The Veiled Man
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Martial Arts Vs Magic - Chapter 154
🕑 Added 2025-10-09 20:43:55 +0000 UTCChapter 154: Another Princess Hunting Session
Waybound City at night wasn't the same place I remembered.
The cobblestone streets gleamed wet from recent rain, reflecting the warm glow of mana-powered streetlights that hummed with subtle energy.
But beneath that familiar charm, something had shifted. New guard patrols walked routes that hadn't existed before, their armor bearing fresh insignias I didn't recognize. The scent of incense from Holy Knights' blessing ceremonies drifted from every major intersection, thick enough to make my nose itch.
They're scared, I realized, watching from my perch atop the Merchant's Guild tower. Really, genuinely terrified.
The city sprawled before me, a living map of paranoia and hastily erected defenses. Where once students had wandered freely between districts, now checkpoints dotted every major thoroughfare. The taverns that used to stay open until dawn closed their doors early, their windows dark and unwelcoming.
I adjusted my dark long coat while feeling the familiar weight of my old school uniform beneath it. The tie felt strange after months of wearing whatever I pleased in Nevaramis, but there was something oddly nostalgic about it. Like putting on an old mask and remembering who you used to pretend to be.
The disguise might help, even if a little.
My fingers traced the edge of the porcelain mask covering the upper half of my face – a simple thing, white as bone with gold filigree around the eyes. Theatrical, perhaps, but it would serve its purpose. Tonight, I wasn't the Heavenly Demon or the Sovereign of Nevaramis.
Tonight, I was just another shadow in a city full of them.
The Academy loomed in the distance, its familiar spires reaching toward stars that seemed dimmer than I remembered. Even from here, I could see the changes. New defensive arrays that crackled with barely contained lightning, patrol routes that followed patterns designed by someone who actually understood warfare rather than ceremony.
The new Chancellor’s work, I mused, recalling fragments of intelligence from Stratos's network. The man's been busy.
A church bell tolled midnight, its bronze voice carrying across the sleeping city.
Time to move.
I kicked off from the tower's edge, Soul Fire igniting around my body in a corona of invisible light that suppressed my demonic presence to near-invisibility. Without this, even walking around would have been troublesome given my Heavenly Demon Body.
The suppression technique was second nature now – maintaining just enough energy to glide between buildings without creating the blazing spectacle that would bring every Holy Knight in the city running.
The wind whipped through my hair as I bounded from rooftop to rooftop, each landing silent as falling snow. Below, a late patrol trudged through their rounds, completely unaware of the wanted terrorist passing overhead. Their conversation drifted up. I heard their complaints about overtime, speculation about when the Academy being too cautious despite months having passed, worry about families in distant provinces.
Human things, I thought with something that might have been fondness. At least some things never change.
The Academy's outer walls rose before me, thirty feet of enchanted stone that hummed with detection wards I could sense even without activating my Demonic Sphere. But walls were just suggestions to someone who could phase-step through shadows, and wards were merely puzzles waiting to be solved.
I landed in the Academy's main courtyard, my boots touching cobblestones that had witnessed my first stumbling steps toward power. The nostalgic ache hit harder than I'd expected. Memories of Lilian's laughter, Nebula's reluctant smiles, Solara's determined scowl as she mastered her flames. All of those flashed.
Different times, I reflected, scanning the eerily quiet campus. Simpler times, when the biggest threat was a jealous prince and not three Arcane Kings who want my head.
The statue at the courtyard's center caught my attention immediately. Where once had stood a generic monument Amelia in her scholarly charm, now rose a figure I didn't recognize.
The bronze casting was impressive, depicting a man seemingly in his forties with sharp features and an expression of calm authority. He wore simple robes, but the way they were rendered suggested hidden strength beneath. One hand rested on what looked like a staff topped with geometric patterns that hurt to look at directly.
The nameplate read: Chancellor Marcus Thorne, Symbol of Mana and Wisdom.
"Huh." I tilted my head, studying the unfamiliar face. "So Amelia got a replacement."
