Chapter 14
The oak-paneled meeting room fell quiet the instant the door opened.
Maximiliano Zoltan stepped inside, shoulders relaxed as if he'd strolled in from a pleasant walk rather than a battlefield. Dust still clung to the hem of his jacket; the faint scuff on his boots betrayed a journey just finished. The air shifted—everyone straightened without meaning to, not out of fear, but out of habit.
Cassie was the first to speak, her tone edged with dry amusement.
"Look who finally decided to show up."
Zoltan's grin was quick and bright. "Come on, Cassie… you know I missed you guys."
Warren muttered something under his breath and rolled his eyes. Eric didn't bother to hide his smirk but stayed leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
As Zoltan moved toward the front table, his gaze snagged on a face he didn't recognize.
He stopped just in front of Ethan.
"Hold on," Zoltan said, his brow quirking in curiosity. "Do my eyes deceive me, or do we have an eighth seat at the Top Seven meeting tonight?"
Ethan blinked, caught off-guard. "Uh… I—"
Freddie stepped in quickly. "I insisted he come. Thought it'd be good for him to hear what's going on."
Zoltan tilted his head at Ethan, not unkindly. "A new student, huh? You do know these meetings are normally for Top Seven only?"
"I… I didn't— I mean, I figured, but—" Ethan started to stammer.
Zoltan's grin returned, easy and disarming. "Relax, kid. You're already here. Might as well stay till we're done."
He gave Freddie an approving nod before continuing up to the head of the table.
Eric asks Zoltan "so how'd you even know he's the mole"
Zoltan shoots him a knowing smirk" well I just got back from Dione didn't I?. I caught him red handed leaking information to the ghosts.
Cassie's eyes followed him. "Well? We've been waiting. Where's He?"
Zoltan spread his hands. "Oh, Joe? He's six feet under the grave by now."
The words dropped into the room like a stone in a still pond—everyone froze, even Freddie. Ethan felt his stomach jolt.
A beat later, Zoltan chuckled under his breath. "Guys I'm kidding. He's alive. Brought him back to the Arcanis dungeon for interrogation."
Relieved exhalations slipped out around the table, but Zoltan's smile thinned just a touch as he added,
"Though in the state I left him in… I'm sure he wouldn't mind being six feet under the grave."
Silence followed—this time heavy for a different reason.
Then Zoltan clapped his hands lightly, the moment breaking. "Anyway. He'll talk soon enough. Meanwhile, don't let your guard down. Betrayal spreads fast if you don't cut it early."
His tone carried no threat, only the weight of experience.
William gave a curt nod, Eric's eyes flickered in thought, and Cassie leaned back with a sigh—meeting adjourned for the night.
Outside the chamber, the hallway felt cooler, quieter.
Freddie walked beside Ethan under the arching lantern-lit corridor.
"That's Maximiliano Zoltan?" Ethan asked at last.
"Yeah," Freddie replied. "Vice-captain of the Top Seven."
Ethan let out a breath. "He doesn't talk like a second-year. Feels older… heavier somehow. People really listen to him."
Freddie's mouth curved faintly. "That's Zoltan for you."
The next few days settled into a strange calm across Arcanis Academy. Rumors about the mole still rippled through the halls, but classes carried on, and for the first-years, the tension felt distant—like a storm hovering over the mountains.
The library's tall windows let in slanted bars of afternoon light that stretched across rows of worn tables and stacked books. In the far corner, a lone chessboard stood between Eric and Zoltan.
"Checkmate."
Zoltan leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile as he tipped Eric's king with one finger.
Eric exhaled through his nose, half amused, half annoyed. "That's the fourth time today. You really don't get bored of this?"
"Not at all," Zoltan replied easily. "Life is chess, Eric. Chess is life. Until you understand that philosophy, you'll never beat me."
Eric muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a curse under his breath and began resetting the pieces.
A soft presence hovered near the end of the aisle.
"Luna," Zoltan said without even turning his head. "You've been standing there a while. Come over."
The petite girl shifted forward, red eyes catching a glint of the late sun. "I didn't want to interrupt."
"You're not interrupting," Zoltan assured her, rising from his chair. To Eric he added, "Hold my seat. Don't start another match without me."
They stepped a few paces aside, toward the quiet table at the other side of the library.
Zoltan visibly concerned asks her " is something bothering you Luna?"
Luna fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. "I don't know it's complicated. It's… like I'm falling behind when it comes to being an actual ghost hunter. Everyone seems to have this fire or motivation that keeps making them stronger. And I get this feeling that no one even notices I'm there half the time."
