All institutions are built upon the architecture of suspicion, but none so much as the Royal Academy of Light. To the common observer, its white spires represent the aspiration toward the divine; to the initiate, they are the ribs of a giant that has swallowed them whole.
Dorian stepped out of the library's heavy oak doors and into the sharp, late afternoon sun, only to find the path blocked. Professor Aris stood there, her hawk like eyes searching for a tremor, a bead of sweat, or the telltale flinch of a liar. In her forty years of serving the Inquisition, she had broken men three times Dorian's age with nothing more than a well timed silence. She was the 'Silver Vulture,' and she could smell guilt like it was a physical stench in the air.
Around them, a circle of students had formed, a collection of young, fragile souls who watched the 'No Resonance' failure stand toe to toe with the most feared inquisitor in the kingdom. To them, it was like watching a lamb mock a wolf.
"A bug," Aris repeated, her voice dropping to a dangerous, melodic hum. It was the sound her mace made right before it shattered a heretic's skull. She adjusted her grip on the weapon, the cold metal reflecting the artificial light of the academy's lanterns. "You claim that the flash of light, which, by my estimation, was a Rank 3 Divine Displacement, was merely the result of you 'squashing a bug'?"
Dorian didn't blink. He felt the phantom weight of the Blood Emperor's crown upon his brow. He didn't see a professor; he saw a mid tier bureaucrat who had survived by being more paranoid than her peers.
"Rank 2, actually," he corrected smoothly, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "It was a Shadow Parasite. It had been nesting in the foundations for decades, feeding on the information gap in your Restricted Section. If the Academy's maintenance staff were even half as diligent as they are at collecting tuition, I wouldn't have had to bother."
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Correcting an Inquisitor was one thing; insulting the administration to her face was a form of ritual suicide.
Aris's hand tightened on her mace, her knuckles turning white. "And how, pray tell, did a student with a resonance score of zero manage to produce a Rank 2 Purification? One that even I found... impressive?"
*Ding!*
**[Urgent Saint Quest: The Inquisitor's Doubt.]**
**[Objective: Convince Professor Aris of your 'Holy Awakening' without revealing the System.]**
**[Reward: +100 Faith Points / +1 Intelligence.]**
Dorian looked at Aris, and for a split second, he allowed the **[Holy Eyes of Truth]** to flicker to life. Above her head, the data bloomed in sharp, crystalline text.
**[Name: Aris Thorne]**
**[Status: Suspicious / Dedicated]**
**[Hidden Insecurity: She believes she is losing her resonance due to a secret illness.]**
Dorian's lips curled into a faint, microscopic smile. Leverage was the only language the powerful truly understood.
"Resonance isn't a static number, Professor," Dorian said, his voice carrying clearly through the courtyard. "It's a commitment. For seventeen years, the Heavens were silent to me. Perhaps they found me unworthy. Or perhaps I was simply waiting for a reason to listen."
He reached into his robes and tossed a small, charred scrap of the Shadow Parasite onto the marble between them. It hissed as it touched the cold stone, a tiny wisp of black smoke rising from the ash. The smell of sulfur and burnt meat was sharp and acrid.
"I didn't produce a 'Divine Displacement,'" Dorian lied with the practiced ease of a man who had manipulated nations. "I simply triggered the resonance that was already trapped in the floorboards. The Parasite was a conduit. I was the spark. If you don't believe me, ask Silas. He's the one who let me in."
Aris turned her gaze toward the library, where Silas was frantically scrubbing at the floorboards. The old man gave a jerky, terrified nod.
Aris turned back to Dorian. Her grip on her mace didn't loosen, but the murderous intent in her eyes shifted into a far more dangerous emotion: curiosity.
"A sudden awakening," she mused, her voice like sandpaper on silk. "It has happened before. But rarely in those with such... history. You were the boy who failed the 'Light Binding' ritual three years in a row."
"I have a low tolerance for incompetence," Dorian replied, his voice a low, terrifying rasp. "A trait I believe we share, Professor."
Aris let out a short, dry bark of a laugh. "Indeed. But incompetence can be cured. Arrogance, however, is a terminal condition. If I find even a single drop of Blood Magic in your veins... if I find that your 'awakening' was bought with a soul contract... I will peel the skin from your bones myself."
Dorian didn't flinch. He knew exactly what she was capable of; he had been the one to command her execution in his first life.
"Then I suggest you start sharpening your knives, Professor," Dorian replied. "Because you're going to be waiting a very long time."
***
**Author's Note:**Aris Thorne is a wolf, but Dorian has spent a lifetime leading the pack. If you enjoyed this psychological duel, please support the novel with your **Power Stones**! Every vote helps pay down the Sin Debt and keeps the release rate high. Shall we see the Count's reaction in **Chapter 6**? Let us know!