31. When the Lazy Teacher is Actually a Prodigy

The Principal stared at the dull silver ring sitting innocuously on his polished mahogany desk.

He didn’t scream. He didn't throw a tantrum. Instead, he buried his face in his hands, letting out a hollow sigh that sounded like it held ten years of administrative stress.

"Arion," the Principal muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "I am trying to draft a cover story to stop House Ambrose from legally dismantling this Academy. And your solution is to slam an unidentified artifact onto my desk?"

CLINK.

The Secretary set her teacup down. She simply stood up, slid on a pair of gloves, and picked up the ring.

Instantly, her sharp eyes narrowed. She didn't need a magnifying spell to feel the sheer, devouring hunger spinning inside the metal. It wasn't a weapon. It was a forged cage.

"You found a piece of architecture that actually holds your interest," the Secretary murmured to Sophia. She turned her sharp gaze to the principal. "Principal. Keys to the Deep Forge."

The Principal didn't argue. He just let out another bone-deep breath, opened his drawer, and tossed a heavy black iron key onto the desk.

Ten minutes later, the heavy iron door of the Deep Forge slammed shut behind them.

Located four levels beneath the Academy’s foundation, the room was completely shielded by meters of dense lead.

Arion stood near the entrance, his hands casually shoved in his pockets.

Without the ring on his finger, he felt strangely light. His internal pathways were entirely unchained. He wasn't leaking a single drop of mana, and his passive control was perfectly steady.

If I throw a heavy spell right now, Arion thought, rolling his shoulders, it’ll be like firing a siege cannon.

"Your output is uncapped," Kara observed flatly, her whirlpool eyes tracking his aura.

"Wasn't planning on it, kid," Arion deadpanned.

In the center of the room, Sophia had undergone a complete transformation.

The aggressively lazy slacker was gone. Her hands moved with terrifying, surgical precision as she hovered the ring inside a containment field.

Arion leaned against the cold stone wall, watching his teacher work. "Well," Arion murmured. "She actually looks competent. It's kind of unsettling."

The Secretary stood a few feet away, her hands neatly folded. "The slacker you are accustomed to is a fabricated identity, Arion. This is the truth of her."

Arion raised an eyebrow. "I thought she was just genuinely carefree. You know, didn't give a damn about everything or even the Academy."

"She acts like that because she finds standard theory insultingly basic, like you," the Secretary corrected. "She's an architectural prodigy. Back then, she'd dismantle relic-tier artifacts and rewrite them."

Kara blinked. "That explains her entire office."

The Secretary smiled faintly. "Precisely. The Principal knows she funnels her budget into velvet sofas. We look the other way. You don't fire a once-in-a-century genius just because she has expensive taste."

At the workbench, sweat beaded on Sophia's forehead. She completely ignored the conversation. She didn't try to break Arion’s ancient cage; she carefully thinned the geometric threads, adjusting the vibration down so it could catch a fragile human’s mana instead of a monster's.

FWOOSH.

The light flared, then instantly died down. The ring dropped onto the anvil with a quiet heartbeat.

"It's done," Sophia panted, leaning heavily against the workbench. "A human-grade surrogate anchor."

Arion snatched the modified ring out of the air, slipping it into his pocket. "Perfect. Now we just need to get through the front door."

Back in the office.

The Ambrose Estate utilized national-grade Wards that would vaporize any uninvited guest. Sneaking through the exterior was a statistical impossibility.

The Secretary paused her stamping. She looked up with a knowing, almost malicious glint in her eyes.

"There is exactly one way you are getting through those gates," she said, turning her sharp gaze toward the doorframe. "I remember... You had quite a history with Victoria Ambrose."

Sophia visibly wilted. She aggressively avoided eye contact, staring at a crack in the floorboards as if it held the answers to the universe. Her lazy persona crashed right back down onto her shoulders like a lead weight.

"No," Sophia whispered in horror. "No, no, no."

Arion raised an eyebrow, looking between the two women. "What does that mean?"

"They were classmates," the Secretary smiled. "The two prodigies of their generation. And bitter rivals."

