Chapter 65 Phoenix witches.

Chapter 65: Chapter 65 Phoenix witches.

Mr. Oliver was in his office scrolling through his phone when a knock sounded at the door. His expression immediately stiffened as he wondered who could possibly be visiting him at a time like this.

Classes had been suspended indefinitely.

With the sudden outbreak of heats among omegas and ruts among alphas, every student had been ordered to remain inside the dormitories as a precaution against further chaos. There was nothing left for the teachers to supervise, and since Oliver had only recently been recruited, he still hadn’t fully understood how the academy truly operated behind the scenes.

"It’s open. Come in."

The doorknob slowly turned.

Oliver expected another staff member, but instead Lamia cautiously stepped inside with his head lowered.

A wave of relief washed over him.

It was only a student.

"Don’t just stand there," Oliver said with a small smile. "I promise I won’t bite."

Lamia stepped farther into the office but remained standing in a corner, making no attempt to sit.

"I’m serious," Oliver chuckled. "Sit down, boy. You’re making me look like the villain."

Lamia nodded before quietly taking a seat.

It wasn’t fear...

Not exactly.

Ever since he was little, he had been taught that omegas should always fear alphas, nobles and powerful figures. They could become someone’s scapegoat at any moment, so staying invisible was the safest option.

For years he avoided teachers’ offices, avoided attracting attention and buried himself inside a shell no one could break.

That only changed after Noah entered his life.

Somehow Noah had given him the courage to speak louder, stand taller and stop hiding behind everyone else.

But now...

Things had spiraled far beyond his control.

Although Rose was a witch just like him, she was only an ordinary moonlight witch. Lamia had hidden his true identity from her because he didn’t want to burden her with secrets she could never protect.

However...

With Noah’s destiny beginning to unravel, he could no longer afford to stay silent.

He was about to become a major player in whatever fate had prepared.

"I know you won’t bite me," Lamia finally spoke. "It’s just... your staff are suspicious."

Oliver blinked.

"It may look like you’re all working for the students’ benefit..." Lamia continued, "...but I know you aren’t."

Oliver frowned.

"Now you’ve confused me."

He leaned forward.

"Are you talking about me specifically... or someone else?"

Lamia simply shrugged.

"Forget that."

The answer unsettled Oliver far more than if Lamia had accused him directly.

"I’m here because I can’t connect with my magic anymore."

Oliver’s expression softened.

"I believe... you can help me restore it."

Oliver folded his arms.

"What kind of affinity?"

"I’m a Moonlight Affinity user."

Oliver slowly nodded.

Of course he knew what that meant.

Moonlight Affinity was considered one of the highest branches of magical power.

Witches, wizards and sorcerers who followed nature borrowed strength directly from the moon itself. Their spells flowed with harmony and balance.

Those who rejected nature walked another path.

Blood.

Flesh.

Souls.

Forbidden sacrifices that twisted moonlight into darkness.

Every spell stolen through that method demanded an even greater price, and nature always reclaimed its debt.

Sometimes tenfold.

"That’s quite an impressive affinity," Oliver admitted. "Especially for an omega."

Lamia gave him a flat stare.

"I know you didn’t mean that as a compliment."

Oliver awkwardly cleared his throat.

"It wasn’t an insult either."

Lamia ignored that.

"I also know..."

His voice became calm.

"...that you’re a Moonlight Affinity user pretending to be an ordinary human."

Oliver froze.

His heartbeat skipped.

"I’m... not."

He answered almost immediately.

"I’m just a scholar who came here to teach. Magic users have nothing to do with me."

Lamia merely nodded.

Whether Oliver admitted it or not wasn’t his concern.

Soon enough...

The truth would force itself into the open.

"You’re a Phoenix Witch."

Oliver’s face instantly lost its color.

"And you’re here to find the savior the prophecy spoke about."

Silence.

Oliver slowly rose from his chair.

His eyes widened in complete disbelief.

"How...?"

His voice trembled.

"Where did you hear that?"

His mind raced.

Phoenix Witches were nearly extinct.

The few that remained concealed themselves perfectly, even disguising the silver eyes that distinguished their bloodline.

No outsider should know.

No student certainly should.

"I’ll tell you."

Lamia finally looked up.

"But first..."

He inhaled quietly.

"...I’m a Phoenix Witch too."

Oliver felt as though the room had tilted.

"I received the same message years ago."

Lamia’s voice remained steady.

"I was told to protect him."

"Protect..."

Oliver whispered.

"Ashton?"

Lamia nodded.

"I’ve known that for a long time."

His brows furrowed.

"But something happened last night."

His voice gradually lowered.

"I feel like... someone ripped away a part of my memories."

Oliver didn’t interrupt.

"It wasn’t ordinary forgetfulness."

Lamia clenched his fists.

