The atmosphere turned thick, suffocating. An invisible pressure weighed down on William's chest, as if the very air refused to obey. If he could see it, he'd notice Professor Aurus Remus's eyes burning with an electric blue glow—like crystals lit from within, hypnotic yet dangerously intense.
William dropped to his knees, blood still dripping from his ears and nose. He barely managed to raise his voice.
—"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! That language… I know it, but not as much as it seems…"
The professor's eyes bore into him, measuring every word.
—"How is it possible that you speak it?"
William lowered his gaze, struggling to breathe as he improvised a half-truth.
—"I come from a noble family… or what's left of it. It was wiped out by our enemies. Before he died, my grandfather used to teach me old languages. He had an ancient, badly damaged book with symbols like the ones on that scroll. I didn't understand much… just a few phrases he used to repeat. That one stuck with me."
Aurus Remus observed him in silence for several seconds. The pressure began to ease. Air flowed again. Slowly, the glow in his eyes faded, and his energy withdrew like a tide pulling back.
—"I believe you… partially," he finally said. "I don't know if you're lying entirely, but that phrase in Volgaris… that's not something you just stumble upon."
William wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve, still kneeling as he caught his breath.
—"I don't know what it means. But if you do, maybe we could share knowledge. I just want to understand."
The professor crossed his arms, thoughtful.
—"I've been studying this language for three years, and all I've managed are fragments. Scattered words. This scroll… I've barely been able to translate a few lines. If you're truly interested, you could come after your training sessions. Work on this with me."
William nodded quickly. The risk of the professor digging too deep was real—but access to ancient knowledge was a price worth paying.
—"I accept."
—"Good. Don't be late. I hate waiting. And don't worry—I won't let you work for free. If you help me with this, I promise your reward will be more than generous."
Aurus carefully rolled up the scroll and tucked it away with the others he had used during class.
—"This building is under my supervision. My office is on the top floor—it's the only one, so you won't get lost. I'll be waiting for you tomorrow to begin."
William gave a slight nod of respect before leaving the room. His legs still trembled as he descended the stairs, but he found his companions waiting outside. Thom greeted him with a subtle nod. Dixon crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.
—"Did he eat you alive or offer you a job?"
—"Something in between," William replied with a crooked grin.
—"Come on. I'm starving," Theo muttered, rubbing his stomach.
They walked together toward the cafeteria. As they got closer, the murmur of the crowd grew louder. The commoners were waiting outside, as if some invisible force kept them from entering. The tension in the air was palpable.
Their faces showed a mixture of hope and gratitude. It was clear they'd all heard about what had happened the day before. They were thankful, motivated—but also nervous. The clash between them and the nobles would decide their future at Stone Academy. If they lost, they'd have to endure the wrath of the nobles. But if they won… they didn't even dare to imagine what might happen.
William didn't stop. With firm steps and a steady gaze, he crossed the threshold. His companions followed without hesitation, like determined shadows. No one smiled. No one looked sideways. They just walked forward, challenging the silent judgment of all the nobles already inside.
The cafeteria looked like a war zone. Many nobles were bandaged, with bruised faces, arms in slings, or limping heavily. The scars of yesterday's battle were still fresh, still bleeding. The looks they threw at them were pure venom.
But William didn't flinch. He walked to the food line, loaded his tray with as much as he could—bread, meat, soups, fruit—and devoured it with a near-animal hunger. His companions followed suit, taking their places at the same table as the day before, as if nothing had changed.
And yet, everything had changed. There were no mocking grins now—only hatred.
While he ate, William never took his eyes off the nobles. One by one, he stared at them with calm ferocity. The commoners ate quickly, almost nervously, without saying a word. Only the five wolves seemed perfectly at peace in that storm of hostility.
When he finished, William stood up. His tray completely empty. He walked among the tables, saying nothing, eyes locked on a particularly battered group of nobles who were already watching him.
He stopped a few meters away. The silence turned absolute.
He stared at them with the same calm one might use when looking at a chained beast—one that doesn't yet know if it will bite or run.
—"Did you enjoy it?" he asked, voice sharp with a twisted grin. "Or what the fuck do you want from me?"
William's words lit the fuse. The nobles all stood, storming toward him. Some had already grabbed chairs, sticks—even knives.
The situation threatened to spiral out of control at any moment, but no one dared to make the first move. Yesterday's battle had shown that they wouldn't come out unscathed. Twenty-two nobles had been injured—more than half had suffered multiple fractures. Even with their families' healing medicines, they hadn't recovered fully.
Among them, the most furious—and the most terrified—was Jasper from House Mor. He had nearly died. William's bite had torn open his artery and ripped a chunk of flesh from his neck. If it hadn't been for the magical potion they'd given him, he wouldn't have survived. And to make things worse, his family had been forced to pay over 5,000 gold coins—five whole years of tax revenue. His father had been so furious that he'd beaten him black and blue.