The main conference room was a spacious chamber of polished oak and enchanted crystal, designed to host the academy's most important administrative discussions. Long tables were arranged in a U-shape, with chairs for each department head and senior faculty member. At the front of the room, a large magical projection surface displayed maps, schedules, and relevant documents as needed.
Today, however, the atmosphere was tense enough to make the fine decor feel stifling rather than impressive.
Kael stood in the corner of the room, unobtrusive as ever in his janitor's uniform, his presence ignored by most of the faculty. Sylvarian had requested his attendance, citing Kael's familiarity with dungeon environments as potentially relevant to the discussion. Kael suspected the real reason was that Sylvarian wanted him nearby as a silent advisor — someone who could provide input without appearing to overstep his official role.
Around the tables, the academy's teaching staff had arranged themselves along predictable lines. On the left sat the noble faction, led by Professor Aldric Sterling — Jake Sterling's uncle, a man of imposing bearing and condescending demeanor. His colleagues shared his general attitude of superiority, their expressions ranging from bored to impatient as they waited for the meeting to commence.
On the right sat the more progressive faculty, those who valued competence over pedigree and were willing to consider unconventional approaches. Elara Vance sat among them, her notebook open and ready, her expression attentive but neutral.
Sylvarian Moonwhisper sat at the head of the U-shaped arrangement, his elven features composed, his fingers steepled before him as he surveyed the assembled teachers. The Dean exuded an air of calm authority, but Kael could sense the underlying tension in his posture — the subtle stiffness that suggested he was preparing for a confrontation.
"Let us begin," Sylvarian said, his voice clear and carrying easily across the room. "The purpose of this meeting is to finalize the arrangements for the upcoming field practice. The location has been a subject of considerable debate, and I believe it is time to reach a decision."
He gestured to the magical projection behind him, which displayed a map of the Gilded Depths. "The noble faction has proposed the Gilded Depths as the training ground for this year's expedition. They argue that the dungeon's complexity and challenge will provide an invaluable learning experience for our students, preparing them for the dangers they will face as graduates of this institution."
Sylvarian paused, allowing his gaze to sweep across the room. "I agree with this assessment. The Gilded Depths is indeed an excellent training ground, provided certain conditions are met."
Aldric Sterling spoke up, his voice smooth and confident. "Then the matter is settled. We will proceed with the Gilded Depths as planned, and my colleagues and I will personally supervise our students to ensure they receive the maximum benefit from the experience."
"Not quite," Sylvarian corrected gently. "I have conditions. Specifically, I require that the expedition include certified guild adventurers to serve as guides and support personnel. The Gilded Depths is an A-ranked dungeon with numerous hazards that even experienced parties find challenging. Students, regardless of their talent, require expert supervision to ensure their safety."
He activated another projection, displaying a list of guild personnel who would be assigned to the expedition. "I have already coordinated with Guild Master Blackthorn, who has agreed to provide both A and B-rank adventurers for this purpose. They will be integrated into each student group, offering guidance, protection, and emergency extraction if necessary."
Aldric's brow furrowed, his expression shifting from confidence to mild annoyance. "Guild adventurers? Commoners, you mean? To supervise noble students who are destined to lead this kingdom? I hardly see the necessity."
"The necessity is quite clear," Sylvarian replied calmly. "The Gilded Depths has claimed the lives of many capable adventurers over the years. It shifts unpredictably, its monsters possess disturbing intelligence, and its magical anomalies can incapacitate even well-prepared parties. Guild personnel have extensive experience with these hazards — experience that our faculty, myself included, cannot match."
"Experience matters less than breeding," another noble teacher interjected — a heavyset man named Professor Carrington, who taught advanced combat magic. "Our students come from families that have produced heroes and leaders for generations. They have the blood of greatness in their veins. To suggest that they require the supervision of common adventurers — whose only qualification is surviving by the skin of their teeth in holes in the ground — is an insult to their heritage and their potential."
"It is not an insult to acknowledge that experience has value," Sylvarian countered. "Guild adventurers spend their lives exploring dungeons and combating monsters. They have practical knowledge that cannot be taught in classrooms or derived from noble lineage. Including them in the expedition ensures that if something goes wrong, there will be someone present who knows how to respond."
"It sounds like cowardice," Aldric Sterling said, his voice dripping with disdain. "We are preparing our students for greatness, not coddling them in the womb. They need to face challenges on their own terms, without reliance on commoners to hold their hands. How are they supposed to develop true strength and leadership if they're constantly being bailed out by hired help?"
"If they die because of inadequate preparation, their potential becomes irrelevant," Sylvarian pointed out. "The Gilded Depths is not a place for half-measures. Either we go in fully prepared, or we don't go at all."
"Then perhaps we should simply restrict access to those students capable of handling the challenge," Aldric suggested smoothly. "The noble students, under the direct supervision of their instructors, will enter the Gilded Depths and complete the training objectives. The commoner students and the underperformers can wait outside or engage in alternate training activities while we complete the real work."
He gestured dismissively toward the other side of the table. "As for the guild adventurers — let them babysit the lesser students. Keep them occupied with simpler tasks while our noble children demonstrate their true capabilities. That seems a reasonable compromise, does it not?"
