The grand hall of Zeverius Academy did not feel grand anymore.
Clark's frown deepened, though he tried to disguise it beneath his aristocratic composure. He had known the rumors before the gathering and he had chosen not to announce them.
The information was leverage and the leverage was power. When the power was revealed too early, it lost its edge. Now, Baston had cornered him and he could not retreat without losing face.
"If you truly don't know…" Clark said evenly, projecting his voice so the entire hall could hear, "Then, allow me to clarify the situation for everyone present."
The murmurs quieted and the nobles straightened instinctively. They held their breath toward the incoming news.
"Some certain noble students were manipulated into aiding the perpetrators behind the explosion incident. They did not know the full extent of what they were assisting since they were deceived."
His gaze sharpened toward Baston, "If you suggest that I suspect you, that because you might harbor deep conflict against them. After all, I heard you were often bullied…"
A few students shifted uncomfortably and Clark allowed the implication to linger.
"But still…" he added smoothly, "Do not make irresponsible statements toward them since most of the nobles carry the pride and the duty. We are often misunderstood toward our kindness..."
"Bullshit…" Baston did not say it aloud because he must not do that.
He had spent enough nights in the underground dormitories and enough mornings to eat the free sandwich that was scraped from the cafeteria to understand the difference between rhetoric and reality.
The power protected itself and the resources did not flow downward out of kindness. They were hoarded for their own hidden motives.
If the talent truly bloomed equally across the classes, then why were the most advanced knights and wizards only born from the noble houses?
It was because such cultivation required the resources, because the guidance required the lineage, and because the opportunity required the blood.
Clark continued, weaving righteousness into his tone, "The nobles are human and some of them may be tempted but it's only a small minority. I trust everyone here possesses sufficient intelligence not to be fooled."
The polite nods followed while Baston tilted his head slightly.
"Since everyone here is intelligent…" he replied calmly, "Then surely, I do not possess the capacity to manipulate the nobles for hidden purposes."
A few suppressed chuckles and Clark's smile sharpened.
"Student Baston, you still remain suspicious. A poor student like you does not suddenly become a high-tier wizard without cause. Even I, with my family resources, the private tutors, and the elite training, cannot reach such heights in such a short time."
The agreement rippled through the noble rows and Clark soon pressed further.
"I do not mind your rare awakenings. They exist but your strength exceeds the coincidence. Your advancement requires enormous resources and without them, there is no progress."
The unspoken word hovered around the poor status. Baston's expression did not change toward such statement.
"Perhaps…" he said lightly, "I am talented since hidden potential sometimes awakens under the right conditions."
"Yes…" Clark replied and he was almost amused, "But it's extremely rare and it almost never happens outside the noble bloodlines."
The words were finally said. Sometimes, they didn't need proof since such common belief could convince better. In this case, everything went back into the bloodline.
"I see…" Baston said softly, "It is because I am not a noble."
Clark did not hesitate, "Exactly!"
The word struck harder than any accusation. Eventually, it had always been deemed that the nobles were the superior one.
"If you had a noble blood…" Clark continued, "Your rise would be believable."
Many people nodded and even Alicia and Anderson could only remain silent. It was not because they agreed with Clark's hostility but because the logic favored him.
The magic required the foundation, the foundation required the resources, and the resources required such status.
Clark believed the matter had settled. Baston exhaled slowly before he placed a single piece of information to everyone.
"Student Clark…" he said mildly, "Do you know who my father is?"
The hall stilled and Clark blinked once. Surely, he didn't know that, and truthfully, he didn't care.
"I do not... A commoner, perhaps…"
Baston's voice did not rise, making a smirk on his face, "He is actually a noble..."
The silence that followed was not loud yet the atmosphere was heavy. Just by revealing the status of his father, he already confirmed the source of his strength.
"My mother was only a commoner anyway…"
Someone swallowed audibly and everyone could already predict the rest. After all, such affair was not strange in the society.
"I am his bastard son..."
