CHAPTER 131: IT’S ALL POINTLESS

Alchemy was hell.

Noah sat at the back of the room, parchment open, quill in hand, shadows muttering in his head while the professor droned on at the front of the class.

The man’s voice was a low, constant buzz, layered with the clink of glassware and the hiss of burners.

Words like "reactive catalysts," "stabilization ratios," and "mana-binding agents" were scrawled across the chalkboard, but none of it made sense to him.

He’d missed too much. The three months in chains had gutted his foundation.

The other students scribbled furiously, nodded at explanations, and measured powders into neat measurements.

Noah stared at his parchment. His notes were a graveyard of half finished sentences. He didn’t even know what he was writing anymore.

He leaned back, eyes half-lidded, letting his shadows curl beneath the desk like restless cats.

"Boring," one hissed. "We don’t need this to make the world pay."

"This is all just pointless," another added. "Can’t we find a way out of this?"

Noah silently agreed.

When the professor called for the brewing of a simple rejuvenation tonic, Noah went through the motions.

A pinch of dried myrrh, a measure of distilled essence, a drop of honey to balance bitterness. The mixture frothed, hissed, and collapsed into a dead sludge.

The professor sighed audibly but didn’t comment. Noah ignored him. Instead, his eyes wandered around the classroom.

Several seats were empty. Some Gold-tier students who were supposed to be here weren’t.

Noah didn’t miss that detail. Absence was its own kind of note, and he filed it away with the intent to use it later.

By the time the class ended, the air reeked of herbs. And failure. Noah cleaned his bench with care, going through the motions while his mind was on something else.

The moment the bell chimed, he was out of there.

He made his way through campus, away from the cafeteria, to somewhere more important. The only place he could get out of some classes without it turning into a big deal.

Cecilia’s office was lit with warm golden light when he knocked. She looked up from her desk as he entered, pausing what she was writing.

"Noah," she said, her tone softer than most professors ever used. "I wasn’t expecting you today. Anything wrong? Our team meetings start tomorrow."

"Yeah, there’s something I want to talk to you about."

Her brow furrowed, and he stepped forward, setting his satchel on the chair before lowering himself into the opposite seat.

"I want to talk about my classes," he said.

Her head tilted. "Go on."

He leaned back, hands folded. "Alchemy is useless to me. And also, Pedigree & Etiquette, with Diplomacy & Rhetoric are also useless."

"They waste time I could be using on things that matter. Things like combat. Magic. Real growth. I don’t need to know which fork to use at a noble dinner."

Cecilia studied him for a few seconds, her expression carefully blank. Her fingers tapped once against her parchment as she thought about it.

"You’re wrong," she finally said. "At least about two of them. Etiquette and Diplomacy will matter, whether you believe it or not."

"When nobles call for you, and they will, you need the tools to hold your ground without it leading to a fight. Power alone won’t protect you if you’re blindsided by politics. So, it’s better for you to have the skill and not need it, than to need it and not have it."

Noah clenched his jaw. His shadows muttered in irritation around him. He wanted to argue, to tell her politics could burn with the rest of Camelot, but he swallowed it down.

Cecilia continued. "Alchemy, however..." She exhaled. "If you can secure potions from others, if you have allies or suppliers to craft what you need, then yes. I see no reason to force you into something that wastes your time. I’ll authorize your withdrawal."

Noah blinked.

"But," she added, "the others remain. No debate."

He held her gaze a moment longer. Then he nodded once, letting it go. "Fine."

A faint smile tugged her lips. "Good. Then we’re agreed." She bent back over her parchment.

Noah rose. "Thank you, Professor."

Her eyes flicked up. "Don’t thank me yet. Use the time well. I’ll expect results."

He gave a small nod and left, shutting the door softly behind him.

[][][][][]

The cafeteria buzzed with life when he entered. As usual, the loud sounds of hundreds of conversations filled the air.

Noah collected his tray of food and moved to an empty table by the window.

He ate slowly, trying to enjoy his lunch, his spoon scraping quietly against the bowl.

Until he saw them.

Leo Hargreaves and Galahad Lawless sat together at a nearby table, laughing over their food like the world hadn’t buried their sins.

If a stranger was looking at them, they would assume Leo and Galahad were childhood friends, based on the camaraderie on display.

Noah’s hand tightened around his spoon. His shadows hissed with hunger, coiling in the corners of his vision.

They thought themselves safe. They thought what happened in the monolith was forgotten, buried under the academy’s routines and the nobles’ politics.

Noah’s lips curled slowly into a grin, one that held no warmth at all.

He hadn’t forgiven nor forgotten.

He finished his stew, tearing the bread into neat pieces and swallowing each with relish. The grin never left his face.

Two new spells thrummed inside him, hidden and dangerous, waiting to be unleashed. Pillar of Judgement. Void Bolt. Weapons no one knew he possessed.

His revenge would not be loud. It would be like a surgeon cutting out rot from a body. He would bleed them of everything they valued before the end.

Noah set his spoon down, wiped his mouth with the cloth, and stood. His tray clattered faintly as he returned it.

He stepped outside the cafeteria, a grin on his face. The sun was high in the air, slowly warming the wet ground. Students crossed the courtyard in clusters, deep in conversation.

Noah turned away, heading to his next destination, his shadows whispering plans into his ears.

Practical Magic awaited.

Then, he would start with Galahad Lawless.

After all, they had a common link.

Osiris.