Chapter 48

Chapter 48: Chapter 48 Clayton caught the mocking glint in his opponent’s eyes. He knew exactly what that guy was thinking. "Hey, you over there. Are you insulting the Academy of Water and Fire Magic?" Hope sneered. "Aren’t you living in a city under the academy’s jurisdiction? Didn’t you attend this conference they organized—supposedly to learn? And now you act like some enemy of the very institution offering you a chance? How hypocritical. Honestly, I don’t understand why the academy even allows people like you to walk free. You should’ve been exiled—or better yet, executed—as an example to others!" His voice was heated, each word dripping with venom. Hope clearly wanted Clayton punished. Clayton raised an eyebrow and replied coolly, "You done with the lecture? So, I’m a hypocrite now?" Hope was momentarily taken aback. Despite the harsh accusation, Clayton remained calm—unsettlingly calm. Shouldn’t a normal person be afraid or at least defensive? Why was he treating this like a joke? "Isn’t that what you are?" Hope pressed. Clayton let out a small, dry laugh and gave him a look of disgust. "Hah. You really are brainless, aren’t you?" Hope opened his mouth to retort, but Clayton didn’t give him the chance. "I’m not a hypocrite—and I never disrespected the academy. What I am questioning is how someone like you got accepted into such a prestigious institution." He continued, his voice sharp with conviction, "You showed up spewing accusations without bothering to find out what actually happened. If you really cared, you would’ve asked the people around us first. They could’ve told you the truth—not that it would matter to someone as biased as you. If you’re really a student of the academy, then all you’ve done is disgrace its name." His words rang out, firm and unwavering. Hope stood there, stunned. Clayton hadn’t insulted the academy—he had insulted him. And deep down, Hope knew it. Clenching his teeth, Hope’s frustration boiled into silent rage. All around them, people kept their heads down, unwilling to get involved—but their expressions said it all: they understood who was truly in the wrong. Unable to hold himself back, Hope began casting a spell, blinded by rage. Clayton remained still, his expression unreadable. He knew he could easily handle a mid-tier apprentice mage’s attack. But before Hope could launch his spell, a loud bell echoed through the air. Ding! Dong! Ding! Dong! A clear voice rang out across the tower, summoning everyone inside. "Everyone, please proceed to the conference hall. The event is starting. Do not disrupt the academic proceedings!" Hope froze mid-cast, then flinched as a stern voice barked at him. "Hope! What are you waiting for? Come help with the guests!" It was a senior mage. Hope clicked his tongue in frustration, glaring daggers at Clayton before reluctantly backing off. Clayton scoffed and turned away. The senior mage, who had been silently observing from nearby, sighed and shook his head. He hadn’t expected Hope to be verbally dismantled like that. From what he saw, Clayton wasn’t just some random troublemaker. That sharp tongue and commanding presence... he didn’t just defend himself—he shut his opponent down without ever dragging the academy into the mud. If a fight had broken out, it would’ve been the academy’s reputation on the line. And even if Hope wasn’t one of their star pupils, he still wore their name. Casting one last glance at Clayton, the senior mage walked off to resume his duties. Clayton, aware of the lingering attention, felt a twinge of unease. He knew from experience—even when you’re right, boldness wasn’t always appreciated. "What’s wrong, Clayton? Regretting your words?" Arthur teased lightly beside him. Clayton managed a bitter smile. "Haha... what’s done is done, Brother Arthur." Arthur patted his shoulder. "Let it go. Come on, let’s get inside before all the good seats are taken." Clayton nodded, and the two made their way to the conference hall—leaving Isadora, Balda, and Ardy behind. Isadora watched Clayton’s back with restless eyes. But her gaze soon shifted to Balda. She stepped closer and said coyly, "Thanks for stepping in earlier. You’re so kind—unlike that jerk who doesn’t even know how to say thank you. You’re really... charming~" Balda, still simmering moments before, instantly lit up. "Haha, think nothing of it! It’s only right to help those in need—especially someone as beautiful as you," he said heroically. Isadora blushed and giggled. Balda’s grin widened. In his mind, the pain had been worth it. Meanwhile, Ardy lay crumpled on the ground, glaring at them both with burning jealousy. "Sister Isadora... I’m still hurt. Could you help me get home?" he groaned. Isadora frowned. "Ardy, are you a man or not? Why should I have to carry your problems? The conference is starting. I’m not playing nursemaid." Ardy flinched but tried again. "I helped you earlier, didn’t I? Can’t you at least—" "Excuse me? I never asked for your help. You jumped in on your own." He tried to plead. "Yeah, yeah... but help me just this once?" "Nope! I bet you’re faking it just to stay close to me. That water spell earlier? Please—it was weaker than a child’s toy." "Sis—" "Enough! Don’t bother me. You should be focusing on the conference, not whining. If you want to be someone someday, study harder. Right, Brother Balda?" she added sweetly. Balda nodded enthusiastically, and the two of them left together. Ardy could only stare at their backs, consumed by rage, humiliation, and regret. Balda turned back briefly and growled, "Don’t ever bother Isadora again—or you’ll answer to me!" Isadora beamed. Even if I didn’t get Clayton, she thought, at least I’ve secured Balda—young, strong, and naive. Ardy forced a bitter smile. Deep down, he cursed himself. This is what happens when you chase women without using your brain... ... Inside the grand hall, Clayton sat beside Arthur. They waited a few minutes before the conference officially began. Once the opening announcements were made, the event got underway. During the first session, Clayton couldn’t hide his excitement. The material was insightful and valuable. He felt it was worth coming after all. He listened attentively throughout the morning until the break for lunch. After a short rest, the second session began—this time with specialized topics. Clayton chose the agricultural track, which aligned with his background. He took his seat again, though this time the excitement didn’t last. While the speaker shared useful knowledge, most of it was already familiar to Clayton—thanks to both his own experience and the Entry System. A subtle disappointment crept in. Maybe I should’ve picked the scrollcraft or alchemy sessions instead... he thought with a sigh. As his thoughts drifted, he didn’t notice the stranger watching him. Across the room, a man stared at him with open hostility—eyes sharp and unblinking. Moments later, the man whispered something to the event host, slipping a few magic crystals into the host’s hand in the process. The host nodded subtly, then suddenly raised his voice. "Looks like someone here is too advanced for us," he said with a mocking tone. "Maybe our friend’s insights are so profound that these lectures just bore him? In that case, why not come up and enlighten us all?" Dozens of heads turned. Clayton blinked, startled. He looked around just to be sure—but no, there was no doubt. Every eye in the room was on him. "...Uhh... what’s going on?"