Chương 115: CHAPTER 113: THE WALL OF CRESTS

The vast central courtyard of the Royal Academy remained frozen under the radiant, multi-colored light of fifteen floating noble crests. The morning air, normally crisp and scented with damp stone, had turned dense with raw, competing magical signatures. Commander Leon's raised broadsword stayed pinned mid-air, the thick layer of vibrating kinetic mana humming against his heavy iron gauntlets with a low, predatory buzz. Behind him, the twenty-four armored Vanguard legionnaires stood completely rooted in place.

Their heavy steel boots were locked tight against the courtyard gravel, their black plate armor casting long, rigid shadows across the white stone steps. The bladed tips of their kinetic halberds remained leveled at waist height, charged with unstable blue shockwave energy, yet not a single soldier dared to thrust forward. Striking an ordinary civilian or an unregistered commoner guest tutor was a simple academic enforcement action. The Regency Council could easily bury the paperwork beneath administrative decrees.

However, cutting down fifteen direct heirs bearing active ducal, treasury, and frontier bloodline sigils was an entirely different reality. It was an immediate, irreversible declaration of war against the Imperial Senate and the founding houses of the realm. The glowing crimson lion of the High Marshal's house burned intensely above Valerius's head, radiating waves of dry, blistering heat that cast deep red shadows across the white marble balustrades.

To his left, Cassian's golden wheat-and-shield crest spun with heavy, grounded defensive mana, creating a shimmering barrier of solid golden light. To the right, Lady Lyra's crystalline silver vault sigil gleamed with razor-sharp brilliance, illuminating the grand marble pillars behind them in pristine white luminescence. Around them, the remaining twelve heirs stood shoulder to shoulder in an unbroken line.

Their raised fists channeled continuous streams of ancestral mana into the morning sky, locking their family crests into an interlocking canopy of pure aristocratic authority. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. The sheer spiritual and political weight of the combined bloodline crests pressed downward on the advancing Vanguard ranks like a physical wall of iron, forcing the front line of seasoned shock troops to take half a step back.

Before stepping forward to speak, Valerius reached into the inner pocket of his tailored academy coat and drew out a slender, polished silver flask. GULP. He unscrewed the cap and took a swift, deep swig of chilled, bitter tonic water. The sharp, herbal bite and icy carbonation rushed down his throat, clearing the dry, metallic taste of tension from his mouth and steadying his racing adrenaline before facing the terrifying Vanguard commander head-on.

Valerius stepped down to the second tier of the central stairs, his posture rigid, tall, and dignified.

"You stand on dangerous ground, Commander Leon," Valerius stated, his voice steady, aristocratic, and venomously calm.

"The House of Ignis holds direct command over three southern border garrisons. The House of Aurelius controls the state granaries and imperial logistics. The House of Vane oversees the capital's treasury audits and military appropriations. If you take one more step toward Professor Shin's laboratory, our families will convene an emergency tribunal before the evening bells toll." The Vanguard soldiers shifted uncomfortably behind their commander, their black armor plates clinking in the cold morning draft.

From the top of the grand marble terrace, Chancellor Thorne and the academy elders watched in absolute, stunned silence. Junior instructors and senior mages peered out from the second-floor colonnades, utterly bewildered by the spectacle unfolding below. The noble faction—a group of elite students infamous across the capital for their arrogant pride, petty bloodline rivalries, and fierce internal feuds—had formed a single, impenetrable shield around an unranked, unregistered commoner tutor.

Shin stood calmly on the top landing, his coat fluttering lightly in the wind, observing the confrontation without a single flicker of panic. Inside his mind, Rudra watched the interlocking magical signatures with quiet amusement. Pura political system ek laboratory ke samne khada kar diya. (They stood the entire political system right in front of a single laboratory.) Commander Leon's jaw clenched tightly.

The thick veins in his neck bulged against his dark steel collar as his cold, bloodshot eyes scanned the wall of floating sigils. Instead of sheathing his weapon, Leon's face twisted into a vicious, mocking sneer. Commander Leon lowered his broadsword by an inch, aiming the vibrating tip directly at the center of the flaming lion crest.

"Play your childish family games in the Senate, boy," Leon snarled, his voice booming across the courtyard with brutal authority.

"Your titles, your lineages, and your gold mean nothing here today. No noble bloodline in this empire holds jurisdiction over an Imperial Regency treason decree!"