The pursuit of Daemon by the newly appointed Lord Constable, Duke Steiner, was never going to be a simple affair. Even with the Kaiser's implicit backing, taking a student into custody—especially one as notoriously talented and politically sensitive as Daemon—was easier said than done. The Imperial Magic Academy, while subservient to the crown, operated under a stringent, semi-autonomous charter. Its students were not merely subjects; they were designated state assets, and their intellectual property was fiercely protected.
Before the Lord Constable could seize any student, he was required to provide meticulous documentation to the Chancellor of the Academy, detailing the nature of the inquiry and the alleged charges. This procedure, designed to prevent the nobility from using the Academy for petty vendettas, ensured proper Imperial documentation and preserved the academic institution's control over its valuable resources.
This necessary procedure immediately resulted in intense friction between Steiner and the Academy's top administrator, Chancellor Altdorf. The two powerful men could not meet in person due to the distances and demands of their offices. Their tense deliberation took place within a secured, dedicated psychic link, mediated by a highly specialized Imperial Telepath. The shared mental space was vast, cold, and dominated by the clashing, unyielding priorities of the two leaders.
Chancellor Altdorf, whose will was rumored to be as hard and unyielding as the granite of the Academy itself, was utterly disinterested in Steiner's pursuit of personal vengeance. Altdorf was focused squarely on the unsettling technical anomalies discovered in the Insbruck mission—anomalies that threatened to expose weaknesses in the Academy's magical theory.
"Lord Constable, your pursuit of this commoner is understandable, given the history you share with his recent actions," Altdorf's voice resonated in the shared psychic space, frigid and precise, carrying the absolute weight of academic authority. "But my core concern, and indeed the Kaiser's primary concern, must be the integrity of the Academy's assets. This boy, Daemon, has demonstrated mastery over a fire affinity that defies all known thermodynamic principles taught in any of our institutions. How does he maintain that incandescent temperature without deforming or melting the blade, regardless of its composition? What precise combination of materials and runes allowed for this sustained intensity? Those findings are not fodder for a private inquiry, Steiner. They are Imperial secrets now, and the Academy must secure them for immediate research and replication."
Duke Steiner, projecting an aura of cold fury and overwhelming ambition into the psychic link, cared nothing for the nuances of the blade's alloy. His concern was fixed on political leverage, military advantage, and, most satisfyingly, the destruction of Daemon.
"Chancellor, with respect, your blade is a mere academic curiosity," Steiner countered, his psychic projection hard and accusatory. "My concern is the untraceable, bright-hot explosion that the Telepath confirmed possesses no magical signature. That is a strategic, existential threat to the very foundations of Aetheric warfare! Think of the ramifications, Chancellor! If this commoner has found a way to level fortifications instantly without expending a single unit of mana—by using only base elements—he has rendered our entire defensive infrastructure obsolete!"
Steiner pressed his advantage, his motives neatly cloaked in duty. "If he possesses that knowledge, the Kaiser must possess it, and the perpetrator must be immediately contained and stripped of all information. I need the boy delivered to my jurisdiction for full, unrestricted interrogation regarding the origins of this non-Aetheric formula."
The conflict was clearly defined: the Chancellor demanded the methodology and materials of the blade, viewing them as irreplaceable academic property that must be secured by the Academy; the Constable demanded the chemical weapons formula, viewing them as paramount military and strategic property, with Daemon's swift, painful psychological destruction being the necessary incentive for his cooperation.
They negotiated in the silent, tense psychic space for nearly an hour, their wills clashing over ownership of the knowledge. They eventually came to a grudging agreement: the gravity of the investigation warranted immediate action, but the interrogation would take place within a secured, neutral facility on the Academy grounds. This compromise ensured the Chancellor's authority over the intellectual property was maintained, while giving Steiner the direct access he craved. The documents were finalized, witnessed by the Telepath, and prepared for official execution.
Unaware of the high-stakes political battle being fought over his mind and body, Daemon was in his secured apartment, dedicating a precious hour to training his Healing Affinity. He was currently engaged in the highly difficult challenge of attempting to heal an injury without physical contact, pushing his Aetheric projection and somatic tissue control to an unprecedented level of precision and range. The subtle, draining focus demanded his absolute concentration.
It was during this silent, intense focus that a sharp, official knock sounded on his door. It was singular, forceful, and utterly devoid of the casual politeness of a fellow student.
Daemon immediately ceased his training, his concentration snapping instantly to the threat. He knew this wasn't Jonas or Helga. He opened the door to find a small group of Academy Guards—professional enforcement mages wearing the standard black and gold uniform—standing outside.
The lead guard, a tall man whose expression was purely professional and distant, delivered the order without preamble, his voice dry and official. "Student Daemon, you are to immediately prepare yourself and follow us. The Chancellor has requested your immediate, personal presence for an urgent inquiry."
Daemon betrayed no flicker of emotion. He had been waiting for this inevitable Imperial reaction, knowing that the scale of the Insbruck mission could not be ignored. He calmly retrieved his jacket, shrugged it on, and then, as a matter of habit, buckled the single Chokuto blade to his back.
He stepped out of his apartment, ready to follow the guards. The lead guard immediately stretched out a gloved hand, palm up, issuing the final, non-negotiable directive.
"The weapon. Protocol dictates all students must surrender lethal artifacts for the duration of a formal Chancellor proceeding."
Daemon did not resist. He felt the cold truth of his situation: he was a unique asset, but ultimately a commoner student under the absolute jurisdiction of powers far greater than himself. With quiet, unsettling resignation, he unbuckled the blade and placed the Chokuto—the unique, white-hot weapon that had defined his rise and attracted the investigation—into the guard's waiting, reinforced container. The guard, looking slightly overwhelmed by the responsibility of handling such a notorious artifact, quickly sealed it.
Daemon followed the guards quietly, his hands empty, his face utterly placid. His mind, however, was already calculating the dynamics of the trap laid for him by the divided interests of the Chancellor and the vengeful Duke Steiner. His interrogation had begun the moment the knock sounded.