The commander of the Cuckoo Knights returned to the barracks, his worries weighing heavily on his mind.
On the third floor of the academy, however, Sellen sat beneath a lamp, fully absorbed in her reading, as though the chaos and unrest outside had nothing to do with her at all.
It wasn't that she was indifferent to her apprentice's life or death, nor was she panicking like the other Sorcerers.
That simply wasn't her way.
If Nolan had proposed researching primeval magic together, she would have calmly explained the immense risks beforehand. And if he still insisted on going through with it despite her warnings, she would have accepted being turned into a ball by her own apprentice without resentment, even congratulating him on finally becoming a proper Sorcerer.
But this time was different.
Nolan's actions were entirely for her sake.
She had tried to stop him more than once, but now that it had happened, there was no undoing it.
As if the noise outside had finally reached her, the speed at which she flipped through the pages grew faster and faster, until she snapped the book shut in irritation.
"That idiot of an apprentice," she muttered. "Those few runes… how could they ever buy a life?"
She pushed herself up from the table, her expression dark and unsettled. The hesitation lasted only a heartbeat.
Sellen pulled on her hood, picked up her staff, and moved to leave, but the very next moment, she sat back down again.
Her hand rested on the doorknob as clarity returned.
Drawing the magic professors out now would only lead straight into a dead end.
...
Scorching heat seeped in through the cracks of the door, while Nolan lay in wait at a bend in the corridor.
At this moment, he had no spare thoughts for his teacher's worries. His mind was entirely focused on how to achieve his objective.
Master Azur. Master Lusat. Couldn't the two of you have made things easier for once?
If you'd just handed the materials to Sellen back then, or simply destroyed them, none of this would be necessary.
It had to be said, the academy's professors cherished knowledge to an almost absurd degree. Otherwise, their research wouldn't have survived to this day.
Nolan's gaze was locked onto the turning of the door lock. With a low creak, a towering figure slowly stepped out.
The man was enormous, well over two meters tall, the very definition of a boss-sized build.
That said, Nolan himself wasn't much smaller.
In this life, he was practically a native of the Lands Between. With the Haligtree feeding and nurturing him, there was no chance of him ending up underdeveloped.
As the associate professor emerged, his lofty Karolos hood still sat well below the top of the doorway. Compared to the frame, even his powerful build seemed almost modest.
Maybe these buildings had all been designed with Rennala's stature in mind.
The associate professor's massive feet planted firmly on the ground as he stared toward the distant flames, momentarily stunned.
"What in the world is going on?" Geralt muttered, puzzled, before striding forward and craning his neck to look.
The glintstone lamps lining the corridor were dim, and thick smoke drifted in from the open courtyard.
The heavy stench of burning filled his nose, making him cough softly twice.
Now!
Nolan's figure burst into view in midair.
His body spun sharply, Claymore whistling through the air as he brought it straight down toward Geralt's skull.
But at the very last moment, a massive hand shot out and yanked hard.
Geralt's body twisted violently to the right.
Splurt!
The Claymore punched straight through his arm. In the same instant, the Sorcerer's left hand was severed at the forearm and fell heavily to the floor.
But in the next instant, a dazzling blue light flared on the right, releasing scorching energy that surged straight toward Nolan.
The greatsword halted mid-fall. Without hesitation, Nolan swung it sideways, smashing the incoming magic shard away with brute force.
The shard slammed into the wall, carving out a deep gouge.
Nolan turned his head and caught sight of the Olivinus Conspectus hood.
As expected of an associate professor. Even if he wasn't a battlefield Sorcerer like those from the Haima Conspectus, his reaction speed was still frighteningly fast.
Nolan narrowed his eyes, already calculating his next move, his grip tightening as he prepared to twist the hilt and smash Geralt's skull to pieces.
Then, suddenly, a flash of light cut across his vision.
"Banished Knight, how did you get in here?"
Geralt lay on the ground, still howling in pain, while Roman had already raised his staff again, his voice filled with both suspicion and alertness.
Swift Glintstone Shard!
A spell built purely for speed. In Roman's hands, it linked seamlessly with Glintstone Pebble, without the slightest pause.
Facing such a rapid assault, Nolan shifted his footing and retreated sharply.
The magic shards pursued relentlessly, slamming into the floor and sending dust and shattered stone spraying into the air.
His back crashed hard into the wall, knocking several oil paintings loose as they fell from their hooks.
Before they even hit the ground, another shard roared toward him like a cannonball.
Nolan reacted instantly, dropping into a crouch.
Boom!
This impact was deeper, heavier, carrying terrifying force.
The massive shard skimmed past the top of his helmet and tore straight through the wall, blasting out a deep crater.
Using the shockwave from the impact, Nolan pressed himself low and rolled forward at extreme speed.
His movements were sharp and fluid, like a seasoned assassin. Even clad in heavy armor, his mobility wasn't hindered in the slightest.
These two Sorcerers might have filthy mouths, but their mastery of magic was no joke.
Even low-tier spells became terrifying weapons in their hands.
Nolan dropped into a half-crouch and rolled his wrist. A crisp crack rang out from his joints, as though his body were waking itself up.
He had no idea that the nickname "Bluntstone" had originated from these two. All he knew was that they were standing in his way.
Looking up again, he saw the Karolos associate professor struggling to prop himself upright.
The left side of his body was soaked in fresh blood, yet he still seemed capable of enduring that level of pain.
Beneath the glintstone hood, his face was twisted with agony and fury.
If he couldn't find something like a Flask of Crimson Tears afterward, that arm would be ruined for good. His research efficiency would plummet.
That homeless drifter… what an absolute bastard!
The Karolos associate professor ground his teeth, savage light flashing in his eyes.
The three locked eyes. None of them expected answers, and no one bothered asking pointless questions anymore.
As another drop of blood splattered and bloomed across the cold floor, the Sorcerers moved at once.
They tightened their grips on their staffs, while Nolan swiftly switched his greatsword to his other hand and drew a second Banished Knight Greatsword from his back.
He rose lightly onto his toes, then shot forward like an arrow released from the string.
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh!
Streaks of light tore through the air with piercing shrieks.
Geralt glanced at Roman, a flash of ruthless resolve in his eyes. Ignoring the agony in his arm, he raised his staff without hesitation.
A comet trailing a long, blazing tail burst forth.
Glintstone Stars!
Glintstone Cometshard!