“Another Summoner?”

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Chapter 36: Teacher’s Pet?

Lisa’s eyes widened, a flicker of genuine shock piercing through her usual academic poise. For weeks, she had dismissed the man sitting in the back of her classroom as a mere rogue—a charming, silver-tongued opportunist who skated through life on a mixture of dumb luck and raw talent.

She hadn’t expected this level of insight.

"Yes..." Lisa murmured, her voice carrying a newfound weight as she looked at him. "The soul is the absolute law of Myst. Everything in our world, fundamentally, revolves around the strength and nature of our souls. Excellent work, Count Sky. I confess, I have incredibly high hopes for you."

Eager to push the momentum of the lecture and test the rest of the class, Lisa turned back to the podium. She wanted to throw them a curveball—something buried far beneath the surface of their standard textbooks.

"Now, let us think critically," she said, leaning against her desk. "If a Secret Realm strictly suppresses and limits the tier of Circles that can cross its threshold, how is it possible that a more powerful being from the outside world could still be found roaming within it? Anyone?"

Near the front row, a young Knight student shifted in his seat. He had clearly only taken this introductory magic theory class to better understand Mages—and, more realistically, to pick up girls. Raising a hand with a confident grin, he offered a guess. "A third-Circle monster evolving into a fourth-Circle beast while inside?"

"A reasonable hypothesis," Lisa nodded, though her expression remained neutral. "In incredibly rare, catastrophic circumstances, it can happen. But the reality of Myst is rarely that simple. No."

She turned to write on the blackboard, her chalk tapping sharply against the slate. "All monsters, wildlife, and native fauna are effectively set in stone the moment they are born within a Secret Realm. They are bound entirely to its specific, isolated ecosystem. Tragically, these creatures can never naturally advance their tiers unless they are physically extracted from the realm by outsiders like ourselves. Does anyone else have a guess?"

Loki leaned back in his chair, a wry smirk tugging at his lips. His mind immediately drifted to the countless Chinese cultivation web novels he used to binge back on Earth. In those stories, there were always arrogant old monsters who would purposefully suppress their cultivation bases for centuries just so they could sneak into a pocket realm, bully the younger generation, and act like absolute bastards.

He raised his hand.

"Teacher Swallow," Loki said, his voice cutting through the quiet murmurs of the classroom. "I believe that if a Knight or a Mage has trained their body or magic to the absolute limit of their current tier, they could smuggle a high-grade magic core or a breakthrough elixir inside. Once they pass the initial boundary, they could ingest it to force a breakthrough right there in the realm, hitting the fourth—or perhaps even the fifth—Circle."

He paused, offering an easy, careless shrug. "It's just a theory, of course, since I haven't personally witnessed it. But logically, it mirrors the mechanics of a Summoner. When an entity enters, the Secret Realm's array only screens the initial weight of their soul. It doesn't account for rapid growth once the door is shut."

Clap. Clap.

Lisa broke into a radiant smile, giving two crisp, appreciative claps.

"You hit the nail precisely on the head, Count Sky," she said, her eyes shining. "This exact maneuver is a notoriously common practice among the Cultivation Sects of the Eastern Wastelands. They utilize this loophole to ambush our forces within the realms, slaughtering rivals, seizing high-tier magic cores, and plundering rare herbs. It is a bloody business."

Sighing softly, Lisa pulled her gaze away from Loki and began sketching a massive, sprawling diagram on the board.

"Let us discuss the transit lines—the ways into and out of these domains," she continued. "The World Tree, anchored firmly within the Elven Kingdom, extends its roots across the entirety of Myst. However, its most exposed root systems are concentrated in the Central Sea region, skirting the shores of the Demonic Beast Forest and brushing against the Infinite Sky Mountains and the Undead Lands. The portals to the twelve Elemental Planes and various Secret Realms are physically tethered to these roots."

She tapped a specific junction on her map.

"Take the Royal Realm, for instance. It possesses multiple portals along the World Tree's root network. The Eastern Cultivators command an entrance near their borders, the Elves hold a prominent one, and our Kingdom controls another. With three distinct entry points into a single, resource-rich territory, bloody conflicts are inevitable whenever the realm opens."

