Chapter 298. Wager Everything, Bet on Yourself

For a long, excruciating moment, Lord Valestria said nothing. The silence stretched thin, vibrating like a wire pulled to the point of snapping.

He studied William with eyes that had shed their obvious contempt, replacing it with something far more dangerous: a cold, surgical calculation. He was no longer looking at an annoying instructor; he was weighing a threat.

"An interesting theory," Valestria said finally, his voice quiet and dangerously smooth. "Elegant, in its own academic way."

"But theories exist in books, Instructor Wade."

"Reality exists in blood and broken steel."

"We shall see whether reality agrees with your... calculations."

William didn’t flinch, and he didn’t blink. He felt a strange, cold clarity settling over him.

He had been playing defense, trying to protect Lia’s position, but he realized now that as long as Valestria held the power, Lia would never truly be safe. To secure her future, he had to dismantle the source of the threat entirely.

He had to escalate.

’If I stop here,’ William thought, his inner voice as cold as his exterior, ’they will always see her as a pawn.’

’I have to force them to see her as a force of nature.’

’And I have to show them that this academy isn’t just a school; it’s a fortress.’

"There’s one more thing," William said. The words cut through the lingering tension like a guillotine blade.

The room froze.

"Once Lia’s match against Ardyn concludes," William continued, his voice carrying a terrifyingly calm authority, "I intend to challenge Seraphina myself."

The silence that followed wasn’t just quiet; it was absolute. It was the sound of several hearts stopping mid-beat.

Albert’s eyebrows rose sharply, his diplomatic mask cracking to reveal genuine shock. Catherine’s hand found William’s beneath the table, her grip so tight it was almost painful, a silent plea mixed with fierce, unwavering support.

Seraphina herself bolted upright, her spine straightening with instinctive warrior reflexes. Her eyes darted between William and her father, her lips parting in open surprise.

The implication was staggering: he wasn’t just defending a student; he was declaring war on the entire Valestria bloodline.

Valestria stared at William for what felt like an eternity. Then, unexpectedly, a thin, cruel smile spread across his aristocratic features.

It wasn’t a smile of kindness; it was the smile of a predator watching prey walk willingly into a trap.

"You wish to challenge my daughter," Valestria mused, the words dripping with venomous amusement. "The youngest Grand Swordmaster in three centuries."

"A woman who has ended careers and shattered bones without breaking a sweat."

"You realize you aren’t asking for a spar, Instructor... You are asking for a slaughter."

"I am aware of the stakes," William replied, his voice unshaken. "And I am aware of what she is capable of."

"Bold," Valestria said, a genuine laugh escaping him, a sound that carried a distinctly lethal edge. "Foolishly, suicidally bold."

"But bold nonetheless."

"Very well, Instructor Wade. I accept, on Seraphina’s behalf, assuming she has no objection to being asked to dismantle you."

Seraphina’s gaze locked onto William’s. Her expression was unreadable, a volatile cocktail of confusion, curiosity, and the predatory interest of a true master.

She saw something in William’s eyes that she hadn’t expected: not fear, but a grim, inevitable hunger for the fight.

After a moment that felt like hours, she offered a small, hesitant nod. "I have no objection."

"However," Valestria interrupted, his voice suddenly sharpening, losing all trace of amusement. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "Given how thoroughly you’ve inserted yourself into my family’s affairs, Instructor Wade, I believe a genuine consequence should accompany this challenge."

"We will not play at schoolyard games."

He leaned forward, his shadow falling across the table like a shroud. "If you lose and you... will lose."

"You will leave this academy entirely."

"You will resign your position, you will forfeit your credentials, and you will disappear from our lives permanently."

"You will be stripped of everything you have built here."

The ultimatum hung in the air, brutal and final. William’s mind raced through the consequences: exile, disgrace, the loss of everything he had fought to establish.

But as he looked at Valestria’s triumphant face, he felt no fear. Only the cold, hard certainty that when the steel met, it wouldn’t be the academy that broke it; it would be the Valestria legacy.

The air in the conference room didn’t just feel heavy anymore; it felt poisonous. The implications of William’s gambit had begun to spread like wildfire through the assembled faculty.

Along the perimeter of the room, murmurs rippled through the gathered instructors, quiet, panicked whispers that sounded like the rustling of dead leaves in a storm. They weren’t discussing tactics or honor; they were discussing survival.

"And should that prove insufficient motivation," Lord Valestria continued, his voice gaining a new, terrifying texture.

It carried the particular, cruel relish of a man who had spent his entire life orchestrating the downfall of those who dared to oppose him. "I will personally see to it that this entire academy loses its royal charter and its standing."

"I will dismantle it brick by brick. Dissolved. Permanently."

"Stripped of every ounce of legitimacy it currently holds until this place is nothing more than a memory of wasted potential."

The reaction was immediate. The panicked whispering escalated into open alarm.

Several instructors exchanged horrified, wide-eyed glances, some visibly trembling. They weren’t just watching a teacher risk his job; they were watching a man gamble with the very existence of their sanctuary.

The academy was their life’s work, their home, and Valestria had just placed a boot on its throat.

Only Albert and Catherine remained motionless. Albert’s face was a statue of granite, his eyes fixed on William with an intensity that suggested he was measuring the man’s soul.

Catherine’s hand gripped William’s tightly beneath the table. She wasn’t holding him back; she was anchoring him. Her silence was a vow of absolute loyalty.

’He’s asking for everything,’ William thought, the words echoing in the hollow chambers of his mind. ’One mistake, one miscalculation in timing, one slip of the blade, and it’s over.’

’Not just for me, but for everyone here.’

’For Lia.’ His pulse thrummed in his ears, a steady, relentless rhythm. ’But if I back down now, I’ve already lost.’

"I’d be teaching Lia that power always wins and that fear is the only true law.’

William didn’t hesitate, and he didn’t blink. He didn’t give Valestria the satisfaction of seeing him weigh the cost.

"Fine," William said, each syllable clipped and precise as a sword stroke. "I accept those terms."

The room seemed to gasp. The room collectively inhaled, producing a sound reminiscent of the wind before a hurricane.

Catherine’s grip tightened further, her knuckles white, her body tensing as if she could physically shield him from the consequences of his own words.

"But I want something in return," William continued, leaning forward until he was inches from Valestria’s predatory space.

He refused to let the nobleman control the terms of this suicide pact. "If I win, and I will win, of course..."

"Lia remains at this academy permanently."

"No further threats from your house, no further ’evaluations’ by your agents, no further attempts to drag her back under Valestria control."

"The Valestria name loses all authority over her future. She becomes her own master, and this academy becomes her sole guardian."

It was a demand for total sovereignty, a declaration that Lia was no longer property to be inherited or manipulated. It was the most dangerous thing he could have asked for.

Valestria froze. His eyes darkened, the pupils contracting as he processed the audacity of the demand.

For several seconds, the only sound in the room was the distant, ominous crackle of the fireplace. Valestria was calculating the cost of losing his daughter’s autonomy and his grip on her lineage.

But his pride, his absolute, unshakable belief in Seraphina’s overwhelming martial superiority, outweighed his caution. He saw William not as a threat to his power, but as a fool who had just signed his own death warrant.

A slow, cold smile curled Valestria’s lips, a smile that promised violence and promised nothing else.

"Agreed," Valestria whispered, the word carrying the finality of a tombstone being lowered into place.