Chapter 103: Information!

Luna’s aura spread across the room as the others could sense her simmering rage, the usual smiles replaced by a stern expression, “If that club is indeed the root… I’ll tear the rot out myself.”

She said, turning to Elara and Albedo, “Let’s go,”

Albedo just nodded, ready but Elara blinked, a bit startled, “Huh? Me?”

“You’re living proof of their corruption,” Luna replied flatly, “If we find survivors, or traitors, your testimony will strip them of excuses.” Her gaze softened, barely perceptible,

Elara pressed her lips together, hesitated, then gave a firm nod. Once she saw that, Luna raised her hand

Luna’s expression flickered with approval. She raised a hand, dark glyphs blooming like black fire around her palm. “Then let us waste no more time.”

The chamber warped again with Luna’s teleportation, shadows folding reality itself. A heartbeat later, the three of them reappeared in the central courtyard, just outside the long marble steps leading up to the Club Pavilion, the sprawling building that housed dozens of student organizations.

Not long ago, the Pavilion had been a place of bustle, housing clubs that dealt with everything from enchanting and potion-making to beast studies and battle dueling. Now, smoke and ruin cloaked the structure like a funeral shroud.

The scent of scorched stone and splintered wood hit Albedo immediately. Half the east wing was collapsed in smoldering ruin, ash carried on the acrid wind.

Shadows of burned banners still clung to broken pillars, their emblems unrecognizable due to the destruction.

The charred corpses of Hollowed Ones were littered all around the crumbling building as the air was thick with immense ash.

As they walked, their boots constantly crunched against the blackened gravel as they walked.

Elara hugged her arms close, her knuckles white. The more and more she saw her fellow students now turned into grotesque monsters and killed, the more her stomach churned with disgust.

Albedo’s expression was unreadable, though his fingers twitched toward his coat, where Havoc and Ruin lay holstered. His instincts screamed that the battle here had ended too quickly, too cleanly.

“Too many bodies,” Luna murmured. “And none of them the ones responsible.”

A calm, aristocratic voice answered her.

“You noticed as well.”

The three turned.

Descending the fractured marble steps, as though the wreckage itself parted for her, was Raphaeline, the Headmistress carried herself with a poise that seemed almost out of place amidst the ruin.

“Headmistress…” Elara whispered, bowing instinctively before catching herself.

Raphaeline waved the gesture away. “Save the courtesies, child. Tonight is not a night for ceremony.”

Albedo’s gaze narrowed slightly, “You knew the source?”

“I did.” Raphaeline’s wings flexed once, shadows of violet light trailing behind them like oil on water before folding again, “Once the attack began, I quickly traced the source to a Club here. And yet, by the time I arrived,”

She motioned at the corpses, scattered like broken dolls in the ash. “…it was already reduced to nothing but corpses and rubble.”

Her tone was level, but Albedo caught the subtle tension in her jaw. She was displeased, not at being wrong, but at being outpaced and caught off guard.

Elara took a nervous step forward, “Headmistress, were… were any of the founders found here?”

Raphaeline’s crimson gaze slid to her, thoughtful. For a moment, Albedo thought she might refuse to answer. But then she spoke, low and deliberate.

“No. I already confirmed it. The three who established this club, the ones who first spread the so-called Circle of Renewal technique, were not among the dead.”

She said, waving her hand and a ray of Crimson energy sprang from her hand, covering various of the Hollowed Ones as she spoke, “I can sense the latent soul aura of all of these students. None of them match the founders,”

Luna’s eyes hardened, “Names.”

Raphaeline smiled faintly. “Direct as always, Evervale. Very well. Their names are Corin Hale, Marissa Deylen, and Veynar Roth.” She pronounced each syllable with cold precision, as if carving them into stone.

“All of them are promising Commoner students who rose through the ranks, yet all of them disappeared. I’ve already ensured their dormitories were searched, but there was no trace. No belongings left, no mana residue, nothing. A clean vanishing act.”

Albedo folded his arms, “Which means this attack was planned for quite a while, they’ve had their exit plan and everything and just wanted to land a critical hit to the Academy,”

“Yep, the Hollowed Ones were just Expendable pawns, lured by the allure of power to their demise,” Raphaeline agreed, “Not a single mana signature among these corpses matches the three. Which suggests they fled… or were taken elsewhere to continue their work.”

Elara bit her lip. She had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed only twisted the unease deeper in her stomach. “So all those students, ” She gestured helplessly to the corpses. “All Gone,” a sombre tone was in her voice.

