Chapter : 1429

  He punched the rock. His fist met the stone. The rock shattered into gravel.

  He charged through the dust cloud. Sarah was open. The locket was exposed.

  He needed precision. He needed a needle, not a hammer.

  He formed a thin, razor-sharp spike of steel from his index finger.

  Sarah clawed at him. He ducked under her guard. He stepped in close, chest to chest.

  He saw the locket pulsing. The purple threads were tight.

  "Sleep," Lloyd whispered.

  He thrust the steel spike. He didn't stab her neck. He stabbed the locket.

  Ping.

  The steel tip pierced the silver casing. It shattered the corrupted crystal inside.

  There was a high-pitched whine, like a dying engine. The green light flared once, blindingly bright, and then vanished.

  The purple threads snapped.

  Sarah went rigid. Her eyes rolled back. The supernatural strength left her body instantly. She collapsed.

  Lloyd caught her. She was light now. Just a girl. Her skin was hot, but the cracks were fading.

  "Is she..." Isabella asked, stepping closer, her sword lowered.

  "Alive," Lloyd said, checking her pulse. "Burnt out. Exhausted. But alive."

  He looked at the broken locket hanging from her neck. Dark, oily smoke was leaking from it.

  "It was a receiver," Lloyd said grimly. "Someone was piloting her. They used her to take out the comms tower."

  He looked around the courtyard. It was a wreck. Guards were groaning. The tower was rubble.

  "This wasn't a random attack," Lloyd said to Isabella. "It was a tactical strike. They blinded us. Now the Academy can't call for help."

  Isabella looked at the destruction. She looked at the unconscious girl in Lloyd's arms. Her face paled.

  "I almost killed her," she whispered.

  "Yeah," Lloyd said. "You almost did."

  He stood up, lifting Sarah effortlessly. "Get a medic. And get a containment team for this locket. Don't touch it with bare skin."

  He walked towards the infirmary. He felt the pain in his ribs. He felt the exhaustion. But mostly, he felt anger.

  Someone had turned a student into a weapon. Someone had violated her mind and used her to break her own school.

  "You messed up," Lloyd thought, directing his rage at the unseen traitor. "You made it personal."

  From a high window in the distance, a figure watched. The figure lowered a small, blackened telescope. They smiled.

  "Phase One complete," the figure whispered. "The Comms are down. The Knight is shaken. And the Professor... he is soft. He saves the pawns."

  The figure turned away, melting into the shadows of the hallway. The game was just beginning.

  Three days after the "Locket Incident," the Academy was on high alert. Guards patrolled every hallway. Students walked in pairs. The atmosphere was brittle, like dry twigs ready to snap.

  Lloyd was in the training arena again. He was tired. His rib was healing thanks to a potion from Airin, but it still ached when he breathed.

  Today was a sparring tournament. It was supposed to raise morale. "Show them we are not afraid," Headmaster Valerius had said.

  "Show them we are targets," Lloyd had muttered, but he went anyway.

  The arena was packed. Students cheered. In the Royal Box, Princess Isabella sat, watching with a critical eye. She looked stressed. Since almost killing Sarah, she had been quieter. More thoughtful.

  In the ring, Jamie was preening. The arrogant fencing instructor was loving the attention. He was wearing a white dueling outfit that was probably silk. He was fighting a senior student, Tom.

  "Watch closely!" Jamie shouted to the crowd. "Observe the elegance of the 'Swan's Riposte'!"

  He flourished his rapier. He did a little spin. He was ridiculous. But he was also good. His blade moved like liquid silver.

  Tom, a sturdy boy with a broadsword, was sweating. He looked nervous. He kept glancing at his own sword. It was a standard enchanted practice blade, designed to blunt impact.

  But Lloyd, watching from the sidelines, noticed something. Tom's grip was too tight. His knuckles were white. And there was a faint, almost invisible tremor in his arm.

  "Something's wrong," Lloyd thought. He activated his [All-Seeing Eye].

  He scanned Tom. The boy's aura was erratic. Fear. Adrenaline. But under that... something darker.

  A tendril of shadow was wrapped around Tom's wrist. It wasn't coming from a locket this time. It was coming from the pommel of his sword.

  "The sword," Lloyd realized. "It's infected."

