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In the twilight of the Academy, the Grand Chancellor Galasum was busy in his office. As Chancellor, he oversaw the internal affairs, logistics, and discipline of the entire Arcane Academy. Managing the daily needs of tens of thousands was no easy task, but such work never daunted him before. Recently, however, he had been working overtime—not due to his usual duties, but because he had been accompanying Headmaster Akmond to assist the Enlighteners.

Most of his daytime hours were devoted to helping the Enlighteners refine their "coup plan," enabling both himself and Headmaster Akmond to swiftly infiltrate the core of the Cult of the Awakeners. His regular duties, therefore, had to be managed by night.

This inevitably affected the Chancellor's sleep quality. Fortunately, he was a highly skilled arcanist and could substitute sleep with meditation, ensuring he remained vigorous the next morning to aid the Headmaster’s grand quest for power.

Unlike Dick, who rose through nepotism but remained on the fringes, Galasum had long been firmly bound to Lord Akmond. Their fates were intertwined—each’s glory or downfall was shared—so naturally, he treated the Lord’s affairs as his own. This was a lesson from many years of navigating the treacherous currents of court politics.

Yet even in these taxing late nights, unexpected events arose. At this moment, while Galasum was finalizing the Arcane Academy’s budget request for the next year’s Council of Regents, he was also receiving a student entrusted with a "special mission."

“Handled it?” he asked without looking up, reviewing the enormous budget figures with an arcane artifact carved from a gem.

“Why are you here alone? Where’s your sister?” he inquired.

Captain Diakum is not yet dead. He just took the final potion. By your orders, he will return his soul to the Holy Light at dawn. But the new guards are watchful; Auresse must stay behind to ensure everything proceeds according to plan.”

The student, Saloras, dressed in her academic robe, respectfully placed an arcane rune stone on the Chancellor’s desk and softly asked, “Is there anything else we need to do?”

“Proof!” Galasum said, taking the rune stone and infusing it with arcane energy to replay the stored images.

Against a backdrop of pale blue light, a feeble Dick coughed, recounting his undercover experiences within the Cult of the Awakeners. Galasum was thoroughly pleased.

With this evidence, Lord Akmond’s impending “betrayal” now carried the noble cause of “avenging friends and subordinates.” The moving tale of the Headmaster risking everything to infiltrate and ultimately eradicate the cult was now complete.

Setting down the rune stone, the Chancellor smiled warmly at his favored prodigy.

“Captain Diakum played a crucial role in this entire affair. You and your sister witnessed firsthand his poisoning by the cultists. This will allow you to testify credibly during investigations. I will provide you with a statement later. You must both practice diligently after returning—any mistake in this critical matter is unacceptable.”

“Understood,” Saloras nodded and began to take her leave.

But just as she turned, Galasum spoke again:

“Because you and your sister have contributed to Lord Akmond’s cause, besides your scheduled Outstanding Graduate honors, the Headmaster and I have decided to prepare an additional future for you. Timing it right, when you graduate, the civil service rotation at the Council of Regents will commence, and you will be assigned there to serve the Regents.

This is the perfect career path for Academy graduates. The Headmaster’s connections and resources will be open to you, aiding your ascent within the power core of the Eredar civilization. But avoid getting too close to Lord Akmond, who is destined for the Council of Regents, so as not to arouse suspicion. Maintain the necessary respect.

Your ultimate goal is to approach either Regent Velen or Kil’jaeden, demonstrating your abilities and becoming trusted subordinates. But never forget your origins, nor who gave you the opportunity to shine.”

Galasum’s tone was measured but firm.

“Assassinating a senior guard officer can be a grave offense or a minor one. Since you are now part of an aligned faction of interest, I will suppress this truth—a secret that harms no one and will remain unknown. Do you understand?”

“Grand Chancellor! My sister and I are utterly loyal to Lord Akmond!” Saloras spun around, her youthful anxiety showing. She awkwardly pledged:

“Even just the Outstanding Graduate honor would satisfy us. It is Lord Akmond’s extraordinary power that inspired us to follow willingly. It was you and the Headmaster who uncovered our potential. Without your help, we would still be wasting away in a small town school on the Antoran Plains.”

