Adrian carefully thought about it…for a long ti, whether he should tell Ariana or not. But then he realized he had a route that won't cause suspicion.
And that route was abduction.
He weaved a story and only gave her that much information, which would allow Ariana to take necessary counterasures.
Naturally, she couldn't prepare to completely subdue what was to co, but she, at least, would be ntally prepared for an ambush.
'I need to give most of my ti to the artifacts…' It was disheartening, but Adrian had to sacrifice his ti from the studies for the ti being and focus on the production.
He was in his workshop, having finished the thirteenth artifact just now.
He has five ice-based, three fla-based, and the rest, light-based.
He has already discerned where he would be planting the artifacts, and he has gotten Ariana's permission too.
However, his work was far from finished.
He needs earth and air elents, too. He has water elent, but creating artifacts with his attribute…doesn't sound like a good plan. And Adrian doesn't want to waste the heartstone.
There was no supply of the Heartstone to the academy, which is why he needs to tread carefully.
Truth be told, the elent of Darkness would have been best for traps…but there isn't a single student in the academy with that elent, and he couldn't ask the fourth-ranked Vermillion to be his test subject.
'Forget it…I will do with what I have.' Stretching his arms, he twisted his neck slightly.
Suddenly, his eyes landed on the bullet he had split for inspection. It was still on the table and under the lamp—several things written on the table—about the bullet.
However, there was no progression in that field.
He has twenty-five bullets in hand, and half of them are tuned.
He has tuned the bullets for mostly offense. He bought a belt that he could tie around his waist, and he can place bullets in each compartnt. Once he morizes which compartnt contains which bullet, he will be able to deal with the danger efficiently.
'Okay, enough thinking, it's ti for work…'
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*SWISH*
Sylvie walked slowly toward the man, swinging his sword again and again in the empty training field.
It was late. The hilltop was quiet and still. No other students were around—most were either asleep or cramming for exams, which started tomorrow.
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" the Princess asked. She wore a cozy sweater, hugging it close as a chilly wind brushed past.
Allen didn't stop. He kept swinging, his breath heavy. Sweat clung to his bare upper body, shining under the pale light of the moon.
"Studying's tough," he said, finally lowering his sword. "Felt like I was about to lose it. So I ca out here... figured I'd do sothing I actually enjoy."
Sylvie let out a quiet sigh, her breath curling in the cold air as she stood beside him in the stillness.
"Injuring yourself the night before exams… how smart of you," she said, her voice calm but with a hint of concern.
She sat down on a nearby bench, her eyes settling on the thin cut along his forearm.
Allen chuckled, brushing his hand across it like it was nothing. "Just got a little too excited," he said lightly.
But that wasn't the whole truth.
He hadn't co out just to relax. He wanted—no, needed—to feel the power in his hands. The Professor had just finished tuning his new armant, and Allen couldn't resist trying it out.
If not for the mid-terms, he would've spent the whole day testing it, pushing its limits, maybe even going on a few hunts just to see what it could really do.
The power of Light—it was more than just strong. It felt alive. It pulsed through him like fire and thunder all at once. Beautiful, bright… and overwhelming.
Sotis it scared him. Other tis, it made him feel unstoppable.
However, he decided to stop now. As Sylvie said, it was late.
He picked up a dry towel and began wiping the sweat from his body. After a short pause, he glanced at her and said, "For you to give up your precious study ti and co all the way here… I doubt it's just because you were worried about ."
He was right.
But before sharing the real reason, Sylvie asked, "You've been going to Professor Adrian's workshop a lot lately. What exactly are you doing there?"
She made it sound like he'd been visiting for weeks, but in truth, it had only been the past three days—and even then, just an hour or two each ti.
Allen smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Why the sudden curiosity?"
Sylvie clicked her tongue, clearly annoyed. "Just answer."
That reaction caught him off guard. Still, he didn't push her any further. Instead, he replied calmly, "He's been building these strange tools using my affinity. He said he wants to show them off at so exhibition and sell them."
"That's a lie," Sylvie said quietly, almost before she realized she was speaking.
Allen blinked. "A lie? What makes you say that? I an, maybe he needs money or has sothing he wants to buy—"
"Allen," she cut in, her tone sharper now. "Do you really think, after seeing what his armants are capable of, that he'd just put them out for sale?"
Allen's thoughts drifted back to the mory of this very battleground, when Professor Norma used one of Adrian's weapons. Or to that mont during the third round of the contest, when senior Elana unleashed sothing terrifying with an artifact crafted by him.
Sylvie stood up, her eyes serious. "Let's not pretend. The headmistress would hand over her life savings before she ever lets him sell those things. Professor Adrian isn't making tools for an exhibit. He's preparing for sothing."
Allen's brows pulled together. "How can you be so sure? And… what do you an he's preparing? For what?" He paused, then added quietly, "Couldn't it just be his trauma? After being abducted… maybe he's just making sure he's ready if sothing like that happens again."
Sylvie looked away.
She couldn't explain it to him.
Not without telling him sothing she wasn't supposed to reveal.
She had read his thoughts again, without aning to. It had happened suddenly, like a voice echoing through a crack in the wall.
And the voice inside him had made her chest tighten with unease:
"I hope she brings the Wardens here before the ambush."
That word—ambush—rang loudly in her mind, as if the professor had shouted it. She tried to listen further, tried to reach deeper, but his thoughts slipped away into silence. Either his mind was closed off, or her powers weren't working right.
She couldn't tell.
But what she did know was enough to make sense of his long hours in the workshop, the secrecy, the rushed designs. He wasn't creating for curiosity or pride. He was preparing for sothing. Sothing dangerous.
Sylvie stayed quiet, her fingers gripping the edge of the bench. A single thought pushed its way through the storm in her head:
Should I contact my brother?
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A/N:- Stop it, you fool. Thanks for reading. Make sure to drop a comnt.
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