Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 47: Crisis

The tension hadn’t yet faded from the air when a sharp, deliberate ahem cut through the echoing laughter and murmuring crowd.

Like a blade slicing through fog, the clearing of a throat brought a hush over the amphitheater once more.

Granfire stopped mid-jeer, his exaggerated grin freezing on his face like a painting caught in the rain.

Nolan’s forced chuckles stuttered to a halt, his eyes flicking to the source of the sound.

The Chief of the Black Vale Mana Knights, a man as still as a statue and just as imposing, slowly lowered his gloved hand from his chin.

His armor gleamed beneath the skylight, silver lined with dark blue patterns that shimmered like restrained lightning.

"Teacher Granfire," he said, voice low but resonant, like rolling thunder from a distant mountain. "Is what you said true?"

Granfire blinked.

The lighthearted mischief drained from his expression like color from a drying leaf.

He straightened his back, cleared his own throat now, and nodded with a formality he hadn’t used in years.

"Yes, Chief," he said plainly. "Every word."

There was a long pause.

The Chief’s eyes narrowed slightly. He seemed to be thinking—no, calculating.

His lips moved faintly, as if mumbling something to himself, something only he could hear.

And then, he exhaled, and his voice rose—not as a shout, but with the clarity and weight of a gavel striking judgment.

"Then it is time you all hear the truth."

The crowd leaned forward.

"For the past month," the Chief began, "I have served under the personal command of Lord Baron Helmdurn—Noble of the High Veins, the Iron Crest Bearer, Wielder of the Blood Oath Sigil, and Lord Protector of the Black Vale. He is not merely a noble in name—he is a True Noble, appointed under imperial recognition."

The entire coliseum fell silent as the name dropped like an anvil onto the collective consciousness.

"My mission was a covert deployment. We were to investigate an anomaly that Lord Helmdurn traced—an unusual energy signature rippling across the southern valleys, one that coincided with multiple disappearances, unnatural wildlife behavior, and distorted mana readings."

The Chief paused, his hand clenched tightly behind his back. His jaw set.

"We tracked it here. To this region. Silver Blade City, to be exact. Upon arrival, something... something unprecedented occurred. Every member of my unit, from Senior Knights to Arcane Lieutenants, immediately experienced a dramatic and inexplicable drop in rank."

More gasps.

"Our mana cores—crippled. What once roared like a dragon was reduced to a faint spark. From Masters and Adepts, we fell to Initiate-level Mana Users—our entire combat capabilities rendered almost inert."

"Impossible..."

"They were reduced to Initiates?"

"Even the Black Vale knights?"

Murmurs surged through the audience like a wave. Old Principal Duldor squinted from his seat, his hands trembling just slightly on the arms of his chair.

The Chief continued, undeterred. "At first, we suspected a curse. But it was more than that. It is not only this city that suffers this anomaly. It spans across the entire Tri-City Region. The territories of Iron Dew City and Scarlet Rift City—both are affected. The mana density in the air is stunted. Our movements are restricted. Spells beyond Tier Three are nearly impossible to execute."

The reality hit the listeners like a bludgeon.

"Then... that means—"

"The students are stuck at Initiate level too?"

"No wonder advanced spell formations collapse..."

The Chief raised a hand, silencing the whispers. His gaze sharpened, the tension in his posture tightening like a bowstring. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

"But that’s not all. While investigating the region, we encountered strange entities. Creatures we couldn’t identify. They were not recorded in any bestiary. They possessed no aura that we could perceive through conventional mana senses. They walk like ghosts, but strike like beasts from a forgotten age."

Nolan’s heart sank. Granfire’s fists clenched.

"They spread... relentlessly," the Chief said. "Every village we passed, every hamlet we approached—either abandoned, or drenched in blood and silence. Survivors were rare, and those who lived could barely speak. They talked of nightmares—of creatures who did not chase, but waited. Of shadows that crept even under sunlight."

The audience murmured louder now.

"They’re real?"

"Spreading...?"

"Could they be tied to the undead we saw?!"

But the Chief wasn’t done. His voice rose, firm and clear, heavy with revelation.

"These creatures cannot be killed by normal means. Swords dull on their flesh. Fire does not consume them. Mana strikes either miss entirely or are absorbed. But worst of all—they prey on fear. The moment you fear them, you lose. You do not hesitate. You do not run. You do not scream. You freeze. Your limbs lock. Your mana stutters. Your mind blanks. We lost men to that. Knights. Veterans."

Another pause.

"And that, my friends, is why this examination... this event... was not just an academic evaluation. We used it as a simulation. A test."

Nolan stiffened.

Granfire’s eyes widened.

"We watched as your students faced the creature. We studied their reactions. And one stood. Not out of arrogance. Not out of ignorance. But through courage. Real courage."

The crowd had gone quiet. Not silent from awe, but breathless.

"Not only that, but the boy mocked the creature. He showed no trace of paralysis. No symptoms of fear magic triggering. That, in itself, is more than a success—it is a breakthrough."

Granfire, overwhelmed by the weight of it all, turned to Nolan. "You—did you know? Did you know they were watching?"

Nolan didn’t respond. His thoughts were still catching up to the moment.

"And worse still," the Chief said now, voice darkening again, "these entities are not isolated. We believe they have nests. They breed—somehow. We do not know how fast. We do not know how far they have spread. But what we do know—what we are absolutely certain of—is that their numbers grow. Every week. Perhaps even daily."

The gasps turned into open panic now.

"What?!"

"They... they’re multiplying?"

"Does that mean they could already be in other cities?!"

"I thought it was a curse! Not a plague!"

"How are we supposed to defend ourselves if our ranks are suppressed!?"

The Chief lifted his hand again, and though he said nothing, the silence returned.

He turned his eyes back to the center of the arena.

The student was still standing. Shaking a little, maybe, but his back was straight. His face, sweaty and pale, didn’t hold fear. It held defiance.

The Chief stepped forward, his armored boots echoing across the stone platform with weight and certainty. He stopped at the very edge, directly overlooking the student and Granfire.

"And you," he said, voice quieter now, more solemn. "You are what we’re looking for."

Gasps again, but softer—awe, this time.

Granfire’s lips parted.

The student, eyes wide, looked up as if he were staring at a god.

The Chief nodded once, firm and proud. "A warrior whose courage does not break under pressure. One who doesn’t wait for permission to act. You stood. When even experienced mages have fallen. When we, the Mana Knights of the Black Vale, lost comrades. You, a student, stood."

And in that moment, it no longer felt like an exam.

It felt like the prologue to war.

And all eyes turned to that lone student, who stood—not as a pupil—but as a future weapon against a creeping darkness none of them had truly understood... until now.