The platform vanished between one blink and the next, and Adam found himself surrounded by the deep red walls of Haldris' hall. The golden rims of the paintings lining them glistened like treasures at the periphery of his vision, but he ignored them this time.

His eyes, beneath furrowed brows, were on Haldris' ageless face. Though a fresh scent of damask roses lingered, he felt the air thicken as he inhaled.

"You wanted a private talk." Haldris broke the silence first, his calm voice slightly amused. "You have it, even though I hope you're not backing out of your bet with Teacher Grimhilde."

Adam shook his head. "I came for something else, Teacher Haldris—a question about constructs."

The question hung in the air as Haldris frowned. For a moment, a heavy silence stretched. Then, Haldris sighed with something approaching disappointment. "Constructs?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "It'll be Teacher Viktor's pleasure to answer any inquiries you have about constructs." He waved his hand. "If there is nothing else—"

"Wait!" Adam interrupted before Haldris sent him back, words flowing out of his mouth. "I don't mean regular constructs, but ancient golems designed for battles. I've already asked a few teachers, but all they could tell me was about their roles as enforcers before you abandoned the project to repurpose them as miners."

Taking a deep breath after his long sentence, he watched Haldris' hand freeze mid-movement, then reach for his gray beard, which he stroked thoughtfully.

"Mhh. Golems designed for battle, you say? We haven't produced those since the end of the war." He leaned forward, his single eye glowing. "I wonder where you heard and why you want to know about them?"

"So they indeed existed," Adam answered without blinking. "I have an interest in enchantment. In fact, it's one of the disciplines I enjoy most."

When he could have continued his explanation, he simply stopped, trusting Haldris to make up his own story from these truths.

As expected, the college rector nodded as if he had understood everything. "Are you planning to build your own golem?"

"I don't have such great ambitions." Adam instantly shook his head. "I'm more interested in how they're built, what makes them react, and their weaknesses."

He maintained eye contact with Haldris as the rector's frown deepened. Another silence settled between them before the answer came in a pitch dry like sun-seared timber.

"How would that knowledge serve you and why now?"

With a deep breath, Adam crossed his arms over his chest. "The cultivators have war puppets as powerful as magi. Even if they're slightly different, they're close enough to golems for me to derive weaknesses." His voice grew gloomier. "I don't know if this knowledge will ever serve me, but at least I'll have it at the ready if the worst happens."

"Hope for the best while preparing for the worst, isn't it?" Haldris' voice softened, and he leaned back. "Good, but I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. Our golems have never reached the magus rank by design. I'm sure you can understand why during wartime."

Adam took a moment to ponder the question. His face darkened when he answered. "Hijacking."

Haldris nodded. "If we had lost control of golems as powerful as our main force, we would have been finished, so we built them with subtle flaws."

Yet, the revelation only made Adam's frown deepen. This made no sense, but... no shift in micro expressions, gaze steady, and back straight. Haldris was either the best liar he had ever met, even better than Gaston, or truly didn't know about the golem in the Reward Hall.

A conflicted grimace tugged at his lips, his mind torn between relief that the rector knew nothing about what he had been up to, and frustration at his failure. The golem's weakness remained a mystery, and so its existence became. Who had built a magus golem only to leave it in a room that only opened to Desmond? Did it fight during the war, or was it even older?

Thinking about war, who did the exorcists fight back then?

He raised his face, but before he could ask, Haldris shook his head as if he had read an open book.

"You're not privy to know until Teacher Salem takes you into his class."

"Noted." Adam sighed. "So, no advice against hostile constructs?"

"Blast them to bits if they're weaker than you. Retreat if you can't." Haldris shrugged. "I can't give you any better advice without knowing their abilities and enhancements. If you knew who crafted them, things would be different."

He clapped his hands, his voice weary. "Anyway, this discussion extended longer than necessary. Ask your teachers if you have other inquiries. Not that I dislike you, but my schedule is a little busier than theirs, and I'm sure you understand the rector isn't someone you consult over trivial matters."

It wasn't an insult, just a fact—perhaps a reminder Adam understood. He nodded, adapting to Haldris' title. "Thank you for your time, Rector Haldris."

The next moment, the wind ruffled his hair and the scent of nectar from the plain filled his nose. The hovering platform cast a shadow over his frowning face as he bit his lip.

A hand met his shoulder, and when he turned, he saw Desmond's purple eyes sparkle. "Did he tell you about the golem's weakness?" The teenager asked without wasting words, almost chanting.

Adam shook his head, words meaningless when their chance had just gone up in ashes.

But Desmond merely shrugged. "Doesn't matter. As you said, we can just create one."

"It's not that simple, Desmond." Adam closed his eyes, exhaling heavily. Then he continued. "Don't you realise that a single wrong move will spell our doom?"

"So?" A furrow creased Desmond's brow. "Do we just give up? After almost dying at the golem once and alienating Teacher Louis?" His lips twisted in a snort. "Didn't know you'd fake concern to chicken out."

"Watch your words, Desmond." Adam narrowed his eyes into slits pulsing with mana. "Who do you think is most likely to die if we face it? You or me? Are you ready to risk it all on a wild gamble for what? We don't even know! If I could touch it long enough, perhaps. But you've seen its overbearing strength. Damn it! If we were outside..."

His next words caught in his throat, and his eyes widened as the missing pieces fell into place.

"What? Not going to continue?" Desmond harrumphed, crossing his arms over his warming chest.

But Adam's lips only curved. "Haldris doesn't know about the room—he can't feel it."

"Great news. How does it help?"

Adam smirked at Desmond's question, then walked toward the Reward Hall, waving. "It changes everything. We have twelve days to prepare. Let's make them count."

Desmond followed behind, brow knitted in confusion. He asked several times as they crossed the garden and entered the hall. But even after they reached Teacher Louis' office and then entered the corridor housing the college's riches, Adam never answered.

When they stood before the crudely studded door, tasked with bringing a handful of vials to Louis' office, Adam spoke. "Open the door and stay outside."

"No matter what you say, I'm coming." Desmond shook his head, his chest tightening. "Listen. I know I went a bit overboard earlier and that you truly care for me, but so do I for you. Trust me. I have your back."