More chapters in royalroad.
Chapter 70 Discovered
Three weeks had passed since the world shifted ,since the breaking of Zion from his cave cage and the arrival of the storm named Skele.
For the Thundersons, it had been a time of raw, unguarded emotion.
The constant tension that had coiled around their hearts for weejs had finally sprung loose, leaving behind exhaustion and a fragile, blooming hope.
Zion had spent the days immersed in a warmth he'd almost forgotten. His father, Val, was a man renewed and laughing loudly one moment and weeping quietly the next, overwhelmed by the simple safety of his family.
He was met with a relieved energy.
It was Elder Green, his eyes crinkled with genuine cheer, who suggested a celebration.
"The house has been too quiet, we all missed you for too long" the old man declared.
"We cannot celebrate only by ourselves. Let us all celebrate. I want all of our old friends and neighbours to enjoy as well"
Zion could only shake his head in disbelief, you would think by the way they were acting that he was gone for centuries. Nonetheless, it was truly a warm bubbly feeling .
As the newly confirmed foreman of the family, Zion volunteered to oversee the preparations at their Veor mansion. It needed airing, assessing, and securing a practical task that suited his need for quiet action.
Traveling didnt take more than few hours as the city was close to the forest . Not adding his own speed, he couldve entered within hour if he went full speed.
——————
After arriving , he stood in the overgrown garden in the evening, he had been struck by the reminiscence. It was like mansion was a frozen in time . While my life was torn apart and remade, he thought, this place didnt change at all.
The neighbors, he guessed, must have kept watch. It was a small, profound kindness that eased a knot of bitterness in his chest. He was happy here, in this moment. There was no chaos, he did think his house would have been violated by youngsters , gangster, thieves and god knows what else. Fortunately his home was intact
Then, he had seen a flicker of movement but it wasnt a threat.
Professor Dio Basara, scaling the fence with clumsy courage.
He had a talk with the professor but their conversation had left Zion unsettled. The man's eyes held the hollow look of someone marching toward a cliff, convinced there was no other path.
"Who was that just now?"
Zion didn't startle. He'd sensed the subtle displacement of air, the faint scent this bee carried. It was one of his clan's most unique member. He turned to see Raiz leaning against a birch tree, his red wings folded neatly, his gaze curious.
"Someone I respect. He was a teacher. I once saw the world through his eyes," Zion answered, his voice soft.
"That's nice," Raiz commented, his tone easy.
Over the past three weeks in Cloustar, Zion had grown accustomed to the bee line warrior. Raiz's demeanor was deceptively simple relaxed, often dryly amused. But there was a depth to him, a weary, understanding of emotion that sometimes seemed to eclipse that of the humans around him. He listened when he needed and he spoke whenever he felt like. Sometimes when he did speak, it was often with unnerving clarity.
Zion looked at him, the evening shadows lengthening. "I have a favor to ask of you."
The playful glint in Raiz's clouded eyes faded, replaced by neutral attention. He said nothing, simply waiting. It was a silence that invited him to keep going.
Zion understood. He took a breath, ordering his thoughts.
"That professor… he has a fatal virtue. He can't stop himself from helping anyone who seems to be in need. He believes everyone can be saved. Right now, from the lack of vitality in his body and the dread in his eyes, I can tell he's in serious trouble.
If I weren't in the Myr realm, perhaps I'd have missed it. But now, I see it as clearly as day."
Raiz pushed off from the tree and walked over. He placed a hand on Zion's shoulders, a firm and grounding weight.
"I'm on it. And don't worry. Just how much trouble could one kindly professor get into"
A grin spread across his face. "It's not like he's planning to blow up the kingdom."
Zion let out a genuine, hearty laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Hah! That's not possible. The professor rectifies youths and helps the needy. He's constitutionally incapable of grand crimes."
Seeing Zion's smile reach his eyes, Raiz gave a final pat. "Then consider it handled. I'll just… make sure his path stays clear of any unexpected cliffs."
With a flex of his powerful red limbs, Raiz shot upwards, silent as an owl taking flight. He didn't go high, just above the roof lines, his form blending into the twilight hues as he followed the path Dio had taken.
---
Dio's walk home was a study in normalcy.He paused by a familiar hedgerow, pulling a small packet of shredded chicken from his coat pocket.
"Here, now. Don't fight," he murmured.
As if summoned, three cats emerged from the shadows a sleek tabby, a scarred tom, and a small calico.
They knew his voice, his schedule. They rubbed against his legs, purring as he scattered the food. For a few minutes, he watched them eat, their simple, selfish pleasure a balm. They only see the hand that feeds, he thought. Not the hand that builds the bomb.