  Before Lloyd could shout, Tom attacked.

  It wasn't a practice swing. It was a kill shot.

  Chapter : 1430

  Tom roared. The broadsword glowed with a dark, jagged red light. He swung it at Jamie's head with enough force to cleave a helmet.

  Jamie, to his credit, reacted instantly. He parried.

  CLANG.

  The impact sent sparks flying. Jamie stumbled back, his smile vanishing. "Student! Control yourself! This is a spar!"

  Tom didn't hear him. The shadow on his wrist pulsed. It tightened. It jerked his arm back for another swing.

  "I... I can't stop!" Tom screamed. Tears were streaming down his face. "It won't stop!"

  He lunged again. The sword moved with supernatural speed. Jamie barely dodged. The blade sliced through the air where his neck had been.

  "Guard!" Jamie shouted. "Malfunction!"

  The Royal Guards stepped forward from the edges of the arena. But they were too far away.

  Tom turned. He wasn't looking at Jamie anymore. The sword was pulling him. It was dragging him toward the Royal Box. Toward Isabella.

  "Target acquired," a whisper seemed to echo through the arena.

  Tom charged the stands. He leaped over the barrier with impossible strength. He landed in the box, right in front of the Princess.

  Isabella stood up, drawing her own sword. She was ready.

  But Jamie was faster. Desperate to be the hero, desperate to save his princess, he leaped after Tom.

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  "Get away from her!" Jamie yelled.

  He landed between Tom and Isabella. He raised his rapier to block Tom's downward slash.

  It was a good block. Perfect form. He would catch the blade and deflect it to the side, away from everyone.

  Lloyd watched. He saw the geometry. Jamie had it.

  But then, Lloyd saw something else.

  From the shadows of the upper stands, a ripple of distortion appeared. A tiny, invisible bolt of force shot out. It wasn't aimed at Tom. It was aimed at Jamie.

  The bolt hit Jamie's elbow.

  It was a nudge. A tiny, precise push. But in a duel of inches, a nudge was fatal.

  Jamie's arm buckled. His parry collapsed. Instead of deflecting the sword away, his blade slipped. He pushed Tom's sword down and forward.

  Directly at Isabella.

  Isabella gasped. She twisted her body. The corrupted broadsword sliced across her arm, cutting through her uniform and drawing blood.

  If Jamie hadn't "pushed" it, the blade would have missed her entirely.

  Silence fell over the arena.

  Isabella clutched her bleeding arm. She looked at Jamie. Her eyes were wide with shock and betrayal.

  Tom's sword finally shattered from the impact with the stone floor. The corruption faded. Tom collapsed, sobbing.

  But all eyes were on Jamie. He stood there, his rapier still raised, looking horrified.

  "I... I didn't..." Jamie stammered. "My arm... it slipped. I tried to block!"

  "You pushed it," a guard shouted. "I saw him! He redirected the blade into the Princess!"

  "Traitor!" another guard yelled.

  Before Jamie could explain, five Royal Guards tackled him. They slammed him into the ground. They disarmed him. They bound his hands.

  "No!" Jamie screamed. "I am loyal! I love her! It was an accident!"

  Isabella looked down at him. Her face was hard. She was bleeding. And in her world, results mattered more than intent.

  "Take him away," Isabella ordered coldly. "To the dungeon."

  Lloyd stood frozen on the sidelines. He had seen it. He had seen the invisible bolt. He knew Jamie was innocent. He was an idiot, but he wasn't an assassin.

  But he couldn't prove it. The bolt was gone. The energy signature had vanished.

  "It was a setup," Lloyd realized. The cold logic of the plan terrified him.

  The enemy hadn't just tried to kill Isabella. That was a bonus. The real goal was to frame Jamie. To remove one of the Academy's strongest fighters. To sow distrust. To make the Princess doubt her own allies.

  "Divide and conquer," Lloyd whispered.

  He watched as the guards dragged a weeping Jamie away. The students were shouting. Some were crying. The Academy was breaking apart.

  Lloyd scanned the upper stands, searching for the source of the invisible bolt. He saw a figure slipping out of a side exit. A cloak. A flash of a silver pin.

  He started to run. He needed to catch them.

  But Headmaster Valerius stepped in front of him. "Lloyd. Stop."

