Nero finally tore his gaze from Benjamin's prone form and the frantic healers, letting it land on Valerius, one of his assigned teammates.
Valerius, usually a boisterous and overly confident mage with an irritatingly pristine uniform, looked utterly deflated, his hair slightly askew from unconsciously running his hands through it. He was pale, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, and his usual swagger had completely vanished, replaced by a stunned, almost childlike vulnerability.
"Well,"
Nero began, a sardonic twist to his lips,
"that was certainly... a thing. Anyone else feel like we just got a free pass from a homicidal wizard who hates everyone equally?"
Valerius, instead of his usual witty retort, just gulped.
"I... I think my bladder just received its final year exam, and it failed."
He managed a weak, shaky laugh that died quickly.
"I mean, did you see that? One punch! Benjamin! Benjamin, for crying out loud! He's, like, made of textbooks and good intentions. Not exactly a brawler."
Nero snorted, a humorless sound.
"Yeah, well, Giovanno doesn't seem to care much for good intentions, does he? Or rules. Or, apparently, basic human decency. I told you he was bad news. Remember how he always looked at us like we were particularly annoying dust bunnies?"
"Dust bunnies with a passing grade, though,"
Valerius muttered, a flicker of his usual irony returning, quickly extinguished by the gravity of the situation.
"Still, I don't think I'll ever be able to look at sand again without thinking about a pointy death stick flying at my face. Or that wolf. He barely even looked at the wolf. Just... poof, dead. Like it was an inconvenient fly."
"The wolf was lucky," Nero countered, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "Benjamin got the full Giovanno experience. Maybe we should be grateful for our insignificance. Keeps us out of the direct line of fire."
He glanced over at Benjamin, the sight making his stomach churn.
"Seriously though, I feel like I need to go wash my eyes out with soap. And my soul. And maybe get a new team that doesn't include a homicidal, sand-bending, exam-disregarding maniac."
Valerius, still looking utterly shell-shocked, nodded earnestly.
"Agreed. I'm putting in a formal request for a team comprised entirely of librarians and house elves next year. Less chance of spontaneous cranial re-arrangement."
He shuddered.
"And what about the teachers? Did you see Gnaeus's face? He was defending the rules, then Giovanno just went and body-slammed the rulebook itself. Right in front of him!"
"Yeah, that's the part that's really going to burn them,"
Nero mused, a grim satisfaction in his voice.
"Not the wolf, not even us getting a pass, but the sheer, unadulterated disrespect. Giovanno just spat on their entire system and walked away. Bold. Stupid. But undeniably bold."
He paused, looking around at the hushed, stunned faces of the other students in the arena.
"I wonder what they'll do. They can't just let that slide, can they?"
"Poor Benjamin," Livia murmured, her voice soft but clear, interrupting their exchange. She walked closer, her gaze fixed on the still form of their unconscious peer.
"I wouldn't like being in his situation. Not just the hit, but... to be struck down like that, so publicly, for trying to do what was right. It's humiliating."
Nero and Valerius immediately sobered, their wry humor fading in the face of Livia's heartfelt distress. Her words hung in the air, a stark reminder that this wasn't just a bizarre spectacle, but a real act of violence with a real victim.
"He was just trying to show some respect,"
Livia continued, shaking her head slowly, a hint of frustration in her voice.
"To the rules, to the teachers... and Giovanno just stomped all over it. What kind of person does that? What kind of mage?"
Her eyes, usually warm, hardened slightly.
"Passing the exam is one thing. But what he did just now... that's unforgivable."
Nero found himself nodding, a rare moment of agreement with Livia. His own casual acceptance of Giovanno's arrogance was starting to feel uncomfortable now that Livia had framed it in terms of right and wrong, respect and disrespect.
"She's right,"
Valerius added, his earlier bravado completely gone.
"I mean, I don't care much for Benjamin usually, he's a bit too 'by the book' for my taste, but he didn't deserve that. Nobody deserves that." He ran a hand over his face. "My stomach hurts just thinking about it."
"But... how did he do that?"
Nero interjected, his gaze lingering on the spot where the wolf had dissolved, then flicking to where Benjamin lay.
"The sand thing, yeah, that was impressive, but then just... hitting Benjamin like that? No magic, just brute force? And Benjamin's not exactly weak. It was too fast, too powerful."
