around those he considers juniors—he relaxes. Talks like an older brother.”

Damon grinned. “So we’re adopted?”

“You’re what he never had,” Leana replied. “Siblings.”

“Comforting,” Daveon muttered.

“Concerning,” Anaya corrected.

Finally, they reached the cafeteria doors.

Inside, a few scattered tables were already filled with lingering Fourth and Fifth Years, mostly ElderGlow and Thornevale students.

But most were elsewhere — still caught in post-tournament buzz or preparing for departure.

The team secured a central table near one of the side windows.

Damon stood at the front counter and slammed his gold pouch on the wood.

“Four plates of smoked drake. Two of the lightning broth. Keep the bread coming. And whatever meat-stuffed pastry you’ve got in the back — all of it.”

The server stared. “Uh—”

Damon grinned. “You’ll know it’s enough when it starts to hurt.”

Back at the table, the group laughed over shared bites and near-death stories from Leana’s training circuits.

They talked about Elias again.

Celeste: “He fights like he’s reading the world before it breathes.”

Daveon: “He could’ve crushed Cedric in seconds. I know it.”

Anaya nodded. “But he didn’t. He gave him a battle worth having.”

Damon exhaled, leaning back with a full plate in front of him.

“He didn’t just win the tournament.”

He lifted his mug.

“He owned it.”

Meanwhile the halls of the Dean’s wing were quieter than the rest of the academy.

A few attendants passed, bowing respectfully.

But no one stopped Elias.

He moved without escort. Without announcement.

He didn’t need either.

Everyone knew who he was now.

At the top of the curved staircase, past two twin stone archways and beneath a high-etched ceiling of ElderGlow’s founding oaths, stood a heavy arched door carved from Dragonwood.

Elias knocked once.

A voice answered.

“Enter.”

He did.

Dean Godsthorn stood in front of the chair just behind his desk, hands behind his back and robes loose.

“Sit, Elias.”

Elias did.

No hesitation.

No questions.

The Dean turned only after several seconds of silence.

“You performed well.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re aware of what comes next.”

“I have assumptions.”

Godsthorn raised an eyebrow.

“Let me make it clear then.”

He stepped forward and dropped a seal scroll on the desk.

The crest burned lightly — gold and violet.

The seal of the Imperial Military Invitation.

“Your name has been moved to Tier-One Consideration. You’re no longer bound to ElderGlow’s internal promotions as this is your final year here. You’re now eligible for reassignment.”

Elias nodded once.

“And?”

Godsthorn smiled.

“Will you accept?”

Elias was quiet for a long moment.

Then, he answered. “I’ll think about it.”

Godsthorn chuckled. “Of course you will.”

He reached into the desk and tossed Elias a simple black pin with a silver stripe — the insignia of a graduate with unrestricted magical command even though they weren’t officially done with the academic session.

“You’ve earned this.”

Elias caught it.

Stared at it for a moment.

Then tucked it into his coat.

“Thank you.”

Godsthorn studied him for another beat.

Then said softly:

“They think you’re just talented. But I know better.”

“You’re walking toward something.”

“And it’s not the Imperial Army.”

Elias didn’t deny it.

Just stood and nodded.

“At a later time, we’ll discuss your encounter in the Maze. I’d like to know which choice you made.” Dean Godsthorn smile.

Elias’s eyes widened but he didn’t say anything. The Dean’s words had already told him all he needed to know. Dean Godsthorn was aware of what had happened and it was most likely because he took had enocuntered the same thing.

Elias nodded. “I’ll take my leave now, sir.”

Dean Godsthorn smiled. “Have fun, young genius.”

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