The word bastard echoed louder than any shouted insult. Several students exchanged glances since this was not unusual. It was merely the inconvenient truth.
Many noble men indulged beyond the marriage and such bastards existed because of the lust. They simply remained unseen in the society even though they should have the same status. The whispers soon began spreading.
"That explains his magic…"
"He actually has a noble blood…"
"A fallen noble indeed…"
It was astonishing how quickly the perception shifted. The moments ago, Baston was an anomaly. Now, he was the misplaced nobility.
Clark's jaw tightened, "May we know his name?"
Baston looked at him calmly, "Did you not investigate me?"
"It was just preliminary…"
"Then, you are incompetent…"
The gasps erupted, thinking of how Baston dared to rebuke a noble. However, even though he was a poor at the moment, his status as a fallen noble signified his hidden pride.
Clark's composure cracked, "YOU!"
Baston lowered his gaze, "Is it not a taboo to speak such names? Still, I would rather not since I don't acknowledge him. After all, he abandoned my mother and me."
A random student interjected quickly, "Such personal matters should remain private."
"Yes, this is an academic meeting…"
"There's no need to expose such family scandals…"
The fear had slipped into the room because if Baston named his father, what if the name matched with someone here?
What if their own fathers had the shadows?
It was safer not to know. Clark sensed his momentum was slipping. Baston raised his voice slightly, enough to tremble with his restrained emotion.
"If you still suspect me…" he said, "I will then speak his name. After all, with noble blood and my hatred toward him, perhaps I can orchestrate everything to shame him. To prove that his nobility is meaningless before the strength."
It was a dangerous motive since it implied his ambition. A teacher from Zeverius Academy abruptly intervened.
"That will not be necessary… As far as our intelligence suggests, the organization behind the incident despises the nobles. They will not collaborate with them."
"Yes, it makes no sense…"
"After all, he was just a victim…"
Gradually, the support shifted. It was not because they trusted Baston but because the logic favored the self-preservation. If he were guilty, implicating him would reopen the noble vulnerabilities. It was better to believe another coincidence.
Clark fell silent and the meeting continued as usual.
However, the attention no longer focused on the explosion. It focused on Baston. The speculation spread invisibly and several names circulated internally.
If his father knew the bastard that he discarded had become the strongest junior wizard at present, the regret would taste bitter.
After all, no noble wanted that experience attached to their house.
*****
When the session ended, the atmosphere had changed permanently. No one approached Baston with the recruitment offers anymore.
Earlier, some had considered inviting him into their faction as a talented tool. Now, he was unpredictable.
A bastard noble who carried the resentment would be likely volatile. Baston walked away calmly. Not only he was happy to win against Clark, he also obtained the perfect result from the old book.
The page turned inside and the light quickly flickered. Another puppet materialized within the book's inner space. He stared at it, thinking the puppet was identical to the first. There was no variation and no evolution toward this reward.
Eventually, the disappointment soon pricked him.
He had hoped for something new. Perhaps, a new element of magic to utilize. Perhaps, a rare artifact to protect him. Instead, he obtained a second puppet.
By then, the realization dawned upon him since two puppets meant the simultaneous presence. He would have two more identities and two more layers of misdirection at the same time.
While the reward was not flashy, it was strategic. And this strategic resource fit him better than the brute force. He closed the old book before he resumed his activity.
*****
When the meeting was officially dismissed, the dispersal did not feel natural.
The students stood and the robes shifted, but no one truly left because they formed the clusters instead. It was the tight circles of whispers.
Baston walked toward the outer corridor at a steady pace. He did not rush since rushing would suggest the discomfort and being calm would suggest the confidence.
Still, the air behind him carried the weight and the atmosphere was full of attention. The fragments of conversation drifted faintly through the hall's corridor.
"Which noble house could it be?"
"If his father abandoned him, perhaps it was someone from the deserted territories…"
"No noble would admit that now…"
"His magic power was above nine hundred, wasn't it? Do they really want to abandon such talent?"
