Chapter Two – The Letter, the Legacy, and the Lie
Clackk.
The heavy oak door creaked as I pushed it open, revealing the study beyond. Before I stepped inside, my eyes landed on my father—Grand Duke Reinhardt Van Kafher—buried in documents, the flickering daylight playing off his aging yet iron-etched features. He sat in his favored chair, the one only he was allowed to touch, beside his ever-faithful butler, Sebastian James Whitmore.
"Father," I said, unceremoniously, "what is the meaning of this? How did I become a professor? And of all places, Arcadia Academy?"
The words spilled out like venom, edged with frustration and disbelief.
His eyes flicked toward me—calm, disdainful, cold. He didn't speak, but the disapproval in his gaze roared louder than any reprimand. It wasn't that he disliked me. It was... more complicated than that.
This morning, Sasha had entered my room, drawing back the curtains like a sudden gust of reality. Sasha Whitmore, my childhood friend—the daughter of Sebastian and head maid Melise. Two years older than me, she was adored by everyone, especially by my mother, for her gentle demeanor and bright presence. She had a petite frame, pearl-like blue eyes, and soft brown hair that fell in waves down her back. She looked stunning in her own quiet way, graceful and disarming without even trying. She handed me a letter. The royal seal glimmered at the edge, unfamiliar and unsettling.
It was from the Royal Family.
I cracked the wax seal and scanned the contents. A teaching appointment? At Arcadia Academy? Magic Swordsmanship Professor?
I nearly dropped it.
"When did I apply for a job and of all places—Arcadia?" I muttered aloud.
Sasha blinked. "Wait, you got a job? At Arcadia? Seriously?"
"Yes."
"Isn't that... a good thing?"
This woman.
"No, it's not. I'm going to Father."
"At least wash your face first!"
But I hadn't. And now, I stood in front of the Grand Duke looking like I had just fallen out of bed—because I had.
His gaze flicked from my hair to the collar of my robe.
"It was a decision made by the Royal Family and the Dean. You will follow through with it," he said flatly.
"But I have no experience. I don't even want to be a professor. Let Maliha—"
"Enough!" he thundered. "If you lack experience, then gain it. You are my firstborn. Do not disgrace this family. Learn to hold your spine like a Kafher. Maliha is your younger sibling. It is your duty to support her, not to throw her in your place."
I clenched my fists but said nothing.
"You leave for Arcadia Academy in two days," he said, final as a gravestone. "You have no choice."
"...I understand."
"Sebastian, prepare his belongings. You may go."
"Yes, my lord."
Bang.
I slammed the door behind me. Rage, shame, and helplessness tangled in my chest like thorns. I was twenty-seven. And I had just whined to my father like a child. Even suggested giving the job to my younger sister.
How shameful.
If anyone heard, I'd be laughed out of the city.
I stormed to my room, threw off my robe, and washed my face in cold water. The shock jolted my nerves, just enough to start organizing my thoughts.
Why me? Why now? Why Arcadia?
*****
Arcadia Academy wasn't just any school. It was the school. The jewel of the Britannia Empire—the richest, most prestigious academy in the world.
And Britannia... Britannia stood atop the world.
There were five great empires in existence: the West's Britannia Empire, the Middle East's Osmania Empire, the South's Khorsan Empire, the mid-South's Surjo Empire, and the East's Tajek Empire. Among them, Britannia reigned supreme.
Our family, the Kafhers, ruled a grand dukedom under Britannia—once sovereign, now subordinate. Our legacy stretched back centuries. We were one of the seven original "Dark Families," known for opposing the Church of the Seven Gods during the great revolt five hundred years ago. Only five of us remain.
That revolt shattered the Arkanis Empire and gave rise to Britannia. And though peace followed, the Church bided its time. Now they rule not with armies, but with influence. They have seats in the Empire's Court of Assembly. Their whispers carry further than blades.
They turned the royal family against us.
I know because I lived it.
*****
Seven years ago, I was still a student at Arcadia, pursuing my Master's. I received a letter from the Royal Family then too. They "honored" me with a task—lead a dungeon subjugation squad.
An A-rank Partho Bear, they said.
But it wasn't. It was an S-rank Pyro Grisly Bear. Towering at six meters and weighing over three tons. My squad betrayed me the moment we stepped into the dungeon. They collapsed the entrance. Left me to die.
And I would have, if not for a miracle.
I woke in a hospital bed two weeks later, my mother asleep beside me. When I tried to speak, my voice was a ghost of itself.
The doctors said I survived a full-body energy explosion. My energy pathways were obliterated—scattered throughout my body. Normally, that meant death.
But I didn't die.
The doctor called it a miracle.
I called it torture.
My magic was gone. My body had stabilized the explosion on its own, a freak survival. But I couldn't cast a single spell.
I tried. The pain was excruciating. Like my cells were imploding.
When I begged for help, my mother stepped in.
She had ordered the doctors to keep my condition secret. Not letting me know but I still found out.
"You would have done something reckless. Nothing matters more than your life," she said. "We wanted you to heal."
I stayed silent. Not because I agreed, but because arguing would hurt more than the pain.
Two days later, I left the hospital.
I expected honor. Recognition. I hoped that at least I didn't loose my powers in vain.
Instead, I was vilified. The Royal Family twisted the tale. Said I sabotaged the mission. Said I attacked my own men. The people spat when they saw me.
So I left. Traveled. Studied medicine, economics, culture. I rehabilitated. Slowly, I regained fragments of power. Not much, but enough to stand.
And now, seven years later, the Royal Family dares to summon me again.
To teach.
In Arcadia Academy.
Not as a knight. Not as a hero.
But as a professor.
This time, I will not be their pawn.
Whatever game they're playing...
I'm playing back.