Chapter 76: Everyone Hates Finals

Sen reached the stairwell in the moments before the last books exploded, releasing their magical energy into the air around them. He shot up, taking four or five steps at a time, reached the top and dove to the side. He pushed bookshelves out of the way with his mana and rolled onto his back. Sen held up a hand and summoned the Shield Lord’s shield spell to cover the exit. In the midst of the underground library, it would do little, but at least here it should help contain the blast. 

Hopefully. 

The entire school quaked, but thankfully the magical force was contained beneath the school and the foundation held. 

He let his head fall back against the carpet of the library and stared up at its ceiling. He enjoyed the ornate pattern for all of a few seconds before a giant black wolf stepped into his view, looking past its snout at him. Orttha still hung loosely on its back. “At least you made it out,” he said. Patting the wolf and jumping up. He looked around and saw the other wolf dangling the dean in its mouth. 

Withershade protested, swinging his arms and legs to free himself, to no avail. The wolf stared blankly ahead, uninterested in its prey. Sen smiled at that. “Come, friends, let’s go check on everyone.”

He ran his senses over Orttha and frowned. The old man was in bad shape. He hadn’t been taken easily then. “Total Restoration,” he said. The worst of his weariness and injuries should heal with that. 

Sen expected to retrieve his friends personally, with the severity of their injuries and how hard they’d been forced to fight. But Sikar and Ladia had handled that. He found them all waiting in the lobby of Bright Sail Academy. Mori had joined them and was already tending to Samara’s injuries. That made Sen feel better; he’d worried about the extent of how badly she’d been hurt. But it just made her victory that much more impressive. 

Samara grinned when she saw him. Ilm smiled brightly. Milim looked ready to run toward him until she saw the giant wolves, and then she froze where she stood. 

Sikar and Ladia both stood. Their mouths agape when they saw the dean hanging from a large wolfs mouth. “What is happening?” Ladia asked, tearing her gaze between Sen and the dean.

Withershade seized his opportunity. “Help me at once! Sen’s gone crazy! He attacked me and—”

Sikar raised his staff and brought it crashing down on the dean’s head, knocking him out. “A liar until the end. We’ll deal with him from here.”

Sen nodded his consent, and the wolf dropped Withershade. He had no problem turning the dean over to Sikar. He’d cast several spells to ensure Withershade wouldn’t be able to reveal Sen’s true identity. The other wolf lowered itself. Sen moved and took hold of old Orttha with Mana Aggression bolstering his strength. With their burdens relieved, Sen released the summoning spell, and they dissipated into black mist. He’d allow them to rest after their good work. Milim ran as soon as she laid eyes on Orttha. “Is he okay?” she asked.

Sen frowned. “I healed him, but he still hasn’t woken up. I’m not quite sure what’s going on.”

Sikar eyed him, running his senses over the librarian. “He likely needs rest. He may have exhausted his mana.” The professor held his arms out. “Let me take him. You all have done enough. I’ll get him the care he needs, and we’ll handle things from here.”

Sen allowed Sikar to take the librarian from him. The truth was that all of them needed rest. Orttha would be in excellent hands. Sikar cast a spell, and a tether formed at his waist and shot out to wrap around the dean’s body. He headed for the stairs. In his arms he carried Orttha gently; behind him Withershade’s body dragged limply along the ground. His head smacked into each step as Sikar climbed. Sen stifled his amusement. 

Ladia shook her head. “By the way, all of you passed. Mori explained what happened. From how we found you, those spirits were a lot rougher than we planned to be, and all of you came out on top. Provided all of your written exams went well, you’ll be moving forward! So congrats!” She beamed at them and hurried after Sikar up the stairs. 

Milim watched Orttha disappear up the steps, but resolve spread over her expression. She’d come to the same conclusion as Sen had: Orttha would be okay. 

She turned her attention to him, and the others joined as well. “What happened?” Samara asked. “I can’t believe you beat up the dean!” 

Sen recounted the events to them. The truth of Bright Sail Academy’s founding, Remias Brightsail, and the library the Scholar Lord had built under the school. When he was finished, everyone stared at him incredulously. 

“That reminds me,” Sen said. He reached inside his cloak and discreetly opened his temporal world. He pulled out two books. The Book of the Shield Lord, and the Book of the Lord of Sickles. He handed the Shield Lord’s book to Mori, who already specialized in defense and barriers. The other book he handed to Ilm. 

Mori reacted as if Sen had given him a pouch of gold or several. He clutched the book to his chest before realizing and regathering his composure. He bowed slightly. “Thank you, Mast—Sen.” He caught himself.

Ilm stared blankly at her own book. “I’m more of a ranged fighter…” she said. “Are you sure I should be the one to take it? What if Samara could use it more effectively?” She looked toward her purple-haired friend. 

Samara waved a hand and gestured with her head towards the sword on her back. “If you think I’m trading my sword for a sickle, your final exam must’ve hit harder than I thought! Sickles all yours, Ill.” She smiled.