  "I saw something," Lloyd said urgently. "Jamie was framed. Someone interfered."

  "I believe you," Valerius said quietly. "But you cannot chase them now. Look."

  He pointed to the chaos. The students were panicking. The guards were aggressive. Isabella was bleeding.

  Chapter : 1431

  "If you run now," Valerius said, "you look guilty too. We need stability. We need calm."

  Lloyd clenched his fists. He hated this. He hated playing the long game when justice was right there.

  "Jamie is innocent," Lloyd said.

  "We will prove it," Valerius promised. "But we must do it carefully. If we accuse a phantom now, we look like we are covering for a traitor. We need evidence."

  Lloyd looked at the door where the figure had vanished. He had missed his chance.

  He turned back to the arena. Airin was there, helping with the panicked students. She looked at him. She looked scared.

  "The enemy is winning," Lloyd thought. "They took out our comms. They took out our fencing master. They hurt the Princess. And they did it all without showing their face."

  He walked over to where Isabella was being treated by a medic.

  "Princess," Lloyd said.

  Isabella looked up. She was pale. "He tried to kill me, Lloyd. Jamie. He... he pushed the blade."

  "It looked that way," Lloyd said carefully. "But eyes can be deceived."

  "I felt it," Isabella said, her voice trembling with anger. "I felt his blade guide the attack. Why? Was he jealous? Was he compromised?"

  "We will find out," Lloyd said. "But don't make a judgment yet. Fear makes us see monsters where there are only fools."

  Isabella glared at him. "A fool with a sword is a monster. He is in the dungeon. He stays there until I know the truth."

  She stood up and walked away, surrounded by her guards. She was closing off. She was becoming paranoid. Just like the enemy wanted.

  Lloyd stood alone in the center of the arena. The sand was stained with blood. The cheers were gone.

  He felt a cold, hard resolve settle in his stomach.

  "Okay," Lloyd said to the empty air. "You want to play dirty? You want to frame my people? You want to hurt my friends?"

  He activated his [All-Seeing Eye]. He looked at the shattered remains of Tom's sword. He saw the same black residue. The same signature.

  "I'm done playing defense," Lloyd decided. "I'm done waiting."

  He turned and walked toward the Old Tower. He needed his team. He needed Mina. He needed Rubaiya's brain and Daniel's muscle.

  "We're going to catch a ghost," Lloyd vowed. "And when we do, I'm going to make them wish they had never touched this school."

  The frame-up was perfect. The trap was sprung. But the enemy had made one mistake.

  They had left Lloyd Ferrum standing. And he was very, very angry.

  That evening, the Academy was quieter than a library after closing time. The students were locked in their dorms. The guards were patrolling the perimeter. Fear hung over the castle like a wet blanket.

  Lloyd sat in his office in the Old Tower. He had a map of the kingdom spread out on his desk. He was drawing lines connecting noble houses, trade routes, and curse incidents.

  "It's a web," Lloyd muttered. "A big, sticky web."

  He heard footsteps on the stairs. Heavy, rhythmic footsteps.

  The door opened. It was Daniel, the discipline instructor. He looked like a stone wall that had learned to walk.

  "Professor Ferrum," Daniel said. He stood at attention. "I have completed the perimeter check. The physical defenses are secure. No one entered or left during the incident."

  "Good work, Daniel," Lloyd said, not looking up. "Did you find anything unusual?"

  "Nothing," Daniel said. "However, I must protest your earlier assessment."

  Lloyd looked up. "Which one? I have many assessments. Some of them are about the quality of the cafeteria food."

  "About Jamie," Daniel said. His face was stern. "You suggested he was framed. I have reviewed the witness statements. Twenty students say he pushed the blade. The Princess says she felt his intent."

  "Witnesses are unreliable," Lloyd said. "They see what they expect to see. They saw a sword moving toward the Princess. They panicked."

  "Jamie is arrogant," Daniel stated. "He is desperate for glory. It is plausible that he staged an attack to save her, but failed to control the student."

  "Plausible," Lloyd agreed. "But wrong. Jamie is arrogant, yes. But he's also a coward. He wouldn't risk a stunt like that. He loves his own skin too much."

  "Cowardice can be a motivator," Daniel argued. "Or perhaps he has been compromised. Perhaps he is the traitor."

