Chapter 12: The Price of Survival
The Royal Academy did not announce the assassination attempt.
It buried it.
By the next morning, the infirmary was spotless. The shattered bed replaced. The cracked stone floor repaired with fresh runes that gleamed faintly under the light. Any lingering traces of blood or poison residue were erased as if they had never existed.
Officially, nothing had happened.
Unofficially—
Everyone knew.
Aren Valerius Arcanveil sat upright on his bed as a healer finished tightening the last bandage around his shoulder. The pain had dulled to a steady throb, manageable but persistent.
Poison residue neutralized, Aren noted internally.
Healing incomplete by design.
The academy did not fully restore students who had "incidents."
Recovery was allowed.
Immunity was not.
"You'll remain under observation for two more days," the healer said. "Limited training. No duels."
Aren inclined his head. "Understood."
The healer hesitated.
"…You're fortunate."
Aren met her eyes calmly.
"I know."
Inner Thought – Reading Between Silence
Silence was the academy's verdict.
No public investigation.
No announcement.
No apology.
Which meant one thing.
They acknowledge the threat, Aren realized.
But they won't interfere unless it disrupts balance.
Balance mattered more than justice.
He lay back slowly, gaze fixed on the ceiling.
If I die quietly, it's acceptable. If I survive loudly, it's inconvenient.
That was the rule.
Observer POV – Instructor Council Chamber
"She crossed a line," one instructor said coldly.
"Did she?" another replied. "The boy lived."
A third voice—older, sharper—cut in.
"He survived because he was competent. That does not make the act permissible."
The room fell silent.
"Nyx Blackthorn operates outside academy authority," the older instructor continued. "But she was not acting blindly."
Several gazes shifted.
"You think a house sponsored her?"
"I think," the instructor said slowly, "that someone is testing how much pressure the Arcanveil extra can endure before breaking."
"And if he doesn't?"
The instructor's lips thinned.
"Then he becomes a problem."
Back to Aren
Two days passed in enforced stillness.
Aren did not waste them.
He practiced mental alignment, refining the synchronization between sword intent and mana without physical movement. Every cycle sent sharp discomfort through his core, but each repetition smoothed the instability left by the partial breakthrough.
Sword path bottleneck is loosening, he observed.
But forcing it now would be suicidal.
He needed stability.
Not spectacle.
The system pulsed faintly during one such cycle.
Aren exhaled slowly.
Even you agree, he thought dryly.
Unexpected Visit
On the third evening, the knock came again.
This one was different.
Measured.
Confident.
Unhurried.
Aren opened the door himself.
Lucien Valecrest stood in the corridor.
The protagonist.
Golden mana shimmered faintly around him, restrained but unmistakable. His expression was calm, his gaze curious rather than hostile.
"So you're still alive," Lucien said lightly.
Aren studied him in silence.
Up close, he thought, the pressure is stronger.
Fate clung to Lucien like a mantle.
"Yes," Aren replied evenly. "It seems so."
Lucien smiled faintly.
"I was wondering when I'd get the chance to meet you properly."
Aren stepped aside.
Lucien entered.
Conversation – Two Variables
"I watched your duels," Lucien said, leaning casually against the wall. "You fight… differently."
"Is that a complaint?" Aren asked.
Lucien laughed softly.
"No. It's refreshing."
A pause.
Then—
"You were attacked in the infirmary," Lucien said, tone casual but eyes sharp.
Aren did not react.
"Rumors travel," Aren replied.
Lucien nodded.
"They do. And they usually exaggerate."
His gaze hardened slightly.
"This one didn't."
Silence stretched.
Lucien straightened.
"Be careful, Aren. You've drawn attention you can't see yet."
Aren met his eyes.
"I know."
For a moment, fate itself seemed to hold its breath.
Then Lucien smiled again, lighter this time.
"I hope you don't die," he said sincerely. "It would be… inconvenient."
With that, he left.
Aren closed the door slowly.
So even the protagonist is adjusting, he thought.
The story was bending.
Night – System Reassessment
The system manifested fully, heavier than before.
[World Convergence System]
Major Interaction Logged:
- Entity: Lucien Valecrest
- Classification: Fate Anchor
Effect:
- Plot Engagement Increased
- Narrative Interference Detected
Warning:
- Direct interactions with Fate Anchors accelerate convergence
The full panel unfolded.
[World Convergence System]
Name: Aren Valerius Arcanveil
Title: Canon-Dead Extra | Watched Variable
Affiliation: House Arcanveil
Path:
- Magic Cultivation
- Sword Cultivation
Realm:
- Magic: Apprentice Mage (Late)
- Sword: Sword Trainee (Peak → Stabilizing)
Attributes:
- Strength: 17
- Speed: 16
- Stamina: 18
- Vitality: 18
- Mana: 20
- Mental Focus: 21
Combat Stats:
- Physical Power: B-
- Mana Control: B
- Sword Mastery: B
- Battle Instinct: A-
Skills:
- Dual Path Sovereignty (Authority · Passive)
- Mana Flow Regulation (Passive)
- Foundation Sword Forms (Advanced)
Plot Metrics:
- Plot Engagement: 43% (+5%)
- Rival Nodes: 9 (Active)
- Fate Attention: Alert
Condition:
- Wounds: Recovering
- Mana Reserve: 37%
- Mental State: Focused
System Evaluation:
- Status: Escalating
- Threat Level: High
- Advisory: Prepare for Political Pressure
Aren stared at the words Political Pressure.
So far, threats had been personal.
Duels.
Assassins.
Tests.
Politics would be different.
Slower.
Crueler.
He lay back and closed his eyes.
I survived death once, he thought.
I can survive this.
Outside, academy lights burned steadily against the night.
The game had moved beyond the arena.
And Aren Valerius Arcanveil was no longer just a student trying to stay alive.
He was a variable the world was beginning to plan around.