The morning sun streamed downwards on the academy grounds. Noah stepped out of the dormitory, fastening his coat as he walked down the steps.
The entire campus felt unsettled. Students stood gathered in groups across the courtyards, whispering to one another as they craned their necks to see the plume of gray smoke still rising from the far side of the grounds.
Ahead, the remains of the destroyed building were visible even from a distance, standing as a blackened skeleton of stone, still steaming despite the efforts of the maintenance mages.
Dozens of staff members were stationed around the perimeter, clearing debris. Every few seconds, there would be a loud crack as the stones were being broken down into rubble.
Noah slowed, scanning the crowd. The murmur of speculation filled the air.
"They say it was caused by improperly storing a few reagents."
"No way! The safety protocols would’ve prevented that."
"Then what? A bomb?"
"Who’d target the academy?"
He didn’t stop to listen. He already knew who was behind this.
A familiar voice called from behind. "You’re up early."
Noah turned to see Arlo approaching, hands in his pockets, expression grim.
"Couldn’t sleep," Noah said simply. "You?"
"Didn’t sleep," Arlo answered. He joined Noah as they walked towards the cafeteria.
"What’d you find?" Noah asked quietly.
Arlo exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "The building that blew up was one of the old research labs, used as part of the alchemy section before getting shut down years ago. They were storing inert equipment in there. Or so they claimed."
Noah frowned. "Anyone inside?"
"None," Arlo replied. "At least, not that they could find. The explosion was... clean. No traces of bodies, no blood, no residual aura except for the initial blast. The investigators think it started from inside the lab."
Noah’s steps slowed. "So the Puppeteer wanted attention."
"Or a distraction," Arlo murmured.
Before Noah could reply, a ripple of silence passed through the students. It was instant, sudden enough that Noah slowed. Then the whispers began again, louder than before.
"The Investigation Authority."
Black carriages rolled through the main gates, some pulled by horses, and some moving without horses.
Soon, they stopped near the destroyed building, and agents began stepping out, clad in black and gray uniforms. They radiated the same cold presence Noah couldn’t forget even if he wanted to.
The crowd parted instinctively as the Authority agents walked towards the ruins, flanked by academy guards. They began erecting containment wards, sealing off the area from all unauthorized entry.
Arlo muttered, "Well, that’s our cue to leave."
[][][][][]
By evening, the academy had quieted, though the unease hadn’t left. Posters with strict regulations had been pinned to walls.
The curfews had been reinstated, the patrol schedules extended, and the use of high-tier spells outside class officially forbidden.
Arlo, however, had no intention of resting.
He walked into the library, nodding politely to the staff mage behind the counter. "I’d like to access the public patrol archives," he said.
The librarian eyed him but said nothing, simply motioning towards the side room. "Gold-tier access. You may view the last two months’ records. Nothing earlier."
"Perfect," Arlo said.
He stepped into the archive room, and quickly retrieved the most recent volume, flipping through pages filled with neatly logged dates, patrol routes, and assigned instructors.
He wasn’t looking for names at random. He had one in mind.
Professor Cecilia Pendragon.
He traced her entries, noting each patrol date. There was nothing suspicious, not on the surface. But Arlo’s gut told him otherwise.
He jotted the patrol dates and locations down into his notebook before leaving.
Outside, the evening air was brisk. The sky was cloudless, the sun having sunk halfway down the horizon, painting the sky in beautiful shades of orange.
Arlo unfolded the patrol schedule again, studying the pattern as he walked. When he had what he wanted in mind, he tucked the paper away and began his real work.
He poured mana into his eyes.
It burned immediately, a searing pain that shot through his skull. He clenched his teeth and forced himself to keep the flow steady. The world shifted, dimming and brightening all at once.
The air shimmered, and then unfolded before him.
Soon, threads filled his vision. Millions of them.
They were mana traces, weaving through the air like glowing cobwebs. Each color represented a person, with some threads new and some old and fading away.
He focused, filtering the vision.
The undead traces glowed faintly greenish-black in the air, curling like smoke trails that abruptly stopped, cut clean.
He’d seen it before. He had no idea how the Puppeteer had done it, but one day, he’d know.
He forced his eyes to focus further. Among the millions of faint trails, he searched for the one he was looking for. The golden-yellow thread of Cecilia Pendragon.
There.
It shimmered in various directions across the air, some new and others old, marking her movements over a few months.
He followed the threads across the grounds, careful not to lose the line amid the chaos of other trails.
Cecilia’s path moved in loops, moving from the faculty building to the training yards, then towards the lakeside woods. Nothing strange yet. But then...
There was a portion of the golden line that was different. It was thicker and brighter, the line refusing to fade easily.
Arlo’s breath caught. That amount of mana meant one of two things. Either she had unleashed powerful magic there, or she had been carrying something dense with energy.
He followed the glowing path, weaving through the academy grounds, until finally, the path curved towards one of the lakes on campus, the one students rarely approached.
Arlo stopped at the edge of the water. The reflection of the sky rippled faintly across the surface.
The golden line continued into the lake... and vanished beneath it.
He stood there for a long moment, staring at the water.
Something powerful had been here. Something Cecilia hadn’t wanted anyone to find.
Arlo let the mana fade from his eyes, the burning pain slowly ebbing away. He rubbed at his temples, glancing once more at the lake.
Whatever she’d done here, it wasn’t ordinary patrol work.