Chương 108: CHAPTER 106: THE LABORATORY COVENANT

The low vibration in the basalt walls faded, leaving behind a cold, tense quiet inside the subterranean hall. Shin did not move from the center of the dissection pit. His analytical gaze remained fixed on the reinforced iron door, noting the faint residual mana particles drifting across the ceiling vents. The hostile scan had passed, but the intent behind it was unmistakable. The Imperial Vanguard was no longer just patrolling the outer perimeter wall; they were mapping the subterranean ley lines of the academy.

Valerius stared down at his blackened nerve specimen, his fists clutched tightly over the stone desk.

"That wasn't a standard campus ward sweep," Valerius said, his voice tight with suppressed anger.

"That was a high-density sensory probe. The kind the Imperial Inquisition uses when they hunt unregistered bloodlines or illicit research cells." The other fourteen noble heirs looked at one another, the color draining from their faces. They were sons and daughters of high-ranking commanders, chancellors, and ducal houses. They understood the politics of the capital far better than anyone else. Elia and the commoner students quietly pulled their dishes closer, their expressions anxious.

"If the imperial inspectors shut down this basement," Elia murmured softly, "our practical access will be revoked. We will never get a chance to learn micro-thread control again." Valerius stood up abruptly from his bench. The heavy chair scraped against the basalt floor with a sharp, decisive echo. He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a heavy velvet pouch, slamming it onto the front granite slab. Clink. The heavy sound of pure platinum imperial coins rang through the room.

"My family allowance for the next two terms," Valerius stated flatly, looking around at his noble peers.

"We are not letting imperial meddlers ruin this class. If they want to pry into this basement, we build our own wall." Within seconds, the remaining fourteen noble students stepped forward. Heavy coin purses, alchemical credit tokens, and family-crested silver bars were placed onto the table in a growing pile of wealth. For the first time in academy history, the noble cohort was spending their private fortunes not on imported silks or dueling wands, but on defensive materials for a common research lab.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Shin watched the growing pile of coin with an impassive expression. Rudra leaned back against the desk in his mind, thoroughly amused. Abe saale, when rich kids finally get obsessed with a subject, they really throw money at the problem. Valerius turned toward Shin, bowing his head respectfully.

"Professor Shin, allow us to handle the perimeter security," Valerius requested firmly.

"By midnight, my family's private supply lines can deliver Tier 5 acoustic-dampening ward stones and mana-scrambling barrier plates. The imperial hounds will not be able to hear a single breath from inside this room." Shin looked at the determined faces of the twenty students standing before him.

"And your condition?" Shin asked calmly.

"No conditions," Valerius said, his voice steady.

"Only a covenant of absolute silence. What is taught in this basement stays between these walls. No technique, no manual control drill, and not a single word about your identity leaves this room. Anyone who speaks to the Inquisition becomes an enemy of all our houses." The five scholarship commoners and the fifteen noble heirs raised their right hands together, channeling faint threads of mana to seal the collective oath. Shin gave a slow, measured nod.

"Very well. Secure the perimeter. Then we continue the drills." [System Log: Covenant Established] [Security Factor: Level 4 Sound-Dampening Barrier Registered] [Class Morale: 100%] By late evening, the promised defense plates had been installed along the four corners of the basement. The hostile mana hum of the outside world vanished completely, replaced by a quiet, sealed sanctuary. The practical drills stretched deep into the midnight hours.

Exhausted by the intense mental strain of micro-filament mana control, all twenty students eventually collapsed onto the cold basalt floor, sitting together in a wide circle around the central furnace pit. The artificial divide between silk robes and worn commoner tunics had vanished entirely. Elia reached into her satchel and pulled out a large, steaming bamboo basket. Inside lay two dozen plump, soft steamed buns, their snow-white dough hot to the touch and dusted with sweet rice powder.

"My mother packed these this morning," Elia said shyly, passing the basket to Valerius.

"They are sweet red-bean buns. They help recover mental focus after long spellcasting." Valerius hesitated for a brief second, looking down at the simple street food, before taking a warm bun and splitting it in half. Steam curled into the chilly basement air, carrying the rich, sugary aroma of mashed red adzuki beans and warm yeast dough. Valerius took a bite. Soft dough gave way to a dense, velvety filling of sweet, warm red bean paste that melted smoothly across the palate.

The natural sweetness cut through the bitter exhaustion in his throat, sending a warm, comforting wave of relief through his tired core.

"It's incredible," Valerius admitted softly, taking another hungry bite. The basket was passed around the circle. Commoners and nobles laughed quietly together, chewing the warm, sweet buns and trading notes on finger placement and mana tension. Rudra watched them from the edge of the pit, leaning against the cool stone pillars with his arms crossed. Swaad toh sach mein bohot accha hai, late-night hospital shifts ke samosa ki yaad dila di.

(The taste is truly very good, it reminds me of samosas during late-night hospital shifts.) Shin let the students rest, his analytical eyes watching the synchronized rhythm of the quiet room. Then, a faint sound broke the peace. Rustle. A thin, crisp friction echoed from the base of the reinforced entrance. Sliding smoothly across the cold flagstones, an unmarked jet-black envelope moved beneath the iron door frame and came to a dead stop in the center of the entrance aisle.

In the center of the black parchment, glowing with faint, blood-red mana, was a heavy wax seal stamped with the three-pointed dagger of the High Inquisitorial Court.