Chapter 136: The Quiet Before the Next Storm
The academy grounds felt strangely calm that morning. Word of Instructor Garron’s expulsion had spread through every corridor, every cafeteria line, every class whisper. Posters were quietly taken down. Announcements were made with carefully chosen words. The administration had moved fast to close the matter, and for most students, it was already fading into rumor again.
But for a few, the silence was heavier than before.
****
[Chase’s POV]
Chase Weaverake sat in the back corner of the east courtyard, his posture relaxed, legs stretched over the stone bench. A cigarette was tucked between his fingers, burning faintly against the wind. He wasn’t supposed to be smoking within academy grounds, but no one said anything. Most of the instructors knew better than to cross a Weaverake.
He exhaled slowly, watching the thin line of smoke drift upward before vanishing.
Everything had gone wrong. Garron’s dismissal wasn’t part of the plan. The man was supposed to handle Amelia quietly, make her reputation collapse and her career vanish beneath a mountain of scandal. Instead, the idiot got caught. Worse, Arios had somehow outplayed them without leaving his name anywhere on the final report.
Chase smirked faintly. "That bastard’s learning faster than I thought."
He flicked the cigarette away, stood, and turned toward the approaching footsteps. Regulus Torvin.
The boy had his head down, his face sharp with the kind of irritation that came from too many sleepless nights. Chase could see the tension in his shoulders. Regulus had lost everything—his dignity, his influence, even his spot among the top ranks of Class C.
Chase leaned back against the bench, arms crossed. "You’re late."
Regulus stopped a few feet away. "You didn’t say it was urgent."
Chase grinned. "If I have to tell you when something’s urgent, then you’ve already lost the game."
Regulus didn’t respond. He kept his eyes down, his tone steady. "What now? Garron’s gone, Amelia’s name is cleared, and Class D’s image is better than ever. You said we’d make them collapse before the next evaluation."
"I did," Chase said, his grin fading. "And we still will."
****
[Regulus’s POV]
He hated this. Every word that came out of Chase’s mouth made his stomach twist, but there was no choice left. Ever since the fight in the training yard—since Arios humiliated him without even trying—he’d been stuck. The student council had suspended him for three weeks, stripped him of his privileges, and his classmates had started whispering behind his back.
He had always been proud. Always calculated. But standing next to Chase felt like standing next to a wall that couldn’t be moved. Chase didn’t care about rules, reputation, or punishment.
"What’s your plan then?" Regulus asked. "You’ve already lost your leverage over Garron. You think you can touch Arios now?"
Chase tilted his head, studying him like someone examining a piece of broken equipment. "Touch Arios? No. Not yet. But I can make him move."
Regulus frowned. "Meaning?"
"I’ll give him a reason to act. He’s not the type who starts fights—he finishes them. So we’ll create the right kind of pressure. Not on him directly... but on the people around him."
Regulus clenched his fists. "You’re going to target the girls."
"Call it strategy," Chase replied. "He can’t protect everyone. And if we make enough noise, the council will have to step in again. This time, I’ll make sure it doesn’t end in another quiet expulsion."
Regulus looked away, jaw tight. There was something sickening about how calm Chase sounded, how casual his words were. "You talk like the whole school is your chessboard."
Chase chuckled. "It is. I just happen to play better than most."
Regulus wanted to punch him, but the thought of losing again—of becoming a laughingstock one more time—kept him still.
****
[Chase’s POV]
He could read the anger all over Regulus’s face. That kind of emotion was useful—predictable. Controlled rage was one of the easiest things to manipulate.
"You’ll help me," Chase said flatly. "You owe me that much."
Regulus glared. "For what? For dragging me into your mess?"
"For saving your pathetic face after Garron folded." Chase stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You think anyone in Class C would’ve taken you back if I hadn’t intervened? You’d be expelled, Torvin. You’d be begging for a transfer to some third-rate academy outside the capital."
Regulus said nothing.
Chase smirked again. "Don’t mistake survival for choice. You’ll act when I tell you to."
He turned away, brushing past Regulus as if he were nothing more than background noise. "Start paying attention to the new evaluation criteria. I hear the academy’s adjusting the system. Points will matter more than grades this time. And guess who’s going to make sure Class D stays at the bottom?"
Regulus didn’t answer. He just stood there, staring after Chase until he disappeared down the hallway.