The news from Nevaramis's intelligence network had mentioned Academy leadership changes, but I hadn't paid close attention to the details. Apparently, I should have. A new Chancellor meant new policies, new security measures, and potentially new problems for my mission. No wonder the atmosphere was so different.
No matter, I decided, turning away from the statue. Amelia could brief me on the politics later. Right now, I had a princess to find.
The question was where. Sathari Nezehra, Princess of Nagadipa, current student of Dragon Tongue Magic under Amelia's tutelage, and hopefully my key to reaching the Arcane King of Aryavarta. In the game, she'd had chambers in the Eastern Tower, but that was before a demon invasion had restructured half the Academy.
My Demonic Sphere wanted to unfold, to map every heartbeat and breath within a mile radius. But I kept it tightly controlled, limited to just enough range to avoid walking into traps. The Demonic Sphere was subtle, but not undetectable in a place with so many wards and powerhouses.
Besides, I didn’t mind a handicap.
I moved through the campus like a memory made flesh, following paths worn smooth by thousands of students across centuries. The dormitories rose before me, their windows dark except for the occasional flicker of candlelight where someone couldn't sleep.
Third floor, corner room, I recalled, counting windows. If the layout hasn't changed too much...
A figure moved behind one of the windows. Serpentine, graceful, unmistakably not human. Perfect.
Time to make contact.
****
Sathari Nezehra coiled herself more comfortably on her study cushions, her serpentine lower body forming neat loops beneath her as she bent over parchment covered in her own careful script.
The Dragon Tongue exercises Professor Duskleaf had assigned were fascinating but brutally difficult. Each of the glyphs required perfect pronunciation in a language that predated human civilization.
"Aethys mor'thak vel'aran," she murmured, practicing the phrase that supposedly meant 'let fire become wisdom.' The words felt strange on her forked tongue, alien in a way that made her jaw ache.
Her room in the Eastern Tower was sparse but comfortable, decorated only with a few personal items from Nagadipa. Namely, a silk artwork depicting the Coral Palace of her home, a collection of rare pearls that had been her grandmother's, and the ceremonial dagger that every naga princess carried. The window offered a view of the Academy grounds, peaceful in the moonlight.
Too peaceful, she thought with a slight frown. Ever since...
She pushed the memory away. The kidnapping was over, the cultists were dead, and Prince Orion had ensured she was safe. But the paranoia lingered like a taste she couldn't quite cleanse from her mouth. Every shadow seemed to hide watchers, every unexpected sound made her reach for the sacred pearl that rested against her forehead.
The Nagamani.
She knew she was being too paranoid, but she couldn’t help it. Humans… humans could be scary. She loved and respected many of them, but she’d seen their dark sides as well. Their greed was shocking. Their hunger for power, too. They wanted her Nagamani, and they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her for it.
Calm yourself, Sathari, she told herself. We’re in peaceful times now.
As if she’d jinxed it, a soft knock fell at her door. It made her flinch and then freeze, quill halfway to the inkwell.
This late? She glanced at the clock. Well past midnight. Perhaps one of the other students needs help with something...
But as she started to rise, her forked tongue flicked out automatically, tasting the air through the gap beneath her door. The Nagamani hummed on her forehead, and her senses enhanced sharply. What she felt made her blood run cold.
Destruction. Demons. Power.
The scents were faint but unmistakable to her enhanced senses – traces of energies that shouldn't exist in the Academy's carefully sanctified halls. Her hand moved instinctively to the Naga Pearl on her forehead, the ancient artifact pulsing with warm light as it responded to her fear.
Through the Pearl's enhanced perception, she could sense something moving outside her window. Not walking but flowing, like liquid shadow given form. The presence radiated a cold intelligence that made her scales ripple with instinctive dread.
Not again, she thought desperately. Please, not again.
The window latch clicked open without anyone touching it.
Sathari's tail lashed as she spun toward the sound, her hands already weaving the opening gestures of her [Serpent's Coil] skill. Ethereal snakes of pure energy began manifesting around her fingers, ready to bind whatever intruder dared enter her sanctuary.
