CHAPTER 45— The painted face(2)

"H-Hey! Stop dragging me already, come on!"

Rowan groaned in protest as Ritvik continued pulling him through the academy corridors at an unreasonable pace. Several passing students turned to look at them briefly before stepping aside, clearly unwilling to involve themselves in whatever strange situation was unfolding.

Ritvik did not stop until they were far away from the cafeteria.

Only then did he finally release Rowan's neck and let out a long breath.

Rowan rubbed the back of his neck with an irritated expression.

"What was that for?"

Ritvik glanced at him briefly before looking away again.

"You shouldn't get involved with people like him."

"...?"

Rowan stared at him blankly.

"Do you know him?"

Ritvik tilted his head slightly.

"Of course everybody knows him."

His expression became a little more serious now.

"He's the Skybreaker Spellmaster after all."

"Spell... what?"

Ritvik sighed softly.

"Nothing. It's just an honorary title."

He shoved both hands into his pockets as they slowly resumed walking through the corridor lined with towering crystal windows.

"He's someone who'll become the next leader of the Skyrend Sanctum one day."

Rowan's eyes widened.

"Wow..."

Then his expression shifted again.

"But what do you mean I shouldn't get involved with him?"

Ritvik glanced sideways at Rowan for a moment before answering.

"Well... right now you're only in your first year."

His voice had lost its usual dry sarcasm.

"You shouldn't involve yourself with any faction yet. The moment you side with one faction, another faction automatically becomes your enemy."

The sunlight pouring through the windows reflected faintly against his glasses as he continued walking.

"People inside Grand Aetherion act polite on the surface, but behind all that elegance, every major faction is constantly fighting for influence."

He paused briefly before looking at Rowan again.

"So for now..."

Ritvik patted Rowan's shoulder lightly.

"You should just enjoy academy life instead of getting dragged into faction conflicts."

Rowan quietly stared at him.

For a second he genuinely did not know what to say.

Then awkwardly—

"Uhm... okay. Thanks."

Ritvik shrugged casually as if it was nothing important.

The two continued walking through the academy halls together.

Students passed around them constantly while the distant sounds of discussions and footsteps echoed throughout the massive corridors of Grand Aetherion.

After walking some distance—

They noticed a familiar figure standing near one of the academy walls.

"Huh? Sarina."

Sarina was standing quietly beneath one of the towering marble pillars, her chin tilted upward as she stared at something mounted on the wall.

When she heard Rowan's voice, she calmly turned toward them.

"Oh. It's you guys."

She casually adjusted the dark coat of her academy uniform before returning her gaze forward.

Rowan and Ritvik walked toward her.

"What are you looking at?" Rowan asked curiously.

Sarina tilted her chin upward slightly.

"Nothing."

A brief pause followed.

"I was just admiring the paintings around the academy. There are surprisingly a lot of them."

Rowan lifted his head as well.

What hung before them was less a painting–

And more a massive historical portrait.

The frame alone was enormous, stretching across almost the entire wall.

Nearly thirty figures stood and sat in carefully arranged rows within the portrait, every single person dressed in robes of different colors and styles that radiated individuality and prestige. Some stood with their hands behind their backs, while others sat calmly in decorated chairs, their expressions solemn and dignified.

Each face carried the weight of immense intellect.

The atmosphere inside the portrait itself felt heavy.

As though Rowan wasn't looking at people–

But at legends.

"Oh... so you were looking at this," Ritvik muttered.

"Yeah," he added after a brief pause. "This portrait really is incredible."

Rowan's eyes slowly scanned across the figures.

"Who are these people?" he asked with fascination visible on his face. "Some kind of legendary mages?"

"Yeah."

Ritvik nodded.

"This is the portrait of the First Astral Conclave."

"The Astral Conclave?" Rowan repeated softly.

Ritvik folded his arms while staring at the portrait.

"It was the first grand gathering held after the foundation of the modern Mage Council. Every mage in this portrait changed the history of magic itself."