Sen smiled. “I saw part of your fight.” He couldn’t say that the memories were his, but she knew. “You fought well. I think the techniques in this book will help fuel your growth. Keep training, and you’ll learn. There are instructions inside that will help us make weapons of your own. We’ll do that soon.”

Ilm’s eyes brightened, and he could almost imagine her dancing across the battlefield with twin sickles. Though he wouldn’t infuse them with shadows. He’d find something more appropriate for her abilities. He smiled. “Let’s go rest up. It’s been a long day.”

He fell behind as his friends chatted on the way back to the dorm. Finally, he allowed the notifications he’d been delaying to pop up.

[Level Up]

Name: Sen Locke

Class: God of Magic

Level: 7

[Mana Aggression +6]

[Mana Encapsulation +3]

[Mana Protection +5] 

Strength/Mana Aggression: 118 —> 124

Speed/Mana Encapsulation: 126 —> 129

Magic: 159

Constitution/Mana Protection: 115 —> 120

Mana Points: 999,999,999+

[You have received ten stat points.]

[You have received an essence sphere upgrade.]

That was interesting. Upgrading a rare essence sphere to a higher grade would always prove useful for crafting.

Other notifications popped up unrelated to leveling up.

[You have consumed the book spirit of the Queen of Gardens.]

[Innate understanding of the ‘Garden’ Maximizer gained.]

[Innate understanding of the ‘Bloom’ Modifier gained.]

The proprietary Maximizer of a queen-level mage was huge. Not to mention he’d learned several spells in the underground library. [Soul Chain], [Mana Punch Echo], and thanks to the memory the Scholar lord had shown him [Candle Lance.]

[The Black Wolf Pack Leader has used Devour on the Spirit of the Queen of Garden.]

[The Black Wolf Pack Leader’s power has increased from Knight Commander Rank to Noble Rank.] 

[The Black Wolf Pack Leader has attained the “Void Druid” class.]

[The Wolf Pack has advanced from Squire Rank to Knight Rank.]

Dean Withershade 

When he awoke, he was in his chair at the head of the faculty table. His head throbbed, and his mana was still drained to the last drop. He looked around at the slew of familiar but unhappy faces. Something wrapped around him, tethering him to his chair, and he looked down to see rope. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

Professor Sikar sat with crossed arms. “We should be the ones asking you that question. Your spirits took us hostage, and then you attacked students.”

The dean scoffed. “You’d believe that boy over the dean of your academy, Sikar? Truly?” 

He found very little sympathy in their eyes. That approach wouldn’t work. He shifted in his chair, what little he could, anyway. Withershade sighed. “The Scholar Lord would have wiped us out had I not aided him. I acted…in a way I’m not proud of. But I did so to protect the academy! We were like flies to him, had he willed it, he could’ve taken the entire town and wiped it into dust. He could’ve rebuilt easily in the wreckage. Appeasing him was our only solution.” 

“Possibly,” Professor Crosp conceded. “But that wasn’t your decision to make alone, Withershade. You placed students in danger, and an investigation will need to be held. We’re still looking into the waste beneath the school, but an eyewitness testified you had scores of shelves filled with books named after dead students. We need to be sure you didn’t have a more…active hand in those deaths. In the meantime, I move to remove you as Dean of Bright Sail Academy. We cannot afford to let our institution be led by someone so reckless. Together, we might’ve stopped this ghost from terrorizing our school. But you did not give us the chance.”

“Remove me? Are you mad? You don’t have the votes. Surely you see that what I did was the right path forward? We couldn’t have won.” 

Ladia shook her head. “And yet, a first-year student defeated you and the Lord of Scholars. Despite that fact, you believe the full force of our faculty and staff wouldn’t have been enough? I have my doubts about that, Withershade.”

That was unusually aggressive for Ladia, but it was clear an alliance had formed. Still, they’d need a unanimous vote to remove him. A vote they almost certainly didn’t have. 

He paused. All hands in the room were raised. He shook his head. “What?” He looked around. Professor Tide? Professor Ama? Truly? They’d always voted for him. He hesitated when he remembered why they’d always supported him. They’d done so because Professor Calabari had kept them in check. He realized his foolishness now. Calabari would’ve supported him in this. Calabari would’ve stood by him. The dean had sacrificed his greatest ally to appease the people who now sought to overthrow him. It was tragically poetic, in a way. But he would go out with his head held high. “Very well. After the school year is over, I’ll make arrangements to—”

Sikar held up a hand. “Come in,” he called. 

Withershade looked toward the door as city guards entered. His brows lifted. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. 

Sikar shook his head. “You’re a criminal by all accounts, Withershade. Did you really believe we’d let you walk out of here? You’ll spend the rest of your life in prison. And that’s only if they don’t have you executed.”

“What?” He pulled back against his ropes. “You can’t do this to me!” 

He screamed as they dragged him down the stairs in front of students. He resisted as they dragged him through the streets. Withershade didn’t stop fighting to free himself until the moment they threw him in a cell. As the door to his cell latched shut, he realized this new reality would be an unpleasant one. Then he cursed the Scholar Lord and that white-haired first-year student he should’ve expelled months ago.