Somewhere,
Zane walked through the forest, humming softly.
A short distance ahead, Arin was running, stumbling over roots and rocks, his breath uneven, eyes wide with terror.
"P-Please… have mercy… please…" he cried, voice trembling as tears mixed with dirt on his cheeks.
In a blur, Zane vanished.
When Arin looked up, he was already standing in front of him.
Arin froze, his legs gave out, and he fell backward, trying to crawl away.
"P-Professor… please… I didn't—"
Zane's expression didn't change. He grabbed Arin by the neck, lifting him with effortless strength.
Arin's feet dangled off the ground as he struggled weakly.
Zane's palm pressed against Arin's chest — right where Ron had pierced him before.
The hole that had long healed after Malzareth shared his power with him suddenly reappeared, burning through flesh and bone.
Arin screamed in agony. His body convulsed as faint light started leaking from the wound.
Zane's eyes glowed faint violet.
"Found it…" he said quietly.
Arin's vision blurred. His consciousness was slipping. He felt something cold tearing through his core.
His body grew weaker, but it wasn't pain he felt — it was emptiness.
Zane was ripping his soul from his body.
A faint shimmer of white emerged from the wound, twisting and warping until the true shape began to take form.
The light turned solid — revealing a fat, bearded man with glasses, his eyes wide with panic.
Zane dragged the struggling spirit out completely, letting Arin's hollow body fall limp to the ground.
The real Arin — or rather, the man hiding inside him — gasped, staring at his lifeless body in disbelief.
"No… my body…! Give it back! That's mine!" the soul screamed, voice cracking with fear.
Zane looked at him, unimpressed.
"This is the real you. A disgusting creature to be honest."
The soul trembled violently. "No! Stop—!"
Zane's fingers tightened around his neck, cutting off his words.
"Now you'll cease to exist."
Cracks spread through the soul's form like shattered glass.
The man's desperate cries turned into distorted echoes until—
Shatter.
The entire soul burst into countless tiny crystals that scattered into the air, vanishing one by one and medium size crystal that flew toward zane side small dimensional bag.
Zane stared at his empty hand and exhaled softly.
"Finally finished."
He looked down at Arin's body lying motionless on the ground.
A smirk tugged at his lips.
"I could've destroyed both your body and soul… but I have another use for it."
He turned away, brushing invisible dust off his coat.
"Now, you won't even know you were a spy or a traitor," he said, his voice carrying faint amusement.
Then, without looking back, he walked away.
In the present—
Zane looked at Ron and Lia.
"As I said…" his tone calm but firm, "Arin was not from this world."
He smiled faintly.
"He was someone who come from a different world."
Ron and Lia froze, their eyes wide.
"F-From another… world?" Lia whispered, her voice barely audible.
Zane nodded calmly. "Yes. He had all the memories of his previous life. Inside that boy's body… was an old man."
Lia's lips parted slightly in disbelief, while Ron clenched his fists.
Zane continued, his tone casual yet sharp. "Because of an artifact, he could manipulate people. Just like that girl, Celeste. She was being controlled by the same thing."
Ron's eyes widened even more.
That explains it… he thought, that day during the entrance exam… when Lia was acting strange…
His gaze flicked toward Lia, who also looked like she had reached the same realization.
He was controlling her.
Zane glanced at them and sighed. "That's why he always acted like he was special… chosen. Delusional, to be honest."
His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of disgust flashing in them. "And worse — he desired sixteen-year-old girls. Pathetic."
He then pointed straight at Ron. "But you, Ron… you were his biggest obstacle. The one he couldn't defeat."
"Me…?" Ron muttered, taken aback.
Zane nodded. "Yeah. He couldn't stand the fact that you were naturally stronger than him and you defeated him again and again . So, in the end, in desperation… he made a deal."
Ron and Lia both tensed. "A deal… with what?" Lia asked, her voice uneasy.
Zane's smile faded. "An evil entity. The same one that corrupted his artifact. It slowly took control of him from within."
Ron's mind flashed back to that moment — the black, smoky energy, the twisted expression on Arin's face.
"That black smoke… and how he changed… it was because of that?"
Zane nodded. "Exactly. That was the entity taking over. By the time I found him, he wasn't human anymore."
He turned slightly, his tone colder now. "That's why I killed him. He was a danger — to you, to everyone."
Then his expression softened again. "So don't worry about it. What's done is done."
Zane waved his hand lightly. "Now, both of you — go to your dorms. Get some rest."
Ron and Lia didn't move for a moment, still stunned by everything they'd just heard.
They looked at each other — unsure whether to feel relieved or horrified — then slowly nodded.
Zane started walking away. The invisible barrier shimmered faintly, then dissolved into the air.
Ron and Lia stood there in silence for a few seconds before finally turning to leave, their minds spinning with everything they'd learned.