Arion gave Sophia a long, flat, utterly unconvinced look.

"You complain about getting exhausted just walking to the cafeteria," Arion deadpanned. "And now you were a rival of Sebastian's sister; what madness."

"Hey! I am highly efficient when motivated!" Sophia snapped weakly from the doorframe.

"Your motivation is usually finding a quieter place to sleep," Arion shot back. "What did you do to Victoria Ambrose? Sleep on her favorite chair? Or maybe sleep on her lap?"

"A ruthless, high-strung perfectionist genius," the Secretary replied smoothly, cutting through their bickering. "Victoria Ambrose demanded absolute perfection from everyone around her."

"And Teacher Sophia?" Kara prompted.

"Sophia was the slacker who slept through practical exams," the Secretary said, her smile widening. "And still casually shattered every single record Victoria ever set."

Kara blinked once. "The psychological damage of that dynamic on a perfectionist would be catastrophic."

"It was," the Secretary agreed cheerfully. "Victoria despised her."

"I am not doing it," Sophia said, her voice cracking slightly. She slid down the doorframe until she was crouching on the floor, hugging her knees. "You don't understand, Arion. Victoria isn't just strict. She’s terrifying. She talks so fast, and she uses big words, and she always points out that I look like a stray cat!"

Arion stared down at her teacher.

"You do look like a stray cat," Arion pointed out bluntly. "Have you looked in a mirror lately? Your hair is a mess."

"It's an aesthetic choice!" Sophia yelled into her knees.

"Aesthetic mess," Arion corrected flatly. "Just go talk to her. We need the door open. How bad can one stuck-up noble be?"

"She will try to incinerate me on principle!" Sophia whined. "Send the Principal! He's the Principal! Dealing with her is literally his job description!"

"Her pride is her weakness," the Secretary continued smoothly, completely ignoring Sophia's breakdown. "She won't ignore a formal Academic parley if her greatest rival is demanding it. She'll open the gates just to prove she's still superior to you."

"I said no!" Sophia groaned. "I'm not going."

The Secretary turned her sharp gaze down to the crouching teacher.

"Sophia," the Secretary said pleasantly. "If you do not get into that carriage, I will personally initiate a full financial audit of your seventh-floor suite. The imported velvet sofa will be confiscated. The lavender tea supply will be burned. And you will be permanently relocated to a damp basement office with a single, highly uncomfortable wooden stool."

Sophia froze.

She slowly lifted her head, her eyes wide with absolute, unadulterated terror. "...You wouldn't."

The Secretary just smiled. It was a terrifying smile.

Sophia stared at her for a long, agonizing moment. Then, with a soul-crushing sigh, she let her head thunk against the wall. "I need to go iron my formal robes."

"Excellent," the Secretary said briskly, clapping her hands together.

The plan was locked into place. Sophia would lead the diplomatic charge. Arion and Kara would accompany her legitimately, acting purely as her Academy students.

"One final parameter," Kara said, turning to Arion. "The estate wards detect the chants. If you use yours, you'll be flagged as a hostile anomaly. Without your ring, you can't afford to blast your way out, because it can destroy the entire estate."

Arion smirked, adjusting his collar. "Zero-combat stealth infiltration. Got it."

Several hours later, the freezing night air whipped past a luxurious carriage bearing the Academy’s official gold seal.

It pulled to a halt before the massive, black-iron gates of the Ambrose Estate. Dozens of elite guards stood at attention, their weapons shining under the moonlight.

The carriage door opened.

Sophia stepped out first.

She wasn't wearing her messy clothes. Dressed in sharp, immaculate Faculty robes, her posture was perfectly straight. Her chin was raised. Despite the dread in her eyes, she radiated the undeniable aura of a true prodigy.

Arion and Kara stepped out a second later, standing quietly behind her.

GROAAAN.

The heavy iron gates slowly parted, revealing the sprawling, warded lion's den inside.

"Let's go," Sophia whispered, her voice completely devoid of any laziness. "Time to see an old friend."