Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 1188: Are you sure about that (2)

”You are not a mage.”

”Really?” Are you guys sure about that?”

The words did not vanish when Lucavion finished speaking.

They settled over the lecture hall with the weight of a challenge, slipping between the descending rows and coming to rest on every notation crystal, every half-raised hand and every face turned toward him. For a moment, no one seemed willing to decide whether he had answered the accusation or merely mocked it.

A few students exchanged uncertain glances. Others frowned, searching his expression for the hesitation that should have followed such a claim. There was none. Lucavion stood in the center of their attention with the same faint amusement, as though the question had been asked in earnest and his answer should have been sufficient.

The silence stretched.

It was not the silence of agreement. It was the strained pause before a room chose whether to laugh, object or demand proof. The nearest students leaned forward, their disbelief gathering into another wave of voices. One mouth opened. Then another.

The lecturer watched that wave form.

Only when the first breath of a reply reached the front row did he decide that the students had been given enough time to reveal where their certainty ended and their ignorance began.

*—**TAK! *

*—*TAK!

He struck two knuckles against the lectern.

Before the nearest student could answer Lucavion, a pale ring formed beneath the lecturer’s hand and swept across the descending rows. Every notation crystal dimmed. The murmurs caught against the hall’s acoustic formation and vanished, leaving the room abruptly attentive.

”Enough.”

The word carried no mana. It did not require any.

Only a few breaths had passed since Lucavion entered. The lecturer had allowed the first objections to expose the obvious source of confusion while he examined the late arrival for himself. That tolerance ended once the students began treating their assumptions as a verdict.

”Whether he belongs in this course will be determined by the attendance record, not by a vote.” He held out one hand. ”Your Academy card.”

Lucavion’s gaze passed once over the silenced rows. The faint amusement remained, but he offered no final provocation before approaching the lectern and placing his card into the lecturer’s palm.

”Valid enrollment will not excuse your lateness.”

”I figured it wouldn’t.”

”Cause?”

”The nearest connector read my course, saw my Primary Block and changed its mind.” Lucavion nodded toward the corridor behind him. ”The public route took longer.”

The lecturer accepted the explanation with no more than a brief look. ”You will confirm your access route before the next session.”

”Fair enough.”

He pressed Lucavion’s card against the attendance plate.

Blue light travelled over its surface before the first record appeared.

[STUDENT: LUCAVION]

[PRIMARY BLOCK: MARTIAL ARTS]

[STANDARD CURRICULUM: MARTIAL ARTS — ACTIVE]

[CROSS-SECTOR ARRIVAL: AFTER FINAL BELL]

A subtle confidence returned to several faces. The record appeared to confirm everything they had argued: Lucavion belonged to the Martial Arts Block, followed its curriculum and had entered a Magicians’ lecture after instruction began.

Yet Lucavion did not look toward them.

He watched the attendance plate with the relaxed patience of someone waiting for it to catch up.

Elara recognized that expression. She had seen it whenever he allowed another person to assemble a conclusion from incomplete evidence, secure in the knowledge that one remaining fact would alter its shape.

The lecturer touched the course field.

A second layer unfolded beneath the Martial record.

[ARCANE STRUCTURAL THEORY]

[ENROLLMENT STATUS: ACTIVE]

[PARTICIPATION: FULL COURSE]

The hall remained silent, though its certainty did not.

The lecturer paused. His expression hardly changed, but he read the authorization twice before opening its details. Lucavion had not been admitted as an observer, nor granted occasional access to course materials. Arcane Structural Theory belonged to his formal schedule, carrying the same attendance and evaluation requirements as it did for every Magicians’ student in the room.

Elara’s thoughts returned to his unexplained visits to Student Affairs.

He had not been requesting permission to enter a library, use a practice chamber or continue their private lessons with institutional approval. While she had been teaching him the foundations of structured magic, Lucavion had been arranging a place within the Academy’s formal magical curriculum.

The lecturer pressed the final sealed field.

Another authorization layer began opening across the plate, its heading appearing first while the contents gathered beneath it.

[FACULTY SPONSORSHIP RECORD]

The contents resolved beneath the heading.

[FACULTY SPONSOR: MAGISTER SELENNE]

[CROSS-BLOCK AUTHORIZATION: CONFIRMED]

For several seconds, the only movement in the hall came from the pale light travelling around Selenne’s authenticated seal.

The students who had objected most loudly did not withdraw their expressions so much as lose confidence in what those expressions were meant to convey. Displeasure remained. So did suspicion. Neither could alter the name displayed above the attendance plate.

Selphine leaned forward slightly beside Elara, the amusement surrounding her earlier reaction replaced by sharper interest. Elsewhere, students exchanged quieter looks as recognition spread through the tiers. Some knew Selenne through reputation, others through the examinations, but enough understood what faculty sponsorship required for the remainder to follow their silence.

A sponsor’s name was not a ceremonial recommendation attached to a promising student. It recorded that a qualified member of the Academy had examined an irregular enrollment, judged the applicant capable of surviving its demands and accepted professional responsibility for allowing the exception. If the student failed through laziness, the disgrace belonged primarily to him. If the faculty discovered that he had never possessed the qualifications to enter, questions would reach the person whose seal had opened the course.

Magister Selenne had placed her judgment where everyone could examine it.

