Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Chapter 51

At nightfall, in the capital residence of the Duke of Saxony.

“Is it possible that my only function here is to watch over a group of infants?”

Dale was meditating in his quarters with his legs crossed, reflecting after several days filled with mindless uproar.

It was implausible that the Crimson Duke had summoned him to the Imperial Academy for such an insignificant reason. In his mind, he relived the attack of the dozen Purifiers who had ambushed his riders by the Saxon River. They were extremists capable of immolating themselves without the slightest hesitation.

In contrast, the young aristocrats of the Imperial Academy were mere apprentices with an absurd naivety. They took it for granted that they would end up joining the ranks of the Red Tower as the magical pinnacle of the Empire, completely ignoring their role as puppets.

“In short, they are little ones ignorant of earthly reality.”

As Dale pondered this, he turned his face. Just then, there was a knock at the door.

Knock, knock.

“Dale.”

A voice spoke that he recognized immediately.

“Professor Sepia?”

“May I come in for a moment?”

The young man felt his heart jump and his breath catch in his lungs upon hearing that Sepia wanted to enter his private room.

“Go ahead, come in.”

He answered abruptly, devoid of doubt.

The moment Sepia cautiously crossed the threshold, Dale held his breath.

She was wearing a light-colored silk nightgown enhanced with dark lace. Her crystalline-toned hair, still wet, fell carelessly over her shoulders. The delicacy of her snow-white skin was subtly hinted at under the fabric.

“… Cough, cough.”

Noticing the fascination in Dale’s eyes, Sepia’s cheeks took on a slight crimson hue.

“I just came out of the bath and intended to wear something else, but I realized I lacked appropriate clothing.”

Forcing an intentional cough, the elf sat on the edge of the bed, very close to Dale.

A silence full of tension took hold of the space.

“… I am grateful that you have come with me to the capital.”

Dale expressed, measuring his words to break the ice.

“Think nothing of it.”

Sepia regained her calm and showed an affectionate gesture.

“Have the academic lessons been to your liking?”

“They have no point of comparison with what you have taught me, Professor Sepia.”

Dale commented, showing a cunning smile. She responded with a tender gesture before silence took over the room again.

“… That day.”

Sepia began this time, interrupting the stillness.

“I sensed the affliction in your gaze after the fall of your men.”

She paused before continuing.

“I failed to provide you with the necessary shelter against the assault of the Purifiers.”

Although she invoked an icy blizzard over the mounted orc troops and released a dissonant blue resonance, the sorceress barely managed to save Dale at the very last second. That was far from the true potential possessed by an elven sixth-circle specialist.

“Avoid bearing that guilt.”

Dale shook his head calmly.

“You saved my life; the loss of the Saxon blades rests on my shoulders.”

“Not at all.”

She contradicted with a slight sway of her head.

“I committed to staying by your side.”

She stretched out her arm to interlace her fingers with the young man’s.

“My intention went beyond physical protection.”

” …?”

She held Dale’s hand firmly.

“The only thing I wish is to drive away your melancholy.”

“Professor Sepia…”

He murmured, perceiving how the snow elf’s warmth was transmitted through his skin.

“It is indecipherable to me how a person of your young age harbors such a desolate internal landscape.”

Although both sorcerers became intertwined and vibrated in tune with each other’s realities, understanding that her emotions were born precisely from brushing against the mental universe of Dale did not diminish what she felt. Sepia made an effort to contain the immense tenderness and attachment that overflowed from her, manifesting unconditional and pure affection toward Dale. It was the task she imposed on herself from the instant she contemplated the interior plane of that young man.

At the same time, at the residence of Count Walter.

Leonard arrived from the vice district, mired in the usual drunkenness. However, on this occasion, his steps inside the home took an unusual direction.

“Young Leonard!”

The chief servant of the Walter house was unable to hide his astonishment at the nobleman’s shouts.

“Silence, stupid old man!”

“However, the Count has denied entry to the underground levels…”

“Since when does a servant dictate rules to the successor of the earldom about where to go?”

Without paying attention to the servant’s pleas, Leonard advanced toward the underground depths where the veteran leader of the Red Tower, Walter Bloodfire, stored his mystical relics. He violently stripped the butler of the keychain.

In his mind reappeared the impassive face that Dale showed that morning, and the truth hit him hard. To Dale of Saxon, someone like Leonard Walter was nothing more than an insignificance unworthy of attention.

“I will teach that damn wretch a lesson…”

Leonard bellowed, giving off a strong smell of liquor and blinded by the effects of the drink.

“He will learn that I, Leonard Walter, possess the greatest magical aptitudes in the entire Empire…”

That display by the successor of Saxony days ago did not come from his own genius. It was merely the benefit granted by a magical object. Indeed, the gap between him and Dale did not lie in innate skill.

It came down to possessing a powerful artifact.

Therefore, Leonard did not hesitate. He dismissed the dangers inherent in manipulating an object that exceeded the level of his own strength.