“Good. Say exactly that outside from now on,” the Chancellor said, his chin tendrils twitching momentarily.

“We arcanists must remain pure and never give the impression of ambition. You and your sister tend to be too conspicuous; that must change. You will serve the Regents soon, so humility on the surface is essential.

Go now. Help your sister finish the last tasks and patiently await the summons.

That imminent ‘War of Justice’ requires our Academy’s finest prodigies to participate and witness our rise firsthand.”

“As you command, Grand Chancellor.”

Taking the order, Saloras left the office and breathed a long sigh upon stepping out of the dome-shaped building. Her heart pounded fiercely—for she had just told a terrible lie.

For the first time in her life, she had become a traitor.

And she had betrayed those she considered immensely powerful: Headmaster Akmond and the Grand Chancellor who had raised them both.

It sounded shameless, but considering the entire plan was already known to the two Regents, and that Commander Kil’jaeden had secretly ordered Captain Diakum’s elimination, all the promises made to the sisters had become empty illusions.

What a pity.

Looking back at the Chancellor’s residence glowing softly in the night, she sighed inwardly:

“If only you had eliminated Captain Diakum, a seemingly insignificant pawn, earlier, your plan might have succeeded.

But now it’s too late.

Your opponent has dealt a fatal blow with wisdom rivaling yours. He is the hidden hawk, and even for my sister’s life, I must now defect.”

The brilliant arcanist’s sorrow and shame lingered for a while, but by the time she returned to Dick’s small courtyard, reality had convinced her otherwise.

This was not betrayal.

If the Headmaster’s and Enlighteners’ plan were set in motion, the entire Mak’are region would plunge into chaos, and countless lives would be lost.

She and her sister were aiding justice.

Without question, such actions aligned perfectly with the moral virtues so often extolled by the Holy Light’s priests.

---

“You’re back? Intact—no limbs missing. Looks like you’re quite the liar,” greeted Imira, a senior student from the same academy, mocking Saloras at the courtyard gate.

Saloras merely sneered, wagging her adorable tail as she retorted:

“Arcane students must use their wits; deception and cunning are survival skills too. Sadly, you, dear senior, seem to lack these.

No worries—following the Holy Light is also a path for spellcasters.

For those mediocre and weak classmates, even the harshest mentors advise against wasting too much time chasing arcane secrets. After all, you and my sister are not the same. Senior, the pursuit of truth is not for you.

Congratulations, Imira, you have finally made the right choice in your otherwise fruitless student career.”

“Oh, Holy Light, every time I see you, I can’t help but want to punch your seductive face and cut off your tail!” Imira clenched her fists and said:

“Still, even the most mediocre priest is better than an arcanist who abuses their gift to harm others. Honestly, I think Captain Diakum has been far too merciful to you two. You should follow evil Akmond down the dark path to the end and be sentenced to death by the Tribunal—that’s what you deserve.”

“That only means Captain Diakum recognized the amazing talents my sister and I possess,” Saloras snorted.

Pushing past the obstructive Imira, she whispered:

“Being a prodigy means you can do as you please. Senior, the world of arcanists is harsh. Oh, pardon me—I forgot you’re no longer one of us truth seekers.

May the Holy Light bless you, senior~”

Leaving the fuming and frustrated Imira behind, the sharp-tongued Saloras quickly entered the main hall.

Dick sat in a chair, receiving help from Auresse to remove the fake injuries he had arranged to record a “small video.” Faraya and Imira were not skilled in makeup, but for Saloras and Auresse, masters of “tea arts,” applying beautiful makeup was basic for refined ladies.

“Tomorrow, you must go again and deliver the news of my death,” Dick instructed Saloras.

“The Assassins’ Court will find a corpse resembling me. Captain Maldren will handle my ‘funeral.’ Since it’s a show, you two will have more tasks ahead.”

“This is what we must do to defect,” said the more rational sister, Auresse softly.

“We are grateful you gave us, the wrongdoers, a chance to escape the mire.”

“The opportunity came from your own efforts, children. The Holy Light merely lent me as a guide. And your dangerous tasks are not yet over. To atone for your mistakes is like crossing a quagmire—not as easy as you think.”