Lisa wiped her hands free of chalk dust. "The Royal Realm is remarkably stable, opening its portals for exactly one month, once a year. If you fail to cross back through the portal before that month expires, you will be trapped inside until the next cycle. I strongly advise against testing your luck.

While realm collapse is rare, it is always a distinct possibility. Secret Realms are, by their very nature, temporary pocket dimensions floating alongside their parent world."

She noticed the slight tension in the room and offered a reassuring wave of her hand. "But fear not for your lives. If a realm does destabilize and close, any soul that does not natively belong to that space is automatically repelled and pushed out of the collapsing portal. Unfortunately..." Her tone dropped, turning somber. "...any physical treasures, lifeforms, or inanimate objects brought from the outside world will be cast directly into the void of space, ceasing to exist. A absolute, final end."

Loki’s modern, chaotic Earth-novel-reader brain instantly began spinning with a dozen new hypothetical scenarios. Driven by sheer curiosity, he raised his hand again.

Lisa, who had assumed she wrapped up the topic perfectly, blinked in surprise when she saw him taking diligent notes before immediately seeking more answers. A look of deep appreciation softened her features. "Yes, Count Sky?"

"The name 'Royal Realm' is universally recognized," Loki pointed out. "But what was the historical catalyst behind that title? What is the real reason it's named that?"

As the personal student of the Seventh Queen Breeze—who was an Elf herself—Lisa possessed an intimate, unfiltered understanding of the realm’s hidden history. She smiled warmly at him before addressing the entire class.

"Long before humanity established the unified Kingdom we reside in today, our people were nothing more than fractured, warring tribes and wandering states," Lisa explained, her voice dropping into a storytelling cadence. "During that era, a brilliant, rising human Hero entered the Secret Realm before he had even achieved the fourth Circle. While the exact details of his journey have been distorted by centuries of myth, the core of the tale is a romance. He met a beautiful Elven Princess inside the realm."

The class listened in rapt silence.

"The two fought side-by-side against terrible foes, survived the harsh wilderness, and ultimately fell deeply in love," Lisa said softly. "A year later, the Elven Princess gave birth to a son. Shortly after, the human Hero was given the child while she vanished from history entirely. Most scholars believe she was either imprisoned, executed, or forcibly married off by the Elven royalty to preserve their bloodline. The Princess was never permitted to see her child grow up—a child who would eventually conquer the fractured tribes and become the first ruler of our nation: King Luke Balder I."

(Unbeknownst to the world, the First King was actually the reincarnation of the Norse god Baldr from Earth, who had been indirectly orchestrated to die by the god Loki.)

Loki had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Hearing the grand, legendary name of 'Luke' was hilarious to him, considering that had been his exact name back on Earth. Shaking off the irony, he focused on the political landscape and raised his hand for a follow-up.

"If that's the case," Loki mused aloud, "I’m guessing the birth and sudden rise of King Luke Balder I—the world’s very first male Death Mage, and the founder of the Balder Kingdom—is a massive, historical sore spot for the Elven race. Is that why our current diplomatic relations with them are strenuous at best?"

Beside the podium, Lisa’s heart violently skipped a beat.

A cold sweat broke out across her back. Loki’s uncanny, pinpoint precision regarding ancient political rivalries wasn't just impressive anymore—it was terrifying. For a split second, looking at the casual, calculating smirk on Loki's face, she felt an overwhelming sense of vertigo. It was as if the shadow of King Owen himself was overlapping with the young man before her.

Now I understand, Lisa thought, her breath catching in her throat. Now I understand why my teacher stepped in regarding Loki Sky. Why she was willing to completely shut down Ayala's advances just to protect him... King Owen must be personally watching over this boy!

A wave of primal fear washed over her. She cast a frantic, subtle glance toward the corners of the classroom, half-expecting to see those legendary, terrifying yellow eyes staring back at her from the darkness of the shadows. She swallowed hard, her throat bone-dry.

If King Owen was actively shielding Loki from the dark, her previous antagonistic actions toward the boy weren't just petty—they were practically a suicide note.

