Chapter 10 – Confrontation at the Academy
The gates of Arcana Academy loomed ahead, torchlight glowing against the stone walls. Normally Karl Draven would've felt a strange pride walking through them, but tonight he only felt the weight of what they'd just survived.
His fists still ached from grappling the doomfang. His shirt was torn, his arms streaked with dirt. Lira leaned against Jax, her face pale from the spellwork she had forced through her body. Even Jax—always quick with a joke—walked in silence, his lantern dim and trembling in his hand.
But as they reached the courtyard, voices rose like a storm.
Dozens of students had gathered, drawn by the shockwave from the forest. Teachers flanked the crowd, and at the center stood Headmaster Orwen, tall and stern, his silver robes trimmed in blue light. His gaze snapped to Karl and his friends the moment they crossed the threshold.
"Inside," he ordered. His voice carried like a command spell. "Now."
---
The trio were ushered into the High Hall, a domed chamber lined with banners and enchanted lamps. The students weren't allowed in, but whispers still drifted through the doors as the crowd strained to hear.
Professors stood in a semicircle. Karl recognized Professor Malken, who had never liked him, arms folded tightly. Beside him, Professor Solenne, the rune mistress, looked worried but curious.
Headmaster Orwen paced in front of them. "The three of you entered the Darkwood. Against every rule. Against every warning."
Lira tried to speak. "Headmaster, it wasn't—"
"Silence," Orwen snapped. His gaze fell on Karl. "Tell me why, boy. And choose your words carefully."
Karl's jaw tightened. "We found a Void Mark. Near the training grounds. If we didn't check it out, more people could've been hurt."
Murmurs broke among the professors.
"A mark?" Solenne asked sharply. "Describe it."
Lira stepped forward, clutching her satchel. "Circular, jagged lines, pulsing with violet energy. It was acting like a gate. Something—or someone—was trying to force it open."
The air grew colder at her words.
"And what did you encounter?" Orwen pressed.
Karl's fists clenched. He saw again the shadow figure, the massive beast clawing through the rift. "Hounds. Shadows. And something worse. It called itself a doomfang. We destroyed the mark before it fully came through."
"You expect us to believe this?" Professor Malken scoffed. His eyes narrowed at Karl. "Creatures of that scale don't appear for no reason. Unless…" He let the pause hang like a dagger. "…unless someone is drawing them here."
All eyes turned to Karl.
He felt his chest tighten, but he stood his ground. "You think I'm working with them?"
Malken sneered. "I think ever since you arrived, the academy has been plagued by disturbances. No wand. No magic. Yet shadows swarm wherever you walk."
"That's not fair!" Jax burst out. His voice cracked, but he stepped forward anyway. "If Karl hadn't been there, we'd all be gone. He held that monster back with his bare hands!"
A hush fell. Even the professors seemed unsettled by the image.
Solenne studied Karl, her brow furrowed. "No ordinary strength could do that. You resisted void energy without unraveling. That isn't human."
Karl bristled. "I'm human enough. And I'm not your enemy."
Headmaster Orwen raised a hand, silencing the room. His gaze was unreadable, like stone carved with frost. "Enough. Whether Karl Draven is a danger or a shield, we will determine. Until then—he remains at the academy. Under watch."
Malken's mouth tightened, but he said nothing more.
---
The trio were dismissed to the dormitory wing. Students were waiting.
The whispers started at once.
"That's him."
"The fracture boy."
"Did you hear? He fought off a doomfang."
"No—he summoned it. My cousin saw the smoke."
Some students stared with awe, others with suspicion. A few even stepped back as Karl passed, as though afraid his shadow might bite them.
At the far end of the corridor, a voice rang out: "Draven!"
Karl turned.
Ronan Vale stood there, his robe spotless, his wand gleaming with silver runes. The noble-born prodigy of Class A, Ronan had been Karl's loudest critic since day one. Now his lips curled into a smirk.
"Breaking rules, summoning monsters, endangering half the academy…" Ronan's tone was smooth, practiced. "Impressive résumé. Perhaps you should apply to the Void King directly."
Lira bristled. "Karl saved lives—"
"Saved?" Ronan cut her off. "Or lured danger close enough to pretend at heroics? Some of us actually trained for years to protect this academy. We don't need muscle-bound peasants dragging curses to our doorstep."
Karl's fists tightened at his sides. He wanted to step forward, to end Ronan's arrogance with one punch. But the memory of Orwen's warning burned in his mind.
So he smiled instead. A sharp, humorless smile. "Funny. For someone who claims to be strong, you sure spend a lot of time talking."
Gasps rippled down the hall. Ronan's smirk faltered for just a second before he straightened, his eyes blazing.
"This isn't over," he spat, and turned on his heel.
---
Later that night, the three sat in the empty common room. Lira's runes flickered softly across the table as she tried to steady her hands. Jax poked at the fire, his usual grin dimmed.
"They'll never trust us now," Lira whispered. "Half the professors think you're cursed. And Ronan will spread that rumor until the whole academy chants it."
Karl stared into the flames. He thought of the shadow's words echoing in his skull: Fracture. You cannot resist forever.
He thought of the way the doomfang had fought, as if it knew him.
Finally, he said quietly, "Then we'll just have to prove them wrong. Every time. Until they can't deny it anymore."
Lira looked at him, a flicker of hope in her eyes. Jax leaned back with a weary laugh. "Well. If anyone's stubborn enough to fistfight the entire void, it's you, Karl."
Karl didn't laugh. He only clenched his fists tighter, the firelight glinting off the sweat on his knuckles.
Because deep down, he knew this was just the beginning.