Zoltan tilted his head at her, tone soft but teasing. "What about that boyfriend of yours? The new kid?"
Color rushed into Luna's pale cheeks. "He's not— I don't— We're just friends."
"Mm-hm. Sure," he said with an exaggerated shrug. "You two are always together. Hard not to notice the way you look at each other."
She looked away, mumbling, "We're not…"
Zoltan's grin eased into something gentler. "Alright, if you say so. But listen, Luna—don't sell yourself short. You're not weak. You should be competing at the same level as me and William."
Her eyes widened slightly. "Me? That's… no, I'm nowhere near—"
"You could be," he cut in, tone still kind but carrying a sharper edge now. "You avoid danger. That's your biggest flaw. Being a ghost hunter means risking something—sometimes everything. Until you accept that, people will keep overlooking you like another quiet piece on the board."
Luna swallowed hard at his words, unsure whether to feel encouraged or shaken.
He softened again. "Think about it. Every piece has power if you're willing to move it."
Evening painted the campus gardens in copper light. Freddie lay stretched on a bench beneath the slanting branches of an ash tree, one arm folded under his head. Laughter drifted from a couple walking past, their hands linked, sharing some private joke.
Something unreadable flickered across Freddie's face.
"Missing someone, lonely boy?"
The voice carried a lilt of mockery. Freddie turned his head to find William leaning casually against the bench's backrest, hands in pockets.
"Evening, William," Freddie replied, keeping his tone neutral.
"Relax," William said, sliding down to sit beside him. "You look like you've been staring holes through the clouds all day."
"Just… thinking."
"That's your first mistake." William's grin was easy, almost conspiratorial. "Life's too short to dwell on one thing for too long. Most people take everything way too seriously. Learn to loosen up. Gamble a little, live a little."
Freddie shot him a side-eye. "Great advice—from the guy the headmaster keeps lecturing about gambling."
William laughed. "See? You're learning already."
For a moment, the two sat in companionable silence as the last of the sunlight drained from the horizon. Then William pushed himself to his feet with a casual stretch.
"Anyway, I've got a mission. Don't stay out here brooding all night."
Freddie shook his head with the hint of a smile as William strolled off.
The sunset streamed in through the tall windows of the cafeteria, spilling over rows of crowded tables. The air was thick with chatter, the smell of roasted meat and warm bread drifting between trays.
Ethan slid into his usual seat across from Luna while Sage dropped her tray beside him with a clatter.
"Busy morning?" Sage asked, already spearing a piece of chicken.
"Just the usual," Ethan said. "Except for the part where you once told me I had a lot to learn. I'm starting to think I've proven you wrong."
Sage smirked. "You've improved— I'll give you that. Still not enough to beat me, though."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "We'll see about that next tournament."
Luna hid a tiny smile behind her cup of tea, her soft voice slipping in: "You two never stop."
Their light back-and-forth drew a few curious glances from neighboring tables. For a brief moment, the tension of the last meeting felt far away.
That calm was broken when a tall upper-classman approached their table, the silver trim on his sleeve marking him as a third-year aide.
"Ethan Carter?"
Ethan looked up warily. "Yeah?"
"The headmaster wants to see you. Right now."
The three exchanged puzzled looks. Sage's brows lifted, while Luna's fingers tightened around her cup.
Ethan pushed back his chair. "Guess I'm in trouble already."
The heavy oak doors creaked as Ethan stepped inside. The scent of old paper and faint traces of burned incense hung in the air. Headmaster Raymond stood behind his desk, calm yet commanding, while two figures waited near the window: William—arms folded, as if already bored—and a familiar man in a dark hunter's coat.
The man's head turned at the sound of the door. His eyes locked on Ethan.
Ethan froze.
"…Mark?"
For a moment, the room was heavy with silence—recognition flashing in both their faces.
"Ah, good. You're here," the headmaster said, breaking the tension. "Ethan, I hope you're ready. You and William will be accompanying Mark on an outside patrol. Originally, I planned to send only william, but given your progress—and seeing as Zoltan has just returned from Dione—I believe you can learn a thing or two from fieldwork."
Ethan's pulse quickened. His first real mission.
He glanced at Mark again, still trying to process that the man who had first spotted him as a ghost was standing there in the flesh.
Raymond's tone carried no room for doubt. "Get prepared and be at the west gate in an hour. Dismissed."
As Ethan stepped out of the office, his thoughts tangled with anticipation and unease: a mission alongside William—and Mark.
The halls of Arcanis felt quieter than usual, as if the building itself sensed the coming change.