Chapter 40: The Academic Brawl and a Shadow’s Silence

Lia’s mind went utterly blank.

Her gaze fixed on Horace’s face, etched with an almost severe academic rigor, she found herself momentarily unable to discern if he was jesting or simply stating a stark reality.

Horace paid no mind to Lia’s stunned silence.

He extended a finger towards Alistair, who had already fainted beside them, a faint gleam coalescing at its tip, which he then gently pressed against Alistair’s forehead.

Alistair’s body jolted as if struck by lightning, his eyes snapping open as he gasped for air in ragged gulps.

His gaze, still somewhat unfocused, instinctively flickered towards the paper resting on the table.

With but a single glance, he recoiled as if burned, his eyes darting away as his body pressed tightly against the chair back, seemingly yearning to sink into its depths.

Horace withdrew his finger and turned to Klein.

“From a mathematical perspective, this paper is flawless.

Its structure is rigorous, and its derivations are perfect.

From my end, it passes.”

He paused, then looked at the other two.

“And what of you two?”

Laplace slowly opened his eyes, letting out a long breath.

While his complexion had improved considerably, a weariness still clung to him.

“I require time—at least three days—to properly re-stabilize my cognitive model.”

Alistair, for his part, dared not even glance at the paper again.

He could only offer Horace a stiff nod.

“I… I agree with Laplace.”

“Hmph,” Horace scoffed with a light chuckle, his tone dripping with unconcealed mockery.

“Two Eight-Ring Archmages, utterly rattled by an apprentice’s paper.

If word of this gets out, how will you ever show your faces again?”

Alistair’s face flushed crimson, yet he remained utterly speechless.

For a mage like him, specializing in fields and kinematics, the paper’s impact was far more profound than for others.

Every single word seemed to dismantle the edifice of knowledge he had painstakingly constructed over decades.

Laplace, clearly well-acquainted with Horace, slammed a hand on the table and rose to his feet.

“What the hell do you know?! You mathematical lunatic, with nothing but symbols and numbers rattling around in your head!”

“This isn’t a paper; this is a damn reshaping of the world itself!

You don’t feel it because you don’t truly live in this world!”

“Oh?” Horace rose as well, towering half a head above Laplace as he looked down at him.

“Are you suggesting my perceptive abilities are inferior to yours?”

“Absolutely!” Laplace retorted without yielding an inch.

“You merely observe with your eyes, while we perceive with our very souls!

Feeling this new world utterly crush the old!”

Alistair listened to their escalating quarrel, his face growing paler with each passing moment.

Without uttering a single word, he rose, offered a respectful bow to both Horace and Klein, then turned and departed.

Only four individuals remained in the room, yet the air grew even thicker with tension.

Horace looked at Laplace, the smile vanishing from his face.

“Old man, are you itching for a fight?”

“A fight it is, then! As if I’d be afraid of you!” Laplace declared, rolling up his sleeves.

Seeing the situation rapidly deteriorating, Lia quickly stepped forward and seized Laplace’s arm.

“Master, Master, please don’t be rash.

This is merely academic discussion; there’s no need for physical altercation.”

Though held back by her, Laplace’s belligerent aura remained undiminished.

“Let me go!

Today, I’ll make sure this mathematical blockhead understands what true physics really is!”

“Physics?” Horace sneered.

“Without mathematics, your ‘physics’ is nothing but unsubstantiated ramblings!”

“Nonsense! Mathematics is merely a tool!”

“A tool?

It is the language!

The sole language used by deities to inscribe the very rules of the world!”

As their argument grew more heated, magical fluctuations began to emanate throughout the room, causing the picture frames on the walls to hum.

Lia felt as though she wasn’t holding onto a person, but rather an erupting volcano.

She glanced at Horace, who looked poised for action, then at Laplace’s flushed face.

Silently, she released Laplace’s hand.

Then, with a subtle movement, she stealthily retreated behind Klein.