The night wind blew harshly across the ruined courtyard, scattering ashes.

Then Raphaeline’s tone shifted, regaining its commanding weight. “The Academy City is sealed. No one enters or leaves until the matter is resolved. The Eye of Aeons is awake and scanning every soul within these walls. All students and faculty are under watch. A mass investigation has already begun.”

“No matter where they hide in this city, no mask will withstand it. The only question is whether we catch them before the Abyss reclaims them entirely.”

Elara’s throat went dry as Raphaeline’s crimson gaze settled on her. The Headmistress tilted her head ever so slightly, like a hawk sizing prey, not with cruelty, but with an intensity that stripped away all pretense.

“Elara” Raphaeline said slowly, “you’ve walked closer to this hazard than most and survived, so I require your account, every detail, every nuance of what you saw when interacting with those 3 students,”

Elara stiffened, her fingers tightening at her sides. She hesitated, looking first to Albedo, then to Luna, as though searching for a shield. But Albedo only met her gaze evenly. He didn’t have to speak; she knew the look. This is your part now.

Her shoulders sank with a sigh, and she gave a small no, “…Of course, Headmistress.”

“Good,” Raphaeline murmured, softer now, though the steel never left her voice. “Your testimony may cut through lies the others spin when the Eye of Aeons peers into them. Stay with me.”

Her gaze then lifted to Luna and Albedo. The courtyard seemed to quiet at her shift of attention, even the ash-laden wind dimming to a whisper.

“Evervale. Neverwinter.” Raphaeline’s tone regained the sharp command of an empress issuing orders, “Those three left no trace here, but maybe they left traces in their homes, even the smallest scrap, a burned note or trinket, anything could be a clue,”

Raphaeline handed Luna a paper, “Here’s the location of their homes back in Pantheon, I want you two to comb through all of them in immense detail,”

“Time is not our ally. If they remain within Academy City, the Eye will flush them out. But if their roots run deeper, if the Abyss guided them to vanish beyond the walls…”

Her gaze turned to the blackened corpses, the husks of Hollowed Ones. “…then we may be staring at only the first spark of the fire to come.”

The night pressed heavier for a moment, silence hanging between them. Elara’s breath trembled, but she stood her ground beside Raphaeline.

Luna’s fingers closed around the slip of parchment, crimson ink scrawled with three addresses. For a moment, she simply stared at it, her expression unreadable in the dim light, though Albedo sensed the weight of her thoughts.

She tucked the note into her cloak. “Very well. We’ll scour their roots. If rot grows there, I’ll burn it to ash.”

Her eyes flicked once more to Raphaeline, a silent nod of acknowledgment, professional, curt, but not without the gravity of respect.

Raphaeline gave the smallest tilt of her chin. “Be swift.”

Before Elara could utter another word, the shadows surged.

Dark glyphs unfurled beneath Luna’s feet, etching across the courtyard stones like veins of black fire. With a sweep of Raphaeline’s hand, the sigils rose, folding around both Luna and Albedo.

The world inverted. The suffocating ash of the Pavilion vanished in an instant, replaced by the cool breath of night in Pantheon.

They stood in a quiet district on the western edge of the city, where narrow cobbled streets wound between tall, aging houses. Here, the lamps still burned, soft amber light glowing from wrought-iron sconces, yet the silence was absolute.

Not a single window was cracked open. Everything was dimly quiet. At the far end of the street was Corin Hale’s home, the first name on the list.

It was an unassuming structure, three stories of pale stone, ivy clinging to the walls. The shutters were closed, the door bolted tight, but the house radiated something foul.

Not overtly, no surge of corrupted mana, no miasma, but Albedo’s instincts prickled sharp, the same way they had on the battlefield with the Hollowed Ones.

“Quiet,” Luna murmured. Her silver hair caught the moonlight, shimmering like threads of frost. Her gaze lingered on the house with a predator’s patience.

Albedo’s hand brushed against Havoc’s grip, resting there, “You feel it too.”

Luna didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she traced a sigil into the air, green runes bleeding into shape before dissolving into smoke. She tasted the threads of mana woven through the area, her frown deepening as she looked around.

The two approached the steps of Corin Hale’s home. Their boots echoed against the stone, strangely loud in the hushed night.

The front door loomed before them, iron-banded and ordinary, yet Albedo felt as though someone was watching him, and it made him stay on extremely high alert in case of any surprise attacks.

Luna’s hand rose, shadows swirling at her fingertips, “Ready?”

Albedo’s reply was a whisper, cold and certain. “Always.”

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