100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids

Chapter 866: Chapter 865- Manipulating the Couple

Aldric, who was in his seat, glared. His eyes, which had been on Yuki, followed her gaze. To me. The look, which was hostile and raw, was the look of a man who had lost control and was looking for someone to blame.

I ignored him. The gaze, which did not acknowledge his existence, was a dismissal. The insult, which was not spoken but implied, was a provocation. His jaw, which clenched, was a tell.

I reached the podium. The board, which was clean, was waiting. The chalk, which was in the tray, was picked up. I wrote.

The runes, which appeared on the board, were not the same as yesterday’s. The symbols, which were angular and complex, were advanced. The combinations, which were layered, were the kind that appeared in research papers, not textbooks.

”Today,” I said, my voice calm and clear, ”we will discuss the relationship between rune inversion and dimensional anchoring. Yesterday, I introduced the concept. Today, we will explore the mechanics.”

The class, which had been buzzing with whispers about the rumor, went quiet. The students, who had been glancing at Yuki and Aldric, focused. The board, which was filling with diagrams, was a magnet.

I taught. The theory, which was deep and complex, was delivered in a way that was clear and accessible. The concepts, which were new, were built on the foundations that I had laid the day before. The runes, which were abstract, were made concrete through examples and applications.

”Consider this combination,” I said, pointing to a cluster of three runes on the board. ”The primary function is flow regulation. The secondary function is spatial mapping. The tertiary function, which is not documented in any textbook, is dimensional locking.”

I drew the inversion. The lines, which were mirror images, appeared. The class, which had been following, leaned forward.

”When inverted, the flow regulation becomes flow disruption. The spatial mapping becomes spatial distortion. And the dimensional locking becomes...” I paused. The silence, which was a teacher’s tool, was a hook. ”Dimensional creation.”

The room went still. The concept, which was not in any textbook, was a revelation. Dimensional creation. The ability to create a pocket of space. A room that existed outside of reality. A prison, or a sanctuary, that was invisible and inaccessible.

”Professor,” Yuki said. The word, which came out before she could stop it, was the word of a mind that was engaged. Her hand, which had been on the table, was raised. Her eyes, which had been on the notebook, were on me. The awareness, which had been a distraction, was forgotten. The question, which was genuine, was the question of a scholar.

I looked at her. At the face, which was flushed. At the eyes, which were bright. At the hand, which was raised.

”Yes, Miss Tanabe?” I said.

”If the inversion creates a dimensional pocket, what determines the size and stability of the pocket? Is it the mana capacity of the caster, or the complexity of the rune combination?”

”Good question,” I said. The praise, which was genuine, was a reward. ”The answer is both. But primarily, it is the precision of the rune combination. A poorly drawn rune, even with high mana capacity, will create an unstable pocket. A precisely drawn rune, even with low mana capacity, will create a stable one. The mana determines the size. The precision determines the stability.”

She wrote. The pen, which moved fast, recorded. The notes, which were detailed, were a transcription of the lecture. Her hand, which had been shaking from the awareness, was steady now. The scholar, which had been buried beneath the woman, had emerged.

”Professor,” she said again. The hand, which had been writing, was raised. ”If the precision is the key, then how does one measure precision? Is there a standard, or is it relative to the caster’s skill?”

”Another good question,” I said. ”The precision is measured by the coherence of the mana flow within the rune. A coherent flow produces a stable pocket. An incoherent flow produces an unstable one. The coherence can be measured using a resonance detector, which is a device that I will introduce in the next class.”

She wrote. The notes, which were filling the page, were a record. Her eyes, which had been bright, were brighter. The engagement, which was total, was the engagement of a mind that was being fed.

I continued. The lecture, which was a mix of theory and application, went deep. The concepts, which were advanced, were made accessible. The examples, which were practical, were demonstrations.

The class, which had been confused and challenged, was engaged. The geniuses, who had been confident, were humbled. The nobles, who had been proud, were silent. The commoners, who had been quiet, were attentive.

The bell rang. The sound, which signaled the end of the class, was a release. The students, who had been focused, relaxed. The notebooks, which had been open, were closed. The bags, which had been under the desks, were packed.

I left. The podium, which had been my station, was abandoned. The board, which was covered in runes, was a record. The classroom, which had been a lecture hall, was emptying.

Yuki stood. Her notebook, which was in her arms, was pressed against her chest. Her face, which had been composed during the class, was troubled. The enlightenment, which had been a high, was fading. The doubt, which had been buried, was returning.

She looked at Aldric. He was glaring at me. At the back of the man who was walking away. The look, which was hostile and raw, was the look of a man who was beyond reason.

’Why is he looking at the professor like that? It was just questions. Academic questions. Nothing more. Why does he think...’

The doubt, which was a seed, was growing. Not about Aldric. About herself. About her own feelings. About the awareness, which had been so strong during the class, that she had tried to suppress.

’Did I do something wrong? Did I encourage the rumor? Was I too eager? Too obvious?’

She looked at me. At the back, which was retreating. At the coat, which was dark. At the mask, which was in place.

”Professor,” she said. The word, which was spoken to herself, was a whisper. ”Professor, wait.”

She followed. Out of the classroom. Into the hallway. Her feet, which had been hesitant, moved. Her notebook, which was in her arms, was a shield. Her face, which was troubled, was a mask.

Aldric, who had been packing his bag, saw. His eyes, which had been on his desk, lifted. To Yuki. To the door. To the hallway. To the back of the woman who was following the professor.

His jaw clenched. The muscle, which had been twitching, went rigid. His hands, which had been slow, stopped. The bag, which had been half-packed, was abandoned.

He stood. To follow. To confront. To...

”Excuse me.”

The voice, which was calm and clear, came from in front of him. He looked. The face, which was beautiful and composed, was the face of a woman he knew.

Seraphina. The president. Who was standing in his path with a smile that was polite and a posture that was blocking.

”Aldric,” she said. His name, which was spoken with familiarity, was a surprise. ”Do you know the concept that the professor explained? The dimensional locking? Can you help me understand it?”