The Headmaster’s office felt different this time. The air was heavier. Headmaster Andrade sat in her chair, but she didn’t look like the imperious Master Mage Ray had talked a month ago.

She looked tired. There were lines around her eyes that hadn’t been there before. The betrayal of Osmin Nobeos had taken a massive toll on her. .

Ray, Svane, and Kaelen entered. Svane took his usual post by the door.

Andrade looked up.

“The review is complete. The academy is secure. The leak is plugged. Are you satisfied, Miss Thorne?”

Andrade said, her voice flat.

“I am, Headmaster. You kept your word.”

Kaelen said respectfully.

“I always keep my word. Now, I assume our business is concluded? You have your sanctuary. I have my security.”

Andrade said.

“Not quite,” Ray said.

He nodded to Kaelen.

Kaelen stepped forward. She reached into her bag and pulled out a black ledger. It was heavy, bound in cracked leather, smelling of ozone and old secrets.

She placed it on the desk.

Andrade looked at the book, then at Kaelen. “What is this?”

“The list I gave you was just the spies in your house,”

Kaelen said.

“This… this is the rest of the network.”

Kaelen opened the book to a marked page.

“This contains the supply lines. The bribes to the Southern Port Authority. The nobles under the Hand’s control. The identities of the Hand’s logistics officers. My father was in the middle of it and he kept a record of all of it.”

She flipped the page.

“And this… is the Northern Citadel.”

Andrade frowned. She pulled the book closer, adjusting her spectacles. She read the entry regarding Viscount Morales. She read the shipping manifests.

“Viscount Morales? He commands the Northern Citadel. He controls a third of the Kingdom’s standing army.”

Andrade whispered.

Ray stepped forward, interrupting the moment.

“Headmaster, humor me for a moment, what is the current market price for an ounce of refined Null-Alloy?”

Ray said, his voice cutting through the tension.

Andrade looked up, confused by the pivot.

“There is no market price, Novice Croft. Null-Alloy is a Strategic Alpha resource. It is illegal for a private citizen to own it. The Crown controls the only three active mines in the kingdom. The yearly output is barely enough to maintain the King’s Guard.”

“Exactly, It is rare. It is controlled. And yet, High Inquisitor Landa has a squad of Vanguards equipped with it. We accept that because he belongs to the Department of Magical Regulation’s Inquisition. But look at the shipping manifest on page forty-two.”

Ray said.

Andrade flipped the page. Her eyes scanned the numbers. Her breath hitched.

“Five hundred kilos, in one month. That is more than the kingdom produces in a year.”

Andrade stated in surprise.

Andrade looked up, horror dawning in her eyes.

“Where? Where are they getting this?”

“Iron-Wake, everyone thinks Iron-Wake was just a regular mining and factory district. But it wasn’t. The Hand burned the city to hide what was underneath it. We had personally seen a very big void ore refinement facility. Iron-Wake sits on top of a Void Ore vein. And not just a pocket, Headmaster. From what I found out in my research it should be the largest vein in history. The motherlode.”

The author’s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Ray answered.

Andrade stood up, her hands trembling slightly as the implication hit her.

“They aren’t just smuggling, they are mass-producing it. If they have this big void ore vein and much null-alloy…”

“Then they can equip an army that is immune to magic. They can march on the Capital, and the Battle Mages of the Royal Court won’t be able to stop them.”

Ray finished the thought.

The room was silent. The scale of the threat had just expanded from ‘Treason’ to ‘Possible Kingdom Destruction.’

Ray leaned in, his eyes focused.

“But ask yourself this, Headmaster. How does a criminal syndicate hide a mining operation of that scale for many years? How do they move that much null-alloy through the Kingdom without any of the kingdom’s inspectors noticing?”

Andrade’s face paled. She knew the answer.

“They can’t, not unless…”

She whispered.

“Not unless someone at high up is blinding the inspectors, Viscount Morales is a big fish, but he’s just a General. He can’t silence the Royal Surveyors. He can’t scrub the cargo manifest.”

Ray said.

Ray gestured to the window, pointing towards the direction of the kingdom’s capital.

“There is a Patron in the Capital, Headmaster. Someone high enough to blindfold the King while the Hand builds a knife to slit his throat.”

Ray looked at the book.

“The Hand burned a city in an attempt to hide this book. Now you have it. You don’t just have a shield anymore, Headmaster. You have the only weapon capable of exposing the Hand and its Patron.”

