Chapter 17: Residual Check
The cold metal tip of the residual detection rod touched the wooden frame of Leo’s doorway.
"Step aside, Cadet Vance," the senior examiner commanded.
Leo Vance walked to the secondary sparring grounds before the morning bell sounded. The research specialist from the previous day was already present on the field, accompanied by two senior residual examiners and a small cadre of advanced cadets.
Several crystal detection rods floated above the dirt, casting a pale azure glow across the churned sand as they scanned for dormant contamination.
The faculty instructor who had questioned Leo during the formal inquiry nodded upon his arrival.
"Cadet Vance, remain within the perimeter," the instructor ordered. "Should residual energy appear, you engage only upon direct command."
"Understood," Leo replied, maintaining a calm, impassive expression.
Beneath his ribs, his spiritual core rotated quietly. After two days of holding back, the dark mana circulating through his combat pathways felt remarkably dense and responsive. He suppressed the internal gravity aura, keeping his spiritual signature completely flat.
The floating crystals swept across the sparring grounds in broad, methodical arcs. For ten minutes, the sand remained inert.
Cadets traveling toward the Grand Coliseum slowed along the colonnade to watch the inspection, while several noble representatives from House Voss and House Snowveil observed from the terrace above.
Suddenly, one of the crystal rods flashed a vibrant crimson.
The research specialist raised her hand, signaling immediate caution. "Residual pocket detected near the eastern boundary markers."
A plume of dark, acrid smoke seeped upward through the sand.
The dark mist condensed rapidly, forming two shifting shadow beasts. They were smaller and less cohesive than the monsters from the previous afternoon, yet their smoky claws remained sharp enough to pierce standard armor.
Leo understood the true nature of residual contamination from the novel’s deepest lore. The ancient Calamities sealed beneath the continent were not truly dead; microscopic fractures in the deep underground fault lines allowed raw dark mana to bleed into the crust, condensing into aggressive shadow constructs.
The butterfly effect of Leo’s altered actions had accelerated the minor faults beneath the academy.
A senior cadet stepped forward, channeling an earth-binding circle. However, the first shadow beast darted through the gap before the stone pillars could fully form, lunging directly toward the gathering spectators.
Leo moved without waiting for an official command.
He recognized the precise vulnerability: the left shoulder joint during its forward extension.
Drawing his wooden practice sword, Leo coated the edge in a razor-thin layer of wind mana, pivoting smoothly past the beast’s sweeping claw.
He struck once.
The wooden blade met the dense shadow core with a clean, solid impact. The half-formed monster let out a sharp hiss before dissolving into fading wisps of black vapor.
The second shadow creature wheeled toward him, its jaws dripping dark mist. As an instructor’s binding spell landed slightly off-target, Leo stepped left, waited for the beast’s extension, and drove his blade into the exact same anatomical node.
The strike was clean, precise, and executed with minimal visible aura.
Both creatures were eliminated in under twenty seconds.
A stunned silence fell over the sparring field.
The research specialist stared at the dispersing smoke, her quill pausing over her slate before she locked eyes with Leo.
"Two more decisive strikes," she observed, her gaze sharpening. "Identical placement. Identical timing."
"The creatures exhibited the same movement patterns as yesterday," Leo replied evenly.
The lead instructor stepped forward, his expression grave. "Report to the Residual Research Division following your afternoon tournament matches. Bring your official cultivation records. The ducal observers have requested a formal copy."
Leo offered a curt nod.
Around the perimeter, murmurs broke out among the spectators. An unranked countryside cadet who neutralized residual monsters with single, calculated strikes was no longer someone the noble factions could dismiss.
The morning tournament matches proceeded smoothly. Assigned to barrier support duty, Leo kept his profile low while the arena hummed with escalating rumors.
During the midday intermission, Caelum Voss intercepted him near the outer colonnade. The ducal heir maintained an immaculate, composed posture for the passing crowd, but his gray eyes burned with restless anxiety.
"The research board requested your complete records," Caelum murmured, stopping beside the stone balustrade. "My house received the same notification. An imperial residual specialist may arrive from the capital next week."
Leo said nothing, resting his hands in his dark coat pockets.
Caelum leaned closer, his voice dropping to a tense, urgent whisper.
"Elara’s condition is deteriorating. She barely speaks to me, and her focus is completely unraveled. When I broached the subject of the next recording this morning, she refused immediately. Something is shifting inside her, and I need the crystal completed soon. Tonight, if possible."
"She already refused you," Leo countered.
"Then make her comply," Caelum urged, his desperation breaking through his polished composure. "The tournament pressure is escalating, and these residual inquiries are closing in. I cannot afford a bottleneck right now."
Caelum turned and departed as a squad of third-year cadets approached.
Leo watched him leave with a cold, calculating gaze. The more public pressure mounted on Caelum, the deeper the ducal heir sank into his private obsession.
Following the conclusion of the morning bracket, Leo returned the spare barrier plates to the eastern depot.
Elara Snowveil stood waiting by the stone wall of the secluded practice field.
Her pure-white hair was neatly braided, her rapier resting against her hip. She was not watching the arena; her sharp golden eyes were fixed directly on the path Leo was walking.
Their gazes met, and for the first time, Elara did not look away.
Leo halted three paces away, close enough for quiet conversation while maintaining public decorum.
"The research division requested my combat records," Leo said. "Your house observers likely have a copy on their desks already."
"I am aware," Elara answered, her voice quiet and controlled. "They questioned me this morning regarding your conduct during the breach."
"And what did you tell them?"
"That you capitalized on two fortunate openings," she replied, though her fingers tightened perceptibly around her scabbard. "They were not entirely convinced."
A brief silence settled between them before Elara spoke again, her voice dropping lower:
"Caelum visited my suite this morning. He asked for another recorded night. I refused."
Leo waited, watching the subtle blush color the tips of her ears.
"The thoughts are becoming stronger," she confessed, her proud expression faltering for a fraction of a second. "Every time I close my eyes, I see the same memories. Your hands... your voice... the way it felt when you held me down."
She drew a sharp, trembling breath, struggling against her own vulnerability.
"I cannot make the cravings stop."
"Then exercise your noble discipline," Leo suggested calmly.
"I have tried," Elara countered, her golden eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and raw frustration. "It is no longer effective."
She took half a step closer, the space between them narrowing significantly.
"Do not come to my suite," she commanded in a low, breathless whisper. "And do not wait for Caelum to orchestrate another transaction. If I seek you out... I will come on my own terms."
Without awaiting a reply, Elara turned on her heel and strode toward the female dormitory path, her posture straight and proud.
Leo stood beneath the quiet colonnade, feeling his refined mana circulate steadily throughout his body.
The residual inspection was concluded, his value on the academy board had risen, and the proud ice maiden had just admitted that her surrender was no longer about Caelum’s wishes.
Elara tapped three sharp times on his door, her golden eyes burning with dangerous resolve. "Caelum’s premier match begins in twenty minutes."