Chapter 9 A Monster Disguised As A Hero?
Clovis sat slumped at his desk, not having slept a wink in what felt like forever, deeply disturbed by what he had seen in the ritual trance.
That morning, like every morning since the blank page had revealed itself, he had pulled his Book of Fate from its drawer and checked the final chapter. The ink had crept forward again—another line of his life already written, another inch closer to the emptiness waiting at the end. He had stopped counting the days. The book was counting them for him.
He leaned back, rubbing his aching forehead, the usual quiet of the library was his sanctuary but today it felt deafening and though he’d never admit it out loud, he missed the annoying chattering Chadwick and Lexi brought.
It had undone something in him, something he hadn’t experienced in twenty years, as they had temporarily distracted him from the bleak reality of his life.
Of course, this wasn’t what he bargained for when he took the role but the silence now was just too heavy.
Restless, Clovis rose from his desk and walked out of the library’s back doors, stepping into the open courtyard as he threw his arms back and took a good, long stretch, his eyes closed as he inhaled the crisp air.
But the moment he tilted his head back, faced the sky, and opened his single eye, the breath caught violently in his throat.
He saw the pillar that was channeling mana to the fracture doing nothing but stretching it further.
“These idiots,” Clovis breathed, “They’re ripping it open even more.”
Without a second thought, Clovis bolted, tearing through the corridors and descended straight into the subterranean training arenas.
When he burst through the iron doors, the scene before him was horrific, a slaughterhouse of the mind and body. Hundreds of children were on their knees, coughing up blood, crying out in agony, their bodies literally burning out from the over-channeling, while the Magisters simply stood, watching with detached compliance.
“Hey! Stop it!” Clovis roared, his voice cutting through the collective groans of the arena as he waved his hands in the air. “Stop the ritual right now!”
The Magisters didn’t even budge, ignoring completely, their chanting continuing.
Seeing that they wouldn’t listen, Clovis walked hastily past the guards, storming up the steps of the central podium until he was standing right in front of the Grand Magister.
“You are killing these kids!” Clovis snarled, pointing a shaking finger at the arena floor where Lexi and Chadwick were collapsing. “Look at them! You aren’t fixing the sky, you blind fool, you’re destabilizing the entire pocket dimension!”
The Grand Magister turned his head slowly, looking down at the pale, disheveled librarian with deep condescension. “And what do YOU know about high-tier arcana, old man? You are a keeper of dusty papers. These children are making history. They are sacrificing for the survival of Vaelenor.”
“You’re a maniac,” Clovis hissed.
Realizing that the faculty was completely blinded by their own arrogance, Clovis spun around. He didn’t have the mana to fight a room full of master sorcerers, but he knew the anatomy of a spell better than anyone alive.
He bypassed the Grand Magister and marched straight to the central stone altar where the primary focal runes were carved to siphon the arena’s energy.
With a heavy grunt, Clovis raised his boot and slammed it down, shattering the central focusing crystal embedded in the altar, before violently dragging his hand across the carved grooves, breaking the flow of the runes.
The feedback loop snapped instantly as a blinding flash of white light exploded from the altar, and the veins snaking through the floor and walls shattered into dust.
The sudden severing of the connection sent a physical shockwave through every single student.
All at once, the magnetic bond on their palms broke and every one of them collapsed limply onto the stone floor, unconscious and completely drained, breathing heavily in the sudden, ringing silence of the arena.
“How dare you?!” the Grand Magister roared, his voice shaking the very foundations of the arena. “I could have you arrested this very second, thrown into the deepest, darkest dungeon beneath Vaelenor, and you would never see the sun again in a million years!”
His face contorted into fury as the shattered crystal on the altar hissed with dying mana.
Stepping closer, the Grand Magister lowered his voice, “You think you just saved them? You have doomed us all! That ritual was only a temporary delay and without it, the fracture accelerates at a deadly pace. We needed the students’ lifeforce anyway! It is the only thing thick enough to patch the tear!”
“It wouldn’t have patched a damn thing,” Clovis answered dryly, completely silencing the Grand Magister’s tirade. He stood tall, looking directly into the leader’s eyes.
