Once Alicia understood that the place was meant to be destroyed, the panic slowly surged through her like a cold water down on her spine.
For a brief and shameful instant, her thoughts scattered. Her heart hammered violently and her breath was coming too fast and too shallow.
The stone walls around them felt suddenly closer and lower as if the underground chamber itself had decided to collapse early just to mock them.
Eventually, she forced herself to stop since the panic was useless.
She had been taught since childhood that the fear dulled her judgment and the nobles who panicked would die first. Alicia straightened her back and her fingers were curling into her palm until her nails bit into the skin.
The pain grounded her, waking up from her own devastation.
"It isn't my time…" she told herself.
However, no matter how firmly she repeated it, the fear still lingered in the quiet places of her heart. It was not the loud fear that screamed but the quiet one that whispered such lives could end unfairly, suddenly, and without ceremony.
Her knights reacted faster than she did. Their hands hovered near their coats and their fingers were brushing against the hidden devices that was secured within.
They decided to activate the emergency communicators, the artifacts that was reserved for one purpose only. They were not meant for the inconvenience nor the embarrassment.
Activating them meant admitting the failure, admitting that the life under their protection had been placed in such genuine danger. For a knight, it was both their duty and humiliation.
Baston noticed the movement from the corner of his eye but he said nothing.
He didn't know the artifact's true purpose. To him, it was just another nervous habit and another sign that these men, for all their armor and discipline, were still human. Unlike them, he appeared almost relaxed.
He was almost like he would never be complicated. He simply knew better than to let it show. The panic was a luxury that was reserved for those without the contingencies.
Baston had learned that lesson early long before the academy and long before the magic lessons and rankings.
The moment he let his fear surface, the balance would tip.
The clown wasn't watching their expressions out of boredom. He was weighing the reactions, measuring the cracks, and searching for the smallest inconsistency. At least, Baston made people believed such imagination would happen.
Inside his chest, the old book remained silent. Its presence was heavy and watchful in the back of his mind. When the old book spoke, it judged. When it didn't, it observed.
Apparently, he was the controller of the clown at the moment. Even though so, it could also be said that the old book was the controller of his life. He was performing something to the people.
If he was a performer, then he also would be the audience member who clapped at the show.
Currently, he had an important show to do.
Let the people believed the clown was in control and let him enjoyed the stage.
Baston had no intention of winning this exchange since he only needed to survive it.
"All right…" the clown finally said, clapping his hands together as if he was starting a performance,
"I'll begin first... Who are you?"
His painted smile curved upward and it was exaggerated plus hollow.
Baston answered without hesitation, "Just an average student at Prius Academy."
The clown tilted his head, sensing the answer was acceptable. He was quite satisfied amidst not knowing his real name.
Baston met his gaze, "What do people call you?"
"Pretty good answer and pretty good question," the clown's smile widened, placing his hand over his chest theatrically, "People call me Joker."
Alicia frowned inwardly since Baston hadn't asked for the man's real name yet the clown still gave his name. The clown was very direct and his opponent operated indirectly.
She believed the clown would never give a real answer anyway and it was only an alias at the best.
As the spectator, Alicia could only see two people dueled with their words.
"My turn…" Joker said lightly, "What's your relationship with that girl?"
Baston glanced at Alicia briefly, "She's just a passerby."
The words struck harder than Alicia expected. Her brows knitted together for a split second before she schooled her expression back into calm. She wanted to rebuke but she warned herself.
This was not the time to speak.
Joker chuckled and he gestured grandly, "Your turn again."
Baston thought for a moment, "Were you involved in the explosion at Prius Academy?"
Joker spread his hands innocently, "I'm just a passerby too and I don't know anything about the explosion. In fact, I didn't even know that one had happened recently."
The symmetry of the answers sent a strange chill through the room. Alicia's suspicion deepened since the man's words were evasive but he was not clumsy.
He was playing, mirroring Baston's answers as if he was mocking the entire concept of truth.
"For the third question…" Joker tapped his chin exaggeratedly then grinned, "Are you gay?"
Baston's expression darkened instantly, "No…"
The two knights bit back laughter and their shoulders were trembling. Alicia also pressed her lips together, refusing to react. The question was absurd but Baston smiled instantly at the inside.
After all, he was trying to destabilize the rhythm.
"Then, let me ask," Baston said evenly, "Are you crazy?"
"Yes..."
The answer came without hesitation. Joker stood and his laughter was spilling from his painted mouth as he threw his head back while cackling wildly.
The sound echoed unnaturally through the room, scraping against the walls.
"Yes, I'm crazy…" he said while stepping forward.
Baston stepped back and Alicia also did the same with the knights. The clown stopped just a few steps away and his laughter was dying abruptly. He straightened as if he was suddenly bored.
"Oh dear…" Joker sighed, glancing at his bare wrist, "Look at the time… It's been far too long already. I have other business to attend to..."
The clown then gave its last smile, "You can continue playing by yourselves."
"Wait!"
Baston stepped forward instinctively to display his reluctance. He wanted to perform to his best, convincing all spectators that he and Joker was truly a different entity. Without waiting for anyone, the clown then vanished completely.
There was no flash and no sound. One moment he was there and the next, he was gone as if the reality had simply erased him. For several heartbeats, no one moved.
The silence left behind was heavier than Joker's laughter.
Baston felt it press against his ears and against his chest as if the room itself was holding its breath. He resisted the urge to exhale too quickly since Joker's disappearance was not a victory.
