Chapter 38: Chapter 37: The Valedictorian of Chaos

Time Remaining: 29 Days, 12 Hours. Location: The Secret Workshop (Behind the Gym).

The engine of the Pendelton Cruiser MK II was idling. The low rumble of the V4 Hybrid block vibrated through the soles of their boots.

Arthur sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the leather-wrapped steering wheel. He checked his gauges.

Mana Core: 100% (Thunder-Lizard Output Stable).

Steam Pressure: 110 PSI.

Ammo (Sun-Lance): Fully Charged.

“Everyone strapped in?” Arthur called out.

“Strapped in,” Vivian replied from the passenger seat. She adjusted the shoulder belt Arthur had fabricated from leather straps. She looked pale but fierce.

“I feel ridiculous,” Julian muttered from the back seat. He was wearing the welding goggles Arthur had forced on him. “I look like a mole-rat.”

“You look like a tactical asset,” Arthur corrected. “Zack, status?”

Zack sat next to Julian, clutching the spare iScroll. “The graduation ceremony is underway. Headmaster Alaric is giving the ’Metaphor of the Tree’ speech. It usually lasts forty minutes. We have a ten-minute window before the applause starts.”

Arthur shifted the heavy gear lever into first gear.

“The wall,” Arthur reminded them. “It is three feet of reinforced brick. We have armor, but the impact will be… significant. Brace for deceleration.”

“Just hit the gas, Art,” Vivian grinned, her hand resting on the dashboard. “Let’s make an exit.”

…

Outside, in the sun-drenched Central Courtyard, the mood was somber.

Hundreds of white chairs were filled with proud parents, bored nobles, and the graduating Sixth Year students.

Headmaster Alaric stood at the podium, his voice amplified by wind magic.

“And so,” Alaric droned, “Just as the roots seek the water, you must seek the… truth. Even when the soil is hard. Even when the drought comes.”

In the front row, Arch-Mage Valerius van Thorne (Julian’s father) sat stiffly. He checked his pocket watch. He had found Julian’s letter that morning. A Grand Tour? Valerius scowled. Foolish boy. Running away from his studies.

Next to him, Duke Kaelen von Pendelton (Arthur’s father) was asleep. Duchess Elena poked him.

“Wake up,” she whispered. “The speech is ending.”

“Did we win?” the Duke snorted, blinking.

“And now,” Alaric looked up from his scroll. “Before we hand out the diplomas, let us observe a moment of silence for the Founders who built these walls to last for eternity.”

The courtyard went silent. The birds sang. The wind rustled the leaves.

THUMP… THUMP… THUMP…

A rhythmic vibration traveled through the ground.

The tea in the Duchess’s cup rippled.

“What is that?” Valerius whispered, his eyes narrowing. He sensed a disturbance in the mana field. A massive, condensed energy signature.

VRUM-VRUM-VRUM.

The sound grew louder. It wasn’t magic. It was mechanical. A deep, throaty growl that sounded like a beast clearing its throat.

Headmaster Alaric looked toward the East Wing—specifically, toward the solid stone wall of the gymnasium that formed the backdrop of the stage.

“Is that… thunder?” Alaric asked.

…

Inside the car, Arthur yelled: “Torque Maximum!”

He slammed the throttle.

The Thunder Core flared. The steam pistons pumped furiously. The massive rubber tires screeched on the workshop floor, finding grip.

The three-ton steel tank launched forward.

“Brace!” Arthur screamed.

CRASH.

The wall didn’t just break; it detonated.

Stone bricks, mortar, and dust blasted outward into the courtyard. The shockwave knocked the Headmaster off his podium.

Through the cloud of grey dust, the Pendelton Cruiser emerged airborne.

For a split second, time seemed to freeze. The nobles stared up at the flying black metal beast. They saw the “Cowcatcher” ram. They saw the glowing blue vents. They saw the teenage boy behind the wheel wearing welding goggles.

SLAM.

The car hit the cobblestones. The heavy-duty suspension compressed, absorbing the impact with a metallic groan, then rebounded.

