The journey back to the Sovereign Arcana Academy was a stark contrast to his departure. Mehandi walked with the quiet confidence of a man who held the truth in his hands. The Veritas Stone, once a mere tool, was now a symbol of his hard-won vindication. He had faced down mercenaries, not with brute force, but with a philosophy—a belief that life would always triumph over death.
He re-entered the academy, and the change was palpable. The whispers were still there, but they had a new, uncertain edge. The students who once sneered now looked at him with a mix of awe and fear. The "Ghost Volkov" was no longer a rumor; he was a living legend.
His meeting with Magister Silas was not in a private chamber, but in the Grand Atrium, a cavernous space where the auras of the academy's most powerful Magisters gathered like storm clouds. The air crackled with a powerful, concentrated mana. Silas stood at the head of a massive, circular table, surrounded by his peers. Their expressions were cold, and their auras were a mix of authority and suspicion.
"Mr. Volkov," Silas began, his voice echoing in the hall. "Do you have the proof you promised?"
Mehandi didn't speak. He simply placed the Veritas Stone on the center of the table. The stone, filled with the aetherial resonance of the barrows, pulsed with a pure, white light. The light surged upward, projecting a chilling, three-dimensional tableau into the air above the table. The Magisters gasped, their masks of authority cracking under the weight of the undeniable truth.
They saw his brothers, Leo and Ivan, kneeling before the cloaked necromancer. They saw the dark pact, the transfer of forbidden power, and the chilling words exchanged. They saw the corruption of the land and the magical filth of the reanimated dead. They saw a conspiracy so deep it struck at the very heart of their magical laws.
The scene faded, and the stone's glow returned to a gentle pulse. The silence was absolute. For the first time, the Magisters looked at Mehandi not as a suspect but as a prophet, a man who had walked into the mouth of darkness and returned with the light.
Silas finally broke the silence, his voice now laced with a rare, genuine awe. "The Volkov brothers' petition is hereby nullified. An official inquiry into their actions and their dark allies will begin immediately." He looked at the Veritas Stone. "Your claims of a forgotten aetherial magic are also... compelling. We will need to study them."
But it was not over. Another Magister, a woman with a sharp, calculating gaze, spoke up. "He is a wild card, Silas. A power we do not understand. He is a danger to the very mana we govern."
Mehandi met her gaze. "I am no danger to the mana," he said, his voice ringing with a new, quiet authority. "I am a danger to those who corrupt it. I have done what your own enforcers could not. I have brought you the truth."
Silas nodded, a grudging respect in his eyes. "You have. And with it, you have earned a new position. You will not be an ordinary student, Mr. Volkov. You will be a special envoy of the Magisterium, a consultant on aetherial magic. You will be under our direct scrutiny, but you will also have our authority to root out the rot in this world, wherever you find it."
Mehandi stood in the center of the atrium, the Veritas Stone still humming on the table. He had come to clear his name, and in doing so, he had been pulled into a much larger war. He was no longer a ghost seeking vengeance. He was an agent of the light, a guardian of the truth, and his battle for his family's honor had just become a battle for the soul of the magical world itself.