“Policy?”

Cassian asked as he was confused.

“As you know, the Academy recently been able to stabilize the situation of the Genesis Crystal,”

Andrade began.

“You also know that we had to submit a comprehensive report to the Arcane Council explaining the structural causes of the ‘Fraying’ incident.”

Ray watched her carefully.

Here it comes,

he thought.

The cover story becomes history.

“The Arcane Council has accepted our findings,”

Andrade continued.

“We have officially attributed the instability to ‘Entropic Resonance Decay,’ a phenomenon that suggests that the Genesis Crystal is not infinite, due to the exposure of the corruption of the Sunken Vaults it has been subjected to long-term degradation.”

She paused, her dark eyes locking onto Cassian’s terrified blue ones.

“This is the exact phenomenon predicted many, many years ago by your ancestor, Master Thaddeus Ashvane.”

The room went dead silent. The clock on the wall ticked loudly.

“Because the Academy has formally adopted the ‘Ashvane Framework’ as the official explanation for the crisis,”

Andrade said, picking up the scroll,

“it is no longer untenable to keep his name stricken from the record.”

She slid the scroll across the polished wood of the desk toward Cassian.

“This is a copy of the petition I sent to the Arcane Council this morning. We are requesting the posthumous reinstatement of Thaddeus Ashvane’s tenure. We are also petitioning to clear his record of the charge of ‘Heretical Alarmism’ and to declassify his research for immediate academic study.”

Cassian stared at the scroll. His hands shook violently as he reached out, his fingers hovering over the wax seal as if afraid it would bite him.

“You…”

Cassian whispered, his voice cracking.

“You’re un-silencing him?”

“We are validating him,”

Andrade corrected.

“His work is no longer heresy, Mage Ashvane. It is now the foundation of our survival strategy.”

Cassian let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. He grabbed the scroll, pulling it to his chest as if it were a physical lifeline. Tears welled up in his eyes, spilling over onto his ink-stained cheeks.

“He wasn’t crazy,”

Cassian choked out, rocking slightly in his chair.

“He wasn’t crazy. My father died trying to prove it. My grandfather died trying to clear his name. They… they weren’t crazy.”

“No,”

Ray said softly from beside him.

“They were just right too early.”

Cassian looked at Ray. The intelligence in his blue eyes sharpened through the tears. He looked from Ray to the Headmaster, his mind, usually so scattered connecting the dots with terrifying speed. He saw the lack of surprise on Ray’s face. He saw the resigned set of Andrade’s jaw.

“You,”

Cassian said, his voice trembling but clear. He looked at Ray.

“You knew about this.”

Ray didn’t deny it.

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“Master Thaddeus’s work is the only thing that makes sense of the Fraying, Senior Cassian. I just made sure the Headmaster realized that admitting it was the best way to protect the school.”

Andrade stiffened slightly at the implication, but she remained silent.

Cassian wiped his face with his sleeve, smearing ink across his forehead. He stood up, clutching the scroll. He took a deep breath, and for the first time since Ray had met him, Cassian Ashvane stood tall. The hunched, frantic posture of the recluse vanished, replaced by the dignity of an heir to a great intellectual line.

“Thank you, Headmaster,”

Cassian said. His voice was steady.

“And… if the Council requires the original proofs… the handwritten derivations for the sub-layer degradation…”

He tapped the scroll against his chest.

“I have them. I’ve kept them safe. I can provide the math that proves he saw this coming before any of you were even born.”

Andrade’s lips twitched, almost a smile.

“I expect nothing less, Mage Ashvane. The Academy may call upon you to testify to the veracity of the documents. Be ready.”

“I will be,”

Cassian vowed.

“You are dismissed.”

Cassian nodded. He turned to Ray. He didn’t say thank you. He didn’t have to. The look he gave Ray, a look of absolute, terrifying loyalty was enough.

Cassian practically floated out of the room, the heavy oak doors closing behind him with a thud.

Headmaster Andrade let out a long, slow breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. The mask of the ‘Iron Headmaster’ slipped, revealing the exhaustion of a woman who had spent the last couple of weeks walking on a knife’s edge.

She walked back to the window, looking out over the academy grounds where students were bustling between classes.

