CHAPTER 55: CHAPTER 55: ASHCROFT’S FINAL ARGUMENT

When he spoke, his voice carried the quiet authority of someone who had spent decades uncovering truths that others preferred to leave buried.

"Gentlemen. Ladies." His words fell into the silence like stones dropped into still water, creating ripples of attention that spread throughout the chamber. "When, precisely, did we begin measuring potential by bloodline rather than ability?"

The question was delivered with such casual precision that it took several moments for its implications to register. Professor Thornwick opened his mouth to respond, but Ashcroft continued before he could speak.

"These assessment results," Ashcroft said, gesturing toward the crystalline display with academic detachment, "indicate that this student achieved what we had previously deemed impossible. The physical examination equipment was destroyed not through crude force but through the application of techniques so advanced that our measurement systems could not comprehend them."

He paused, allowing his words to settle before continuing with the kind of methodical precision that marked him as one of the academy’s most formidable intellects.

"The magical assessment, while placing him ninth overall, required the destruction of both target and scoring apparatus to achieve that ranking as a secondary evaluation, which is ludicrous that he even took that evaluation test! I submit that we are not witnessing mediocrity, but rather capabilities so far beyond our standard measurements that our instruments simply failed."

Professor Thornwick’s face flushed with indignation as he struggled to process what felt like a direct challenge to everything he believed about the natural order. "Ashcroft," he began, his voice carrying the kind of patronizing authority he typically reserved for particularly slow students, "surely you understand the importance of maintaining proper social order. Excellence in technique means nothing without the moral foundation that comes from..."

"Ah yes," Ashcroft interrupted, his voice taking on the kind of cutting precision that made even senior professors shift uncomfortably in their chairs. "Proper social order. Perhaps we should establish separate testing protocols for those of ’inferior’ breeding? Maybe different colored robes to mark them so that our noble students need not risk contamination through proximity?"

The suggestion hung in the air with the weight of academic sarcasm so precisely delivered that it left its targets unable to respond without confirming exactly what Ashcroft was implying about their attitudes.

"How delightfully..." Ashcroft paused, allowing the silence to stretch until the tension became almost unbearable, "... Savage of you, Magnus."

The word ’Savage’ was delivered with such cutting precision that it seemed to physically impact its target. Professor Thornwick’s face cycled through several shades of red as he struggled to formulate a response that wouldn’t confirm Ashcroft’s characterization while also defending his position.

Professor Valdris attempted to rescue her ally from the intellectual trap. "Ashcroft," she said, her voice carrying the kind of diplomatic smoothness that had served her well in academic politics, "surely you’re not suggesting that bloodline carries no significance? That centuries of careful breeding and education count for nothing?"

Ashcroft turned his attention to her with the kind of clinical focus he typically reserved for particularly interesting research specimens. "I’m suggesting, Seraphina, that when faced with demonstrated excellence, we should perhaps prioritize capability over pedigree." His voice carried the authority of someone who had spent decades studying phenomena that defied conventional understanding. "Unless, of course, you’re prepared to argue that our assessment methods are so fundamentally flawed that they can be overcome through mere trickery?"

The implication was clear, either their testing protocols were valid and the student had demonstrated genuine excellence, or the academy’s entire evaluation system was so poorly designed that it could be fooled by an untrained Dra’kesh. Neither conclusion supported the opposition’s position.

Cassius cleared his throat, recognizing the need to restore some semblance of productive discussion. "Professor Ashcroft, while your points have merit, we must consider the practical implications. How do you propose we address the legitimate concerns about institutional reputation?"

Ashcroft gathered his materials with deliberate calm, his movements suggesting that he had reached a decision that would reshape the entire dynamic of the discussion. "I will take responsibility for this student," he announced, his voice carrying the kind of quiet authority that made formal proclamations unnecessary. "He will be under my direct mentorship, enrolled in the Sanctum of Forbidden Knowledge."

The declaration hit the chamber like a physical force. Ashcroft’s offer wasn’t merely academic support, it was a formal assumption of responsibility that would bind his own reputation to the student’s success or failure.

Professor Valdris leaned forward, her political instincts recognizing the magnitude of what had just occurred. "Ashcroft," she said, her voice carrying genuine concern beneath its diplomatic smoothness, "this will ruin the academy’s reputation. The board will..."

"On the contrary, Seraphina," Ashcroft interrupted, his tone suggesting that he had already considered and dismissed such concerns. "True scholarship recognizes excellence regardless of its source. Perhaps some of you have forgotten what we’re supposed to represent."

The implication hung unspoken but clear, that the institution’s commitment to learning had been compromised by social prejudices that had nothing to do with academic excellence.

As Ashcroft moved toward the chamber’s exit, he paused at the doorway and turned back to address his colleagues one final time. "The boy has demonstrated more courage and ability in one day than most of our ’noble’ students show in their entire academic careers." His voice carried the kind of quiet certainty that made the argument seem pointless. "I suggest you prepare yourselves. This is only the beginning of what he’s capable of."

The door closed behind him with a soft click that seemed to echo through the chamber with unusual finality. The silence that followed was profound, heavy with the weight of institutional change and the recognition that something fundamental had shifted in the academy’s carefully maintained social order.

Professor Thornwick was the first to break the silence, his voice carrying the kind of grim certainty usually reserved for predicting natural disasters. "This will not end well," he muttered, more to himself than to his colleagues.

Near the back of the chamber, Instructor Lyra Nightwhisper allowed herself a small smile that spoke of professional interest rather than political concern. Unlike her colleagues, she found herself curious about what kind of student could generate such controversy simply by demonstrating excellence.

As one of the academy’s premier combat instructors, she had witnessed countless displays of martial prowess from students whose noble bloodlines guaranteed them admission regardless of their actual capabilities. The idea of teaching someone who had achieved genuine excellence rather than inherited expectation was... intriguing.

Senior Staff Member Cassius looked around the chamber at the faces of his colleagues, reading the mixture of resignation, concern, and lingering outrage that marked the end of the evening’s discussion. "The student’s admission stands," he announced, his voice carrying the authority of administrative finality. "Professor Ashcroft’s sponsorship provides sufficient academic backing for enrollment in the Sanctum of Forbidden Knowledge."

Professor Ashwood’s expression suggested that she was witnessing the end of civilization as she knew it. "The board will hear of this," she said, though her tone lacked the conviction of someone who believed such threats would change anything.

"I’m certain they will," Cassius replied with the diplomatic neutrality that had kept him in administrative positions for over two decades. "Tomorrow’s orientation ceremony will proceed as scheduled. I trust that all faculty members will maintain appropriate professional standards regardless of their personal opinions."

The dismissal was implicit but clear. As professors began gathering their materials and filing out of the chamber, conversations fragmented into small groups whose heated whispers spoke of an institution grappling with unprecedented change.

Through the tall windows, the evening sky had deepened to full darkness, while the seven sanctums of Astralux Academy stood illuminated against the night like beacons of knowledge. Somewhere within those towering spires, forces were stirring that would reshape not just the academy’s social dynamics but the very nature of the education it provided.

The Faculty’s Dilemma had been resolved, but the consequences of that resolution were only beginning to unfold.