****
[Regulus’s POV]
He remained there for a while. The courtyard was empty now, the faint sound of wind moving through the trees.
Part of him wanted to walk away from all of it. Chase’s schemes, the humiliation, the endless cycle of losing and being told to wait for another plan. But when he thought about Arios—the calm, unshaken way the boy looked at him during their fight—something inside him twisted.
He couldn’t let that be the end of it.
He turned toward the academy building, the faint lights glowing from the upper floors. Class D was still going about their usual training and assignments. He could hear the faint noise of laughter, the sound of people who didn’t have to worry about reputation or noble bloodlines.
His fists clenched again. "We’re not done," he muttered under his breath.
****
[Arios’s POV]
The library was quieter than usual. Most students had already returned to their dorms, and only the faint scratching of quills and turning pages filled the air. Arios sat at a corner table, a half-read text on mana resonance in front of him, though his mind wasn’t really on the page.
He leaned back slightly, eyes unfocused.
The last few days had moved faster than he expected. Garron’s expulsion, Amelia’s reinstatement, the shift in class dynamics—everything felt like a storm that had passed, but he could still sense the humidity in the air, the tension that meant it wasn’t really over.
He thought back to what Damian had said during the council meeting: *One storm has passed, but the year has only begun.*
It wasn’t just a warning—it was a promise.
Arios sighed quietly, closing the book. Across from him, Lucy and Liza were discussing something in low tones. Lucy’s voice was soft but impatient; Liza’s had that teasing tone she always used when she was trying to get under Lucy’s skin.
"Are you even listening?" Lucy asked, noticing his blank stare.
Arios smiled faintly. "Somewhat. You were saying something about food?"
"Not food," Liza replied, grinning. "I said we should all skip tomorrow’s study block and actually relax for once. Maybe the café near the lake."
Lucy frowned. "You just want to eat their cream buns again."
"Guilty," Liza said, unbothered.
Arios leaned back, watching the two of them bicker lightly. It was moments like this that reminded him of what normal felt like. Between the accusations, the politics, and the power plays, these small pieces of peace were worth more than most people realized.
Still, the unease wouldn’t leave him.
He glanced out the window, eyes narrowing slightly as he saw movement in the courtyard below. Two figures. One tall, one shorter. He couldn’t make out the words, but the posture was familiar. Chase and Regulus.
Arios’s hand tightened around the edge of the book.
---
Chase walked through the north corridor, his expression calm but his mind already mapping the next move.
Amelia’s case was done, but the ripples it left behind were perfect. The student body was divided—half relieved, half suspicious. And that meant he could stir them again when the time was right.
He had Regulus. He had resources. And most importantly, he had time.
If Garron’s failure had taught him anything, it was that brute force didn’t work against Arios Pureheart. The boy wasn’t strong just because of his mana or skills; he was strong because he was disciplined. Predictable in the right ways, careful in the wrong ones.
All Chase needed was to find the crack in that discipline.
He smiled faintly as he walked past a pair of first-years who quickly bowed their heads when they saw him. Fear was still useful currency.
At the far end of the hall, one of his informants waited—a second-year girl with quick eyes and a steady voice. "Lord Weaverake," she said softly. "I’ve confirmed that Class D’s next assignment will be a collaborative field study. Two instructors will be supervising—Amelia and Instructor Varne."
"Varne," Chase repeated. "The one who handles mana synchronization drills?"
She nodded.
He smiled. "Perfect. I might just pay a visit."
Later that night, Arios returned to his dorm. The quiet of the halls had settled in, most students already asleep or studying behind closed doors. Lucy and Liza had gone back to their own dorms for the night.
Arios sat by the window for a long time, the moonlight cutting faintly across the desk.
He knew he couldn’t relax yet. Garron had been expelled, yes—but someone like Chase wouldn’t just sit still after losing a piece on his board. Arios didn’t have proof yet, but every instinct told him the game was still going on.
He glanced at the faint glow of his system interface hovering at the edge of his vision. No new quests, no new alerts. Just silence.
It almost felt mocking.
He turned his gaze back out toward the courtyard. The wind rustled the academy flags. Everything looked peaceful.
But Arios had seen enough to know that peace here never lasted long.
He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes briefly. "So this is how it starts again," he murmured to himself.
Then,
The academy slept. But in its shadows, plans were already being drawn again—some born from ambition, others from vengeance.
And in the quiet between them, Arios Pureheart prepared for the next storm.