The car didn’t stop. It drifted sideways, tires smoking, knocking over a row of potted ferns.

“Go! Go! Go!” Vivian screamed, laughing hysterically.

Arthur wrestled the steering wheel, straightening the car out. He aimed for the center aisle—right between the rows of terrified nobles.

“Clear the path!” Arthur’s voice was amplified by a megaphone spell he had rigged to the dashboard. “Emergency maintenance crew coming through!”

“My gods!” Duke Pendelton stood up, knocking over his chair. “That’s Arthur! That’s my son! Look at that chassis!”

“Julian!” Arch-Mage Valerius spotted the blonde boy in the back seat. “Julian! Get out of that infernal machine this instant!”

Julian leaned out the window. He locked eyes with his father.

For a moment, Julian hesitated. The fear of authority, the years of discipline, weighed on him.

Then, he remembered the screeching crystal. He remembered the “Blocked” warnings.

Julian didn’t apologize. He didn’t ask for permission.

He raised his hand and gave his father a sharp, military salute.

“Watch the news, Father!” Julian shouted. “We’re going to fix the plumbing!”

…..

“Stop them!” Headmaster Alaric roared, scrambling to his feet. “They are destroying the campus! Faculty! Intercept!”

Professor Ignis (Fire Magic) was the first to react. He didn’t need a broom. He blasted fire from his hands, launching himself into the air like a rocket.

“You brats!” Ignis screamed, flying after the speeding car. “You ruined the ceremony!”

“Hostile bogey at six o’clock!” Zack screamed, checking the rearview mirror. “It’s Ignis! He’s charging a Fireball!”

“Vivian!” Arthur commanded. “Defense!”

“I can’t hit a flying target with a sword!” Vivian yelled.

“Use the Smoke Screen!” Arthur pointed to the red switch.

“What?”

“The Steam Purge! Dump the boiler!”

Ignis threw the fireball. It spiraled toward the car’s rear tires.

Vivian slammed the red switch.

PSSSHHHH-WHOOSH!

Valves under the car opened. A massive cloud of superheated white steam and oily smoke blasted out of the rear exhaust.

The fireball hit the steam cloud and sizzled out, dampened by the moisture.

Ignis flew straight into the white wall.

“Gah! It’s wet!” Ignis sputtered, blinded. The steam fogged his glasses and soaked his robes. His combustion spell flickered and died.

He tumbled out of the air, crashing into a large decorative haystack prepared for the post-graduation feast.

The Cruiser roared through the main gates (which were open for the guests), drifting onto the main road leading away from the Academy.

Arthur shifted into fourth gear. The engine settled into a smooth, high-speed hum.

Behind them, the Academy was a chaotic mess of dust, confused nobles, and an angry Headmaster.

Arthur took a deep breath. He pulled off his goggles.

“Phase 1 Complete,” Arthur announced, his heart pounding. “We have successfully dropped out of school.”

“We are legends,” Vivian breathed, looking back at the shrinking castle.

“We are fugitives,” Julian corrected, slumping into his seat. “And we have 29 days to save the world.”

Arthur looked at the road ahead. The asphalt ended a few miles out, turning into the dirt tracks of the Wilds.

“Zack,” Arthur said. “Check the pantry.”

“Why?”

“Because I was busy welding the armor,” Arthur said, a sudden panic rising in his chest. “I packed the emergency rations… right?”

Zack opened the metal box in the center console. He stared into it.

“Well,” Zack said slowly. “You packed the water skins. And the medical kit. And the ammo.”

“And the food?” Arthur asked.

“There is…” Zack held up a single, sad-looking apple. “One apple. And a bag of raw coffee beans.”

Silence filled the car.

“You forgot the food,” Vivian said, staring at Arthur. “You built a three-ton tank, and you forgot lunch?”

“I prioritized the armor!” Arthur defended weakly. “Caloric intake can be scavenged! Armor cannot!”

“I am going to eat you,” Julian threatened. “I am a growing noble. If I don’t get protein, I get cranky.”

“Next town,” Arthur promised, stepping on the gas. “We find a tavern. Now… to the Wilds.”

End of Chapter 37

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