CHAPTER 77— Morality(2)
Rowan, Ritvik, and Sarina walked in silence across the sweeping academy grounds, having finally put a safe distance between themselves and the Sanctum clubroom.
None of them spoke, but the air between them was thick, vibrating with the heavy aftershocks of the confrontation.
Disappointment and lingering sadness weighed heavily on Rowan's face. Contrary to his expectations, Ashwin hadn't been shaken or convinced; instead, he had roared back with a harsh, unyielding reality that left Rowan entirely defenseless.
Ritvik walked slightly behind him, still wearing the lingering paleness of panic, though a quiet sense of relief washed over him now that they were out of the danger zone.
"Something still bothering you?" Sarina asked, abruptly stopping and looking back over her shoulder.
Rowan flinched at the sudden question. How many times had she asked him that exact same thing over the past few days? He simply shook his head, staring at the dirt path.
"Nothing."
Sarina halted completely. Without another word, Ritvik and Rowan stopped in their tracks as well.
In a flash of movement, Sarina closed the distance and grabbed Rowan firmly by the collar of his uniform.
"Hey. Listen to me. Don't give me that 'nothing' nonsense," Sarina snapped, her eyes narrowing with fierce intensity. "If something is eating you up inside, you spell it out."
Rowan blinked, entirely stunned by the sudden shift in her tone.
"How hard is that, huh?" Sarina continued, her voice sharp. "Don't go marching off to pick fights with people you can't possibly beat just because your mind is a mess. Just speak!"
Ritvik watched the exchange unfold, his eyes darting frantically between Sarina and Rowan like a spectator at a tense tennis match. A fresh sheen of sweat broke out across his forehead.
Rowan stared into her unblinking, dark eyes. He couldn't tell if she was furious, angry, or deeply concerned—her gaze was an unreadable fortress. Perhaps it was precisely that ambiguity that finally broke his resolve.
"I... I went there to talk to him about the mana core of that guy we fought on Rune Island."
Sarina's grip on his collar loosened ever so slightly, her eyes silently urging him to continue.
"When I heard he actually submitted that guy's core, I just... couldn't accept it. It didn't sit right with me. So I wanted to confront him."
"Why?" Sarina asked quietly.
"Because..." Rowan faltered, looking down at his boots. "Isn't that wrong?"
Sarina's grip tightened, then immediately went slack. Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Why do you think it's wrong?"
Rowan finally averted his gaze from her, staring blankly at the ground.
"I... I can understand someone dying in the heat of battle. I really can. But ripping out a dead man's core—harvesting him even after he's gone, just because he was an enemy? that's just twisted?"
Sarina looked at him, her sharp expression softening into something
uncharacteristically gentle. She blinked once, looking away for a brief second as if sorting through a maze of difficult thoughts.
"Why concern yourself with something like that?" she asked, her voice dropping to a softer register.
For a second, even Rowan was caught off guard by her gentleness. He looked back up, his voice tinged with frustration. "Because I can't just watch something like that happen and act like it's nothing!"
He turned his head away, his hands balling into fists. "Maybe you don't understand, but it's haunted me ever since I left Rune Island. Every single night when I try to sleep, I get nightmares of that cave. I see Ashwin tearing that guy's core out... and somehow, because I was there, I feel like I'm a part of it. That's why I had to say something to him."
"And what happened?" Sarina prompted softly.
Rowan rubbed his temples, a bitter smile touching his lips.
"He exploded. He started yelling about wars, blood, and the real world. I mean... how much effort does it take to show basic decency to the dead? Instead of letting him rest, he just... stripped him bare."
He looked back at Sarina, whose eyes were wide and filled with a quiet, lingering empathy.
Rowan lowered his head once more, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I just don't like it."
A heavy, suffocating silence descended upon them. No one moved. No one dared to break the stillness, as if a single wrong word might shatter the fragile atmosphere.
Pat.
A hand gently landed on Rowan's shoulder.
