Internet Mage Professor
Chapter 147: Done

Chapter 147: Done

Inside the massive tower, an uneasy hush settled over the chamber.

Dust motes floated in the still air, illuminated by the dim shaft of torchlight.

Every pair of lungs seemed to pause together, as if held by the weight of what had just transpired.

Chief Varros leaned heavily on his blade, breathing in slow, controlled lines, while Calien, Erik, and their two attendants stood nearby, blades dripping with ichor yet trembling with adrenaline.

The creature’s corpse lay broken, a testament to their brutal, desperate heroism.

Varros finally broke the silence, his voice deep and resonant. "That... was beyond remarkable. Each of you fought with courage I’ve seldom seen, even among experienced knights."

His gaze moved from Calien’s determined stance to Erik’s steady presence, then to the two attendants. "Not as commanding in years as tonight’s fight. You all held your ground against a monstrosity most adult knights would falter before—and emerged victorious."

He paused, allowing the words to sink into the group.

"Now," Varros continued, planting his blade’s tip into the stone floor. Its echo resonated like a drumbeat. "I want you to come with me—to the Black Vale Territory."

Calien exchanged a glance with Erik. Their eyes widened, hearts pounding. They had expected praise, maybe a rest, but rarely had they expected an invitation to an elite territory—much less to a place Varros spoke of with obvious pride.

"I—sir?" Calien’s voice trembled with disbelief.

Varros inclined his head. "Yes. The Black Vale Territory Academy—our home base—is the strongest military institution west of the Fifth‑Star baron territories. We are beyond what Fourth, Third, or even Second‑Star Academies offer. Here, you don’t just learn sword and spellcraft—you master them."

He straightened. "Your display tonight was worthy of a Fifth‑Star warrior already." His voice grew stronger. "If you join us, you’ll gain access to..."

He reached into his breast pocket and drew out a small, polished talisman, engraved with the Vale crest. It glinted in the torchlight.

"Financial support—full coverage for your training, lodging, and supply requisitions. Access to our enchanted weaponry archives—blades and knives forged with First‑Grade mana infusion." Calien’s eyes flicked to the talisman, then met Erik’s in wonder.

Varros continued, his tone deepening with every benefit he listed: "Medical and mana‑recovery services—Valen healers waiting to bind injuries and restore depleted spirits.

Training halls with simulated battlefields, every environment from snow‑scapes to volcanic ash fields. And tutors—knights who’ve faced battlefield bureaucrats and blood‑drakes, veterans of over ten years in the field. You’ll spar with them, learn the tricks they learned the hard way."

Each revelation widened Calien and Erik’s eyes; even the attendants, so often mute in worry, looked entranced.

Varros leaned against the stone wall, roughly carving a faint smile. "On top of all that, your service here tonight—your strategy, your execution—will earn you introductions you cannot buy. I will recommend you personally to... Let’s see..."

He paused, drawing a slow breath. "First: Sir Avellaine Stormbreaker—hero of the Ravenreach Siege. She negotiated her way into demonic fire pits and came out with three archdemons’ hearts."

Calien swallowed. He’d heard stories of Avellaine’s cold resolve, her eyes said to glow red under duress.

"Second: Knight‑Master Calderon Voss—the strategist of the Duskwall Campaign. He designed the tangled shield‑wall that broke the unbreakable tide. He trains only a handpicked dozen every few years." Erik’s grip tightened on his knife—he’d been honing shadow‑evasion tactics made famous by Voss.

"And then," Varros continued, "the greatest—Baroness Yvelia Blackvale herself. She is..." The chief’s voice lowered. "She doesn’t personally train often—but she might personally see you if I vouch for your deeds. That means elevation to the Vale’s Honor Guard—as high a recognition as any knight of the realm can earn short of receiving a Fifth‑Star title."

Calien opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, awed. Erik’s lips parted too, and the attendants leaned forward, their fatigue forgotten.

"You... you’d actually recommend us to them?" Calien whispered.

Varros’s voice softened. "Your performance tonight, the strategy—you demonstrated instinct, bravery, and quick thinking. These aren’t just qualities of good students, but of emerging champions. I’ve seen too many cullings for lack of blood, too many talents wasted on vanity. I am offering opportunity—if you want it."

A long pause followed. Torchlight danced across carved stone and still‑living bones of their enemy. No one spoke—all realizing the gravity of Varros’s offer.

"I, uh..." Erik’s voice trembled. "Sir... we—"

Varros focused on them again. "This isn’t charity. You’ve earned your place. The Vale needs minds as sharp as your blades... Soldiers who think, strategize, and build their own courage."

He lifted the talisman again. "This is your key. If you accept, you’ll wear a uniform that commands respect. If you decline—you walk away with honor, but you will wonder what might have been."

Calien’s voice cracked with emotion. "Sir—I... I accept. As your student. And as your soldier."

Erik nodded, tears glimmering in his eyes. "I, too. Thank you."

The attendants looked at each other, then at Varros. The first man swallowed hard. "Sir... if they go, we... we wish to go too—after them. They’ll need our support."

Varros’s expression softened. "You served tonight with distinction as well. If the students join Vale... I will consider letting you—stay with them as guards and junior instructors."

Silence fell again, this time gentler. Three mortal knights—the students and two attendants—stood accepted by one of the highest echelons of military service known.

It was the beginning of a new Chapter.

Later, as the adrenaline faded and the tower seemed almost peaceful again, Varros addressed them once more, voice now low and steady.

"Listen," he said quietly, "you will be trained. You will run. You will strike. I will guide you. I will push you to fight smarter, think faster, and move beyond mere skill—into mastery." He paused. "But you must decide now. Will you walk with me, with the Vale, into this new crucible?"

They answered in unison: "Yes, sir."

Underground and miles away, the creatures outside rotted in silence.

In the tower they rose, renewed.

The Vale’s future was taking shape—and tonight had been only the start.

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