CHAPTER 119: CHAPTER: 119 THE CONFERENCE.[3]

Vivian rose to his feet with the same steady calm he had carried since the beginning.

"Number 9862," he said, "refers to Professor Garhard Retrakes."

"He is a Swordmaster of the empire... and a professor in the swordsmanship department."

The name landed like a hammer.

Every official who hadn’t heard it before stiffened in shock.

A few who had known... looked even worse, as if their secrets had just been dragged into the sunlight.

For a moment, the hall froze.

No one dared breathe too loudly.

Then the whispers started.

"Wait—Garhard? Isn’t he related to your family?" an official muttered to the man beside him.

The man jolted in his seat like someone had poked him with a hot iron.

"Don’t say that here," he hissed. "Not now."

But whispers have a habit of spreading.

Another official leaned in from the side.

"Why not? You used to brag about it all the time. Didn’t you hold a feast when your sister married him?"

The man’s face turned red in an instant.

"That....That was different! How was I supposed to know this would happen?"

Though Vivian hadn’t explained anything about him yet, the officials already felt their stomachs drop.

The moment that name came out of Vivian’s mouth, they understood this wasn’t going anywhere good.

Vivian waited until the last bits of whispering faded, the hall settling again into that tight, strained silence.

When he finally spoke, his voice was steady.

"You might be wondering how he’s connected to this. So let me answer it clearly. He tried to kill me... and Her Highness, Princess Charlotte."

The words slammed into the room.

Gasps broke out everywhere, sharp and loud.

A few officials even stood halfway up before catching themselves.

Trying to kill a noble was already a grave crime... but trying to kill the princess?

That crossed every line the empire had.

There was no trial, no mercy, no debate for something like that.

The punishment was simple: death.

A wave of disbelief and outrage rolled through the hall.

Even the officials who had been whispering about family ties a moment ago now looked pale.

Vivian continued as if he hadn’t just dropped a thunderbolt.

"It started a few months ago," he said.

"I noticed Kafrik and the professor acting strange."

It was a clean lie.

Kafrik and Garhard had acted perfectly normal.

Calm. Professional. Like they didn’t even know each other.

But who in this hall would dare question him now?

No one.

Anyone who tried would only put a rope around their own neck by looking like they wanted to defend the criminals.

So the lie landed smoothly, without resistance.

"After I noticed it," Vivian went on, "I began watching them closely. And soon, I realized they were planning something outrageous."

More murmurs rippled through the officials, quieter this time, filled with dread instead of curiosity.

The idea of a professor and a duke’s son plotting together was already bad.

But plotting to kill a princess... that sent their minds running to darker possibilities.

Vivian’s calm delivery only made the tension thicker, as if the hall itself was holding its breath, waiting for the next truth to fall like another strike of lightning.

"So when I realized they were planning to kill us," Vivian said.

"I didn’t show anything on the surface. I knew proving it would be almost impossible. And at that time, I had already reached the 5th star."

Another clean, harmless lie.

He hadn’t reached the 5th star back then.

He only managed it two months before the mid-term exams.

But the hall had already accepted every word he said as law.

Nobody would dare question dates, numbers, or details now, not when the story itself was already frightening enough.

Vivian carried on as if everything lined up perfectly.

"Still, I had some confidence. With Charlotte by my side, I believed we could stop the attacker, capture him, and finally get real answers."

Some people turned their eyes toward the princess.

Charlotte’s face was stiff, but there was no denial in her expression.

Her silence alone became part of the story, proof that Vivian wasn’t lying.

He spoke again.

"Time passed, and soon the mid-term exams arrived. By then, I was already at the peak of the 5th star. I could be considered a pseudo-Swordmaster."

This part was true enough.

And that made it even easier for the officials to accept.

"From their letters, the ones I copied whenever I got the chance, I learned they planned to kill us during the exams."

A few men in the back almost flinched.

The idea of a noble child and a professor passing messages right under everyone’s nose was terrifying in its own way.

How deep had this gone?

How much had they missed?

"So," Vivian said, "I hid my cultivation and followed their plan."

This time, the hall reacted openly.

Shock.

Admiration.

Even a hint of awe.

A young man, still technically a student, walking straight into a trap that could kill him, just to uncover a conspiracy.

