Silence consumed the room.
I looked at her, deciding whether to take the easy route and break her—or to be more lenient, for old times' sake.
"What makes you think there has to be a plan behind this engagement?" I asked with feigned innocence. "Can't I simply be in love or something?"
"Ha! I've heard plenty of jokes in my life, but this…" Elena let out a dry laugh, crossing her legs and arms.
The movement emphasized her deadly legs and a figure that surpassed any woman I had seen in this world; even Princess Elara's curves paled before this woman's imposing maturity.
"Don't play the angel, Varkas. I saw you kill without hesitation that night. Someone like you—who, even as a child, looked at life with such disregard—doesn't fall for something as mundane as love."
"Are you so sure?" I stepped closer, invading her space until our breaths nearly mingled.
I looked down at her, forcing her to meet my gaze. Elena didn't retreat; her seventh-circle mana vibrated in the air like a warning—but her pupils dilated at my proximity. There was challenge in her expression… and something almost primal.
"I don't really understand why you see me so negatively, Elena," I whispered, letting a fraction of my true presence seep into the room. "Perhaps it's because you carry secrets that terrify you—and you project that fear onto me."
Elena swallowed. For a moment, the "genius professor" mask cracked.
"If you try to play me like you did that black magic girl… or the princess…" she began, her voice rougher, "I promise you it will cost you far more than a simple sword trick."
I didn't step back.
If anything, I closed the distance until only millimeters separated us. I could see the pulse racing in her neck, her instincts warring against an attraction she couldn't explain.
"Are you threatening me, Elena?" I murmured. "Because we both know that if you truly wanted to stop me, you would've called the guards—or used that seventh circle you're so proud of. Yet here you are, alone with me, in a closed room."
I reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her shoulder. She tensed—but didn't pull away.
"Tell me the truth," I continued softly. "You didn't bring me here because of yesterday's duel… or the engagement."
Elena clenched her fists. For a moment, the unyielding teacher vanished—revealing the wounded girl beneath.
"When I was a child, my parents were used as sacrifices by the Lumen Cult," she said, her voice trembling. "They still believe they can bring back the era when forbidden magic and the Impure ruled. I thought that if I became stronger, I could one day take revenge. But the higher I climb… the more I see the truth."
She stared at her trembling hands.
"This Empire… the Clergy… they're all involved in one way or another. They turn a blind eye to what happens to commoners because, to them, we don't matter. If you're not high-born or overwhelmingly talented, they let it happen. And alone, no matter how hard I try…"
She stopped.
"Even with my master's help…" she added, her voice breaking under the weight of years of futile struggle.
"I see," I said calmly. "You're seeking justice in a world that only understands hierarchy. You believed the system would give you the tools to destroy those who took everything from you… only to discover the system is the one holding the knife."
I stepped closer again, ignoring the seventh-circle pressure still humming in the air.
"Tell me, Elena," I whispered, forcing her to meet my gaze, "what are you willing to give to make that Cult disappear? Because I am not a hero. If I deal with this for you, I need to know whether you're ready to be the first to burn in the process."
Elena held my gaze—and this time, there was no trace of a teacher. Only resolve born from years of hatred.
"I've been dead inside since that day, Varkas," she said coldly. "If you're the monster that can devour the Cult, then do whatever you want with me. Just give me their heads."
I smiled faintly.
That settled it.
"Then we have a deal. But remember—from now on, you will not interfere with me."
She froze.
"You'll have to prove you can actually handle them first," Elena replied, regaining some composure. "I have an idea of your strength, but I don't believe you can take on an organization that has existed for centuries and has roots in every layer of the Empire."
I looked at her thoughtfully, letting silence weigh between us.
"You want proof?" I smiled—a smile that promised nothing good. "Do you have anything that belongs to that cult? Anything will do. Preferably blood—or an object tied to a high-ranking member."
Confused, she searched through her locked drawers. Eventually, she pulled out a carved dagger that radiated a sinister presence.
"This was the weapon they used to kill my parents," she confessed, her voice trembling slightly. "Will it do?"
"How ironic," I said, taking it. "What killed your parents will be what ends them."
It had been a long time since I last did what I was about to do.
Manipulating the laws of Fate—establishing such a deep connection from a single object—would exhaust any mage in this world.
For me, it was like recalling an old song.
I closed my eyes and let my true essence flow into the dagger. Not mana—but something deeper. The dark metal began to glow with a dim violet light. The air grew heavy. The walls creaked. Elena's seventh circle collapsed instantly—not from force, but from the weight of an authority that did not belong to magic… but to the origin of existence itself.
"Watch carefully, Elena," I whispered.
Threads of red, black, white, purple, and more emerged from the blade, weaving through the air like veins.
"These are the threads of their existence. Every vibration, every heartbeat of those who touched this steel… now belongs to me."
Elena staggered back into the wall, eyes wide. It wasn't just fear—it was understanding.
I wasn't a genius.
I wasn't a prodigy.
I was something this Empire did not have a word for.
"And if you look closely, those directly connected to the cult have a distinct tone. If we extend these threads and trace those hiding across the world…"
Suddenly, the room filled with threads—thousands of them, piercing walls, floor, and ceiling. The office became the center of a cosmic web, a network of destiny she couldn't begin to comprehend.
"Now," I continued, grabbing one thread that pulsed differently, "there's nowhere left to hide. Every sacrifice, every ritual, every life they've taken left a mark—and I've just claimed it."
Elena stood frozen. She reached out with trembling fingers, trying to touch one of the threads—but her hand passed through it like starlit smoke.
Understanding struck her.
This wasn't magic.
It was causality itself.
"Tell me, Elena," I said, turning toward her, the threads reflecting an absolute void in my eyes, "which thread do you want me to pull first?"
She dropped to her knees.
Her seventh circle felt like a drop of water before a raging ocean.
"Any of them…" she whispered, broken. "Just… make them pay."
With a subtle motion of my hand, all the threads tightened at once, releasing a hum that made the very foundations of the Academy tremble.