CHAPTER 763: LESSONS FROM THE SCARRED

Elemental fusion, enchanted weapon mastery, and craft: the number of specialised courses multiplied rapidly as the teachers introduced their fields.

Among them, Adam realised that some classes could only be taken by students of the corresponding House. Abyssal summoning studies or application of advanced transmutation to living beings, for example, intrigued him, but he couldn’t join them. Still, all this knowledge should be available in the college’s libraries. He’d check on them later.

For now, his gaze lingered on the teachers who taught classes for the House of Exorcism.

Though they were all magi, these teachers made his hair stand on end. They held themselves not with pride for their accomplishments or strength, but the casual certitude that none could rival them. Their eyes were sharp, and they all wore either a heavy cape that hid their bodies or long, dark scarves that wrapped around their jaws.

Adam saw what lay beneath—ancient scars worn like trophies. Teeth were visible through the missing left lip and cheek of a female teacher. From a male’s neck down to his toes, he saw the rough remains of what had once been smooth skin, before horrible burns had turned it into a mess. They unsettled him, but also somewhat comforted him. They were true experts forged in the crucible of antique wars, not the theories of safe labs.

As if feeling his gaze, the female teacher stepped forward. The scent of charred flesh clung to her as she passed, and when she spoke, her voice carried across the room like a training officer addressing her troops. "I’m Diane Nyx Virelda. I’ll teach you dark arts and how to counter them."

Then she stepped back, letting her unelaborated explanation ripple into the crowd.

While the students of the other two Houses grew as silent as monks, the exorcists rose as one. They lined up in front of Diane, schedule in hand.

Adam watched them nod respectfully for a moment before turning to Quintella. "I’ll be right back."

As she stuffed her mouth with another pastry and nodded, he lined up with his new comrades. The registration process felt almost mechanical. Diana waved her hand, branding her name and course in three boxes on the schedules—two hours, three times a week.

Then, she stepped back, and the burned man took her place. "Louis Sol Zevrin," he said, his raspy voice echoing like a broken bell. "I’ll teach you how to ward off and capture souls—evil or not."

Every exorcism student moved to Louis, and Adam followed, frowning thoughtfully as Louis branded three more boxes in his schedule.

Souls. Mages hated ghosts. Had he joined the faction that dealt with them?

The next teacher’s introduction proved his deductions wrong.

"I’m Salem Draal Zephros, teacher of demonology and forbidden rituals." He waved his palm, the soft gesture carrying unquestionable authority. "Step back, students. I only accept the bravest."

Wide-eyed, Adam moved to Salem. It was what he had enrolled for: to learn how to unbind the demonic cleaver nestled in his soul sea and break the contract that prevented him from doing so.

However, the man raised an eyebrow split by a deep scar and shook his head. "This knowledge is not for a new student to learn. Try next year."

Adam clenched his jaw, yet despite his tightening fists, he stepped back, allowing a teenager two years his junior to register. Age or power didn’t matter; he understood it. Perhaps what did was experience or trust, then.

"Next year." He nodded begrudgingly.

Before he could return to his table, however, the rector suddenly rose. The teachers cast him curious glances as he strocked his gray beard.

"This year promises many surprises. Therefore, I, Haldris Caer Virelion, will teach the House of Exorcism its oldest battle technique," he declared, his golden eye shining with purpose only he knew about.

Both teachers and students erupted into hushed, confused whispers or gasps. The legendary rector teaching? It hadn’t happened for at least sixty years!

The exorcism students instantly rushed in front of the rector under the other’s envious gaze. The boy who had switched houses earlier bit his lip, regretting his choice. Most ended up sighing. The rector’s teaching wasn’t worth the other horrible courses. Demonology? Ghost hunting? They’d rather live peacefully, craft potions and artefacts by transmuting materials, or partake in Brineheart political struggles to raise their family to prominence.

Adam didn’t sigh. He couldn’t when Haldris’ eye lingered on him for a heartbeat. Tightening his lips, he moved with the other students. It had been part of his plan to attract teachers with his talent, but the rector in person? That fell out of his expectations.

The air thickened with eager anticipation as four boxes in his schedule were engraved by Haldris. ’Four hours per lesson?’ He scrutinised the parchment, tilting his head. That was the longest course he had received, bringing the total to twenty-eight hours per week—almost too much for him to study in the libraries.

As he decided that the other courses could wait until the next semester, and returned to sit beside Quintella, Diane grinned behind her scarf. She moved closer to Haldris, a hand planted on her hip. "Another candidate? Let’s hope this one won’t disappoint us."

Louis joined them, green flames igniting in his eyes, not from hope but exasperated resignation. "How many times have we tried? How many successes did we meet? He’ll fail, just like the others."

"I wonder if he will." Haldris simply giggled. "We’ll find out in a year or two. No need to treat him differently from the other students until then." Then, his figure silently faded from the common hall.

The teachers of the House of Exorcism, the oldest magi in Brineheart, each bearing a particle family name no longer granted since the establishment of the Prestige system, nodded thoughtfully.

Adam felt their conflicted gazes, the sheer intensity searing and making his back shudder as he went to sit beside Quintella, who had been approached by girls older than her.

"You’ll see!" a twelve-year-old girl exclaimed. "Even if our House ends up last in the yearly competition and isn’t popular, our dorm’s still the best!"

Quintella fidgeted with her fingers beneath the table, her eyes slipping to the side. "R-Really? N-Nice..." She stuttered, leaning back as if to put distance between her and the strangers.

"Yes," another chuckled. "Even our managers are the best!"

"I’m back." Adam pulled his chair, placing his hand over Quintella’s, who grabbed and squeezed it.

The girls covered their mouths, blushing as they exchanged shy glances. "The new student!"

"He’s so handsome," the first whispered, while the other brushed her silky green hair back.

With a cough to recompose herself, her lips curled into her most beautiful smile. "I’m Mathilda. Just Mathilda in the college. After all, our family’s standing doesn’t matter here."

The other followed her lead. "Glad to meet two new friends! Oh! I’m Sarah."

"Well, Mathilda, Sarah, I hope you’ll take good care of my little sister." He patted Quintella’s shoulders, grinning. "Give her some time to feel comfortable around you. You’ll see she’s the sweetest."

Mathilda nodded while Quintella knitted her brows. But before anyone could answer, Astride materialised in front of their table, the booming sound of her clapping drowning their voices. "The ceremony is now over. Follow me to the dorms, students."