The atmosphere in the Academy’s Grand Hall was less like a school exam and more like a gladiatorial festival. The spectator stands, usually empty, were packed to capacity. Nobles in house colors sat in reserved boxes, while wealthy merchants and alumni crowded the lower tiers. The air smelled of roasted nuts, perfumes, and anxiety.
Ray scanned the floor, utilizing the Gritty Detective’s ‘Observation’ Skill. He spotted them near the prep area entrance.
Eliza stood with Cassian, but they weren't alone. A middle-aged couple stood with them, radiating an aura of wealth that was distinct from the old nobility. The man wore silks that were expensive but practical, cut for movement rather than display. His eyes were sharp, constantly assessing the value of everything he looked at. The woman beside him was elegant, her gaze warm but observant.
Ray approached, bowing respectfully.
“Eliza, senior Cassian.”
Eliza turned, looking relieved.
“Ray! You made it.”
She gestured to the couple.
“Ray, these are my parents. Vailes and Esha Vance.”
Ray turned to Vailes Vance, executing a perfect, respectful bow.
“Lord Vance. Lady Vance. It is an honor. I owe your house a debt of gratitude for your assistance in my family’s… restructuring.”
Vailes looked at Ray, his sharp eyes narrowing as he assessed the twelve-year-old boy. He didn't see a child; he saw the entity that had navigated a contract dispute with the Argent Hand.
“The pleasure is mine, Lord Croft,”
Vailes said, his voice smooth and rich. He extended a hand, shaking Ray’s not as an adult to a child, but as one businessman to another.
“My daughter told me of the… creativity required for that transaction. Impressive work. Most lords would have tried to use a sword; you used a ledger. I respect that.”
Esha Vance stepped forward, beaming.
“And to think, you’re the one leading our Eliza into battle! We were so proud when we heard she registered. The first mage in the Vance line!”
Eliza’s face turned a brilliant shade of crimson.
“Mother, please. We’re trying to maintain a professional reputation here.”
“Nonsense!”
Esha laughed, patting Eliza’s cheek.
“Wealth we have in abundance, darling. But magic? That’s a legacy money can’t buy.”
It was a warm, human moment, a stark contrast to the cold politics of the academy. But the warmth was shattered an instant later.
CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.
The sound was heavy, rhythmic, and menacing. It cut through the chatter of the crowd like a drumbeat. The students nearby fell silent, parting like water.
A shadow fell over the Vance group.
Ray turned. Standing behind them was a giant of a man encased in steel.
It was Sergeant Svane. But he was not wearing the grey wool of an attendant. He was clad in the full, official plate armor of the Silver Aegis. The metal was polished to a mirror sheen, etched with the protective runes of the Headmaster’s personal regiment. A high-plumed helm was tucked under his arm, and a heavy, master-work greatsword hung at his hip.
He wasn't just a guard; he was a monument to martial power.
Vailes Vance, a man who knew the cost of everything, went pale.
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“By the Founders,”
Vailes whispered.
“That’s… that’s a Silver Aegis.”
Svane ignored the gawking crowd. He ignored the wealthy merchant. He turned his stoic gaze to Ray.
He executed a sharp, crisp salute, fist to heart, followed by a deep, formal bow from the waist, the kind reserved for high-ranking officers or esteemed peers.
“Lord Croft,”
Svane rumbled, his voice carrying clearly through the sudden silence.
“The perimeter is secure.”
A shockwave of whispers rippled through the stands. Ray felt a flicker of surprise behind his mask of calm. Svane had broken the ‘plain clothes’ protocol not by accident, but by design. He was sending a message to anyone watching:
Touch this boy, and you answer to the Headmaster’s executioner.
Svane straightened, his expression grave but his eyes holding a fierce, personal loyalty.
“Regrettably, as I have already told you that I am also doing my Gold Aegis promotion and the bracket will begin shortly,”
Svane said, his tone tinged with genuine regret.
“I will not be able to witness the start of your promotion trials.”
He paused, his gaze intense.
“But know that I will finish it with haste. I intend to secure my rank quickly, so that I may return to witness your victory. Good fortune, my lord.”
Ray looked up at the towering soldier. He saw the man’s determination not just to protect him, but to prove himself worthy of the life Ray had saved.
Ray offered a respectful bow in return, acknowledging the warrior, not the servant.
“And good fortune to you, Sergeant Svane,”