Chapter 7: The Silent War
The defeat of Theron Ironbound didn't just echo in the training hall; it rippled through the social fabric of the Argent Academy like a tremor before an earthquake. By the time the sun set over the ivory towers, every High Lord from the northern tundras to the southern coasts had received a carrier-hawk or a mana-transmission: The Caelum failure is alive, and he is hunting the Gold Class.
Rowan sat in the darkened library of the Solar Spire, a stack of ancient scrolls before him. He wasn't looking for spells—he had no circles to cast them. He was searching for the historical records of the Eternal Edge. If he was to truly embody the Saint-Knight Aris, he needed to know if any of his previous life's relics had survived the passage of centuries.
The shadows in the corner of the room lengthened, detaching themselves from the bookshelves.
"You've caused quite a mess, Rowan," Seraphina said, stepping into the dim light of his mana-lamp. She looked troubled. "The Senate isn't just a group of students. Their families are the financial backbone of this Academy. By breaking Theron's ribs, you've essentially spit in the face of the Ironbound Duchy."
"They were the ones who sought me out," Rowan replied without looking up. "I simply provided the mirror for their own incompetence."
"The world doesn't care who started it," she sighed, sitting across from him. "My father sent a message. The Valois family is being pressured to distance themselves from you. They see our 'closeness' as a liability. If I continue to support you, they might freeze my access to the Primal Mana veins."
Rowan finally looked up. His golden eyes were calm, almost unnervingly so. "And will you? Distance yourself?"
Seraphina leaned forward, the moonlight-silver of her hair shimmering. "I'm a 5th-Circle Mage who was born with a death sentence in her veins. You are the only person who makes the pain stop. Let them freeze the veins. I'd rather starve with a vacuum than drown in my own power."
The Political Gambit
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a small, mechanical bird that flew through the library window. It landed on the table and unspooled a strip of expensive, gold-flecked parchment.
To Rowan Caelum,
Your "miraculous" recovery has reached the ears of the Ducal Palace. His Grace, Duke Alaric Caelum, has not forgotten your debt to the family name. Since you have found the strength to enter the Academy, you are hereby summoned to the Embassy Ball this Friday.
Failure to appear will be considered an act of desertion.
— The Office of the First Son
Rowan's grip tightened on the parchment until it charred. The Vacuum Core thrummed with a dark, predatory heat.
"Lucius," Rowan whispered. "He's still alive, and he's using the Duke's name to drag me back into their cage."
"It's a trap," Seraphina said, her eyes narrowing at the letter. "The Embassy Ball is held on neutral ground, but the guest list will be filled with your enemies. If they can't kill you in the Academy because of the rules, they'll try to provoke you into an 'incident' that justifies your execution."
"Let them try," Rowan said, a cold smile spreading across his face. "They want to see the 'Useless Son' bow? I'll show them a Knight who has forgotten how to kneel."
Training the Void: The Ebb and Flow
To survive the upcoming Ball, Rowan knew he couldn't rely solely on raw absorption. He needed a way to project his power without shattering his own body.
For the next three days, he and Seraphina locked themselves in the private training hall. The focus shifted from combat to Mana Manipulation.
"Stop trying to hold it," Seraphina commanded, her hands glowing with silver light as she directed a stream of energy toward him. "A vacuum isn't a box; it's a doorway. You need to let my mana flow through you, not just sit in you."
Rowan stood in the center of the room, stripped to the waist. The gold-and-silver lattice beneath his skin was becoming more defined, looking like glowing tattoos of a forgotten language.
As Seraphina's mana hit his chest, he didn't just swallow it. He used the Still Water technique to guide the energy down his arms and into the training sword. The steel began to vibrate, turning a ghostly, translucent silver.
"Again!" he shouted.
He swung the blade. This time, instead of a physical strike, a crescent of compressed air and silver mana tore through the room, cleaving a stone pillar in half without the sword ever touching it.
"The Vacuum Blade," Seraphina whispered, impressed. "You're using the void to create a pressure differential. It's not magic... it's pure physics."
The Arrival of the Shadow
As Friday approached, the tension in the Academy reached a breaking point. The "Senate" of older students had stopped bothering Rowan openly, but he felt their eyes everywhere. They were waiting for the Ball.
On the eve of the event, Rowan was returning to his room when he felt a sudden, sharp drop in the ambient mana. It wasn't Seraphina's cool moonlight; it was something foul, something that smelled of rot and old blood.
A figure stood at the end of the Solar Spire's bridge. It was a man dressed in the black robes of the Academy's "Disciplinary Committee," but his face was hidden behind a porcelain mask.
"Rowan Caelum," the man said, his voice sounding like two dry bones rubbing together. "The Duke sends his regards. He wanted me to remind you that even a Saint-Knight has an Achilles' heel."
The man flicked his wrist, and a needle-thin bolt of Shadow Mana shot toward Rowan's throat.
Rowan didn't flinch. He used Flash-Step, appearing behind the masked man in a heartbeat. He reached out to grab the man's shoulder, intending to drain him dry, but his hand passed through the man like smoke.
"An illusion?" Rowan muttered.
"A warning," the smoky figure hissed before evaporating. "The Ball is not a party, Rowan. It is a funeral. Make sure you pick a nice coffin."
Rowan stood on the bridge, the wind whipping his hair. The Vacuum Core was spinning slowly, hungrily. He looked toward the distant lights of the Ducal Embassy.
He wasn't afraid. For the first time in two lives, he had a source of power that wouldn't fail him, and a partner who wouldn't leave his side.
"Seraphina," he said into the night air, knowing she could hear him through their Empathy link. "Wear something sharp. We're going to be breaking a lot of things tonight."