Dick’s speech was grandiose, but he did not fully trust the twins.

Their deeds in the official history of the Dark Portal were enough to violate any law in the Order’s world.

Unlike the five young heroes with simple righteousness, these twins lacked a moral baseline to measure good and evil. Even now, immature though they were, they had committed murder for the honor of Outstanding Graduate, revealing a dark core.

These young women and Akmond were undoubtedly of the same kind: ambitious, disdainful of morality, arrogant, and extraordinarily gifted. After all, achieving the post of “Deputy of Deceivers” proved their talent on the path of evil rivaled their remarkable spellcasting.

Still, Dick was willing to give them a chance.

Not merely because, as a part-time PE teacher, he pitied seeing promising youths led astray, but also because the twins had not yet done anything truly heinous.

If he could kill Akmond and alter a dark fate, perhaps the twins’ destinies could be changed through his intervention.

Such prodigies, if they walked the righteous path, would be a blessing to the Eredar civilization, which faced great trials ahead.

“After my ‘burial,’ cooperate with Captain Maldren and Mentor Talana to mediate and contact Lady Virala, the Academy’s nominal second-in-command, persuading her to join this ‘restoration of order.’”

Dick instructed:

“There are also cultists of the Awakeners hidden among the Academy’s tutors and staff, forming small factions.

I can tell you clearly: High Enlightener Argon, responsible for Academy affairs, is a core member of the Awakeners’ cult. He is a disciple of Sachir and wields significant influence.

While we strike against Akmond and Sachir, the Academy must maintain basic order.

The students are innocent, and only Lady Virala can protect them in crisis by relocating them to safety.

I have no one else to handle this, so it must be you two.

I believe that if this turmoil ends smoothly, Regents Velen and Kil’jaeden will see your resolve to defect.

Just as I have.

Lost the way, but ultimately returned to the righteous path.”

The sisters exchanged a glance and quickly accepted the mission.

As the Academy’s brightest prodigies, they had rapport with Lady Virala, making them suitable for this delicate task — a distinct advantage of being top students.

After the twins retired to another room to rest, the five young recruits were summoned. Dick had changed into a traveler’s disguise, wearing a hood and carrying a pack. Sitting in a chair, he addressed the five new soldiers:

“I must move into the shadows before dawn and proceed to Enlightener Sachir to complete the final step of the plan. It’s too dangerous to bring you along.

You will stay at the Academy under Captain Maldren’s command. Once the Awakeners’ coup begins, the Academy will become a battlefield, and your training will be put to use.

I have little else to say. Before I leave, I wish you all to become shining warriors defending the Eredar civilization under the guidance of the Holy Light.

I believe your talents and determination can achieve this.”

“Lord Dick, don’t make it sound like you’re giving a last will,” Imira couldn’t help but say.

“You should be hopeful; everything will end well.”

But the others did not share Imira’s optimism.

They understood the terrible risk Dick was undertaking by infiltrating the cult’s stronghold. Yet he did not falter in the face of the Enlighteners’ threat to kill him. Instead, he bravely accepted his duty, embodying the spirit of a senior guard officer.

---

And they felt even more deeply the “guidance” of the Holy Light.

As a race symbiotic with the Holy Light for millennia, the Eredar now held a new tradition: believing every twist of fate was directed by the Light. They loved to find “Holy Light’s enlightenment” in worldly changes, however superstitious that might be.

For example, the five young heroes believed that Captain Diakum, a complex elder who faced his destiny head-on, was sent by the Holy Light to teach them something.

What lessons they drew from this was open to interpretation.

Dick left his accumulated weapons and armor to the five recruits. Wearing old armor, he departed the courtyard he had never left since crossing over.

Captain Maldren awaited ahead, handing him the reins of a sturdy Tab sheep.

As Dick mounted, Maldren spoke:

“No matter the danger, Diakum, you must hold on and call for the Holy Light’s blessing. Once I finish my duties here, I will rush to rescue you in Oronar City.”

He lowered his voice:

“Don’t trust the Assassins’ Court’s promises too much. As a faction under the Supreme Regent responsible for the state’s darker affairs, they prioritize mission over protection. Diakum...”

