Novel Full Chapter 1243 Professor Lane’s Concern
Chapter 1243 Professor Lane’s Concern
As the debate continued, Eve’s resolve crystallized into action. With a casual flick of her wrist, her hammer, intricately engraved with various runes, materialized in her grasp. The room watched in silent awe as she swung the hammer above her head and propelled herself through the roof, leaving a trail of lightning bolts in her wake. The boldness of her departure left her companions in a momentary state of stunned silence.
Once the echoes of her departure faded, Azazel broke the silence, his voice carrying a weight of responsibility. “I’ll talk with my contact in Mazeroth. We’ll have extra eyes on Harry at all times,” he declared, his tone leaving no room for doubt about his commitment to their safety.
Trista, ever cautious, voiced the concern that lingered unspoken among them. “And how sure are we that this contact of yours won’t betray us?” she asked, her skepticism evident.
Lenora, leaning forward with interest, added to the inquiry. “Yeah, you and Eve never even told us who this mysterious contact of yours is,” she pointed out, her curiosity piqued.
Hearing the two elder vampires’ question, Azazel allowed a rare chuckle to escape before replying with a hint of mischief in his tone. “Let’s just say he’s someone very bloody important in Mazeroth,” he teased, his assurance doing little to quell the curiosity but enough to instill a sense of confidence in his judgment.
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Meanwhile, inside Headmaster Wulfric’s office at the Mazeroth Academy, Wulfric and Professor Lane stood side by side at the window, their gazes fixed on the dark rain clouds that shrouded their academy. The ominous rumble of thunder filled the air, a stark contrast to the absence of rain. Since Michael’s defeat of Rainar, the god of rain, the mortal realm had been left puzzled by the persistent storm clouds that yielded no rain. Yet, Lane and Wulfric were far from ordinary; they knew all too well the truth behind the phenomenon. The god responsible for rain had been slain, a fact the Empress of the Awor continent, Nithroel, was certain of.
Gazing out at the brewing storm, Lane’s voice, cool and measured, broke the silence. “There is a storm approaching us, Wulfric,” he observed, his tone betraying no emotion.
“And Harry finds himself in the center of it once again,” Wulfric, his eyes still fixed on the darkening sky, nodded in agreement. A note of concern in his voice for the boy who seemed perpetually caught in the eye of tempests not of his own making.
Lane, his expression unchanged, responded with a cold clarity. “It seems Harry is the only chip in the Dark Lord’s armor,” he remarked, his words heavy with the implication that Harry’s unique position could be both a vulnerability and a strength in the present and future. As the storm clouds gathered ominously outside, Lane’s thoughts drifted to the past. “I can still remember him in my classroom, meticulously learning the art of potion making. Despite being naturally adept, he always sought to refine his skills further,” Lane reflected, his voice betraying a hint of nostalgia.
Wulfric, intrigued by this glimpse into the past, queried with a half-smile, “Had you known then that he was to become the Dark Lord, would you have ceased teaching him?”
Lane’s response was measured, his tone even. “All I saw was a student who, albeit better than most, strived for excellence. Yet, beneath the surface, there was always a shadow, something… darker,” he admitted. “His thirst for power and knowledge was evident even then. That very pursuit has now entangled innocents like Harry and Layla in the web of dangers that pervade our world.”
The conversation took a turn as Lane considered Harry’s current predicament. “As for Harry,” he began. “I’ve always been wary. He could sway towards darkness or light, depending on the choices he makes. It’s a damn tightrope walk, and the winds are picking up.”
Lane’s insights offered a sobering reminder of the fine line between good and evil, a line that Harry, much like his father before him, was forced to navigate. “That’s precisely why we must stand by Harry, to guide him towards the light, to ensure he becomes a force for good, surpassing even his father,” Wulfric asserted, his voice bearing the weight of their duty.
Lane, his gaze still fixed on the turbulent skies outside, countered thoughtfully, “We can’t lay all the blame at the Dark Lord’s feet. His destiny was shaped not just by his own choices but by those made for him—by the elders, by the prophecy of Qin Jiu, by the very fabric of our world manipulated by those in the Skyhall who believed they could outsmart fate,”
Hearing Lane, Wulfric could only sigh. Fortunately, the Skyhall’s grasp upon the world has been significantly weaken after Noah rose to power as well as the growing number of dark forces led by Eve Voldiguard. While Noah upheld honor, bravery and kindness, the dark forces strengthened themselves by weaving a web of connections and manipulating those in power in various organizations. This had ultimately led to the weakening of Skyhall.
“Indeed, some paths, once embarked upon, cannot be altered. The die is cast, and we must play the hand we’re dealt.”
Wulfric’s words instantly turned Lane’s thoughts toward his own family.