The entire maneuver was executed with seamless grace, without a single sound.

The two men, engrossed in their argument, remained entirely oblivious.

“Horace, let me tell you!” Laplace declared, craning his neck, one hand on his hip, the other pointing accusingly at Horace’s nose.

“If you’ve got the guts, fight me right here, in front of Lia!

Let the child see how a Nine-Ring Archmage like you bullies others!”

As he spoke, he prepared to pull Lia, who he presumed was still beside him, forward as a human shield.

His hand swept to the side.

It met only empty air.

Laplace’s movements froze.

Slowly, he turned his head.

The spot beside him was utterly empty.

Turning again, he saw Lia peeking out from behind Klein, only her small head visible, her large, innocent eyes fixed on him.

The air in the room solidified.

Klein calmly held a cup of now-cold black tea, as if utterly oblivious to the unfolding drama.

Laplace stiffly turned back to Horace, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace.

“Um… can we… still reconcile?”

Horace, expressionless, strode up to him and seized the collar of his mage’s robe.

“Come.

Into the room with me.”

Before the words had fully left his lips, a portal shimmered into existence beside them.

Horace, dragging Laplace who was still loudly protesting about ‘gentlemen settling matters with words, not fists,’ stepped through.

The portal vanished instantly.

Silence once again settled over the room.

Lia poked her head out from behind Klein, gazing at the now empty space, and whispered,

“They… won’t actually fight, will they?”

Klein set down his teacup and rose.

“Horace knows his limits.”

He picked up the paper from the table and re-rolled it neatly.

“Your paper will almost certainly pass.

All that remains is to await its formal publication in the journal.”

“It’s that simple?” Lia asked, still somewhat bewildered.

“What did you expect?” Klein glanced at her.

“With Horace’s endorsement, there will be virtually no issues.

Besides, you don’t truly believe he completely failed to understand it, do you?”

He handed the paper to Lia.

“We can head back now.”

Lia took the paper and nodded.

Though the process had been somewhat convoluted, the outcome was undeniably favorable.

***

The Royal Capital, Violet Club.

It was the same private room, still enveloped by a top-tier silencing barrier, and the smoke within was even thicker than before.

Marcus sat at the head of the table, his face so grim it seemed to drip with shadow.

The mages who had attended the previous meeting were all present, their faces etched with unease.

“Everyone’s here; let’s get down to business.”

Marcus’s voice was hoarse as he rapped on the table, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Silent Shadow is out of contact.”

Those few words instantly plunged the room’s atmosphere to a freezing point.

“What does ‘out of contact’ mean?” Old Hal, the alchemist, asked nervously.

“Exactly what it sounds like.” Marcus’s gaze swept over the assembled mages.

“I’ve exhausted every possible channel, yet I can’t reach him.

No sign of him alive, no body to indicate his death.”

“We must prepare for the worst.”

“He may already be dead.”

This chilling conjecture sent shivers down everyone’s spines.

Silent Shadow, the legendary shadow assassin, the phantom capable of infiltrating the spiritual world—could he have truly died so silently, so without a trace?

“Did Klein discover him?” Green’s voice trembled slightly.

“I don’t know.” Marcus shook his head.

“But that’s not the main point.

The main point is, our target has emerged from that mage tower.”

He looked at them, articulating each word with deliberate emphasis.

“My people saw Klein today at the Magic Association headquarters.”

“And with him, was a girl.”

“A very young girl, one we’ve never seen before.”

A profound silence descended upon the private room.

Everyone understood the implication of Marcus’s words.

Klein had but a handful of apprentices, all of whom were ‘prominent figures’ within the Royal Capital’s circles.

This suddenly appearing new face could only be Lia, the one who had put forth the motion formulas and calculus.

“She is the source.” Marcus’s voice was laced with an unbridled ruthlessness.

“Since she has chosen to step out herself, then don’t blame us for being impolite.”