It was an escape that had been ordered by the puppeteer. His gaze swept the chamber instinctively, not out of fear but the habit.
There were no residual traces to look for, no distortions, and no hidden watcher. Joker had vanished exactly as intended. The puppet dissolved cleanly back into nothing.
From the outside, it would appear theatrical, unnatural, and unsettling. That was the point since Joker was never meant to linger. He was there only to play as the bad guy.
Inside Baston's mind, the old book remained inert. There was no warning, judgment, and affirmation. That silence was deliberate.
He recognized it now because the book did not react to the performance meant for the others. It responded only when the quest was being measured.
The danger here had never been Joker. It was whether anyone would look too closely at the one who created him. Thankfully, no one had.
Baston loosened his fingers slowly, forcing his posture to remain casual and unremarkable. He was just like a harmless bystander who was lingering too long after a scare. It was exactly what they expected to see.
If the questions came, he needed to look confused. If the scrutiny followed, he needed to look forgettable. And if something dangerous arrived, he needed to improvise.
He exhaled sharply and before his relief could fully settle, the ground trembled.
A deep and resonant vibration rolled through the room, followed by a surge of overwhelming magical pressure. The ceiling above them suddenly burst open, peeling apart as if it was lifted by an unseen hand. Several chunks of stone hovered midair and frozen.
The light soon poured in.
A man descended slowly from above with billowing robe and radiating mana with controlled dense waves. His presence alone bent the air, forcing the breath to halt.
The man was strong and overwhelming. The difference between Joker and this man was immediate and terrifying.
Joker had been dangerous in motion.
He was unpredictable, sharp-edged like the broken glass that was scattered across the floor. He invited the attention, drew the eyes, and demanded the reactions.
This man did none of that since his power did not flare or threaten. It settled the situation and it pressed down invisibly, rearranging the space around him without effort and urgency.
The floating rubble was not a display. It was incidental proof that the environment itself had already submitted.
If Joker had been a pressure, then this man was the gravity. There was no angle to exploit here, no rhythm to disrupt, and no game to stall.
He knew with absolute clarity that if this man decided to look at him, then no amount of acting would matter.
For the first time since the encounter began, Baston felt something dangerously close to uncertainty.
Joker could be managed but such authority like this could not. This absolute power did not need excuses, explanations, or theatrics. It only needed intent and once the intent formed, it could not be talked away.
The man landed gently as if the gravity itself deferred to him. Alicia's fear soon evaporated instantly.
"Uncle!" she cried, running forward to hug the man.
The man laughed warmly and caught her in an embrace, "I'm here… Don't worry anymore…"
The relief soon flooded the room.
"As soon as I sensed the distress signal, I came at once," he said, pulling back to examine her, "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine…"
The knights dropped to one knee, "Our apologies, my lord. We failed to protect Lady Alicia."
"You did your duty," the man said calmly, "Don't push yourself if you meet dangerous situation."
Baston stood frozen since he finally understood what happened. An emergency call reserved for true danger had been activated before. It was no wonder that the reinforcement had arrived so quickly.
Everyone began speaking at once but he barely heard them. The cold sweat trickled down his back. If he had delayed even a little longer, his puppet would have been crushed by the sheer presence alone.
Inside the academy, everyone had been limited. The students was bound by rules and ignorance. Outside here, the world was different because the power answered with power.
Alicia then noticed Baston's silence, "Baston, do you want to return with us?"
He hesitated then nodded, "All right…"
Her uncle studied them briefly and his brow was lifting ever so slightly. The pairing amused him and it was not enough to concern him.
"Alicia…" he said, "What is your relationship with that boy?"
"It's quite complicated."
The man smiled, "You don't want to tell me?"
"I want to…" she whispered, "Just not where the others can hear."
"Then, it's easy enough…"
A soundproof barrier quickly shimmered into place.
Alicia soon told her uncle only part of the truth about meeting Baston by chance, about seeing him practice ice magic alone, and about his claim of hiding his strength to hunt a criminal.
She then hesitated before continuing. She didn't realize it but her story softened around the edges when she spoke about Baston.
The small details slipped in her calm voice. The way he spoke as if the danger was already accounted for and the absence of panic when the things had gone wrong.
To her, these things meant the foresight.
He could control the situation. Despite facing the unexpected death, he was very calm. It was just like he was ready. Even if he was in weakened state, his heart was strong.
His maturity was far beyond what his appearance suggested.
What Alicia didn't understand was that she was mistaking the restraint for righteousness. She believed Baston hid himself for noble reasons. His silence was a burden that he carried alone out of the necessity. In her mind, this made him trustworthy.
Angus noticed the shift immediately. It was not the words but the tone.
He said nothing, merely filing the impression away. People revealed more through what they defended than what they explained.
She then left out the cult matter and left out her deepest suspicions. Angus listened silently and his eyes were thoughtful.
"From the poor districts?" he murmured, "Strange… Are you sure such wizard come from such place?"
"I don't know either," Alicia admitted.
The barrier faded and they soon reached the academy gates. Angus identified himself properly, refusing to cause a scene.
"I'll go ahead," Baston said suddenly, "I still have something to do."
Alicia nodded, "Thank you for everything…"
Baston bowed politely to Alicia and Angus before he left. Once he was gone, Angus did exhale softly.
"That boy must be hiding something..."
Alicia didn't disagree. Far away, Baston walked alone. His heart was still racing, knowing one truth with perfect clarity.
The clown was dangerous but it was part of his hidden power.
Yet, the man who arrived after was worse than ever.