Andrade looked at the ledger. For a long moment, she looked like she wanted to close it, to burn it, to pretend she had never seen it. Knowing this made her a target not just from the Hand, but also from this shadow patron that is high up the ranks in the Kingdom of Eldoria.

But then, she thought of Osmin Nobeos. She thought of the students, staff and professors that had been corrupted by the Hand like an invisible rot. She thought of the Academy she had sworn to protect.

Her expression changed. The tiredness vanished, burned away by a cold, hard resolve. The Administrator disappeared. The Master Mage returned.

She closed the book with a heavy thud. She placed her hand on the cover.

She looked at Ray, Kaelen and Svane with eyes of steel.

“Then it is time that we started swinging back.”

Andrade declared.

The declaration hung in the air of the Headmaster’s office, heavy as smoke.

Headmaster Andrade sat back staring at the ledger. The initial flush of resolve had faded, replaced by the crushing reality of what lay ahead. She wasn’t just investigating a crime syndicate anymore; she was picking a fight with a shadow government that had infiltrated the deepest part of the Royal Government.

She looked up at Ray and Kaelen.

“You have armed us,”

Andrade said, her voice quiet.

“But make no mistake. This is no longer an internal Academy matter. This is a war for the soul of the Kingdom.”

She placed a hand on top of the ledger.

“I cannot fight this alone even with all the resources of the Academy I will only be limited to the Solhaven region. And I certainly cannot fight it with two students, however capable you are.”

“Who do you trust?”

Ray asked.

“Sidran Lockyer,”

Andrade said, the name carrying a weight of reverence.

“My predecessor. My mentor. He retired ten years ago to the Capital. Before he was Headmaster, he was the Captain of the Royal Guard. He knows the snake pit of the Royal Court better than anyone alive and I trust him with my life.”

She looked at them, her expression hardening into a command.

“I am taking command of this Ledger. I will bring it to Sidran. We will navigate the politics. We will identify the Patron.”

She leaned forward.

“You are to stand down. You have done your part. You found the leak. You exposed the threat. Now, let the adults handle the war.”

Ray stood there, his face impassive, but inside, a bitter memory clawed at his throat.

The Royal Court.

He remembered Zenus Landa’s words during that dinner a while ago. The Royal Physician had evaluated Alistair Croft’s plea for help, a plea to save a dying infant Ray, and denied it. The Crown had calculated that Ray wasn’t worth the resources. That rejection had forced his father to turn to the Argent Hand, sealing the doom of House Croft.

Detective: “Irony is a cold bitch, isn’t she? You’re handing the weapon to the same government that left the original Ray Croft to rot in a crib.”

The Gritty Detective said while snickering.

Courtier: “It’s not charity. It’s ballistics. The Crown is a hammer. The Hand is the nail. We don’t have to love the hammer; we just have to make sure it hits the target.”

The Scheming Courtier responded with his justification.

Ray pushed the bitterness down. He wasn’t saving the Kingdom for the King’s sake. He was using the Kingdom to destroy the Hand. And if the ‘Patron’ listed in that book happened to be part of the same corrupt system that ignored his father? Then he would burn them too, eventually.

Ray felt a flicker of frustration, the instinct to control everything rebelled against being sidelined, but he suppressed it. She was right. He was a twelve year old 1st-Circle Novice. He couldn’t walk into the Royal Palace and accuse someone in a high position of treason.

“Understood,”

Ray said.

“But Iron-Wake… the vein needs to be secured, the Hand probably thinks that by collapsing the mines it has successfully made it disappear. But it can be found again as long as you know where to dig.”

“Tell me its location.”

Andrade ordered.

Ray pulled a folded map from his bag of holding, the geological survey he had taken it from Titus Thorne’s study. He placed it on the desk.

“My estimate is that it is beneath the Foundry District,”

Ray pointed.

“We found one of the entrances that was in Titus Thorne’s study in the West Wing of the Thorne Manor, but there should be another entrance and exit, it should be big enough for them to bring out tons of void ore.”

Andrade studied the map, her eyes narrowing as she calculated the logistics.

“Foundry District,”

she murmured.

“We can’t just march an army in. We need a cover story…”

She looked up, a plan forming behind her eyes.

“Leave it to me. Go back to your dorms. Be students. And for the love of the gods, stay out of trouble.”

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