Kael watched from the corner, his expression unreadable, but his mind was already analyzing the situation. This was the political dynamic Sylvarian had warned him about — the noble faction's arrogance, their belief in their own superiority, their willingness to gamble with lives in service of their ideology. They would rather risk student deaths than admit that commoners might have something valuable to offer.
Sylvarian's expression remained composed, but Kael could sense the frustration building behind his calm facade. The Dean had expected resistance, but this level of intransigence was pushing even his patience.
"Are you suggesting that we segregate the expedition based on social status?" Sylvarian asked, his voice dangerously soft. "That noble students enter the dungeon with minimal support, while commoner students are effectively excluded from the experience they paid to receive?"
"I'm suggesting that we allocate resources where they will do the most good," Aldric replied, unrepentant. "Noble students are the future leaders of this kingdom. Investing in their development is investing in the kingdom's future. Commoner students are, by and large, filler material — bodies to make the academy look diverse and inclusive, but with little genuine potential to affect the course of history."
He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto Sylvarian's. "You know this as well as I do, Dean Moonwhisper. Your own sister understood the importance of noble blood and breeding. Would she have wanted to see the academy's resources squandered on those who will never amount to anything significant?"
The mention of Elfina struck a nerve; Kael could see Sylvarian's jaw tighten, though his expression otherwise remained unchanged.
"She believed in merit," Sylvarian said, his voice flat. "In evaluating individuals based on their capabilities, not their lineage. She would have supported whatever approach gave every student the best chance to survive and grow."
"A lovely sentiment," Aldric said, his tone patronizing. "But sentiments don't keep students alive in a dungeon. Competence and preparation do. And I fail to see how placing commoner adventurers in charge of noble students constitutes proper preparation."
"Then perhaps we can reach a different arrangement," Sylvarian said after a moment of consideration. "The guild adventurers will be assigned to the expedition as planned. However, if the noble faction is so confident in their students' abilities and in their own supervisory capacity, they are welcome to proceed without guild assistance for their own groups."
He spread his hands. "The noble students, under the direct supervision of their instructors, will enter the Gilded Depths and complete their training objectives. The guild adventurers will accompany the commoner students and any others who prefer their guidance. The adventurers will also serve as emergency backup for the entire expedition, available to assist if circumstances become dire."
Sylvarian's gaze shifted to Aldric. "Does this satisfy your concerns? Your students receive the independence you desire, while the commoner students receive the protection you seem to think they need. The guild remains involved, but not in a way that intrudes upon your noble students' development."
Aldric considered the proposal for a moment, weighing the implications. It was, in truth, exactly what he wanted — his students and colleagues demonstrating their superiority without commoner interference, while the lesser students were coddled by hired help. The guild adventurers would still be present in the dungeon, but not in a position that challenged noble authority or undermined noble independence.
"It does," Aldric said, a satisfied smile touching his lips. "My colleagues and I will take responsibility for our noble students. We will lead them into the Gilded Depths and show them what true nobility can accomplish. As for the commoners and the guild personnel…" He waved a hand dismissively. "Let them handle the trivial tasks. We have real work to do."
He rose from his seat, collecting his notes and preparing to depart. "We'll need some time to organize our students and prepare our approach. The noble faction will meet separately to finalize our arrangements. If you need anything else from us, Dean Moonwhisper, you know where to find us."
The other noble teachers rose with him, their expressions ranging from satisfied to smug. One by one, they filed out of the conference room, their footsteps echoing through the chamber as they left, their heads held high with the arrogance of those who believe themselves above reproach.
Kael watched them go, his mind already turning over the implications. The noble faction's withdrawal simplified certain aspects of the expedition planning, but it also created new complications. Without guild supervision, the noble students would be effectively on their own in a dangerous dungeon, guided only by instructors whose confidence exceeded their actual experience.
And Sylvarian had allowed it — had, in fact, facilitated it by offering a compromise that the noble faction couldn't refuse. Kael suspected this was intentional, a way to give the noble faction enough rope to hang themselves. If something went wrong, and it almost certainly would, the responsibility would rest squarely on the shoulders of those who had rejected help.
The conference room was quieter now, the tension easing somewhat with the departure of the most vocal opponents. The remaining teachers — those who valued practical instruction over noble pride — looked to Sylvarian with expressions ranging from concern to curiosity.
Sylvarian finally allowed himself a small sigh, rubbing his temples as the pressure of the confrontation began to fade. "That could have gone worse," he observed, "though it certainly could have gone better as well."
"They're going to get themselves killed," one of the teachers muttered — a middle-aged woman who taught magical creatures and their habitats. "I've seen the Gilded Depths reports, and I know what it's capable of. Sending students in there without proper support is madness."
"Madness, perhaps," Sylvarian acknowledged, "but madness of their own choosing. They rejected assistance, and they made their preferences abundantly clear. We cannot force them to accept guidance they don't want."
He activated the magical projection again, displaying a more detailed map of the dungeon along with annotated information about its various levels, known monster populations, and environmental hazards. "This is what we're dealing with. The Gilded Depths is unique among A-ranked dungeons for its adaptive nature — it responds to the presence of intruders, shifting its layout and monster distribution to maximize challenge and, some theorize, to actively hunt intruders who remain too long."
Sylvarian pointed to the upper levels, highlighted in blue. "The first three floors are relatively stable, with predictable monster patterns and manageable environmental conditions. A properly prepared B-rank party can navigate these levels with reasonable safety, provided they exercise caution."