His finger slowly pointed toward several figures.

"One of them revolutionized resonance theory. Another created modern mana resonance systems. one discovered Aether sight. Some of them founded entire schools of magic still taught today."

Rowan's eyes widened further.

"Wow... it's that important?"

"Of course it is."

Ritvik pointed toward the center of the portrait.

"That one sitting in the middle is our principal."

"Oh really?!"

Rowan looked at the central figure with immediate excitement.

The principal sat calmly at the center seat, his posture relaxed yet authoritative, like the entire gathering naturally revolved around him.

Rowan continued observing the portrait carefully.

Each person carried the aura of someone legendary.

Then suddenly—

His eyes stopped at a particular figure.

"...?"

Rowan pointed toward it.

"Hey... why does that one look like that?"

Beside the principal sat another individual.

But unlike everyone else—

His face had been completely covered with rough black paint.

Not artistically.

Not subtly.

It looked violently smeared over the portrait later, as if someone had deliberately tried to erase the person's identity from history.

Ritvik looked at the figure.

Then immediately looked at Rowan in disbelief.

"Wait... you seriously don't know who that is?"

"Know who?"

Ritvik stared at him like he had just committed a crime against common knowledge.

"I already knew your magic history knowledge was terrible, but you seriously don't know him?"

Rowan awkwardly shrugged.

"Y-Yeah... who is he though?"

Ritvik let out a deep sigh before turning toward the portrait again.

"That..."

His expression shifted slightly.

"That is Bastard Asterakh."

Rowan blinked.

"Hey... is it alright to curse a legendary mage like that?"

Ritvik immediately snapped toward him.

"Don't say that so casually, you idiot. If someone else hears you saying this, you could literally get arrested for treason."

Rowan froze.

"What?! Why?!"

Ritvik answered calmly.

"It's an official law established by the Mage Council."

He pointed toward the blackened portrait.

"You are legally required to Curse him before saying his name."

Rowan stared at him blankly.

None of this was making sense in his head.

"Why would they make such a ridiculous law for a mage like him?"

Ritvik's expression darkened faintly.

"Because he isn't just a mage."

A brief silence followed.

"He's the Dark Mage King."

"The supreme ruler of the Dark Mage Society."

Rowan slowly turned toward the portrait again.

"Dark Mage King..." he muttered softly.

Suddenly—

The memory of the newspaper article flashed through his mind.

The article accusing his brother of becoming a dark mage.

His fingers tightened slightly.

"U-Uhm... then why is someone like him inside this portrait with all these legendary mages?"

Ritvik crossed his arms.

"Because before becoming the Dark Mage King..."

"He was once considered one of the greatest mages in history."

Rowan's eyes flickered.

Ritvik continued.

"He is the one who created dark mana and then eventually created dark magic itself."

"But the Council considered his research heretical and exiled him."

The corridor atmosphere felt quieter now.

"For a while, things remained peaceful."

"Then later, he returned."

Ritvik's gaze remained fixed on the blackened face.

"He gathered followers, created the Dark Mage Society, and started the Second Grand Mage War."

His voice became lower.

"And after the war... Aetheris was divided."

"One half remained under the Mage Council."

"The other fell under the control of the Dark Mage Society."

A brief silence followed afterward.

"Well..."

Ritvik shrugged lightly.

"That's what history tells us anyway."

Rowan stood motionless.

Questions flooded his mind one after another.

'Is bhaiya somehow connected to this war...?'

"Uh... when did this war happen?"

"Hm?"

Ritvik thought briefly.

"About eighteen years ago."

Rowan quietly relaxed internally.

'Eighteen years...?'

'But bhaiya only entered the academy five years ago...'

'Then that means he couldn't have been related to the war itself.'

His thoughts only became more tangled.

'Then why did bhaiya become a dark mage...?'

Chapter 45 - CHAPTER 45— The painted face(2)