The projection on the office wall snapped into total blackness. The loss of the live feed plunged the room into shadows right after the towering angel crushed the owl.
The Grandmaster grabbed the edge of his embroidered robe and marched directly toward the wooden double doors.
Balzac stepped away from the utility cart and blocked the exit. The professor crossed his arms over his chest to physically halt the elderly man. "Where are you rushing off to right now?"
The Grandmaster grabbed the brass door handle and twisted it violently. "I am going straight to the Ruined Kingdom of Eden to pull Solomon and the other three out of that crater. Step aside."
"Would you actually be sprinting out of this office if he was just an ordinary student?" Balzac asked, planting his boots firmly on the floorboards. "Are you throwing yourself into an active anomaly purely to save a boy, or are you just trying to protect the academy’s precious Millennium Ticket holder?"
The Grandmaster shoved the professor’s shoulder and pulled the solid doors open. "I have absolutely zero minutes to waste on your debates. I have to reach that cathedral before the angel turns all of them into a pile of ashes."
He stepped out into the brightly lit corridor and broke into a rapid jog. Balzac abandoned his utility cart and hurried down the hallway to keep pace with the elderly man. Students pressed themselves against the marble walls to avoid the two sprinting professors.
"The very last fra of that broadcast showed the angel completely severing Solomon’s dominant arm," the Grandmaster stated while navigating a sharp corner. "A severed limb dictates the end of a swordsman’s entire career. If I fail to bring an S-rank healer to his location within exactly one hour, the boy will never hold a blade again."
Balzac matched his stride down the corridor. "Last I checked, you were not a healer, Grandmaster."
"I will take Professor Delphine with ," the Grandmaster replied, increasing his pace toward the teleportation wing.
"If an angel is actively involved in this ss, the Church Association will definitely intervene," Balzac warned, grabbing the older man’s sleeve to force a halt. "You should carefully consider your current position as the head of this academy. You are about to create a political disaster that will take years to clean up."
The Grandmaster stopped walking and stared at the marble floor tiles. He tugged his sleeve free from the professor’s grip.
The Church Association functioned as an untouchable coalition representing all major religious factions. High priests from every single godly domain practiced within their ranks, wielding enough magical and political influence to topple entire governnts. Crossing them practically guaranteed a swift execution for heresy.
"Solomon is rely a first-year student," the Grandmaster argued, looking back up. "The first-year broadcasts haven’t officially started yet. He entered the labyrinth early. The Church is far too busy dealing with actual world events to monitor an unannounced rookie stream."
Balzac reached into his pocket and pulled out a portable crystal tablet. He tapped the glass screen a few tis and shoved the device directly into the Grandmaster’s hands.
"You need to look at his actual stream statistics," Balzac countered. "He accumulated nearly three thousand followers before he even left the beginner zones. The view count jumped to twenty-one thousand the second he entered the Eden Palace. Those numbers skyrocketed even higher when he stepped into the cathedral and encountered the angel."
The Grandmaster stared at the glowing digits on the crystal display. His grip tightened around the edges of the tablet.
"Thousands of people just watched a divine entity," Balzac continued, gesturing to the screen. "Countless viewers have already clipped the footage and posted it across the global forums. The entire world knows what is happening in those ruins. How exactly do you plan to stop the Church from seeing those clips?"
The Grandmaster stared at the glowing digits on the crystal display. The political fallout would definitely scorch the academy’s reputation. He lowered the tablet and turned his gaze directly toward Balzac.
"Perhaps you should be the one to go," the Grandmaster suggested. He shoved the crystal device back into the professor’s chest. "You possess the specific capabilities to handle an angelic entity easily. The Church Association’s political threats an absolutely nothing to soone with your background."
Balzac swatted the tablet away and crossed his arms. "I am rely a proxy instructor. The upper administration sent to this academy strictly as a punishnt." He leaned his back against the marble corridor wall. "Causing a catastrophic incident with the heavens will extend my sentence. I would gladly dive off the astronomy tower before spending another decade teaching first-year brats."