He turned his head to find Ritvik standing beside him. The boy gave a slow, solemn nod, finally breaking the quiet.
"I understand how you feel,Rowan... I really do."
Rowan felt a momentary flash of comfort at Ritvik's words, letting out a heavy breath. But the next instant, Ritvik delivered a sentiment Rowan entirely failed to anticipate.
"But you see... no matter how passionately you argue, or how righteous your words are, you'll never convince Ashwin that he did something wrong."
Rowan stared at him, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you taking his side?"
"No, no, absolutely not!" Ritvik stammered, frantically waving his hands before shoving them back into his pockets. "I'm just being realistic."
He took a steadying breath. "People like Ashwin—who reach the rank of Spellmaster at such a young age—they live in a completely different world than guys like us."
"Ashwin is from a different world?"
"Not literally! What I mean is, they're raised in environments we can't even imagine. To them, things that look monstrous to us are probably just another Tuesday walk in the park."
"But still—" Rowan tried to protest.
"He's right, Rowan," Sarina interrupted, her voice cutting cleanly through his argument.
"This is simply how the world operates. People grow to mirror the harshness of their surroundings. For most of us, our sense of morality is shaped entirely by the place we call home."
Sarina looked down at her own hand, slowly clenching her fingers into a tight fist.
"And then, one day, we're pulled out of those safe environments and thrown into a wider world. That's when our old beliefs inevitably clash with harsh new realities."
She lifted her head, locking eyes directly with Rowan, seeing the fierce internal war waging between his past innocence and the brutal truths of Aetheria.
Slowly, deliberately, she stepped closer and placed a flat hand against his chest, right over his racing heart.
"I don't know what kind of peaceful place you came from, Rowan. But this new environment might feel cruel... it might break you down," she murmured, before gently withdrawing her hand. "But eventually... you'll adapt."
She turned slightly away, her expression hidden from view. "Because that is human nature. We always bend to fit the shape of whatever world we're handed."
Rowan stared at her back, unable to read her face. He dropped his chin, his voice hollow.
"I don't know... Back when I was training at the dojo, my master was a lazy, sleepy drunkard. Most of the time, he cared more about his wine than teaching lessons. He always had messy hair and a perpetual hangover. Looking at him, I could never understand how someone like him can be a mage."
Ritvik and Sarina turned back to look at him as Rowan stared blankly at the stones beneath his feet, lost in old memories.
"At first, I thought mages were supposed to be righteous, virtuous and more then that Noble, And when I first saw Ashwin, I thought, Yes, that's what a mage should look like. Fearless, powerful, and majestic. But after what he did on Rune Island..."
Rowan's hand instinctively rose to cover his mouth, his voice trembling.
"I honestly don't know what a mage is supposed to look like anymore."
He looked up at Sarina, his eyes glassy, practically begging for an answer he knew she couldn't easily give.
Sarina stared back at him, her gaze soft, but utterly devoid of an easy fix. She doesn't have any comforting illusion to offer.
Tap.
Suddenly, another hand rested on Rowan's shoulder. Adjusting his glasses with a surprisingly steady hand, Ritvik offered a faint, reassuring smile.
"Rowan."
"...?"
"A mage doesn't become noble because of their appearance."
"..."
"They become Nobel because of their actions."
Sarina and Rowan both blinked, staring at Ritvik in sudden, stunned silence.
Ritvik raised a finger, puffing out his chest with mock dignity.
"I sounded so cool just now. Didn't I?"
"Yeah. You should seriously consider dropping out and becoming a village philosopher," Sarina deadpanned.
A quiet, much-needed chuckle broke the heavy tension, diffusing the suffocating air between them.
"Go on back to your room and get some real rest, Rowan," Sarina said softly, lowering her hand. "Stop torturing your mind over things completely outside your control."
Rowan lowered his eyes. A small, bittersweet smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though his eyes still held the quiet weight of a storm that had only just begun.
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CHAPTER ENDS