Forcing her racing heart to calm down, Lisa made a silent, ironclad vow to herself. She would never, under any circumstances, cause trouble for Loki Sky again. Even if it meant her family's looming scandals were leaked to the public, she would not cross him.

"You... you are very likely correct in your speculations," Lisa managed to say, her voice trembling slightly before she pulled herself together. "Though officially, because so much time has passed, there is no formal proof. Now, let us move on to the practical matters of supplies and safety precautions..."

For the remainder of the afternoon, Lisa’s demeanor underwent a drastic shift. She actively avoided picking on Loki out of malice, instead turning to him with blatant, unprompted favoritism whenever a difficult question arose. It was a change in dynamic that thoroughly annoyed the rest of the students, who sat in sullen silence, entirely unable to match his answers.

As the bell rang and the classroom began to empty, Loki gathered his things and slung his bag over his shoulder.

"Count Sky," Lisa’s voice called out gently, stopping him near the threshold. "Could I speak with you for just a moment before you leave?"

Loki paused, turning to look down at the mature, elegant woman standing before him. She possessed the distinct, comforting aura of a refined older sister. He nodded easily. "Sure. What's on your mind, Teacher?"

"It has been decades since I’ve had a student as bright and perceptive as you in my lecture," Lisa said, a soft, genuine smile returning to her face.

"Would you consider coming to class more often? I have countless insights and advanced techniques to share that the standard curriculum completely glosses over. Besides, with you answering so sharply, the others actually tried a bit harder today. Teaching is the only true joy I have left in this life... having you here truly made my day brighter."

Loki rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a brief pang of guilt. "Actually... I realized earlier that I crossed a pretty rude line when I brought up the name 'Mrs. Swallow' and made that joke about the slap. I was still a bit tipsy from earlier. I'm sorry about that."

The warmth in Lisa’s smile fractured, her eyes dimming with a profound, lingering sorrow. The mention of her title clearly struck a painful nerve.

"I am a widow," she confessed quietly, her voice laced with years of exhaustion. "I was only eighteen when I was forced into a political marriage with James Sky, the nephew of Marquess Sky. It was a miserable arrangement. That marriage was the sole reason my father was exiled from the capital to serve as a Count in the provinces."

She leaned against the edge of her desk, staring blankly at the floor. "James was an aura-less man. He died exactly two days after our wedding. His sudden death is the reason the Sky family and my father became bitter, adversarial enemies. I’m... only telling you this because you married Sylvia Sky, and James was her direct cousin."

Loki’s mind, sharp and hyper-analytical from a lifetime of reading complex political thrillers, immediately began connecting the dots. A dozen historical plots, regional schemes, and intuitive hunches flashed through his thoughts. He looked at her, his expression turning serious as he asked a direct, somewhat blunt question.

"I understand. Then... just to be clear, and I'm not trying to pry... did you have any prior knowledge of his death? Did you participate in it, or know it was going to happen?"

Lisa’s face drained of color, turning stark white. "It happened the morning after our wedding night," she whispered, her hands trembling slightly. "I was locked away in my meditation chamber, actively forming my magic core when he passed. I had absolutely no idea it would happen. For all our lack of love, murdering my own husband is not something I am capable of... But a few years later, I accidentally overheard a conversation between my father and a mysterious woman. That was when I discovered James had been murdered."

She looked up at Loki, desperation gleaming in her eyes. "I don’t know her true identity, but that woman is far too powerful for anyone in our position to provoke. The only thing I am guilty of is covering up the evidence to protect my father. I tried to find definitive proof to clear his name, but that woman holds all the cards. The evidence she possesses points entirely to my father—even though he swore to me that he didn't kill James, and that it was executed by the people in the Count's territory directly under his command."

It all makes sense now! Loki thought, a cold, ruthless clarity settling over him.

Vali’s mother wanted nothing more than to orchestrate a devastating civil war between the North Duchy and the Crown. She was quietly cultivating a faction of fanatically loyal zealots under her command, all to pave a bloody path for Vali to take the throne. And Vali himself was the biggest joke of all—the dense fool didn't even realize he was nothing more than a glorified puppet being pulled along by a string.

"So," Loki murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "the real mastermind behind the curtain is Queen Angelica, huh?"

Whoosh! Smack!