The next morning, at the facilities of the main lecture hall assigned to the third advanced circle of the Imperial Academy.

“With a view to the final evaluation, I understand that the hunting brigades have already collected the creatures that will serve as a test.”

There was still a margin of weeks for said evaluation.

For Dale, this did not represent a real challenge. However, if the test coincided with his stay in the main city, he had to show up.

“In reality, there is no reason to worry.”

A test designed for a simple third-circle sorcerer would never pose an obstacle to his capabilities. Nevertheless, his thoughts drifted continuously toward the nightly meeting with Sepia.

Her affection derived strictly from the connection with the spiritual environment of Dale. Despite being aware of this fact, Dale’s position remained unalterable. He wanted to keep Sepia close to him.

He refused to lose her.

This certainty, however, generated a remorse that was difficult to justify.

“This is not the right time to get lost in conjectures.”

He told himself, shaking his head in order to chase away the doubts.

Leonard was present in the room.

“…”

To the surprise of the attendees, Leonard kept a disturbing silence.

“Could he have reached maturity suddenly?”

Dale pondered without paying him excessive attention.

It was, after all, the typical blindness of a prodigy unable to decipher common minds.

During the afternoon session, a practical session of magical combat was organized to rehearse for graduation.

Leonard Walter inaugurated the round of combats, being paired against an ordinary third-circle student.

This adversary did not stand out for his clumsiness or for skill out of the ordinary; he was just an average member of the student body subjected to Leonard’s influence. The teacher in charge of refereeing the contest showed evident nervousness.

As of the events of that previous day, Leonard’s attitudes had become extremely enigmatic.

It was complex to determine with exactitude the alteration in his being. He remained immersed in a strange reserve. That tyrant accustomed to subjecting the Academy under his yoke now covered himself with a veil of silence.

To the instructor, this instilled unease and fear. Far from Dale’s perspective, who assumed that Leonard merely showed sanity, the tutor understood perfectly the true nature of Leonard Walter.

“Very well… let us begin the confrontation between Leonard and Valor.”

The teacher declared with a hesitant tone of voice.

An imposing aura was perceived. The dread did not stem from Leonard himself. Although the young man’s faculties far exceeded those of the examiner, the hierarchical distance between a third-circle executor and one of the fourth still remained. The teacher’s real terror sprouted from the figure of the dignitary of the Red Tower, Bloodfire Walter, Leonard’s dynastic protector.

Just as it happened with the high commands of the Red Tower, his tyranny completely eclipsed Leonard’s tantrums.

A modest fourth-circle sorcerer like the teacher lacked the means to oppose the hierarchs of the Red Tower.

The ritual fires that gave the start to the contest came to life.

“Listen.”

Leonard suddenly released, facing his rival. Far from formulating a defensive incantation or a direct assault, he pointed his finger toward Dale.

“Unleash your offensive magic against that spawn of Saxony.”

“Le-Leonard? What is the meaning of this…?”

“Do you perhaps prefer to be destroyed by my own spells?”

The student’s features lost all color in the face of such an imposition. Leonard persisted in his attitude, while around his fingers began to swirl a scarlet glow of malevolent nature.

His insistence on avoiding staining himself directly evidenced how vile his procedure was.

“Leonard!”

“Shut your mouth, you inept and mediocre old man.”

The young man ignored the teacher’s warnings.

“Have you remained six decades stuck in the fourth circle and you intend to give me orders?”

“Please, Leonard…!”

“Silence, or I will see myself in the need to inform my progenitor.”

The environment became suffocating due to the pressure.

“Tell me, horde of incompetents. Do you perhaps intend to ensure that that infant inspires more fear than I provoke? Is that it?”

Leonard questioned, distilling contempt in every syllable.

“Are you assuming that the name of Leonard Walter commands less respect than that upstart?”

He focused his intimidation toward the most outstanding students of the third circle.

“I said for you to direct your magical blasts toward that boy immediately!”

With a new scream from Leonard, a torrent of scarlet force sprouted from his palm, transforming into flames. It was an igneous fire that exceeded the limits of any average third-circle sorcerer.

“It is a mystical relic…!”

“Get to safety!”

Dale ordered in a powerful voice at the precise instant that a burning whirlwind erupted under Leonard’s footwear. The ferocity of the fire was of such magnitude that even an instructor positioned in the fourth circle would fear facing it. However, Dale intercepted the aggression using his characteristic “blue magic,” releasing a colossal frost comparable to the crudest night of winter.

Such a frozen display turned out to be unbearable for the fire of a simple gifted one, even if he made use of an object of power. The violent flames were extinguished immediately.

“Hahaha…”

Leonard let out an empty laugh upon seeing his offensive totally dissipated.

He did not show frustration with himself.

“Shall we begin the definitive combat to clarify who possesses the true genius in this Empire?”

Leonard proposed, showing his teeth in a defiant gesture. Dale, contemplating him with astonishment and disdain, replied with irony:

“Is it that the current youth go through an adolescent crisis after their twenties?”

Chapter 51