I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 632: Ask a Kaiser

”I’m aware of the requirements,” Rhys replied, his voice carrying absolute confidence.

”I’ve received several communications in the past week,” Aldwyn continued, his gaze tracking Rhys’s expression for signs of strain or doubt. ”This information originated from an undisclosed source.”

The headmaster opened a drawer in his desk and withdrew a letter. The parchment was high quality, sealed with wax that bore no identifying marks.

”The sender indicated that a patronage arrangement has been made on your behalf,” Aldwyn articulated. ”Academic support, material resources, and importantly, an interested party will be in attendance during the final rank advancement examinations. An alumni, according to the message. Someone with significant standing.”

Aldwyn set the letter on his desk, his eyes never leaving Rhys’s face.

”The letter also contained a warning. It stated that any interference with your participation in those examinations would result in... complications that the academy would prefer to avoid.”

Rhys’s jaw tightened fractionally, the only visible indication that the headmaster’s words had registered as something beyond simple information.

”The Kaiser family,” Aldwyn stated quietly, not as a question but as the conclusion he’d reached through deduction. ”That’s who sent this. That’s who’s backing you.”

Rhys met the headmaster’s gaze directly.

”Yes,” he confirmed.

Aldwyn leaned back in his chair, processing the implications of that single word.

”The last time a Kaiser walked these academy halls,” the headmaster said slowly, ”was Octavia Kaiser. The ice queen, they called her. She ran this institution like a military operation. No one could touch her. No one could challenge her. She graduated ranked first in her class and went on to become one of the most powerful mages in the human kingdoms.”

He leaned in, his face showing a mix of respect and concern.

”And now one of them is backing a half-blood elf who’s ambitious enough to attempt rank advancement in the remaining weeks of the academic year.”

”I’m aware,” Rhys replied, his voice steady.

”Are you?” Aldwyn asked, his tone sharpening. ”Because what you’ve accepted carries weight beyond academic standing. The Kaiser family doesn’t invest in individuals for sentimental reasons. They invest because they see value. They see potential. They see something worth leveraging toward their own purposes.”

Rhys didn’t respond immediately. The headmaster’s words had struck accurately at the core of something Rhys had deliberately avoided examining too closely.

”My father values strength above all else,” Rhys finally stated, his voice carrying the weight of fundamental truth. ”Return to the Elven throne as the undisputed strongest graduate from the world’s most prestigious magic academy, and he will be forced to acknowledge me. Not out of love... I’ve never harbored illusions about that, but out of the sheer necessity of having such a weapon in his arsenal.”

Aldwyn’s expression seemed to shift, perhaps towards pity, but the headmaster was adept at concealing such emotions, preventing them from becoming truly apparent.

”You believe rank one at this academy will overcome the stigma of your bloodline?” the headmaster asked, his tone suggesting the answer was obvious. Still, he needed to hear Rhys articulate the belief anyway.

”I believe strength is the only language the Elven courts respect,” Rhys replied. ”If I return to my father’s throne as the most powerful mage of my generation from the academy that produces the world’s elite, the question of my legitimacy becomes irrelevant. Power supersedes bloodline. It always has.”

Aldwyn rose from his chair and walked to the window that overlooked the academy grounds. From this height, the entire campus was visible.

Students are training, practicing, and pushing themselves toward excellence.

The headmaster’s gaze tracked across the scene, that of someone who’d watched countless students pass through this institution over the decades.

”The Kaiser family’s support comes with obligations,” Aldwyn stated, not as a question but as a simple acknowledgment of reality. ”Backing of that magnitude doesn’t exist without expectations of return.”

”I’m aware,” Rhys confirmed.

”And you’ve accepted those terms willingly,” Aldwyn continued, turning back to face the half-elf directly.

Rhys nodded once, the gesture communicating absolute certainty about the choices he’d made and the path he’d committed to.

Aldwyn returned to his desk and opened another drawer. He withdrew a different document.

An official academy parchment bearing the seal of the Elven Council and the signatures of high-level political authorities.

”There’s something you should know,” the headmaster said, his demeanor conveying a gravity beyond conventional academic discourse. ”Something that’s just arrived in my correspondence from the Elven Council.”

Rhys’s expression didn’t change, but his attention sharpened with the intensity of a predator recognizing real danger.

”The Council is aware of your ambitions regarding rank advancement,” Aldwyn commenced, each word resonating with the significance of the moment. ”They’ve sent a formal notification that you are prohibited from participating in the final rank advancement examinations. The official reasoning is ’insufficient documentation of capability’ and ’concerns regarding the legitimacy of external patronage.’ But we both know the real reason.”

The headmaster set the document on his desk, positioning it so the official seals were clearly visible.

”They’re afraid of you, Rhys. The Elven Council recognizes that an undisputed first rank at this academy would give you political leverage they cannot control or suppress. So they’ve acted preemptively to prevent it.”

The words hung in the office like a death sentence.

Rhys stood from his chair with slow, controlled movement, not indicating that the revelation had shaken him.

But Aldwyn, who’d spent decades observing young mages under pressure, could see the tension in the half-elf’s shoulders. The tightness at the corners of his mouth. The slight tremor in his hands before Rhys forced them to stillness.

”What are you telling me?” Rhys asked, his voice emerging with the careful precision of someone speaking through rage held under absolute control.

Aldwyn met his gaze directly.

”I’m telling you that the Elven Council has made its position clear. You will not be permitted to sit for the final rank advancement examinations. Any attempt to do so will result in your immediate expulsion from this academy and formal notification to the Elven throne regarding your ’insubordination’ and ’challenges to established authority.’”

The headmaster paused, allowing Rhys to process the implications.

”And I’m telling you that the anonymous patron who contacted me has essentially declared that such interference will not be tolerated. The message was couched in diplomatic language, but the threat was unmistakable.”

Aldwyn leaned back in his chair, his expression carrying something that might have been respect for the impossible position Rhys had been placed in.

”So you’re caught between two powers that are now actively working against each other, both invested in opposing outcomes. And I suspect you have no idea what the Kaiser’s intend to do about this situation.”

The headmaster’s final words landed with the weight of absolute certainty.

”Because if they decide that the Elven Council’s interference is unacceptable, the consequences will extend far beyond your academic standing or your hopes of paternal acknowledgment.”

Rhys stood motionless in the center of the office, the implications cascading through his consciousness with the force of an avalanche.

The Elven Council had moved against him. The Kaiser family was responding with threats. And he was caught in the middle, bound to both through obligations he’d accepted willingly but whose full scope he was only now beginning to understand.

Aldwyn watched him with the expression of someone who’d delivered devastating news and was now waiting to see how the recipient would respond.

”What do you need from me?” Rhys finally asked, his voice steady despite the chaos beneath the surface.

”That,” Aldwyn replied, ”is a question you should probably ask a Kaiser, not me.”