Zane watched them go, a faint smile crossing his lips.
Zane dusted his coat lightly and murmured to himself, "Now, to the interrogation."
With calm, measured steps, he walked down the hall toward the Vice-Chairman's office. The echoes of his boots filled the corridor, steady and unhurried.
.
.
.
.
He knocked once.
"Come in," came Lucen's deep voice.
Zane pushed open the door. Inside, Lucen sat behind his desk, papers neatly stacked to the side. His revam-black eyes were fixed on Zane, while beside him stood Seris Velmira, her usual composed demeanor framed by her dark green hair and glinting green eyes.
The other professors — Varris Denholm, Iralyn Ashwyn, and Mira Elesyn — were already there, seated near the side table. A fourth man stood near them, his hands clasped behind his back.
Lucen's gaze sharpened. "You're late, Zane."
Zane offered a small, easy smile. "My students came to ask me about something."
Lucen sighed and nodded. "I see." Then he gestured toward the unfamiliar man. "This is Corvin — he'll be conducting the interrogation on those five filths you brought in."
Zane's gaze shifted.
Corvin stepped forward, his presence unsettlingly quiet. His hazy blue eyes had a dull gleam to them, pale skin shadowed with dark circles, and his thick black hair was combed back sharply, giving him a precise yet menacing air.
Lucen continued, "Corvin is a sixth-circle mage — specialized in curses, interrogation, torture, and illusion magic. He's one of the best."
Corvin extended his hand politely. "Hello, Professor Zane."
Zane shook it, smiling faintly. "Hello, Mr. Corvin. I'd say nice to meet you… but before that, could you turn off your illusion magic?"
Corvin blinked, then smirked faintly.
The room around Zane shimmered — the polished floor warped into dirt, the walls into twisted trees. For a moment, Zane stood amidst a park filled with zombies, wandering aimlessly. But he stood there smiling, unfazed, until everything flickered back to normal.
Corvin chuckled. "Hahaha, sorry, sorry, Professor. It's a habit of mine — testing people."
Zane smiled back. "Understandable. Nice to meet you too."
As Corvin released his hand, he thought silently, He saw through it instantly… impressive.
Lucen rose from his chair, voice firm. "Enough introductions. Let's move to the interrogation chamber."
Everyone nodded — Zane, Corvin, the three professors, and Seris.
Seris led the way out, the tension in the room thickening as they headed toward the academy's underground facility where the prisoners waited.
She led Corvin and Zane into the interrogation wing. Five separate cells stood in a row, each a small room with a thick glass wall so the observers could watch without touching. Outside, Lucen, Seris, Varris, Iralyn and Mira formed a silent ring, watching through the glass.
Inside the first cell a man sat huddled—bruised, clothes torn, trembling. Heavy rune-forged cuffs clasped his wrists; Mira Sorenhal design lay across the metal like a lock—no mana could pass through them. He tried to move, but the cuffs held him rigid, siphoning away every spark of magic.
Corvin and Zane stepped in and closed the door behind them. Corvin's face softened for no one. He leaned close, voice like icicles. "Now—tell me everything. Speak easy, or you will suffer a pain that makes death look merciful."
A shaky breath. The man's voice came thin. "Please… please… I can't—" He visibly trembled.
Corvin sighed and his aura bled out—hazy purple mist curling around him. "Then I'll make it simple." He raised his hands and the air folded neatly into three glowing rings that appeared around the prisoner—runes spinning fast.
"Third Circle magic : Bone Breaker."
The three purple circles formed once, then vanished, but the effect hit like a fist. The man's whole body convulsed. He screamed—a ripping, animal sound that echoed down the corridor. "Ahhhhhhhh! Arrgghhh!"
Corvin's voice didn't change. "Who are you people?"
The man gagged, clutching at his limbs as if an invisible vise crushed his bones. "W—we are… V—" His words slurred; fear shredded them.
Black blood welled suddenly at his nose and mouth, dark and oily, slicking his lips. Corvin's brow creased. Zane remained still, expression flat.
The black blood began to pool at the corners of the man's eyes, then spurt from every orifice—nose, ears, mouth—staining his collar. He babbled, breath coming in stuttered gasps, "I don't want to die… I don't want to—"
He closed his eyes, and then, slow and terrible, mouthed words that sent a chill through even the watching professors:
"Glory to the Vassel."
His head ruptured like a rotten fruit—black blood and fragments sprayed outward. The spray hit the observation glass with sick wet sounds, but Corvin snapped a finger and a thin ward flickered between them; none of the dark fluid crossed the barrier. Zane's coat and Corvin's robes stayed clean.
Corvin looked up at Zane, surprise briefly flashing across his face before duty settled his jaw. "This is going to be… difficult." He licked his lips, voice low. "They're not ordinary assassins."
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