“Choices define us, whether they’re ours to make or forced upon us. They’re the crucible in which our true selves are forged,” Lane said.
Catching the underlying current of Lane’s words, Wulfric inquired softly, “Are you referring to your niece, Eve Voldiguard?”
Lane let out a slight sigh, acknowledging the painful truth of his situation.
“Eve made her choice clear—standing by the Dark Lord’s side, rather than with her family.”
In response, Wulfric offered a gentle smile. “Sometimes, protecting your family means keeping your distance, Lane. You’ve been doing just that all these years.”
Reflecting on his tangled history with the Voldiguard family, Lane chose not to dive deeper into his past. It had been so long since Lane gave any thoughts about his family. But the news of Eve Voldiguard and her actions had been a constant reminder for Lane about his family. As much as he liked to distance himself from the Voldiguard family and the quarrels of the outside world, his niece leading the Dark Lord’s forces in the shadows and fighting to take over the world was too much to ignore. As though Wulfric had sensed Lane’s thoughts, Wulfric chuckled a bit. “You needn’t worry about Eve. Perhaps, in aligning herself with the Dark Lord and covertly leading his forces in his absence, she’s made the wisest choice of all.” Despite Wulfric’s words, Lane knew Eve’s life had been changed to worse the moment she chose to be with the Dark Lord. She could have been more but now, until she could rise atop the odds placed against her, she would be always viewed as evil.
“Eve’s too deep into the shadows now, beyond our reach. But Harry… he’s still teetering on the edge, wrestling with the darkness within him,” he mused, his tone laced with concern.
“What do you mean?” Wulfric probed further. “I see in Harry the same darkness that lurked in Ghost’s eyes. His mother’s kindness and our guidance keep him anchored, but the essence of his father lingers within him. And his placement in the Warrior House hasn’t exactly been tempering those impulses,” Lane observed, his analysis sharp.
Considering Lane’s words, Wulfric pondered the implications. “You think he should have been sorted into the Runemasters or Alchemists House, then?” he asked, seeking clarification.
“Yes, it might have steered him towards a different path.” Lane nodded.
However, Wulfric gently disagreed. “A person’s nature isn’t dictated by their house, Lane. It’s our responsibility, as his mentors, to ensure Harry views the world through a lens distinct from his father’s,”
Since Lane had been keeping an eye on Harry, he knew about him better than the other professors. In addition, Lane had used the Dark Lord’s name in front of Harry intentionally to test him, a way of Lane to discern where Harry’s heart lies. “I’ve noticed how Harry doesn’t react with anger at the mention of the Dark Lord. No resentment for the turmoil in his life or for leaving his mother. Instead, there’s an unmistakable look of admiration… perhaps even love.”
Wulfric absorbed Lane’s observation, thoughtful. “Family bonds are complex, not easily severed, nor should they be.”
“Such sentiments won’t shield him from the world’s judgment, Wulfric. If Harry chooses his father’s legacy above all else, we could very well be nurturing a second Dark Lord.” Lane frowned, showing his skepticism.
“Like his parents, Harry’s talents are formidable, potentially rivaling his father’s. Any misstep on our part, and the Dark Lord gains a powerful ally in his son.” He leaned in, emphasizing his next point.
“And also, do I need to remind you what Harry did to Mirian last week?” Lane’s voice carried a mix of seriousness and a hint of frustration, knowing well that Wulfric was already aware of the incident.
Wulfric, leaning back slightly, acknowledged the point. “Yes, I’ve heard about the duel. But go on,”
Lane continued, the memory clear in his mind. “During a supposedly friendly sparring session, Mirian decided it was a brilliant idea to provoke Harry by calling the Dark Lord a coward who was killed by his own brother.”
“And how did Harry react?” Wulfric prompted, even though the answer was obvious.
“With a ferocity that went far beyond the bounds of a friendly duel. It was as if Mirian’s words had flipped a switch within him, unleashing something primal. Harry’s counter wasn’t just a rebuttal; it was a statement,” Lane recounted, his tone betraying a hint of concern for the young boy’s volatile emotions.
“The lad’s got a temper, then. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? It’s about loyalty… and identity,” Wulfric mused, piecing together the implications of Harry’s outburst.
“Exactly,” Lane affirmed. “His reaction wasn’t just about defending his honor or responding to a provocation. It was a visceral defense of his father’s legacy, regardless of the Dark Lord’s deeds. That speaks volumes about Harry’s feelings towards his father, tangled as they may be.”
After reminding Wulfric about Harry’s actions, Lane took a few moments to carefully choose his next words.
“Whatever happens with the realm tear, Wulfric, we cannot afford to see Harry join his father. If that happened, they will make facing a hydra look like a walk in the park,”