Under the Dean’s urgent summons, the Council Hall of Mills Academy blazed with light.
Not only had all the upper management assembled in full, but a great number of local nobles, having heard the news, had crowded into the hall that should have been solemn and stately, filling it to bursting, uneasy whispers thick in the air.
The Dean did not drive them away.
Some of the higher-ups, not knowing what had happened, looked at each other in confusion and then asked, “Dean, what is it that required us here so late?”
The Dean cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the silence with particular clarity.
“Everyone must have sensed the explosion just now. Since the Saintess herself has come here, that means the culprit is among you. Whoever did it, step forward at once.”
His sharp gaze swept across the hall.
“If you confess now, the punishment might be lighter. But if we find out later… hmph, don’t blame me for being ruthless!”
What? The culprit behind the explosion was actually among them?
Many of Mills Academy’s higher-ups were shocked in their hearts, their faces changing abruptly as they exchanged startled, suspicious glances.
Those who had once harbored hostility toward the Rose Knights instinctively averted their eyes.
But the Vice Dean was different. With his hands clasped behind his back, he stood calm and unconcerned, as if he had a clear conscience and did not fear ghosts knocking at his door.
As the Dean questioned them, dead silence fell all around. No one stepped forward to admit guilt.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, the Dean looked to Isavel and said, “Saintess, no one is confessing. Do you have any means to determine who the culprit is?”
As his words fell, all eyes turned to Isavel.
Those nobles were not here for nothing—they had been specially summoned by the Dean.
If this Saintess came to Mills Academy seeking accountability but couldn’t even identify the perpetrator, by the next day, the story would appear in the Mills City papers as the Headlines.
Unreasonable troublemaking, abusing power… if such an image stuck, the reputation of the Oracle Maiden would surely suffer.
Isavel of course saw through the Dean’s little scheme. The corner of her lips curled up, and she said coolly, “Bring the man forward.”
Amidst the Dean’s bewildered gaze, Renia dragged a raggedly dressed man into everyone’s sight.
When the crowd saw the man’s face, a series of sharp gasps sounded, and the Vice Dean’s pupils constricted sharply from where he hid in the shadows.
It was actually Anderi!
After he was brought forward, Renia kicked Anderi, forcing him to kneel before Isavel.
“Speak. Who ordered you to do this?”
Isavel’s voice was especially cold.
The Vice Dean’s heart skipped a beat, and he subconsciously took two steps back.
No matter how he thought about it, he couldn’t understand how this useless pawn had been exposed so quickly.
Just a secret trip to the Magic Equipment Shop, planting explosion magic inside the Flame Gem—so long as no one had intentionally followed him, there was no way he’d be found out this fast…
“Hahaha!”
Anderi suddenly broke into crazed laughter, his wild hair parting to reveal bloodshot eyes.
“Saintess, you’re too naive. Since I’ve been found out doing such a thing, there’s no way out for me. Now you want to force a man doomed to die to spill secrets?”
Isavel crossed her arms, looking down at him with a smile.
“Naive? Anderi, sometimes living is more painful than dying.”
“Is that so? Then go ahead, torture me all you want. My only regret now is that I didn’t blow up those bastards! I don’t believe you have any way to break me!”
Torture the prisoner?!
The Vice Dean let out a sigh of relief.
Such things, even the Imperial Army rarely did openly. For an Oracle Maiden to do such a thing was simply…
“Ah—!”
Anderi’s miserable scream interrupted the Vice Dean’s thoughts.
Watching that figure writhing in agony within holy light, the Vice Dean shuddered, his face growing ever paler.
Wasn’t the Oracle Maiden supposed to be gentle and kind?
To torture a prisoner without hesitation—could such a person really be called a Saintess?!
“Ah—!”
When Anderi still refused to speak, Isavel tapped her finger on his forehead again.
Terrifying magic swept through his entire body, the excruciating pain making him twist uncontrollably on the ground.
Sweat began to bead on the Dean’s forehead. The other Mills higher-ups now dared not even breathe, and the nobles who’d been called here already regretted coming.
After witnessing such a ruthless Oracle Maiden, they couldn’t shake the feeling that they might never leave this place…
“I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”
Anderi finally couldn’t hold out. After just over ten seconds, he broke down, wailing the truth.
“It was the Vice Dean! He ordered me to do it! He even said—he said he’d give me a chance to live afterwards! Please, please… spare me!”
At the mention of that name, all eyes turned toward the Vice Dean, whose back was instantly drenched in cold sweat, the expression on his face losing all control.
At first, terror flashed in his eyes, then it turned ferocious as he roared at Anderi:
“What nonsense are you spouting?! How could I possibly do anything to harm the Rose Knights?!”
Seeing that people didn’t seem to believe him, he screamed in desperation:
“Why are you all looking at me?! He’s slandering me! I’ve worked diligently for Mills Academy for so many years, and all my students are unfailingly polite. How could I possibly be the culprit in this affair?!”
His protestations made several colleagues nod slightly, and the doubtful gazes turned to Anderi.
“That’s right, the Vice Dean doesn’t look like a sinister person at all…”
“Anderi must be making this up. How could the Vice Dean do something like that?”
Hearing those around him speaking up for him, the Vice Dean unconsciously wiped his brow.
But just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he saw Isavel looking over with a smile.
Only her smile did not reach her eyes.
“I already gave you two chances. But it’s a shame—you still don’t know how to cherish them.”
“…Saintess, what—what are you saying? Everything that’s been said is just Anderi’s nonsense. How could I do something so insane?”
A sense of foreboding peaked within the Vice Dean, his voice beginning to tremble for no reason.
“Besides, what motive would I have? Why would I want to harm the Rose Knights?!”
“Motive?”
Isavel let out a light laugh and tapped the air with her fingertip.
“Isn’t the Academy Tournament reason enough? If you want to rise above the Rose Knights, you should at least consider whether you’re qualified.”
The Vice Dean tried to argue again, but in the next second, his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor, face ashen.
A Light Screen unfolded before everyone, clearly showing the Vice Dean in a dark alley secretly negotiating with Anderi.
His seductive whispers echoed in the silent Council Hall, each word like a heavy hammer smashing through his last defenses.
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