Chapter 202: The Crouching Dragon Works in the Shadows, While the Young Phoenix Begins to Close the Net

"Who spread this? Tell President Monaster to investigate it thoroughly!" exclaimed the dean.

"Yes, sir." Asina nodded, her expression outwardly composed.

Deep down, she knew the source of the rumors. President Monaster had inadvertently mentioned Dean Lawrence's past while chatting with them in the student council headquarters, and the information had subsequently leaked through either Lance, Hyperion, or Frey. In all likelihood, it had reached the ears of exactly the wrong person.

Ah...so it probably got to that person. However, Asina kept that all to herself.

Morning sunlight streamed in through the side window. Perhaps because the gloomy rain had just cleared, but the light looked particularly dazzling. It caught the side of Lawrence's face, making his gaze appear even deeper and sterner.

His eyelids twitched slightly. His expression shifted from calm to serious, and his lips pressed into a tight line. Asina immediately sensed the change. She kept her hands on the folder and remained silent.

The only sound in the office was the ticking of the wall clock. The steam rising from the coffee on the desk slowed to a crawl. In this atmosphere, time seemed to drag, making every moment feel interminably long.

Lawrence took a moment to compose himself before he said, "No wonder our school's reputation has been steadily declining in recent years."

He had felt for some time that the school's atmosphere was deteriorating. Not that the culture here had ever been exemplary; after all, even the dean of the College of Alchemy had ended up behind bars.[1]

"By the way, did Lance agree to the duel with Adam? How did that turn out?" Lawrence knew that misfortunes rarely came in singles. At a time like this, he was particularly worried about what kind of "surprise" Lance might spring on him next.

Asina fell silent for a brief moment. Frey was working behind the scenes, while Lance was already closing the net. She hesitated, considering how best to phrase the account of events for Lawrence.

In that brief silence, a melodious yet loud ringing sound suddenly pierced the enclosed space. It was the communication terminal on Dean Lawrence's desk.

The magical communication device exuded a sense of history. Its base was made of heavy, black-lacquered metal, and thick, winding cables connected it to Ikerite University's central communication hub, allowing for direct routing to Dean Lawrence's office at any time.

Lawrence frowned slightly in puzzlement, slowly lifted the receiver from its cradle, and placed it gently against his ear.

"Juliana? What is it?"

He couldn't fathom why Juliana would be contacting him so early in the morning. There was a moment of silence on the other end, as if she were wondering why Lawrence would even ask such a question.

"How did the duel between Lance and Adam turn out?" Juliana's voice remained cool and haughty, yet it betrayed a hint of anticipation. She clearly cared deeply about the outcome.

Lawrence glanced up at Asina. He saw the look on her face. It was one that suggested that she had something to say but was hesitating.

Lawrence had a sinking feeling. He knew it; Adam, with that stubborn streak of his that refused to turn back until he hit a wall, had simply gone looking for trouble! What he hadn't expected, however, was that Juliana would be even more concerned about the match than he was.

Lawrence hurriedly explained, "I've just returned to the university. I haven't caught up on the situation yet."

Juliana hesitated for a moment before she said, "Adam hasn't reported the battle situation to me all day."

There was a hint of bewilderment in her voice. Logically, for a high-stakes wager like this, Adam should have contacted her immediately, regardless of whether he won or lost. Yet, there had been no word for an entire day. It was as if he had dropped off the face of the earth.

Cold sweat began to bead on Lawrence's forehead. "Don't worry, Juliana. I'll go check what's going on right now."

The information coming from the other end of the line was clearly not good news. As the conversation deepened, Lawrence's expression grew increasingly grave. His brows furrowed, and the look of casual ease in his eyes was replaced by worry and confusion.

"Alright." Juliana replied crisply. But a moment later, she added a final remark, "Win or lose, I expect you to keep your promise."

"What promise?" Lawrence felt a growing sense of unease and asked the question twice, but by the time he spoke, Juliana had already disconnected the call.

The moment he put down the receiver, Lawrence turned to ask Asina, "Where is Adam?"

His demeanor was a mix of grim determination and deep-seated fear. Asina had been hesitant and evasive earlier, and he no longer had the time to listen to a drawn-out explanation.

Asina immediately responded, "The seventh floor atrium."

There was no time to ask Asina for the full details. Lawrence vanished from the office instantly, leaving behind only the faint hum of the antique magical apparatus and the flickering shadows cast by the sunlight upon the desk.

***

High above Ikerite University, the sky, usually a clear blue, often saw the shadows of birds darting past like sudden gusts of wind. Yet now, high aloft, wind swirled around Lawrence. His form seemed to transform into a feather, merging with the breeze as he soared rapidly.

The university's complex of buildings shrank quickly in his field of vision. He flew over structures of red brick and green tile, past ancient oaks and the lake, and in an instant, the Learning and Educational Hall came into view.

Lawrence's black coat snapped loudly in the wind, its hem fluttering like a phantom in the night. His expression was resolute, and his eyes gleamed with a light that looked capable of piercing through the very nature of the world.

The wind of his high-speed flight brushed against his cheeks, generating a faint warmth, yet he paid it no mind. His heart held but a single goal: to reach the seventh floor central atrium as quickly as possible and assess the situation.

The situation wasn't actually dire. He had a clear conscience; he had nothing to hide.

Even if there were rumors, he certainly wasn't going to the Kingdom of Yaloran specifically to see Juliana. There was no official business requiring his personal presence, and the idea of a date was utterly absurd. Even in the most unlikely scenario, where he actually did meet Juliana, there was absolutely no chance of the two of them going on a date.

Such gossip would inevitably collapse on its own. What he needed to figure out right now was exactly what kind of stunt Lance had pulled this time.

As Lawrence flew over the campus, intending to land directly on the rooftop terrace of the Learning and Educational Hall, two familiar figures suddenly caught his eye.

Lance and Hyperion were walking with steady strides along the broad stone path leading to the main building. They were engaged in conversation with a young student Lawrence didn't recognize.

Lawrence's heart quickened slightly. He decided to halt his wind magic, gradually easing its power to allow for a gentle descent. As his feet touched the ground, the gale that had surged beneath him began to contract slowly, finally vanishing into nothingness.

Landing lightly on the ground from mid-air, Lawrence immediately fixed his gaze on the three students before him. Lance remained as composed and unruffled as ever. Hyperion, however, looked at Dean Lawrence with a hint of wariness in her eyes, appearing somewhat guilty.

Beside them stood another student whom Lawrence didn't recognize. The youth looked quite ill-at-ease. He didn't appear to belong to their school; instead, he was likely a member of the visiting academic delegation from the Yaloran Kingdom's Royal University. He struck Lawrence immediately as an honest, unassuming sort of youth.

1. Wow, shots fired, Lawrence. ☜