Many officials exchanged looks.

Some nodded slowly.

Others whispered to the people beside them, stunned by the sheer nerve it must have taken.

One older official sighed under his breath.

"To enter danger knowingly... that’s bravery."

Another shook his head.

"Bravery and foolishness, it could be said that he was lucky that he didn’t died."

The hall didn’t doubt him, didn’t even think to.

Vivian’s calm voice and steady posture made everything sound like a clear, decisive action taken by someone who had no choice but to confront the danger himself.

And now that they believed it, their admiration only grew higher, while their fear of the Tramplin plot sank even deeper into their bones.

Vivian stood there, letting the weight of his words settle, knowing the next part would drag the hall even further into the truth, or at least, the version of truth he needed them to see.

"So when we entered the dungeon," Vivian said.

"the professor and Kafrik ambushed us. I dealt with Kafrik right away and knocked him down. But then... something felt strange."

He let his voice trail off for a moment.

The pause caught everyone.

The officials leaned forward without meaning to.

Even the emperor’s eyes sharpened.

"Until the moment I subdued him," Vivian continued,

"the professor didn’t move at all. He just hid. He didn’t help. He didn’t attack. He didn’t even try to escape."

A few jaws dropped.

A professor.

A Swordmaster.

Watching his own ally get beaten and not lifting a finger?

It made no sense, and the officials knew it.

That odd silence in the dungeon now echoed in the hall.

Vivian let their confusion settle before speaking again.

"It was strange," he said.

"Why would the professor stay hidden while Kafrik was being beaten to a pulp?"

He swept his gaze slowly around the hall.

The officials were frozen with their mouths open, like a row of statues someone forgot to paint.

"It was thanks to Her Highness Princess Charlotte," Vivian said, "and her enhanced senses that we found the professor nearby."

Some of the tension around Charlotte softened into respect.

"When we found him, we attacked together," Vivian said.

"But when he appeared... he was different."

Vivian’s tone dropped just a little, not dramatic, just enough to make the room feel a cold ripple.

"Not different in strength," Vivian continued softly.

"Different in behaviour."

A chill ran through the row of officials.

"He didn’t act like the professor we all knew. He felt like... a puppet. Empty. Controlled. Nothing like the man people had respected for years."

Vivian’s voice echoed across the hall, steady and clear.

"And when he appeared, he engaged in battle with us immediately."

A few people pressed their hands against their mouths.

A Swordmaster losing his mind and attacking the heir of the Zenithara House and the princess?

It was almost unthinkable.

"The fight lasted for half a day," Vivian said.

"It was brutal. He was strong, and whatever was controlling him kept pushing him forward without fear or hesitation."

He let out a slow breath.

"But, as you can guess... we managed to defeat him."

Whispers erupted instantly, fearful, shocked, impressed, but Vivian raised a hand and the room quieted.

"That is where the first question is answered," he said.

"The question of why the empire is in danger."

The hall went still.

"Because to explain that," Vivian said, "I need to tell you about my intuition."

Vivian’s declaration dropped into the hall like a pebble into a still lake, small sound, wide ripples.

Intuition was already rare enough.

Awakening it young was even rarer.

Awakening it at fifteen?

That was the sort of feat that made archivists pull old scrolls off dusty shelves just to double-check that history hadn’t quietly rewritten itself overnight.

So the question rattled quietly through every mind present, even the usually stone-faced commander of the royal army, Vikram von Indrath.

The man didn’t show interest often, but now his gaze had sharpened like a blade held to the light.

Vivian continued.

"My intuition is called the Xi Realm."

The hall erupted in confusion.

"Xi Realm?"

"What kind of intuition is that?"

"I’ve never heard of it."

"Is it in the ancient texts?"

"No—never."

Vivian waited patiently until the noise died down.

The truth was simple: the continent’s history was long, vast, and meticulously recorded.

Common intuition types, Dark space, Heart Sense, Ice energy, Soul search, were known by everyone.

Even the rare ones, like Future Glimpse or Thousand thunder physique, were documented, catalogued, studied.

Xi Realm... was not.

No records.

No legends.

Not even a rumor.

A nameless intuition surfacing in the empire’s most dangerous moment...

that alone was enough to breed unease.

Vivian nodded slowly, acknowledging the confusion.