Satisfied, or at least pacified, he continued to his door. Unknowns to him, the fourth cat that never showed itself when he was present ,came forward and ate what was leftover.
His wife, Lea, was there, wordlessly wrapping him in a hug that felt like the only solid thing in the world. He sank into it. Their son, Osu, was still outside, squeezing the last drops of light from the day with his friends.
When the boy finally tumbled in, smelling of grass and sweat, the family shared their evening meal. The conversation was light, filled with Osu's chatter about heroes and school. Dio nodded, smiled, and tasted nothing.
Sleep was a shallow, troubled with hotness. He woke before dawn on Monday, the weight of the meeting and Zion's knowing eyes having settled on his chest like a stone.
He moved through the dark house by rote, gathering his teaching materials. Scrolls on foundational logic, historical case studies of Balmur's trade agreements, notes on ethical philosophy. The irony was a bitter pill.
The university where he taught was a point of civic pride in Veor,a collection of elegant, sand colored buildings arranged around calm, willow lined courtyards.
It was designed to inspire tranquil contemplation, a world apart from the city's grime and struggle. As the first rays of sun gilded the central clock tower, Dio walked the pristine paths, the only sound the crunch of gravel under his boots.
If I have one problem with this school, he thought, the familiar resentment rising, it's that…..
"You are early as always. Truly, the students are blessed to have you as their professor."
The voice was like honey over shaved ice. It was sweet, smooth, and cold. Dio turned.
Dean Elara Vane approached, her heels clicking a precise rhythm on the flagstones.
Her hair was the color of fresh blood, a striking cascade against her tailored gray suit. Her smile was perfect, professional, and utterly detached from her eyes.
"Dean Vane," Dio nodded, forcing his own smile. "One must be prepared."
"Indeed, one must," she said, falling into step beside him. Her gaze swept over the empty quad.
"A new week. A fresh start. It is so important to prune away the rotten branches so the tree may grow strong, don't you agree, Professor?"
Dio's heart hammered against his ribs. Was she talking about the curriculum? Or the banquet in three days? "I… suppose it depends on the tree, Dean. And on the gardener's intent"
She let out a soft, musical laugh that didn't touch her pale blue eyes. "Always the philosopher. Your perspective is so valued in our… community endeavors. The final preparations require clear minds and steadfast hearts. I trust we can count on yours?"
It was not a question. It was a threat wrapped in academic courtesy. The revolutionary lately had been fire and fanaticism. Dean Vane was its calculated, intellectual counterpart. She was the true architect. The realization chilled him to the marrow.
"The students await," Dio said, sidestepping the inquiry. "I should finalize my lecture."
"Of course. Do give my regards to your lovely family," she said, her smile unwavering before she turned down a different path, her red hair a vanishing flag of warning.
---
Raiz, from his perch on a gargoyle atop the university's library, watched the exchange. His enhanced hearing, a gift of his and his progression past the Mortal Realm, caught every word. He saw the tension in Dio's shoulders, the predatory grace in the red haired woman's posture.
"Prune away the rotten branches?" A metaphor that gave a bad feeling.
He had followed Dio from his home, observing the man's gentle routine with the cats, the quiet routine of his evenings, the determined façade of the mornin.
This meeting with the dean confirmed it. This wasn't some personal debt or petty crime. It seems , this professor has gotten himself in genuine trouble.
As Dio disappeared into a lecture hall, Raiz turned his attention to the dean. He shadowed her as she moved with administrative efficiency through the campus, then into a private carriage.
The carriage didn't head toward a wealthy district. It led its way to the industrial fringe, stopping two blocks from the abandoned steelworks Dio had visited.
Raiz didn't need to follow her inside. The pattern was clear. This was the heart of it. He found a high vantage point on a derelict water tower, overlooking the factory. He closed his eyes, extending his senses not for sound, but for the unique, chaotic energy signatures of concentrated mana. Within this range , he could sense them.
There
There was at least 200 humans in the underground . Most looked like untrained and werent efficiant with their movement like fighter was. In this early in the morning what would 200 people doing , in some secret underground.
Zion's joke echoed in his mind. 'It's not like he intends to blow up the kingdom.'
Raiz's eyes snapped open, their usual mildness gone, replaced by the hard gleam.
"Oh, professor," Raiz murmured to the wind.
"You've gone and gotten yourself tangled in the mother of all troubles."
With a powerful, silent push of his wings, he shot back into the sky, a red streak against the brightening blue. He needed to talk to Zion and then to Moon.
The party at the Thundersons mansion was going to be paused, something was clearly off in this city.