Ashan felt it the moment their eyes met.
Something had changed.
Lia's expression still held that same composed smile, her posture relaxed, her tone light as ever; but the ease behind it was gone, replaced by something far more deliberate. It wasn't obvious, not to most people, but to him, it was enough.
'She noticed.'
His heartbeat rose for a brief moment before he forced it back down, keeping his breathing steady and his expression unchanged, as though nothing at all had shifted between them.
At the same time, the system's earlier warning echoed faintly in his mind, the message still lingering as if reminding him that this wasn't just another routine interaction.
'So this is where things turn.'
He exhaled quietly, letting his thoughts settle into focus rather than tension.
'Fine… let's see how far she pushes this.'
Lia turned toward him again, her smile returning fully as if nothing had happened.
"Well then," she said lightly, stepping closer with an easy, controlled pace, "that concludes the scan. You can get dressed and sit back down. I'll move on to the final test."
Ashan gave a small nod, neither questioning nor resisting, and began dressing himself without haste. His movements remained smooth and unbothered, each action measured enough to avoid drawing attention, yet natural enough to avoid suspicion.
By the time he finished and sat back down, the atmosphere in the room had settled into an almost deceptive calm.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then suddenly,
Black wires shot out from beneath the chair and surrounding structure, snapping into place with frightening speed as they wrapped around his wrists, his arms, his legs, and his torso, tightening instantly before he could even react.
The force behind them wasn't overwhelming, but it was precise, engineered to restrict movement completely without causing immediate harm.
Ashan's eyes widened, genuine surprise breaking through his composure as he tested the restraints instinctively, only to realize immediately that they weren't something he could break free from with brute force alone.
"Professor… what is this?" he asked, his voice still controlled, though the tension beneath it was unmistakable.
The atmosphere in the room shifted completely.
The warmth vanished.
The ease disappeared.
Lia's smile faded, not gradually, but entirely, as though it had never existed to begin with, and in its place remained a gaze so cold and focused that it felt less like he was being observed and more like he had been marked.
She walked toward him slowly, each step measured, the faint sound of her heels echoing through the lab in a steady rhythm that only seemed to amplify the silence pressing in from all sides, until she finally stopped just in front of him, close enough that he could clearly see the sharpness in her eyes, the absence of hesitation, the presence of intent.
"That," she said quietly, her voice lower now, stripped of all earlier lightness, "is exactly what I was about to ask you."
She leaned slightly closer, her gaze locking onto his as though trying to peel him apart layer by layer.
"It was well hidden," she continued, her tone carrying a hint of acknowledgment despite the tension. "In fact, I'll admit that it was almost flawless… unnaturally so."
Ashan held her gaze for a moment before exhaling softly, his shoulders easing just slightly as his eyes closed briefly, not in defeat, but in acceptance.
"I see," he murmured, his voice calm, almost thoughtful, as though he had already expected this outcome somewhere in the back of his mind. "So in the end, it still wasn't enough."
His eyes opened again, steady and composed.
"…Impressive, Professor. You really are among the best."
For a brief moment, Lia's expression flickered, and then she smiled, not the gentle smile from before, but something sharper, something edged with intent.
"So you're not going to struggle," she said, tilting her head slightly as she studied him more closely.
"No excuses, no attempts to twist the situation in your favor, no desperate denial… I have to admit, that makes this far more interesting."
She leaned forward, placing both hands firmly on the armrests of the chair, effectively trapping him in place as she brought herself closer, her presence pressing down on him in a way that was both controlled and overwhelming.
"Then let's make this simple," she continued, her voice dropping further, each word measured and deliberate.
"You will answer my questions, and you will answer them honestly, because the moment I feel even the slightest hint of deception, I won't hesitate to make you regret it in ways that go far beyond expulsion."
Ashan didn't look away.
"I understand."
"Good."
Her gaze sharpened further.
"Then tell me, who are you? What is your purpose?"
Ashan didn't hesitate, his answer coming smoothly, naturally, as though he had prepared it long ago.
"I'm Ashan Ashvale, twenty-three years old, a former mage who transitioned into a battle mage, and I enrolled in this academy with the intention of growing stronger and earning the title of graduate," he said evenly, his tone carrying neither defensiveness nor arrogance, only calm certainty.
"That is my identity, and that is my purpose."
For a moment, Lia simply stared at him.
Then she let out a quiet breath and shook her head slowly, a faint, almost amused sound escaping her lips.
"You really do have some nerve," she said, her smile returning, though it carried no warmth this time.
"Even after I've already seen through your core, you're still trying to present surface-level truths as if they're enough to satisfy me."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, the pressure in the room increasing once again.
"Don't test my patience, Ashan," she added, her voice hardening. "I am being generous right now, far more than you deserve given the situation you're in, so don't make the mistake of pushing that generosity too far."
A brief pause followed before she continued, her tone turning sharper, more direct.
"I'll ask you something simpler," she said. "Are you affiliated with the hidden organization responsible for multiple criminal activities?"
Ashan's response came immediately.
"No."
There was no hesitation, no wavering.
"I have no connection to them whatsoever."
Lia's eyes narrowed further as she crossed her arms, her posture shifting slightly as she observed him with renewed scrutiny.