  Lloyd leaned back in his chair. He looked at Daniel. The man was rigid. He saw the world in black and white. Rules and violations.

  Chapter : 1432

  "Do you really think Jamie has the brainpower to orchestrate a curse that corrupts artifacts and bypasses ancient wards?" Lloyd asked. "Jamie once got his hand stuck in a vase because he wanted to see if there was gold inside."

  Daniel paused. A flicker of doubt crossed his face. "He is... not intellectually gifted."

  "He is a potato with good hair," Lloyd said. "He's a pawn, Daniel. Just like the student with the sword. Someone moved him."

  "Then who?" Daniel asked. "Who benefits?"

  "That is the million-gold-coin question," Lloyd said. He rolled up the map. "For now, let the official story stand. Jamie is the suspect. It makes the real traitor feel safe. When the enemy feels safe, they make mistakes."

  Daniel nodded slowly. "Deception. I do not like it. It is disorderly."

  "War is disorderly," Lloyd said. "We are just trying to survive the mess."

  Daniel saluted and left. Lloyd watched the door close.

  He was alone again. He liked being alone. It was easier to think.

  He pulled a small notebook from his pocket. He had started keeping a list of suspects.

  1. The Duchess of Thorne (Motive: Money/Steel Contracts).

  2. The Vice-Principal (Motive: Ambition/Headmaster's Job).

  3. The Royal Alchemist (Motive: Professional Jealousy).

  He tapped the pen against his chin. The curse was specific. It targeted items. It inverted their function.

  "Why weapons?" Lloyd thought. "Why a sword? Why a locket? Why a drafting pen?"

  It was about trust. The curse was attacking the things people trusted. A student trusts her pen. A warrior trusts his sword. A girl trusts her necklace.

  "It's psychological warfare," Lloyd realized. "They want us to be afraid of our own tools. They want us to be afraid of magic itself."

  He stood up and walked to the window. He looked out at the dark campus. Somewhere out there, the person responsible was sleeping soundly. Or maybe they were awake, planning the next accident.

  Lloyd felt a cold anger in his chest. He hated bullies. He hated people who used fear to control others. And he really, really hated people who messed with his schedule.

  "Jamie is going to owe me big time for this," Lloyd muttered. "I'm going to make him clean the entire tower with a toothbrush when he gets out."

  He turned back to his workbench. The Aegis suit was waiting. He picked up a wrench.

  He couldn't solve the political puzzle tonight. But he could tighten a bolt. He could calibrate a sensor. He could fix something small.

  "One screw at a time," Lloyd whispered. "That's how you build a giant robot. And that's how you dismantle a conspiracy."

  He started to work. The rhythmic sound of metal on metal filled the tower, a lonely heartbeat in the silent school. The frame-up had worked on everyone else. But it hadn't worked on the engineer. And the engineer was keeping score.

  Princess Isabella was sitting in her private quarters at the Academy, pacing back and forth like a tiger in a cage that was too small and smelled too much like lavender.

  "He is impossible," she said to the empty room. "Absolutely impossible."

  She was talking about Lloyd. Again.

  Since the incident in the library where he defended Mina, Isabella had been forced to re-evaluate her assessment of Professor Ferrum. He wasn't just a boring academic. He wasn't just a failure. He was... noble. He was protective. He was surprisingly brave when it counted.

  And that was annoying.

  "He pretends to be cold," Isabella muttered, stopping in front of a mirror. "He pretends to be all logic and numbers. But I saw him. I saw how he looked at her. I saw how he stood up to me."

  She narrowed her eyes at her reflection. "He is a secret romantic. He has to be. He is hiding a burning heart of passion under that tweed jacket."

  She had decided. She needed to know the truth. She needed to peel back the layers of the onion that was Lloyd Ferrum. And the best way to expose a secret romantic was to romance him.

  "It is a tactical operation," she told herself. "Operation: Seduce the Professor. Objective: Confirm emotional capacity. Secondary Objective: See if he blushes."

  She smoothed her uniform. She didn't want to be too obvious. She needed a scenario. A classic scenario. A damsel in distress moment.

  She grabbed a bottle of ink from her desk. It was black, permanent, and messy. Perfect.

  "The Library," she decided. "He is always in the library. It is his natural habitat."