"I will take the entire bla," the Grandmaster promised, stepping closer to the younger man. "I will sign official docunts stating you acted entirely under my direct administrative orders. The Church will aim their crosshairs at my office." He gripped Balzac’s shoulder tightly. "I will also grant you that paid vacation imdiately. You will avoid stepping foot inside a classroom for the rest of the sester."
Balzac rubbed his chin and stared at the polished floorboards. He calculated the exact value of the offer while adjusting his wrinkled coat. "I want the research budget tripled, just like you offered earlier," Balzac demanded. "I also require exemption from all morning lectures for the next three years. Furthermore, the administration will cover my entire tab at the Silver Lily tavern."
"Agreed," the Grandmaster answered without letting a single second pass.
A wide grin stretched across Balzac’s face. He patted the Grandmaster’s hand and pulled away from the wall. "It is the fundantal duty of an esteed professor to fiercely protect his students from harm," Balzac declared smoothly, pulling his collar straight. "I will march down to that ruined palace and bring Solomon back. Assuming the boy hasn’t already bled to death on the marble floor."
Balzac spun around on his heel and walked briskly down the corridor. He bypassed the standard student portals entirely. He headed straight toward the Astral Terminus, the highly restricted hub where the faculty managed interdinsional travel and ergency extractions.
Students, professors, and random visitors crowded the marble floor of the Astral Terminus. People murmured and pointed toward the deactivated archways, entirely confused about the sudden lockdown.
Balzac shoved his way through the dense crowd. He ignored the complaints of the students and marched directly toward the specific gate linked to the Ruined Kingdom of Eden.
A line of armored guards stood firmly in front of the dormant stone archway. Balzac pushed a tall knight aside and reached for the runic control panel. A second guard instantly grabbed the professor’s wrist and pulled his hand away from the terminal.
"The portal is closed," the armored man stated, blocking the control panel with his broad shoulders. "We received urgent reports regarding severe dinsional malfunctions inside the Eden labyrinth. The dinsional administration ordered a total lockdown until the issue is inspected and fixed."
Balzac yanked his arm free and scowled at the guard. "Turn it back on right now. How much ti will it take to bypass the lockdown?"
The guard shook his head and crossed his arms over his chestplate. "That is impossible. The technicians severed the spatial connection totally to stop the anomaly from spreading. We must prevent those monsters from coming to the academy."
Balzac stepped back from the deactivated gate and bit his thumbnail. His promised vacation and the limitless tavern tab were slipping right through his fingers. He furrowed his brows and stared at the dark, empty space within the stone archway.
’Why is the Grandmaster so concerned about Solomon?’ Balzac thought, rubbing the back of his neck. ’Based on his combat footage, the boy definitely has a chance of winning as long as he avoids a fatigued condition.’
He recalled the final fra of the broadcast showing the angel severing Solomon’s arm. That specific injury complicated the survival odds significantly. Fortunately, a sudden realization smoothed the wrinkles on his forehead.
’Everything will turn out fine,’ Balzac reasoned, letting his arms drop to his sides. ’Vlad of the fallen kingdom is currently down there with him.’
At the sa ti, Solomon blinked his eyes open, staring up at the fractured stained-glass ceiling of the cathedral.
He shifted his weight against the broken marble and imdiately noticed the glaring emptiness at the end of his right arm. The stump remained a jagged ruin of flesh, unrestored by his awakening.
’Of course... fatigue and injury are different,’ Solomon thought. He flexed his left hand and pushed himself into a crouch. ’I was expecting my injuries to be healed too. Fortunately, I don’t feel tired at all.’
He glanced to his side and made eye contact with Vlad, who was keeping Uriel busy. Taking the silent cue, Solomon quietly slipped through the debris, stealthily making his way toward his fallen weapon.
"That is entirely impossible! Lumina personally promised absolute power! The creator of Eden cannot perish!"
"Even if I just lied to you, that statent will soon beco reality."
Uriel instinctively snapped his golden eyes away from the prince and looked directly at the crater. Solomon stood entirely upright amidst the rubble.
The boy’s eyes were completely open and glowing with a brilliant silver light.
Solomon imdiately used an aura sword and executed the first form of the Eden Imperial Sword Arts.
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