CHAPTER 42: THE ORDER OF AVASTHĀNA

Inside the Headmistress’s office.

After the incident was resolved, the injured students had been transferred to the infirmary.

The bodies of the dead were also handled quietly, but the weight of their loss lingered in the air.

Isabel sat behind her desk, her silver eyes fixed on the cube resting on the table before her.

Her gaze was cold, her expression unreadable.

The artifact glowed faintly, its runes inscribed in ancient patterns.

"No wonder," she muttered softly.

"Not a single professor could enter the dungeon. This is a Tier VI artifact. It can seize control of any dungeon from Rank F to Rank B... as long as the location coordinates are known."

She sighed, shaking her head.

"Even a Mystic Sovereign Rank like you could not force entry..."

Her eyes shifted to the man standing silently before her desk.

Arthur Thorne. Deputy Headmaster of Arcadia Academy. His black hair was streaked with silver, his dark-silver grey eyes contrasting with Isabel’s crystal-silver ones.

Arthur’s expression was calm, but the tension on his face betrayed his thoughts.

"It’s fortunate that you arrived in time, Headmistress. If you were just a little later... I don’t know what might have happened."

Isabel’s voice carried bitterness.

"If I had been faster, maybe I could have avoided the students’ deaths."

Her gaze turned colder.

"Eleven students died today, Arthur. And the traitor behind it all was one of our own professors. How can we face their parents now?"

Arthur remained silent. His expression hardened, disappointment clear in his eyes—disappointment in himself.

Even though Arcadia was protected by a Mythborn, students had still died.

Even he, the Deputy Headmaster, had been powerless. All because of a single powerful artifact.

And now, the academy would face questions. Scrutiny. Investigations from powerful people who would demand answers.

Arthur broke the silence.

"Headmistress... did you learn who was behind this? Who Charles was working for?"

Isabel’s lips tightened.

"He didn’t say. Before he could reveal anything, his body self-detonated."

Arthur gave a short nod, already expecting that answer. But Isabel continued.

"However... I caught a glimpse of something before he exploded. A magic rune glowed on his body. It was ancient... forbidden in this era. I had seen it once before, in an old scripture."

Her fingers tapped lightly against the desk as she spoke.

"It belongs to and used by one of the most ancient organizations."

Arthur frowned.

"Which organization?"

Isabel met his gaze. Her tone was sharp.

"The Order of Avasthāna."

Arthur’s eyes widened in shock.

"That’s impossible. Wasn’t that organization active during the Fourth Era? They vanished by its end. Why would they suddenly reappear now, after so many centuries?"

He knew the name well. The Order of Avasthāna—one of the most dangerous and mysterious groups of the Fourth Era.

Records claimed they possessed multiple Mythborn among their ranks. Whether myth or truth, no one truly knew. But everyone feared them.

Isabel’s silence stretched for a moment before she spoke again.

"I don’t know. Even in the Fourth Era, they were elusive. No one knew their true goals. Then, without warning, they disappeared... ending all activity."

Her silver eyes narrowed.

"Those runes are forbidden in this era. Almost no one even recognizes them anymore. It’s possible this is a different group using their symbol... but I don’t think so."

Her voice lowered, bitter.

"Why they targeted Arcadia, and why they tried to kill children, I still don’t understand. What do they gain from it?"

Arthur remained still, waiting.

Isabel exhaled softly, then gave her order.

"Arthur investigate it. Gather as much information as you can about the Order of Avasthāna from any record we have. Whether it’s them or an imitation, I want to know everything."

Arthur bowed lightly.

"As you command, Headmistress. I will devote all my effort."

Without another word, he turned and left the office.

Isabel remained seated, her gaze drifting toward the window.

Outside, the academy grounds were calm, a peaceful night sky blanketing the city.

Her eyes were sharp, calculating.

"So it begins... after all these years of peace."

She muttered softly, her words carrying a weight that only she understood.

---

Amon’s eyelids twitched, then slowly fluttered open.

A blinding white ceiling filled his vision. The cold air pricked his skin, and a dull ache spread across his entire body.

Every muscle screamed in protest, though the pain felt distant, like it was muffled under water.

’Where... am I?’

He tried to move, but his body refused to obey. His chest throbbed, his ribs burned, and every breath came with effort.

Then, a quiet, cold voice came from beside him.

"Don’t move. You’re in the infirmary."

Amon slowly shifted his gaze.

On the bed next to him lay Arnold. His body was heavily bandaged, arms in slings, and a thick cloth wrapped around his brow.

Even injured, his eyes were sharp and calm, watching Amon carefully.

Relief washed over Amon.

"Arnold..." he whispered.

Before he could say anything else, another voice chimed in, carrying its usual arrogance.

"So, the commoner finally wakes up."

Amon turned his head the other way. Marcus was lying flat on another bed, most of his chest wrapped in heavy bandages.

One of his legs was suspended in a sling. Despite his condition, the boy still spoke with his usual confidence.

Amon chuckled faintly.

"Damn... you’re still alive, Marcus. Good to see you too."

He forced a smile despite the pain radiating from his bandaged chest and ribs.

Marcus clicked his tongue.

"Tsk. Still smiling after nearly getting beaten to death. You’re impossible."

But beneath the annoyance, there was a trace of relief on his face.

Amon’s gaze drifted past Marcus. Across the room, Eliana rested quietly. Compared to the others, she looked in much better condition.

Not far from her was Seraphina. Bandages wrapped around her side, her golden hair spilling loosely over her shoulders. Her eyes widened the moment she noticed Amon.

"Hey, Sera," Amon said with a weak grin.

"Good to see you’re okay."

Seraphina let out a faint sigh.

"Yes. It’s good to see you awake. You’ve been unconscious for an entire day."

Amon blinked in surprise, but quickly accepted it.

’Makes sense. I nearly died, after all.’

Beside Seraphina sat Aisha, her posture relaxed and her expression bored. But the moment she noticed Amon’s gaze, her red eyes flicked to meet his.

"Still alive, huh? Not bad."

Her tone was flat, but for her, it was like she gave Amon a compliment.

Even though it didn’t feel like one.

Amon chuckled lightly.

"Thanks, Aisha."

She looked away without another word.

In the same row, Rock and a few other students lay resting, their injuries still visible.

Amon suddenly remembered.

"Where are Amelia and Neil?"

Aisha answered casually.

"They were in much better condition. Nothing serious, so they were discharged yesterday."

Amon let out a long breath, finally relaxing. Knowing they were safe lifted a weight off his chest.

For the first time since the dungeon... he allowed himself to rest.