"No connection?" she repeated, her voice low, almost probing. "Then explain something to me… how are you using their technique?"
She didn't wait for him to respond before continuing.
"The creation of a false outer layer around the mana core, reinforced with compressed mana and stabilized under continuous flow control," she said, her gaze unwavering.
"It's not something you could have stumbled upon by accident, and it's certainly not something an ordinary awakener could replicate on their own."
She took a step closer.
"I know that method very well," she added, her tone carrying quiet confidence. "It's clever, effective against standard rank detection systems, and capable of deceiving most institutions…"
Her eyes locked onto his.
"But not this place."
A pause.
"And not me."
Silence stretched between them before she spoke again.
"So I'll ask you one more time," she said, her voice cutting through the air. "Are you still going to claim that you have no connection to them?"
Ashan nodded without hesitation.
"Absolutely."
His tone remained unchanged.
"I'm not connected to them in any way."
Lia held his gaze for several seconds, searching, analyzing, weighing every detail she could extract from his expression before finally speaking again.
"Then explain," she said, her voice lowering slightly, "how you came to know that technique."
Ashan closed his eyes briefly, not out of uncertainty, but as though organizing his thoughts before presenting them.
"You're right about one thing," he began calmly. "It is indeed their technique."
Lia's eyes flickered slightly.
"But I didn't learn it from them directly," he continued. "I encountered one of their members during a dungeon raid, a C-ranker pretending to be a B-ranker, someone whose behavior gradually revealed that he wasn't what he appeared to be."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"I observed him carefully, studied the way he manipulated his mana, and over time I began to understand the basic concept behind what he was doing," he said, his tone steady, controlled.
"Eventually, I took the opportunity to eliminate him before he could act on whatever intentions he had."
The room fell silent.
"And after that," Ashan went on, "I began experimenting on my own, attempting to recreate the technique based on what I had learned, though it was far from easy, and I nearly destroyed my own core in the process."
Lia listened without interruption, her expression unreadable.
When he finished, she let out a slow breath, her lips curving into a faint, skeptical smile.
"That's quite the story," she said, her tone making it clear that she wasn't convinced. "But unfortunately for you, I'm very familiar with how that technique works."
She stepped closer again, her gaze sharpening.
"It requires an enormous amount of mana," she continued. "Even an A-ranker would struggle to form a thin, stable layer around their core, and yet yours is at least ten times thicker than what would be considered standard."
Ashan remained silent.
"That level of output is impossible for someone at your supposed rank," she said. "Which means there's only one logical conclusion… someone else was involved."
A brief pause.
"Someone with overwhelming mana reserves."
Ashan tilted his head slightly, his lips curving faintly.
"…Like an S-ranker?" he asked.
And in that instant,
Lia's expression froze, just for a fraction of a second, but enough for Ashan to catch it.
He didn't hesitate.
"If that's your conclusion, then think it through properly," he continued, his voice calm yet carrying a subtle edge. "Why would an S-ranker risk exposing themselves to help someone like me fake a D-rank core?"
Silence.
"What possible value would I have to them?" he pressed.
Lia said nothing.
"And more importantly," Ashan added, his gaze steady, "you said my core is ten times thicker than normal… so tell me, does an S-ranker even have enough mana to create something like that in the first place?"
Lia's thoughts faltered.
The calculations ran through her mind instantly.
The scale.
The density.
The structure.
It didn't add up.
Not even close.
Ashan's faint smile returned.
"You're basing your assumption on something that doesn't fully add up," he said. "If your conclusion requires something impossible, then maybe the conclusion itself is wrong."
The room fell silent again.
This time, heavier.
Lia's gaze shifted slightly, not away from him, but inward, as if recalculating everything she had just concluded.
Ashan watched her carefully.
Then spoke again.
"I'll say it clearly," he said. "I have no connection to that organization."
A pause.
"I just know the technique."
Lia looked at him again, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"…Then explain something else," she said.
Her tone had changed; not softer, but more focused.
"How did you create it?"
Ashan met her gaze.
And this time,
He smiled.
"…That's not something I plan to answer."
The response came without hesitation.
Lia's expression hardened instantly.
"You do realize the situation you're in, right?" she said.
"I do."
Ashan didn't hesitate.
"I faked my rank," he said calmly. "That alone is enough to get me punished."
A pause.
"And you suspected me of something more serious."
He held her gaze.
"But you don't have proof."
Silence.
"You can investigate me," he continued. "Watch everything I do. You won't find anything that connects me to them."
Another pause.
"I'll accept whatever punishment comes for what I did," he added. "But beyond that…"
A faint breath escaped him.
"There's nothing you can use."
Lia didn't respond immediately.
Her thoughts were moving fast now, trying to piece together everything she had seen, everything she had calculated, and everything that no longer made sense.
Because he wasn't panicking.
He wasn't resisting.
And more importantly,
He wasn't slipping.
Her fingers tightened slightly against her arm.
'This doesn't add up…'
His core.
His body.
His eyes.
None of it matched a normal explanation.
And yet,
There was no clear evidence tying him to anything else.
Her gaze returned to him slowly, sharper than before.
Curiosity.
Suspicion.
Interest.
All of it mixed together.
And only growing stronger.
'What exactly are you…?'