Chapter 93: Breakfast with a Murderous Smile
Morning sunlight flooded the eleventh-floor dining lounge of the Spire, reflecting off polished marble floors and silver serving trays. It was a room built to celebrate the elite, but as Alex crossed the threshold, all he felt was the dull, throbbing ache radiating from his right hand. The fresh white linen wrapped around his palm remained completely hidden beneath the long, tailored sleeve of his uniform jacket, but the lingering heat of the Arc-Cannon still throbbed through his damaged mana flow.
He approached the large mahogany table claimed by the Magic Department's first-years, immediately noticing the quiet tension around the porcelain teacups.
Emma sat near the head of the table. She had arrived early, her posture immaculate, and had deliberately arranged the seating so that she occupied the chair directly to the right of Alex's empty place—the exact spot Maya usually claimed for herself.
Maya sat directly across the table instead. Her uniform blouse, missing several buttons from the previous night, was pinned and styled differently to hide the damage. Rather than glaring or sparking her mana in a display of territorial anger, Maya simply picked up her teacup and took a quiet sip. She accepted the physical distance without a fight.
Emma's smile widened, but it didn't feel genuine. Maya's sudden restraint made her infinitely more suspicious than a shouting match would have. Alex pulled his chair out with his uninjured left hand and sat, picking up on it immediately. Maya wasn't retreating; she was protecting his secret. A public argument might draw attention to the slight stiffness in his posture or the way he kept his right arm resting carefully on his lap.
Before anyone said something reckless, Alicia dropped into the chair next to Emma. She rested her elbows on the table and pressed the heels of her hands against her temples, wincing at the clatter of silverware.
"If anyone speaks above a whisper, I will set their breakfast on fire," Alicia muttered, her dark eyes narrowing at the bright sunlight. The contraband liquor she had secured the night before had clearly left its mark.
"You should have metabolized the toxins before sleeping," Emily said, taking the seat beside Maya. She didn't look at Alicia. Her sharp gaze stayed locked on Alex. She pulled a leather-bound notebook from her pocket and placed it beside her plate. "I have filed a formal request with the department. I will be observing every practical test of your Kinetic Resonance moving forward. Until I understand what let you catch that shot when my glacier failed, I refuse to accept the results of the evaluation."
"You can analyze the math all you want," Martin said, looking slightly green as he pushed a plate of eggs away. "The Knight Department is furious. I walked past their wing this morning, and they were looking at us like we were training dummies. You didn't just win a spot, Alex. You humiliated their heavy artillery."
"As you should have," Ariana chimed in, lifting her chin with absolute aristocratic authority. "But being selected as the Champion means you carry the reputation of the entire Magic Department now. You are required to train all of us. If you fail the final duel, you drag our names down with you."
Ren pulled out a chair next to Martin, his movements carrying the effortless grace of his hidden royal bloodline. Despite being publicly outclassed during the Spire evaluation, his composure was flawless. He looked across the table at Alex, offering a genuine, competitive nod. "Ariana is right. And when you begin those sessions, I want to join any close-range drills you run. My shield work clearly isn't enough anymore."
"We will structure a schedule," Alex said smoothly, keeping his voice steady despite how tired he felt. "Once Professor Cassandra finalizes the—"
The heavy oak doors of the dining lounge swung open, cutting him off.
Director Maelor Vane stepped into the room. The senior administrator responsible for the Spire's barriers and tournament records was a man who was easy to overlook. His gray robes were perfectly pressed, his expression mild, almost too pleasant. He was efficient, unassuming, and entirely difficult to read.
The chatter in the lounge died down as Maelor approached their table, carrying a small, lead-lined containment box.
"Good morning, students," Maelor said in a calm, measured voice. "I apologize for the interruption, but I wanted to personally extend my regrets to you, Mr. Edelhart. The unauthorized fourth shot from the Arc-Cannon was a severe breach of protocol. A mistake in the barrier timing let the construct overcharge."
"It provided a useful test," Alex replied neutrally, watching the man's hands.
"Indeed it did," Maelor said with a polite, practiced smile. "However, as a matter of protocol, I am personally collecting the Arc-Cannon's telemetry crystal from the testing floor. Your mana spike during the final impact wasn't normal. The Imperial Inquisition keeps a close watch on unexplained power spikes, and they may request the crystal to ensure no… unregistered relics were utilized."
The threat was hidden beneath polite words so most of the table didn't even notice it, but Alex felt the subtle edge. Maelor bowed his head slightly, turned, and exited the lounge with the same unhurried pace.
As the doors closed, Emma reached into the pocket of her uniform skirt.
She placed her hand flat on the polished mahogany table and slowly slid a small, white object across the wood. It stopped directly in front of Maya's plate. It was the missing button from Maya's torn blouse.
"I believe you dropped this in the corridor," Emma said, her voice soft, but sharp underneath. "Did you sleep comfortably last night, Maya?"
Maya didn't flinch. She picked up the button, inspecting it with feigned casualness. "I did. The button caught on a stone ledge during the tower climb. The Spire is quite rough on uniforms."
Emma's smile remained fixed, but the mood around her turned cold.
"Professor Cassandra," Alex said loudly, cutting in before it could escalate as the combat instructor walked into the dining lounge holding a clipboard. "When does official department training begin?"
Emma's gaze flicked toward Alex. She paused for a brief moment before pulling her hand back to her lap, dropping the subject. But beneath the table, her fingers closed around her napkin, gripping it hard enough to bend the silver ring holding it.
Cassandra didn't have a chance to answer. Sophie, the Vanguard Stars guildmaster, stepped out from behind the instructor, her sharp eyes locking onto Alex. She didn't look impressed by the suddenly quiet room or the awed stares of the first-years.
"Never mind the class schedule," Sophie interrupted, tapping a silver pocket watch. "Report to the Vanguard Stars guest office in exactly one hour, Edelhart."
She leaned down, her voice dropping low enough that only the table could hear her final command.
"And bring the truth about that hand," Sophie whispered, her eyes narrowing slightly, like she already knew. "Not the performance you gave the students."