Lisa went entirely pale with terror. Moving with a burst of frantic, panicked speed, she leapt forward and forcefully slammed her hand over Loki’s mouth, cutting off his words before they could echo into the empty corridor.

"Stop!" she hissed, her eyes darting wildly toward the doorway. "Do not speak that name aloud without absolute, undeniable proof! If she ever catches wind of what you just said, we are both as good as dead! I knew I shouldn't have opened up to you... you are entirely too smart for your own good!"

Loki didn't flinch. Instead, a broad, amused smirk spread across his face, his eyes crinkling with genuine entertainment. Watching his completely unbothered, fearless reaction beneath her palm, Lisa realized with a jolt of bewilderment that this man wasn't a single bit afraid of death—or the Queen.

Slowly, she let her hand fall away from his face, exhaling a long, shaky breath.

"Alright, calm down, Teacher Lisa," Loki chuckled, adjusting his collar. "I get it. But look at the bright side—now that you've told me the truth regarding your lack of involvement, we can officially be friends. Of course, you still need to properly apologize to Sylvia and stop doing stupid favors for Vali."

Lisa let out a weak, relieved breath. "Thank you, Loki."

"Or," Loki grinned, his eyes flashing with a sudden, mischievous glint as he adopted a cartoonish, villainous persona, "I could just use this massive secret to blackmail you for absolute, unearned special treatment in class! Mwahahaha!"

Lisa froze solid, her heart dropping into her stomach as she stared at him, genuinely believing for a horrific second that she had just been ruthlessly betrayed. Tears began to well up at the corners of her eyes.

"Hey, it's a joke! I was joking, damn it, woman," Loki quickly muttered, waving his hands defensively as his villainous facade crumbled. "I would never actually blackmail you like that. I only blackmail bad people, not good ones. Sheesh... sorry."

Pat.

Lisa’s hand rose to his cheek, pausing for a fraction of a second before she softly slapped his face in a display of mock, exasperated anger. "You are incorrigible."

Loki gave her a lazy, backward wave of his hand as he turned toward the exit, feeling a faint trace of pity for the burdens she carried. "I'll make sure to show up for more of your lectures. They aren't half bad, honestly. See you later."

Lisa stood by the podium, watching his retreating figure. It was the second time she had watched him swagger out of her sight, casually shoving his hands deep into his pockets. But this time, watching his relaxed stride, she didn't find it annoying at all.

Creak—Thud!

The heavy wooden front door of Loki’s estate swung open, and before he could even step past the threshold, he was violently ambushed.

A soft, curvaceous weight slammed directly into his chest, accompanied by the sweet, intoxicating scent of fresh apple perfume. As his vision cleared from the sudden faceful of a very generous cleavage, he looked down to see a cascade of familiar, pristine white hair.

"My wife? Shade?!" Loki gasped, his arms instantly wrapping around her waist. "How on earth did you get here? Is the airship in the courtyard? I didn't see or hear it arrive at all!"

"Mwah!"

Shade was entirely too ecstatic to bother answering his questions. Instead, she leaned up and captured his lips in a fierce, deeply passionate kiss that left them both breathless.

From the side of the adjacent living room, Thorin stood leaning against a pillar, offering a kind, knowing wave. "Sister Sylvia, it is wonderful to see the two of you here safely."

Hearing Thorin’s voice, Shade’s striking blue eyes sparkled with mischief as she finally broke the kiss and reluctantly let Loki go, stepping back with a radiant flush on her cheeks.

Sitting elegantly on the plush velvet sofa in the center of the room, one slender leg crossed gracefully over the other, Sylvia smiled warmly at him. She held a steaming, delicate porcelain cup of tea in her hands, her demeanor the literal definition of noble poise.

"Shade and I originally sat down to write you a series of letters," Sylvia explained, her laughter like ringing bells as she met his stunned gaze. "But halfway through, we decided it would be much faster to just bring the letters to you ourselves. Surprise, Husband!"

Loki felt a sudden, profound warmth swell in his chest, his eyes growing faintly misty. He had missed these two incredible women more than he realized. Stepping away from the door, he walked toward them, completely speechless as Sylvia set her teacup down and stood up to welcome him home.

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