CHAPTER 180: THE MASTER AT THE DOOR!

Daniel stood with his newly formed team, a strange and potent assembly of Astralis Academy’s finest senior students.

The wasteland around them seemed to go on forever, a dry, cracked land swept by winds that smelled of ozone and far-off storms.

Gideon Anubis, the towering Divine Shield, loomed over the group like a living fortress.

His skin was the color of sun-baked stone, and his massive build was encased in reinforced combat gear, the insignia of Astralis Academy gleaming on his shoulder armor.

Despite his intimidating appearance, his grin was easy, his dark eyes warm.

Beside him, Nicklaus Ironborn stood with the quiet, coiled intensity of a predator.

His silver hair was cropped short, and his piercing blue eyes missed nothing.

His hands rested near the twin energy blades at his hips, their humming cores barely audible beneath the wind.

He was a man of few words, but when he spoke, the others listened.

And then there was Amara Nnaji, the number one Nurse of Astralis Academy.

Her presence was a balm against the wasteland’s oppressive aura.

Her dark skin glowed faintly with an inner light, and her golden eyes shimmered with warmth.

She wore a flowing white coat over her combat suit, the sleeves embroidered with healing runes that pulsed softly with energy.

Daniel exhaled, steeling himself. The real challenge was about to begin.

Just as Gideon took a step toward the dilapidated house, their supposed meeting point with the Spatial Array Master, a new sound cut through the shrieking wind.

It was a high-pitched, aggressive hum, like the scream of a blade cutting through the air.

In the distance, a glint of shimmering yellow light appeared, quickly sharpening into a sleek, lightning-fast sports car that looked more like a piece of solidified magic than a machine.

It tore across the barren ground, leaving a swirling cloud of dust in its wake.

"Incoming!" Nicklaus called out, his voice sharp and alert.

The car, a custom-built Aether-Runner X9, was a marvel of arcane engineering.

Its body gleamed with embedded mana crystals, and its engine roared like a trapped beast.

With a final, earsplitting screech, it pulled off a flawless drift and stopped just meters away.

Its gull-wing doors rose like the wings of a predatory insect, revealing the fifth member of their team.

The dust cloud, thick and choking, rolled toward them.

Daniel, reacting with practiced instinct, simply raised a hand.

A controlled gust of win, a minor application of his C-grade [Wind Control] erupted from his palm.

"Whoosh!"

The wind shrieked for a moment, forming a small, invisible barrier that effortlessly parted the dust cloud, sending it swirling harmlessly around their group.

A woman stepped out of the car, her movements sharp and precise.

Her long blonde hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and her amethyst eyes glinted with cold contempt.

Her outfit, a black leather corset and skirt combo, was both stylish and functional, lined with subtle reinforcement runes.

She crossed her arms, surveying them with a look that could freeze magma.

"Mediocre,"she stated, her voice as cold as her gaze. "Your control over the wind element is clumsy, Freshman.

Barely enough to clear dust. Let’s hope your combat skills aren’t as pathetically underdeveloped.

Don’t be a deadweight and drag the rest of us down."

This, Daniel knew from his data-chip, was Selene Veyl, the fifth and final member of their team.

A prodigy in spatial manipulation, she was infamous for her ruthless efficiency and even more ruthless tongue.

They called her the Witch of the West Spire, not just for her power, but for her ability to verbally dismantle anyone foolish enough to challenge her.

Before anyone could respond to her charming introduction, their attention was drawn to the front porch of the small house.

An old man sat there in a rocking chair, his form frail, his white hair thin and wispy.

He was humming an off-key tune and carving a small piece of wood with a rusty-looking knife, seemingly oblivious to their presence.

Gideon, ever the straightforward giant, lumbered forward with a booming laugh.

"Hey there, gramps! We’re looking for the spatial array master! Seen anyone like that around? Big, important-looking fella?"

The old man didn’t look up from his carving.

"Nope. Ain’t seen nobody like that. Just me and the dust bunnies."*

Gideon frowned, scratching his head. "Well, that’s a bust. Guess the old man’s a bit senile. Let’s check inside the house."

He made to push past the old man, but Nicklaus, his sharp eyes narrowed, held up a hand. "Gideon, wait."

It was then that Daniel, whose S-Grade [Aura Sense+] was a silent, constant sentinel, felt a profound, chilling stillness emanate from the old man.

His aura, which had been as faint and unassuming as a sleeping mouse, suddenly felt as deep and unknowable as the void between stars.

He wasn’t just a harmless old man, he was a master of disguise, his power buried beneath a well-crafted façade of normalcy.

"You," the old man said, finally looking up from his piece of wood.

His eyes, which had been milky and unfocused, were now as sharp and clear as polished diamonds, and they were fixed on Gideon with a look of pure and raw annoyance.

"You, the big, loud, muscle-headed oaf. Do I look like a receptionist to you?"

Gideon blinked. "Uh... no? You look like a gramps."

The old man’s eyes narrowed further. "I, you bumbling fool, am the spatial array master you’re looking for."

And thanks to your stunning lack of basic respect and observational skills, your little expedition to the legendary Silvershade Realm is officially cancelled.

I am the only one who holds the key, and I have suddenly decided that the lock is feeling very, very secure today."

A wave of absolute panic washed over the team.

Amara gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

"No... the Silvershade Realm is our only chance to retrieve the Everfrost Aetherium!"

Selene’s arrogant smirk vanished, replaced by a mask of horrified disbelief.

"You can’t be serious."

Even the usually composed Nicklaus took an involuntary step back, his face pale.

"This mission was sanctioned by the Principal himself."

The old man just scoffed, returning to his carving with an air of finality.

"The Principal can carve his own key. My door is closed."

The wind picked up again, but this time it felt colder, carrying the weight of their own foolish mistake.

Their rare, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity was about to be snatched away before it had even begun, all because their strongest tank had the diplomatic skills of a charging Stonehide Crusher.

Daniel clenched his fists. If they couldn’t fix this, their mission was over before it started.

And the fate of Astralis Academy hung in the balance.