He shook his head in genuine confusion.
"How does someone just do that?"
"Because he's a Scholae,"
Brutus stated, his voice a low rumble, devoid of any surprise or shock, just grim certainty. He looked directly at Nero, then swept his gaze over the other stunned students, his expression grave.
"Don't let the robes fool you. The way he moved, the way he struck, the raw power even without overt magic... it's the distinctive mark. A Scholae is more than just a mage. They are trained from birth, not just in spellcraft, but in physical combat, in the absolute mastery of their own bodies, amplified by a primal, latent magic few of us ever truly access."
A ripple of murmurs went through the student observers. The term "Scholae" was whispered, a word spoken with a mix of reverence and fear. It referred to an ancient, almost mythical lineage of mages, said to possess innate physical prowess far beyond the norm, capable of feats that blurred the lines between magic and raw, devastating strength.
"They're faster, stronger, more resilient,"
Brutus continued, his gaze drifting towards the empty space where the portal had been.
"Every move is optimized, every blow carries the weight of their inherent arcane energy. It's why he didn't need a spell to take down Benjamin. He was the spell."
He shook his head.
"And that's why no one among us... no one in this class, is yet to reach that level. We are students of magic. He is a force of nature, barely contained by the academy's walls. And now... he's loose."
Just as the implications began to fully sink in, a voice, amplified by unseen magic, boomed through the hall once more. It was Gnaeus, his tone now devoid of the raw fury they'd glimpsed moments ago, replaced by an unnerving, almost resigned solemnity. He was no longer speaking just to the programmers, but to every student, every observer, his words carrying the weight of institutional decree.
"Students,"
Gnaeus's voice resonated, slow and deliberate,
"I extend my sincerest apologies for the distressing turn of events you have just witnessed."
A collective intake of breath swept through the unseen audience. An apology from a senior programmer? This was truly unprecedented.
"This institution prides itself on maintaining an environment of safety, decorum, and rigorous, fair assessment. What transpired here today was an unfortunate deviation from those principles."
He paused, and the silence that followed was absolute, filled with the collective tension of hundreds of students waiting for the axe to fall on Giovanno. They expected condemnation,
expulsion, perhaps even the activation of arcane warrants.
"Therefore,"
Gnaeus's voice continued, unwavering,
"as per the established criteria for this specific examination module, Giovanno has passed the Final Year Exam. His score, reflecting the unparalleled efficiency and potency of his magical demonstration, is, in fact, among the highest ever recorded in this section."
A gasp swept through the student body, quickly followed by a frustrated, indignant mutter that Gnaeus's amplified voice effortlessly suppressed. It was unfathomable. He had assaulted a peer, openly defied authority, and he was being rewarded for it?
"Furthermore,"
Gnaeus added, his voice now almost laced with a strange, strained pride,
"such a display of innate power and mastery, even in its unconventional application, cannot be ignored by the highest echelons of magical academia. Giovanno's high mark will, without a doubt, earn him a coveted spot at Magicae Apixem Arcana."
The name hung in the air like a chime from a distant bell tower: Magicae Apixem Arcana. The Apex Arcane. It was not just an academy; it was the pinnacle, the most exclusive and revered institution of magical learning in the known world, a place where only a handful of truly exceptional, once-in-a-generation talents were invited.
It was a place beyond their wildest dreams, where the greatest arch-mages and spell-lords were forged.
And Giovanno, the arrogant, violent Giovanno, had just been granted entry.
Nero stared, his jaw slack. All his resentment, all his attempts at sardonic humor, drained out of him, replaced by a cold, hollow understanding. This wasn't just unfair; it was a fundamental redefinition of justice itself. Giovanno wasn't merely above their rules; he was above their world.
Valerius looked ready to throw up.
Livia covered her mouth with a trembling hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of outrage. Julia's expression was a mixture of stunned realization and quiet despair. Brutus simply closed his eyes for a moment, a sigh escaping his lips, as if confirming a deeply held, unpleasant truth. The power Giovanno represented, and the institutions that coveted it, truly transcended everything they knew.
"The exam will resume in a very short time,"
Gnaeus concluded, his voice now regaining a semblance of its usual professional cadence, as if the extraordinary events of the last few minutes were merely a minor blip.
"Students will proceed to their next modules as scheduled. We wish Benjamin a swift and full recovery."