“Your calculations are entirely wrong, Magister. You are feeding a vortex. The sheer density of the mana you were pulling from these kids wasn’t sealing the rift; it was acting as a gravitational anchor, ripping the tear wider from the other side. You were begging the anomaly to collapse on top of us.”
The Grand Magister blinked, momentarily stunned by the old man’s arcane logic. He stared at Clovis, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“And where… where did you get this kind of knowledge?” the Grand Magister demanded, “No low-level scholar understands dimensional geometry like that.”
Clovis froze for a second, realizing he had almost broken his own cover, he quickly forced a breathless, weary shrug, leaning against the ruined altar, wiping a fresh layer of sweat from his forehead.
“Through my uh youth… travels. I have spent a lifetime reading the forbidden logs in your own deep stacks so I know these types of things. And I know that doing this would only rupture the sky further.”
Down on the cold stone floor, Lexi’s eyes fluttered open, her body felt like it had been hollowed out as she weakly pushed herself up on one elbow, her gaze sweeping across the scene.
All around her, hundreds of elite students lay completely unconscious, some pale as ghosts, others wheezing in their sleep and right next to her, Chadwick was limp, blood still smearing his cheeks and dripping from his ears.
Lexi looked up from the floor, her eyes fixing onto Clovis as he argued against the Grand Magister and for the first time since this nightmare began, a profound confusion gripped her heart.
She truly didn’t know who was right anymore.
Was Clovis a savior who had just stepped in to stop a mass slaughter of innocent children? Or was he the destroyer—the infamous Mage of Ruin whose very presence in the library was causing the world to rip itself apart?
And looking at him, he felt like both… A monster playing the hero, or a hero wrapped in a monster’s skin.
Ignoring the glares of the faculty, Clovis turned his back on the Grand Magister and walked down the steps of the podium and began going over to help the children up one by one.
He gently pulled a groaning student to their feet, before casting his single eye back toward the high platform.
“If you really want these children to fight and bleed for the monster that is about to attack your walls,” Clovis called out, his voice echoing grimly through the quiet arena, “you don’t have to dry them out first. Otherwise, by the time the enemy actually arrives, there will be absolutely nothing left here for them to fight for.”
×××
Clovis moved through the rows of groaning students until he finally reached Lexi and Chadwick. Dropping down to one knee, the librarian scanned Lexi’s pale face, his single good eye clouded with genuine concern.
“Are you alright, girl?” he asked quietly.
Lexi hesitantly nodded as she forced herself up into a sitting position.
“It’s Chadwick I’m worried about.”
Clovis glanced at Chadwick’s limp form, checking the steady pulse at his neck. “Do not worry about the boy. I’ll take him to the medical bay.”
With a low grunt, Clovis gripped Lexi’s arm, anchoring her as he helped both of them up to their feet. Despite looking frail and sickly, he hoisted Chadwick’s unconscious body over his right shoulder, using his left arm to support Lexi so she could limp alongside him.
As they began making their slow escape toward the arena exits, Lexi leaned into his side, her voice dropping to a barely audible whisper.
“Mr. Dupond… back there… why did you do that?” She breathed. “Involving yourself in this, defying the Grand Magister in front of everyone… doesn’t it risk your exposure? If they look too closely into who you are, they’ll find out.”
Clovis didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed straight ahead, “Well, before that happens, I will be far gone from this place.”
Lexi’s heart skipped a beat, the weight of the apocalypse Chadwick had shown her flashing in her mind. “What do you mean far gone? Where are you going?”
“I’ll tell you both when I can,” Clovis replied flatly. “For now, keep your mouth shut and just walk.”
“Mr. Dupond!”
The booming voice of the Grand Magister stopped the librarian dead in his tracks just before the exit threshold.
Slowly, Clovis turned his head back toward the high podium. The Grand Magister stood at the edge, his long fingers gripping his staff so tightly his knuckles were white.
His expression was no longer just furious—it was deeply suspicious.
“Leave the students with the medical acolytes,” the Grand Magister commanded, his voice dripping with an authority that brooked no argument.
“Then, report to my chambers immediately. You and I… we have things to talk about.”