“Did we make the right choice, Novice Croft?”

she asked quietly, her voice devoid of its usual command.

“Digging up a ghost to save the living? The Arcane Council hates admitting they were wrong. This petition… it’s a declaration of war against the old administration’s policies.”

“It’s not a war, Headmaster. It’s a correction,”

Ray said, remaining seated but speaking with the calm assurance of the Scheming Courtier.

“And it is the only logical move.”

Andrade turned to face him, leaning against the windowsill. She looked at him not as a student, but as a strategist she had come to rely on.

“Explain.”

“We can’t keep the Fraying of the Genesis Crystal and how we stabilize it a secret forever,”

Ray said.

“If we hide it, we look like accomplices to a disaster. But if we embrace Thaddeus Ashvane’s research now, we control the narrative.”

He stood up and walked toward the desk, gesturing to the empty space where the scroll had been.

“Think about the timing,”

Ray continued.

“Auditor Landa just left. He saw the situation of the Genesis Crystal now. He knows something is not right on how we stabilize it but he could not find any proof of it. He had no choice but to accept our cover story on how we stabilized it. When he files his report to the Arcane Council, he will state what he has seen and if the Arcane Council ask’s him about our petition regarding Ashvane Framework, he has to confirm it to maintain his reputation as an auditor.”

Ray met Andrade’s eyes, a faint, confident smile playing on his lips.

“If our petition arrives after Landa’s report, they will reinforce each other. Landa confirms the current situation; you provide the historical cause. You don’t look negligent, Headmaster. You look proactive. You look like the leader who finally had the courage to listen to the warning signs.”

Andrade stared at him, processing the layers of the strategy. Slowly, the tension left her face, replaced by a look of genuine respect.

“You really have thought this all the way through,”

she murmured.

“Most mages spend their lives studying spellforms. You seem to study outcomes.”

“I study survival,”

Ray corrected gently.

“And right now, the Academy’s survival is my survival.”

Andrade pushed off the windowsill and returned to her desk. She looked stronger now, reassured by the logic.

“Thank you, Ray,”

she said, using his first name, a rare breach of protocol that carried heavy weight.

“I was ready to fight the Arcane Council, but you’ve shown me how to make them thank us instead.”

“They’ll still argue,”

Ray warned.

“But with Cassian’s proof and your reputation, you’ll win.”

“Then I suppose I have work to do,”

Andrade said, sitting down and pulling a fresh stack of parchment toward her. She dipped her quill, her movements sharp and decisive again.

“Go. I imagine you have your own studies to attend to. And Novice Croft?”

Ray paused at the door.

“Yes, Headmaster?”

“Do try to keep your ‘Artifice’ experiments contained,”

she said, a hint of dry amusement in her voice.

“I don’t want to explain any explosions caused by unsanctioned experiments to the Council.”

“No explosions. Just theory,”

Ray promised with a grin.

He slipped out the door.

Ray walked down the corridor, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the stone floor. The hallway was empty, allowing the voices in his head to speak freely.

Courtier: “A clean sweep, Andrade is no longer just a supervisor; she is an accomplice. By tying her reputation to the Ashvane Framework, we have ensured she will defend it, and by extension, us with her political life. The board is ours.”

The Scheming Courtier purred, his voice smooth as silk in Ray’s mind.

Scholar: “And Cassian is functional again! Do you realize the value of his archived data? We just gained a dedicated external processor for the Genesis Crystal’s entropy metrics. We outsourced the heavy math to a genius! That is peak efficiency!”

The Eccentric Scholar chirped, sounding delighted.

Ray raised his right hand. The gears of the Theorist’s Glove clicked softly as he flexed his fingers.

Veteran: “Don’t get cocky, kids, we secured the perimeter, nothing more. The Academy is safe for now, but the Argent Hand is still out there. They don’t care about petitions or school boards. The war isn’t over just because we won a debate.”

The Grizzled Veteran grunted, his tone cutting through the celebration like a knife.

Ray lowered his hand. The shadows stretched out before him, dark and waiting.

I know,

Ray thought, merging the voices into a singular focus.

But the script is written, and the actors are in place.

He adjusted his collar, his eyes cold and determined.

“It’s time to get back to work.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep