As Nihil walked out of the arena, students instinctively made way for him. Their faces were masks of various emotions: admiration from lower students often oppressed by Roric, confusion from theory students trying to comprehend the "magic" they had just witnessed, and cold, calculating gazes from the nobles.
At the exit, Celia and Gideon Stonehand waited for him. "That was... incredible, Nihil," Celia said, her eyes still sparkling. Gideon merely nodded in agreement, his small golem 'Roc' emitting a soft chirping sound.
nearby, Instructor Zander grinned. "Your footwork is still stiff, lad. But your instincts are sharp." It was the highest praise Zander had ever given a first-year student.
Nihil merely nodded in response. He headed to the duel administration office to claim his prize: a heavy leather pouch filled with coins and a token granting him access to Bronze-level training facilities. Resources. It was his first step.
As he walked back to his dormitory, Silas, the student information broker, suddenly appeared beside him. "An impressive victory, Lord Nihil. Bets for you exploded in the final minutes."
"What do you want, Silas?" Nihil asked.
"Just offering my services," Silas said with a sly smile. "Information is a weapon. I have complete data on all fighters in the Bronze Rank. Weaknesses, fighting styles, their training schedules. For a small fee, your climb to the top will be much smoother."
Nihil stopped. "I'm not interested in fighters." He placed several silver coins into Silas's hand. "I want something else. Get me Professor Theron's full schedule. Who he meets with, where he goes outside of teaching hours, which archives he frequently visits. Every detail."
Silas was momentarily stunned, then his smile widened. "Ah. So this is a much more interesting game. Consider it done, Lord Nihil."
Meanwhile, in the grand and cold Nocturne residence, Valerius Nocturne sat in his dimly lit study. Before him, a communication crystal faintly glowed. The distorted voice of The Silencer's intermediary had just finished delivering Tarek Mornhall's ultimatum.
"Blackmail," Valerius whispered to himself, his thin fingers tapping the oak table. Cold anger burned in his eyes. A lowly hunting dog dared to threaten its master.
"Grand Inquisitor Richter Von Braum is a dangerous fanatic," he continued. "This threat, though empty, is still troublesome."
He made a decision. He would never bow to threats. He would uproot the problem from its very roots.
"Convey a new message to The Silencer," Valerius said to the crystal, his voice as cold as ice. "His contract is renewed. The primary asset, Nihil, remains the priority. But add a secondary target: Tarek Mornhall. I want him silenced. Permanently. And I want all information he's gathered from my archives retrieved. The payment will be doubled."
The crystal flickered once then went dark. Valerius leaned back in his chair. Tarek, the hunter, had now become the hunted. And The Silencer, the deadliest shadow in the world, now had two interconnected targets.
At the same time, deep within the bowels of The Undercroft, Velka Nocturne sat in a dimly lit room behind The Whispering Flagon. Across from her sat The Weaver, whose wrinkled fingers never ceased weaving a silver thread.
"So," said The Weaver, her voice raspy like old paper. "A little crow has flown so far from its cage, not at its master's command, but of its own volition. Tell me, why should I help you?"
"Because I know my brother is an anomaly that no one in my family understands," Velka replied, her voice trembling but firm. "I don't want to see him become a monster, or killed out of ignorance. I just want... to understand. And everyone says you know everything in this underworld."
The Weaver regarded Velka for a long moment, her pale eyes seeming to weigh the girl's soul. "Knowledge demands a higher price than gold, noble girl. It demands sacrifice."
"I will pay it," said Velka.
"Good," said The Weaver. "Then here is your task. When the Cult of Nullity was driven from their cathedral, they left many things in their haste. Among them was a small silver music box, belonging to an orphan child they kidnapped. The box is worthless, but it holds sentimental value for one of my 'children' in this district. Retrieve that music box from the Defiled Cathedral in the Dead District, and I will give you the first thread to pull in the mystery of your family."
Velka's face paled. The Dead District. The most cursed and dangerous place in all of The Undercroft.