"It was a thousand…"
The numbers had already transformed into a legend. Near one of the pillars, two students from a different academy stopped talking the moment he passed.
Their expressions were neutral since they were only the observers and not the gossipers. That distinction mattered. As Baston reached the marble staircase leading toward the courtyard, he slowed subtly.
The crystal pillars used for magical measurement still stood near the center of the hall. It was dimmed now but it was not fully dormant. One of Zeverius Academy's staff members remained beside them, adjusting something along the base.
Was it really adjusting or extracting the data?
His gaze lingered for less than a heartbeat before moving away. If they archived the signatures, then his magical frequency had already been recorded. Once it was recorded and compared across several academies, the result would be very interesting.
At the outside, the evening sky had begun shifting toward amber.
The carriages that were bearing different academy crests waited in neat lines, but the atmosphere in the courtyard did not resemble the departure. It resembled the assessment.
Alicia stood with Anderson near the Prius Academy's carriage. Their conversation ceased when Baston approached.
Her eyes studied him carefully. It was not with hostility and suspicion but with new calculation.
"You handled that well," she said quietly.
"Handled what?" Baston replied.
"The story of your so-called background..."
Baston only smiled, thinking it was just a nonsense from his side. After all, the story of his parent was a fake that he created.
"I merely told the truth," he answered smoothly.
"Are you sure that was the truth?" Anderson added with folded arms.
Baston smiled faintly, "Who knows?"
He did not answer such question. Until now, no one knew whether his words were the truth or the lies. After all, only he had known his own story.
As the students began boarding their respective carriages, he took one final glance at the towering silhouette of Zeverius Academy.
High above one of the central towers, he noticed a faint flicker. It was not from the torches and it was not from the windows. It was a lens which was a magical observation array. It was active, watching the departures with its own routine.
Clark exited the building moments later, flanked by two other nobles.
His posture remained straight but his steps were quicker than before. He did not look toward Baston. Such avoidance was the admission but Clark was not the real concern. It was the teachers.
Near the entrance archway, two faculty members stood in the quiet discussion. Their eyes tracked several specific students.
Baston counted silently that three times their gaze returned to him. It felt that he was being marked. The meeting had ended but the investigation had never finished. His performance had earned him another influence.
It had also earned him the scrutiny. And the most dangerous thing in this world was not the hatred but the curiosity from powerful people.
At the outside, as the carriage doors closed, the courtyard lights brightened one by one. Above the academy tower, the observation array flickered once more before dimming.
Before he could depart for Prius Academy, a staff member intercepted him.
"Student Baston… The principal requests your presence…"
Of course, he had already expected such occasion. The talented anomalies attracted much attention and new trouble also followed this attention.
He did not hesitate but he did not go personally. Inside a quiet corridor corner and hidden from the sight, Baston executed the switch.
The real body folded inward and the puppet stepped outward. It was a seamless operation.
The old book rested beneath the layered robes near the puppet's chest. There was no distortion and no mana fluctuation detectable.
If someone examined him closely, they would see nothing. Once again, with confidence given by the puppet, he walked forward the principal's office.
*****
The office of Zeverius Academy's principal radiated the restrained authority.
The runic arrays etched faintly across the floor while the bookshelves climbed toward the ceiling. Seated at the center was an elderly man with calm eyes and measured posture.
"Welcome…" he said warmly, "I am Zener, the principal of Zeverius Academy."
Baston bowed, "Good afternoon, Principal Zener."
Several teachers observed silently from the sides. Their gazes were not admiring since they were observing him. Meanwhile, Principal Zener only smiled toward such reaction.
"Student Baston, your performance today was intriguing... You possess such remarkable magical resonance and political instinct."
Principal Zener folded his hands, "Tell me honestly. Do you intend to remain at Prius Academy?"
It was a simple question yet it weighted a lot. Transferring between the academies was not trivial after all.
It altered his faction alignment, influence, and the future patronage. And this time, Principal Zener gave that choice toward him.