Heavy leather boots struck the hard wooden floor, producing a deep, dull thud, as though each step made the air itself tremble.
A group of figures clad in long robes and heavy armor advanced down the corridor with steady, forceful strides. Both sides of the hallway were already lined with tightly packed, fully armed soldiers.
Their expressions were solemn. One hand gripped a sharp spear, the other held a thick wooden shield firmly in place.
They stood there in silence, saying nothing, yet the wordless stillness itself exuded a suffocating tension.
Seluvis narrowed his eyes, his sharp gaze fixed on the approaching group.
When he recognized the figure at the front, his brow furrowed, and he asked in a low voice,
"Dhurke, what are you doing here?"
At that, Dhurke, walking at the head of the group, let out a cold chuckle and replied unhurriedly,
"The patrol just captured two Sorcerers who fled in from outside. As part of the academy's administration, it's only natural that I come take a look. Is there a problem with that?"
As he spoke, he shot Seluvis a deliberately provocative glance.
Though Dhurke was only an associate preceptor, he hailed from the Haima Conspectus. There was no chain of command between him and Seluvis, so he had no reason to show the latter any courtesy.
Without offering Seluvis the slightest courtesy, Dhurke raised his voice to address the onlookers who were still in the dark.
"Not only that, I've also heard these two Sorcerers are claiming to be your relatives, Preceptor Seluvis! In that case, we absolutely must take a good look at them!"
What?
The moment those words fell, the mages present exchanged stunned looks, surprise written plainly across their faces.
Everyone knew Seluvis was one of the most disliked preceptors in the academy, someone who always kept to himself and had no close ties.
If Dhurke's presence here was due to his recognized strength, then Seluvis being stationed here was purely the result of being pushed aside.
"Preceptor Seluvis," someone suddenly asked, the voice neither loud nor soft, yet clear enough to reach his ears, "how is it that no one has ever heard of these relatives of yours?"
Seluvis turned toward the speaker. When he saw the question had come from someone of the Haima Conspectus, his already grim expression darkened further, his brow tightening.
He loathed this Conspectus. They were always backing Elkario and opposing him at every turn.
"Hmph. That's none of your business," Seluvis snapped. "Do I need to report every little thing I do to a bunch of useless trash like you? Do you honestly think you're qualified?"
His cold, contempt-filled gaze swept slowly over everyone present, his words offering not the slightest mercy.
The remark thoroughly humiliated everyone in the room.
Given Seluvis's usual way of conducting himself, however, no one found it particularly surprising.
Dhurke, standing off to the side, quietly observed Seluvis. Before long, Seluvis fell silent, his brows still tightly drawn as though he were weighing something important.
After a brief hesitation, Dhurke decided to ignore him altogether. He walked straight to the door, reached out, and twisted the handle.
With a sharp creak, the slightly weathered wooden door slowly swung open.
Inside was a simply furnished lounge.
At the center of the room stood a wide double bed, on which two Sorcerers wearing Karolos hoods lay nestled together.
Judging by their clothing, the woman was clearly a lecturer, while the man was nothing more than an ordinary apprentice.
A perfumer in a long coat stood quietly by the doorway, keeping watch. The secret draughts they prepared were even more effective than those of ordinary physicians.
There was nothing improper about it. The academy was not a monastery, and scholars were not ascetic monks. There were no harsh rules here forbidding romance or marriage.
Besides, this was a gathering of researchers possessed of exceptional intellect. If their children were to inherit their parents' wisdom, wouldn't that be a wonderful thing?
For the moment, no one paid any mind to Seluvis, who could identify a woman's status at a glance based solely on her figure and bearing, and who was now utterly bewildered and seething with rage.
Sorcerers filed in one after another, instantly packing the already narrow lounge until it was bursting at the seams.
All eyes turned to the strange pair. Some of the sorcerers, puzzled, couldn't help voicing their questions.
"What's going on? A lecturer actually took a liking to an apprentice?"
"Maybe he's a prodigy. Or perhaps that apprentice is related to Preceptor Seluvis."
Those explanations sounded reasonable enough and were soon accepted by everyone.
Most of the sorcerers knew perfectly well that their pursuit of magical knowledge bordered on obsession, yet they took genuine pleasure in it.
To them, love and romance were nothing more than small seasonings added to an otherwise ordinary life.
The true and supreme pursuit was always the exploration of the endless mysteries hidden within the world of magic. Even when choosing a lifelong partner, that ideal should be the measure.
The academy's upper ranks examined the two with assessing gazes. Nolan, meanwhile, was also quietly observing them.
At least on the surface, he looked like a frightened little boy, clinging tightly to Sellen, his body trembling uncontrollably.
By contrast, Sellen appeared calm and composed.
The contrast fit their respective roles well enough. An apprentice's experience and composure could hardly compare to a lecturer's.
The onlookers nodded in agreement.
Beneath his hood, however, Nolan's expression was anything but panicked. Then he saw the associate preceptor of the Haima Conspectus step up to the bedside, those sharp eyes locking onto him.
"Who exactly are you?"
His voice was icy cold, lacking any trace of the scholarly refinement one would expect from an academy sorcerer. Instead, he sounded more like a hardened warrior who had clawed his way out of countless life-and-death battles.
Faced with such a piercing interrogation, Nolan, who had been forcing himself to stay calm, finally gave in, utterly "frightened" by the man's oppressive presence.
He stammered as he answered,
"I… I'm Anakin Vader, an apprentice of the Karolos Conspectus. This is my wife, Mandalyn."
Like a punctured balloon, Nolan went limp and collapsed into Sellen's arms.
Sellen patted his back and held him close in comfort, drawing a burst of laughter from the room.
"Dhurke, watch your tone. You'd do well to remember your place," Seluvis said coldly. "They are not criminals, and I am not that idiot Oled."