"It's... impossible," she whispered.
"Nothing is impossible," replied The Weaver. "There are only prices you are willing or unwilling to pay."
Velka looked at her soft hands, hands that had never done manual labor in her life. Then she thought of her brother, alone and hunted. Her resolve hardened.
"I will do it," she said.
The Weaver smiled thinly. "I knew you would."
Velka stepped out into the dangerous streets of The Undercroft. Her mission was now clear. To save her brother, she must walk alone into the monster's den.
For the next two days, Nihil became a ghost. By day, he was a quiet model student. By night, he was an investigator. With information from Silas, he began to piece together a map of Professor Theron's movements.
He found a pattern. Theron wasn't just visiting the library for holy magic books. The loan records (subtly hacked by Silas) showed he frequently accessed ancient texts on magical containment and bloodline curses. Strangely, every Tuesday night, Theron went to the Alchemy Wing and entered the private archives of Master Alistair Corvus—a place supposedly inaccessible to professors from other departments.
"He's hiding something in there," Nihil muttered to himself as he sat in his room studying the academy's layout.
At the same time, high above in her laboratory within "The Wanderer," Elara Moonveil made a shocking discovery.
She projected data from the Void Crystal whose energy she had detected from the mine. Beside it, she projected data from the forbidden archives of the Dimensional Guild—a scan of the energy from the cosmic anomaly known as the "Great Scar."
"Identical," she whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief. "The entropic decay pattern, the frequency of nothingness... identical."
Her assistant looked confused. "Miss Elara, what does that mean?"
"It means," Elara said, her mind racing. "The Void Crystal is not just a rare mineral. It's a... fossil. A frozen scar. Remnants of something erased from existence on a cosmic scale. And the Great Scar... it's not a natural phenomenon. It's a giant wound from the same erasure event."
She pulled up an ancient text. "Legend speaks of the Dawn War, a war among gods. But there's one part always considered myth. The 'Forgotten God,' a deity whose name was erased from all historical records. Could it be..."
The horrifying truth began to take shape. "Nihil's power... this isn't just an anomaly. It's the same power once used by gods to erase other gods from existence."
She also noticed that the Null-Capacity Condenser she had given Nihil now emitted stronger and more stable energy. "He didn't just repair it. He enhanced it. With the Void Crystal. He intuitively understands dimensional technology that even our masters are still trying to crack."
Elara shut off the hologram. She could no longer just observe from afar. She had to warn Nihil. She needed to know what else Nihil knew about the terrifying power he wielded.
Back at the academy, Nihil knew he had to infiltrate those alchemical archives. But the door was sealed with complex protective runes. He couldn't erase them without triggering alarms throughout the academy.
He needed a tool. A tool that didn't exist. So, he had to create it.
He sought out Finn Cogsworth in his cluttered workshop.
"Finn," Nihil said directly. "I need a device. Something that can create a 'zero frequency' in a rune circuit, deactivating it for several seconds without damaging it."
Finn, who was soldering a mechanical arm, stopped and stared. "You're essentially asking for an arcane master key. It's theoretically possible, but extremely difficult and... highly illegal."
"I know," Nihil said. He placed his repaired Null-Capacity Condenser on the workbench. "This."
Finn's eyes locked onto the artifact. He could feel the strange energy pulsing from it. "You... you've repaired it?"
"I enhanced it," Nihil corrected. "Help me create the tool I need. In return, I'll let you study it for twenty-four hours."
The offer was like a drug to a genius engineer like Finn. The chance to study technology from another world that was impossible? He couldn't refuse.
"Deal, Nocturne," Finn said, a mad grin spreading across his lips as he grabbed some diagrams and crystals. "You've got a deal. Let's make some beautiful academic violations."
Nihil nodded. He was no longer alone. He began to gather his own chess pieces. His investigation had transformed into preparation for a heist. His target: Master Alistair Corvus's private archives. He would uncover Theron's secrets, no matter the cost.