“You can call me Dick, Maldren. I think we’ve repaired the poor colleague relationship of the past thirty years, don’t you?” Dick pulled up his hood.

Gazing into the deep night, he whispered:

“After all I’ve been through, after walking the edge of death, I have resolved not to entrust my fate to others lightly. I may die in the coming storm, but only I can decide where and why I face the end.

You know, Maldren, I’m still searching for my path of the Holy Light.

I have a feeling that if I survive, I will once again walk the path the Light has laid out for me.”

“But the more you say that, the more you sound like a ‘martyr,’ Dick,” Maldren sighed.

“Since becoming a guard, I have seen similar people in battles against otherworldly creatures and roaming beasts. I don’t know how to advise you, but don’t do dangerous things just to earn the Holy Light’s favor.

That’s putting the cart before the horse.

It’s just a sense of duty, Dick! Like being a guard is just a job. It can strengthen your resolve, but you can live well without it.”

“That you, a devout believer, would say that to comfort me means our relationship has indeed improved. But don’t be so gloomy—you make it sound like I won’t return.”

Dick smiled and said:

“If I come back alive, will you invite me to your home for dinner?”

Inviting someone to dinner was a gesture reserved for close friends among the Eredar, who grew lonelier with age. Maldren was more than twice Dick’s age and at the stage of learning to enjoy solitude.

Hearing the joke, Maldren smiled and nodded:

“I’ll have my wife prepare a good meal and introduce you to my children, Dick. Come back alive.”

“Will do,” Dick said, tightening the reins as the Tab sheep galloped into the night toward Oronar City.

The guards on patrol were all Maldren’s trusted men, aware of Dick’s mission. They stopped to salute this once mediocre but now courageous comrade facing his fate.

At the Academy gates, Senior Guard Quaram personally commanded massive arcane sentinels to clear Dick’s path.

As Dick glanced back, he saw the old guard standing on a tower, saluting him.

“This atmosphere makes it seem like I’m heading to my death. Ah, you Eredar are such a bad omen...” Dick quipped atop his galloping mount.

For him, leaving the Academy felt like freedom. After thirty years among colleagues, he had to maintain the “Diakum” persona, mimic their speech, and refrain from joking freely. But his true self yearned to be more carefree.

“Now the sea is wide for fish to leap, the sky high for birds to fly.”

After an hour’s ride, Dick took out a device to contact the Assassins’ Court, pressing it to shatter the rune stone. Resting at a pavilion near the largest local water source, Lake Eredas, he casually fashioned a crude fishing rod and cast it into the water, awaiting Targas’s subordinate.

Moments later, the rod twitched. Dick pulled it up, only to see a brightly colored water snake coiled on the line.

He removed the creature, prepared to toss it back, then recalled that millennia hence, a dangerous giant serpent would haunt this water source.

It was hard to say if that monster was this wriggling “little darling.”

“Hmm, I recall your name is ‘Sirisorn.’ I don’t know if that’s your personal or species name, but I know you, like the Eredar, live long. If you eat enough demons and mutate, maybe you’ll live longer.”

Dick spoke to the struggling snake:

“Go back and hide. Don’t roam until you grow strong. When demons invade, remember to eat plenty of demon spawn and vent your fury on this doomed world.

Perhaps we’ll meet again in a distant future, little one.

Good luck to you, and to me.”

He tossed the snake back into the water and then heard a teasing voice behind him:

“For someone about to undertake a dangerous mission, your attitude is surprisingly good, Mr. Diakum.”

Dick shrugged and turned to see a woman from the Assassins’ Court with white hair, carrying a sapphire-hilted sniper rifle.

“Even at my worst, I can’t refuse Commander Kil’jaeden’s secret orders. I have to keep my balance. So, shall we depart, formidable lady?”

“Oh, quite the talker—not like a rigid guard officer,” the woman said with a smile beneath her assassin’s mask, pointing to the ray-like flying mount behind her.

“Follow me. I’ve been waiting for you. I’m Nari, Captain of the Assassins’ Court’s elite rangers. Pleasure working with you.”