Elara looked from the authorization record to Lucavion.

He had not glanced toward the students whose certainty had carried the previous argument. There was no triumph in his posture now that the answer had appeared, only the same patience with which he had waited for the attendance plate to reveal it. That restraint irritated Elara more than open satisfaction might have done. Lucavion had permitted the room to declare that he could not be a mage while knowing that Selenne’s name waited beneath the next layer.

’Of course he did.’

Her thoughts returned to every unfinished explanation surrounding Student Affairs. She had assumed he was seeking limited permission to use magical facilities, perhaps accompanied by special conditions imposed because of his Primary Block. Even after recognizing the correct introductory text beneath his arm, she had not imagined an arrangement carrying this much authority.

Formal enrollment was already more than she expected.

Selenne’s sponsorship changed its meaning entirely.

The Magister did not need Lucavion’s family name, political usefulness or inherited magical tradition. He possessed none worth considering. Whatever reason had persuaded her belonged to his results, his irregular mana or something she had observed when everyone else was still deciding whether those irregularities represented talent or accident.

Elara could not tell which.

That absence bothered her. She had spent enough time correcting Lucavion’s formations to know both how little formal knowledge he possessed and how quickly he stopped making the same mistake once its structure became clear. Selenne must have recognized some version of that contradiction before placing her seal beneath it.

The lecturer expanded the authentication mark and examined the signature embedded within. Three concentric formations separated, displaying the Academy registry, the course approval and Selenne’s personal faculty seal without a broken line among them.

The student near the front who had first challenged Lucavion settled back into his seat.

His objection had not become unreasonable merely because the record opposed it. A Martial student attending Arcane Structural Theory remained extraordinary. The difference was that the extraordinary thing had been examined by someone whose authority exceeded his certainty.

Elara understood then that Lucavion had not slipped through a weakness in the boundary between the Blocks.

Someone on the other side had opened it for him.

The lecturer allowed the final seal to remain visible only long enough to complete its authentication. Once the registry confirmed that nothing had been altered, he closed the authorization layers in reverse order and removed Lucavion’s Academy card from the plate.

”Your enrollment is valid.”

Lucavion accepted the card with a slight inclination of his head. ”Good to know.”

The lecturer looked beyond him toward the students whose objections had filled the hall moments earlier.

”There is no mistake.”

The conclusion settled more effectively than any rebuke.

No one appeared pleased. The Martial uniform remained out of place among the formation instruments, and Selenne’s seal had done nothing to erase the resentment already directed toward its wearer. Yet the original accusation had lost its foundation. Lucavion had not wandered into the wrong hall, slipped through an administrative oversight or assumed that his reputation granted him access.

The Academy had admitted him deliberately.

”But why would Magister Selenne—”

”Magister Selenne’s judgment is not the subject of this lecture,” the lecturer interrupted. He returned Lucavion’s card and closed the attendance display. ”If you wish to challenge a faculty authorization, Student Affairs accepts petitions after the third bell.”

The student who had begun the question fell silent.

The lecturer then turned back to Lucavion. ”Your authorization does not alter the attendance record. You arrived after instruction began.”

”I know.”

”Take the nearest available seat. Confirm your route before the next lecture.”

Lucavion glanced across the tiers.

The empty place beside Elara was not the only seat remaining, though it was the nearest one that did not require him to cross the entire hall. That supplied a perfectly reasonable explanation for his choice.

Elara distrusted reasonable explanations whenever Lucavion benefited from them.

He climbed the shallow steps beneath an attention that had changed without diminishing. Some students followed him with open resentment, unwilling to accept his presence merely because they could no longer dispute it. Others appeared more curious than hostile now that Selenne’s name had replaced administrative error as the central question. A few had become cautious, reconsidering whatever they thought they understood about his magical examination results.

Lucavion ignored all three responses.

He reached Elara’s row and took the seat to her right without asking whether she wished it occupied. After setting his introductory text upon the desk, he adjusted the narrow sheath at his side so it would not strike the bench.

On Elara’s left, Selphine leaned back just enough to look across her.

The restrained amusement in her eyes was unbearable.

Elara now sat between the person most capable of noticing an involuntary reaction and the person most likely to provoke one deliberately. Neither appeared troubled by the arrangement.

She waited until Lucavion opened his text before lowering her voice. ”You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?”

”The enrollment?” He glanced at her, all mild innocence. ”That part usually requires planning.”

”You know what I mean.”

”I really don’t.” His gaze moved toward the lecturer preparing to resume. ”But if you explain it now, you’ll be the one holding up the class.”

Elara looked at him.

The faint curve of his mouth remained carefully short of a smirk.

Before she could produce a reply quiet enough to avoid proving his point, the lecturer touched the control formation. Light returned to every notation crystal, cutting off the remaining whispers as the sponsorship record faded from above the lectern.

”The first distinction,” he resumed, ”is between a structure that remains stable and one that merely delays its failure.”

Luminous channels unfolded across the demonstration plate, their pattern projecting above the hall while students lowered their attention toward waiting notes.

The class settled imperfectly. Curiosity remained in the occasional glance directed toward Lucavion, but no one challenged his place again.

At Elara’s right, he opened his text and lowered his pen to the page.

Lucavion’s first formal Magicians’ lesson began.