"It felt as if an entire section of my life had simply disappeared."

His breathing became heavier.

"And that’s impossible."

He looked directly into Oliver’s eyes.

"I know something happened."

"I just can’t remember what."

He paused before continuing.

"That’s not all."

"I suddenly can’t use magic anymore."

"I can’t even synchronize spells with Rose."

"She’s an ordinary witch, yet even our magical connection is gone."

"I know something is terribly wrong."

Oliver slowly stood and began pacing around the office.

His expression had grown unusually serious.

"The fact that you’re telling me all this..."

He stopped walking.

"...means you trust me."

Lamia’s expression never changed.

"It’s not trust."

His answer came immediately.

"If you expose me..."

"...you expose yourself."

He leaned back.

"And don’t forget."

"Our kind is already an endangered species."

Oliver released a quiet sigh.

Without another word, he walked toward one of the old cabinets lining the wall.

Unlocking it with a hidden key, he opened the wooden doors.

Inside rested several ancient books covered in dust.

He carefully pulled out the thickest one before returning to his desk.

The heavy tome landed with a dull thud.

"As strange as your memory loss sounds..."

Oliver rested a hand on the cover.

"...I’ve been sensing something similar."

Lamia looked up.

"The sudden heats."

"The widespread ruts."

"The massive fissure that split the academy grounds."

"And..."

Oliver hesitated.

"...that abandoned graveyard the school refuses to remove."

His eyes narrowed.

"All of them feel connected."

"As if something beneath this academy has finally awakened."

He pushed the book closer to Lamia.

"If we’re going to find answers..."

"...then we’ll have to uncover them together."

Lamia barely glanced at the book.

"I can’t relax."

His voice carried obvious frustration.

"I need my magic back."

"I can’t keep feeling empty forever."

Oliver almost asked the question that had been bothering him since Lamia entered the room.

How had an omega escaped today’s overwhelming heat without showing even the slightest symptom?

But he swallowed the question.

There were more urgent matters.

"So..."

Oliver folded his hands together.

"You want my help."

"I’m still new here."

Lamia’s patience finally snapped.

"New or not, you know something."

He leaned forward.

"And if you keep hiding it..."

"...people are going to die because of your silence."

"So stop making excuses..."

"...and tell me what you know."

Oliver closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Until today...

He had believed he was the last surviving Phoenix Witch.

Most powerful bloodlines had already vanished from history.

His own spellcasting talent wasn’t exceptional compared to those who came before him.

But standing before him...

Was another survivor.

And somehow Oliver could feel it.

Lamia would become one of the people capable of changing history alongside the chosen one.

"You know how Phoenix Witches are feared by both White and Dark Witches."

Lamia nodded silently.

"They’re among the strongest magical bloodlines."

Oliver continued.

"And they’re said to stand just beneath the Pure Bloods."

"Alongside them are the Dragon Riders."

"That’s the history everyone knows."

He opened the ancient book.

"But the truth goes much deeper."

His fingers stopped on a faded illustration.

"Phoenix Witches and Pure Bloods were never separate races."

"They existed together."

"They fought together."

"They completed each other."

"They were partners on every battlefield."

Oliver’s voice became quieter.

"The last known Pure Blood died centuries ago."

"After that..."

"No one understood how their power truly worked anymore."

He looked directly at Lamia.

"What if..."

"The last Pure Blood never actually disappeared?"

Lamia’s eyes narrowed.

"What if..."

"That Pure Blood..."

"...is Ashton?"

The room became deathly silent.

Oliver continued before Lamia could interrupt.

"And what if our duty isn’t simply to protect him..."

"...but to awaken him?"

"What if he’s meant to accomplish what even the Five Heroes couldn’t?"

"The Quintorian Empire still stands..."

"...but it was never truly saved."

"The Emperor couldn’t do it."

"The Five Heroes couldn’t do it."

"They failed."

Oliver clenched the edge of the desk.

"That’s why I came here."

"To find every remaining Phoenix Witch."

"To make sure all of you reach him before the world falls into ruin."

The words exploded inside Lamia’s mind.

Everything suddenly seemed to connect.

Noah.

Ashton.

The missing memories.

The strange graveyard.

The academy.

The prophecy.

His breathing quickened before he abruptly stood from his chair.

"Fine."

His voice was firm.

"We’ll deal with the prophecy later."

His crimson eyes locked onto Oliver’s.

"But first..."

"I want my memories of last night."

"Now."

The office fell silent.

Even the air itself seemed to grow heavier.

Oliver slowly lowered his gaze toward the ancient tome resting on the table.

"If your memories were truly stolen..."

He whispered.

"...then whoever did it wasn’t merely powerful."

His silver eyes flashed faintly for the first time.

"They were someone capable of rewriting fate itself."