Seluvis spotted the mangled corpse in the corridor at a glance. He charged into the room and was met with rows of burning bookshelves, then his eyes flicked to the shattered window.
"Geralt is dead? This is all because of you useless fools! And you even let that damn thief get away!?"
His voice rose into a shrill, cutting pitch, making it obvious he didn't care in the slightest about Roman's fate.
Geralt had been his associate Preceptor. Though Geralt and Roman were close friends, even conducting Sorcery research together despite belonging to different classrooms, none of that mattered to Seluvis.
What he cared about was simple: the death of a capable subordinate meant Karolos had been weakened.
"Go get a healer!"
"What's the point of a healer now? Preserve their bodies first, you idiots!"
Flames, thick smoke, and angry shouting tangled together, turning the scene into utter chaos.
Meanwhile, Nolan moved with nimble precision, using both hands and feet to scale the outer wall.
Just a meter above his head, a large group of Sorcerers had gathered. If even one of them casually fired the most basic Glintstone Pebble, he would be dead on the spot.
He silently gave thanks that the Dark Souls' magic was still in effect, allowing him to slip in and out beneath the noses of such dangerous people.
Nolan hung in midair, directly above the balcony of the lower floor.
He kept his eyes fixed on the crowd above until he was sure no one was paying attention. Only then did he carefully let go, his body dropping slowly with gravity.
Thud!
The dull impact should have spread up from his feet, echoing through the quiet night.
But under the effect of Spook, the sound failed to draw anyone's notice.
At that moment, the last Sorcerer suddenly turned his head, his gaze sweeping across the spot where Nolan had been.
He scratched his head in confusion, as if his instincts had caught a faint trace of something amiss.
Before he could say anything, a lecturer shoved his way through the crowd, roaring in irritation as he pushed past:
"Where's the enemy? Why are you all jammed in here? Get up there and put out the fire!"
His voice was thick with annoyance, clearly the result of being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night.
"No idea. There are too many people, no one can get through. Preceptor Seluvis is up there investigating."
The mage replied helplessly, standing on tiptoe to peer deeper inside.
The corridor buzzed with noise, filled with murmurs, scolding, and complaints from every direction.
Already in a foul mood, Seluvis grew even more agitated, veins standing out on his forehead.
Finally, he snapped and bellowed:
"Shut up, all of you idiots! You, and you, stay here and deal with the fire. Everyone else, get out. Now!"
With his notoriously unpleasant mouth, Seluvis was hated by just about everyone. Anyone who disobeyed would be met with a torrent of verbal abuse.
But he was a Preceptor. No matter how unhappy the Sorcerers were, they could only swallow their resentment.
Soon, everyone except those ordered to stay dispersed from the area.
Nolan, however, did not hurry to leave. He sensed that something about the atmosphere felt off, and quietly slipped into a corner to hide.
Three Preceptors hurried past the doorway, their gazes instinctively sweeping over the tightly packed Sorcerers.
The previously loud and chaotic crowd fell silent in an instant. Beneath their Glintstone headpieces, every face showed unmistakable reverence.
Clearly, these three Preceptors held immense authority in the eyes of the Sorcerers, far surpassing that detestable Seluvis.
Focused only on reaching the scene as quickly as possible, the Preceptors paid little attention to what was happening around them. They merely waved casually to signal that formal greetings were unnecessary, then continued on their way.
The Sorcerers remained where they were, standing respectfully as they watched them leave.
At that moment, Nolan caught a glimpse of the scene outside through the open doorway.
For an instant, his heart nearly stopped, tension squeezing his chest so tightly he could barely breathe.
Each of those three Preceptors was stronger than Geralt and Roman.
Thankfully, they were in too much of a hurry to pay attention to their surroundings, much less linger here.
The two sides passed one another like this, never coming within ten meters of each other. Nolan could even see the anger burning in Preceptor Olivinus's eyes.
In the end, his worry proved unnecessary. After waiting briefly with nothing happening, Nolan slipped out onto the balcony, determined to avoid the usual paths.
The flames in the courtyard had already been extinguished, though thin wisps of smoke still curled up from various corners.
There was no need for Glintstone lamps. The Preceptors' "starlight" alone was enough to illuminate the area, like countless brilliant stars turning the space as bright as day.
Everywhere he looked were hooded Sorcerers, Glintstones reflecting light like a scattering of stars across the night sky.
This was no strictly disciplined military camp. With such a disturbance, the academy had become loud and crowded.
Aside from the lecturers and apprentices assigned to patrol the perimeter, nearly everyone in the Magic Academy had rushed over.
Some had come out of genuine concern, while others were simply here to watch the spectacle.
The upper floors were packed with people, corridors choked with bodies, chaos everywhere.
Sellen stood quietly by the doorway, listening to the clamor outside. The noise grated on her ears.
"Quiet. Enough. Everyone, be quiet."
A tall, powerfully built man descended from the upper floor. Even without seeing his headpiece, it was obvious he was a Sorcerer from the Haima Conspectus.
His arrival quickly brought the disorder under control.
As everyone turned their eyes toward him, the Haima Associate Professor called out loudly:
"The Preceptors have issued their instructions. The disturbance has been dealt with. The intruder has been eliminated."
"Classes are suspended for now. Everyone disperse immediately. The Preceptors will be coming down shortly, so don't clog the corridors."
"Whether you return to your classrooms or your dormitories is up to you. Go back and await further notice from the academy."
After hearing this, some people showed disappointment, while many more looked indifferent, clearly unconcerned about the attack.
Sellen, however, froze.
Her movement to return to her seat halted midway. Instead, she placed her hand on the doorknob. Her body trembled faintly, and the air around her grew colder by the second.
That foolish apprentice… gone just like that?
She clenched her staff tightly. As magic flowed into it in an unbroken stream, the Glintstone at its tip shone brighter and brighter.
Faintly, a terrifying mass of power could be seen gathering within, ready to be unleashed.
Just then, heavy footsteps sounded behind her.
A large hand suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist.
Who was it?
Sellen jolted, about to turn and smash the fully charged comet spell straight into the intruder's face, when the figure had already stepped close beside her.
A voice she knew all too well, calm and steady, reached her ears.
"Teacher, I'm back."