Chapter 91
The students poured out of the lecture hall like water through a ruptured dam, the atmosphere buzzing with a frantic, electrified energy.
Christina quietly gathered her textbooks. When she finally looked up, she saw her usual four-person clique waiting for her by the door. After days of suffocating tension, they were actually standing together in silence.
"So, what are you going to do?"
Mona's voice piped up before Christina even reached them, chirping like a rapid-fire canary. "I still don't entirely agree with Professor Tempest's philosophy, but I actually understand whyAmoston and the others wanted you to inherit a Crest now. Seriously, are you really not going to reconsider?"
"Wow. Flipping sides already?" Christina tapped Mona lightly on the forehead, then turned to face the boys. "And what about you two? What do you think?"
Amoston, the German prodigy who had frozen the water cup days prior, stood with his arms crossed, looking deeply conflicted.
Beside him stood the fourth member of their group. A blonde-haired boy from a minor branch of the Gaiusling faction.
Initially, Amoston had looked down on him, but the blonde boy was impossible to ignore. He possessed a rather frivolous, carefree personality, but his combat style was anything but a joke. Unlike Amoston, who was a genius at conceptual element-shifting like flash-freezing water, the blonde boy was completely clueless when it came to complex theory. But raw fluid manipulation? He was a savant.
He fought by turning water into high-pressure, omnipresent cutting blades. He was a complete battle maniac, so violently suited for close-quarters combat that his own father regularly joked he should have been sent to the Church's Burial Agency instead of the Clock Tower. He possessed the absolute worst theoretical grades and Workshop-building skills in their group, but in a one-on-one deathmatch, he was a monster.
Because he hailed from the Gaiusling faction, he knew more about Rimuru's real-world exploits than any of them. He knew Professor Tempest's hydro-mancy wasn't just "artistic"; it was a weapon of mass destruction. Obsessed with Rimuru's combat style, the boy had desperately tried to become his formal apprentice.
Unfortunately, Rimuru's waitlist was permanently closed. Rebuffed, the blonde boy had simply latched onto Christina's group to stay close to the Professor's inner circle.
And his name was…
…
"An interesting bit of rhetoric."
The Academic City of the Spiritual Evocation Department was steeped in the macabre. The gothic architecture leaned heavily into religious occultism, casting long, chilling shadows over every cobblestone street.
Deep inside a heavily warded laboratory, several nameless wraiths wailed as they battered themselves against the glass of a containment vessel. A staggering array of spiritual mediums and catalysts sat on the shelves behind them.
Standing over the vessel was Lord Rufleus Nuada-Re Eulyphis. His face was gaunt, pallid, and deeply lined, looking more like an ancient necromancer than a politician. He casually banished the screaming spirits with a flick of his withered hand.
"The boy is mistaken," Rufleus rasped, his voice echoing in the gloom. "It is not that magi are overly traditional. It is that Magecraft is tradition."
"Indeed. Many spout empty praises for the Modern Magecraft department, but thus far, practically no one has been willing to step in and actually clean up that mess."
A polished, arrogant voice drifted from the doorway.
Kayneth stepped into the laboratory, his posture impeccable. "It's a calculated political stunt. A roundabout method to secure the fanatical backing of the commoner students. I can see the raw ambition and pride buried in his bones."
"He and I are cut from the same cloth. Though he appears to possess a bit more patience."
"Tempest has experienced a reality you have not, Kayneth," Rufleus noted slowly, turning away from his workstation. He frowned, meticulously wiping spiritual residue from his hands. "He knows the bitter taste of a fallen lineage. And once you officially inherit the El-Melloi seat… you never will."
Kayneth arched a brow. He didn't say a word, but his silence spoke volumes. He knew exactly what his mentor meant, but frankly? If a magus allowed their family lineage to be wiped out, Kayneth considered them nothing but a failure. To him, weakness was not an excuse.
Rufleus caught the subtle shift in his student's expression. The ancient Lord's face darkened slightly.
No victor holds the crown forever.
Kayneth was a razor-sharp blade, but he was entirely too exposed. His abrasive arrogance was the exact opposite of Rimuru's smooth, diplomatic maneuvering. Deep down, they shared the exact same ruthless drive for success, but in a direct clash of personalities… Rufleus suspected Kayneth might actually take a loss against the younger Lord.
Pride comes before the fall.
Still, Rufleus kept the thought to himself. Kayneth wouldn't listen to a lecture on humility anyway, and truthfully, the boy had the raw genius to back up his ego. Rufleus was immensely proud of his successor.
More importantly, the Tempest faction was technically aligned with the Aristocratic bloc. Rimuru wasn't inherently an enemy. But his extremely close ties to Riddell Archelot threatened to destabilize Rufleus's absolute grip on the faction's leadership.
"I certainly didn't expect his promotion to Professor to go through so smoothly," Rufleus grumbled, his voice turning incredibly sour. "Those old foxes in the Three Great Families must have struck a backroom deal without me."
It was an infuriating political reality. Of the Three Great Families that stood at the absolute apex of the Twelve Lords, two belonged to the Democratic Faction. The sole Aristocratic pillar among them, the Barthomeloi family, had taken a neutral stance by assuming the role of the Dean's Assistant, distancing themselves from factional squabbles.
This technically left Rufleus as the de facto leader of the Aristocratic Faction, giving him the power to counterbalance the Democrats.
So why the hell had those two Democratic foxes immediately spearheaded Rimuru Tempest's promotion?
They had forced Rufleus into a corner. He became the sole roadblock to the boy's success. When Rufleus eventually had to sign off on the promotion to maintain faction unity, it didn't look like a favor. It looked like he had been grudgingly strong-armed into it.
I was completely played.
Rufleus ground his teeth just thinking about it. Handing out a favor when someone doesn't need it is worthless; he had been robbed of the chance to be Rimuru's patron.
Having finally finished cleaning up his rather unsuccessful spiritual experiment, Rufleus turned fully toward Kayneth. He had no desire to stew over Rimuru's political maneuvering any longer.
"Regarding the Grand Resolution…" Rufleus said, his tone shifting into absolute authority. "You will accompany me."
"It would be my utmost honor, Professor," Kayneth nodded deeply.
As a prodigy and heir, Kayneth technically held the right to attend the Grand Resolution on his own. But walking in alone was vastly different from walking in as the right hand of Lord Eulyphis.
….
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