A figure slipped through the window with fluid grace, landing silently on her floor. Tall, wrapped in a dark coat that seemed to drink in the moonlight. A porcelain mask covered the upper half of his face, leaving only a strong jawline visible beneath. But what made her heart race was the uniform visible beneath his coat. A Waybound Academy tie, perfectly knotted despite the late hour.
A student? But what student moves like that, smells like that?
The intruder straightened slowly, and she caught a glimpse of dark hair beneath his hood. Something about his posture, the casual confidence in his movements, struck a chord of memory. The Nagamani recognized him where she didn’t.
"...Iskandaar?" The name escaped her lips as recognition hit like lightning.
He didn’t reply. For a long moment, they simply stared at each other. Her magic crackled between her fingers, ready to strike. His hands remained at his sides, unthreatening but somehow far more dangerous for their stillness.
Then he reached up and pulled away the mask.
"Damn," he said with a crooked smile, shaking his head ruefully. "I thought you'd misunderstand and think I'm your kidnapper or something. This makes it easier."
Relief and confusion warred in her chest. The ethereal snakes dissolved as her concentration broke, leaving her staring at possibly the most infamous student in Academy history. "What are you doing here?" she managed. "If the Professors find out…”
"Amelia sent me to take you," he said simply, as if that explained everything.
The casual way he referred to their Professor – not Chancellor Duskleaf or Professor, just Amelia – reminded her of the rumors she’d heard. Apparently, the Chancellor and Iskandaar were lovers. He’d gone against her father, the Sahrazzakhan, and abducted her from right under his nose. That’s so strange.
Sathari respected all sorts of love stories, but a teacher-student relationship felt like a taboo to her. She grew up in a place where a mentor was like a third parent, so she felt confused when she heard the rumors. What did the Chancellor see in him?
Given all the impossible stories surrounding him, perhaps he’s somehow manipulating Amelia? She formed a theory of her own in her head. Combined with his impossible entrance, the demonic scents clinging to him, and the fact that he’d been hiding for months after the massacre in Merasca…
"I don't trust you," she said, her training kicking in. Her tail coiled beneath her, preparing to spring.
His expression shifted from amused to resigned. "Of course you don't. Fair enough."
The tension in the room exploded into motion.
Sathari struck first, her tail whipping forward with viper-quick precision aimed at his center mass. But where she expected to hit flesh, she found only empty air. He simply wasn't there anymore.
[Viper's Kiss] followed immediately, targeted bursts of neurotoxic magic racing toward where she thought he'd appear. The green energy sizzled through the air, powerful enough to paralyze a dragon, but again found nothing but shadows. The walls melted.
How is he so fast?
[Serpent's Coil] manifested as a dozen ethereal pythons, each one seeking to bind and constrict. They spread through her room like a living net, impossible to dodge completely. But Iskandaar moved like he was dancing with them, sliding between coils that should have caught him, always one step ahead of her attacks.
"Impressive," his voice came from behind her, and she spun with a hiss of alarm. "But you're thinking too linearly."
[Miasma Cloud] erupted from her Nagamani in desperation, filling the room with toxic purple fog designed to disorient and weaken. She breathed in the poison to empower herself and struck again, tail and claws seeking any target.
Nothing. Just the sound of his steady breathing, unaffected by poison that could fell a dozen men.
This is impossible, she thought frantically. He's not even trying!
And that was the terrifying truth she was beginning to grasp. Every attack she threw at him was met not with counter-attacks or defensive techniques, but simple evasion. He was playing with her, demonstrating a level of skill that made her decades of training feel like a child's game.
When her latest [Serpent's Coil] dissolved uselessly, she found herself pressed against the far wall, scales heaving with exhaustion and terror. He stood in the center of her room, not even breathing hard, hands still at his sides.
"Calm down, Princess," he said gently. "I really don't mean any harm."
But it was too late for calm words. Her survival instincts, honed by recent trauma, had already triggered the emergency beacon hidden in her jewelry box. The enchanted crystal flared with brilliant light, sending an alert through every security ward in the Academy.
Iskandaar's eyes widened as alarms began blaring throughout the tower. He frowned. "That's... not good."
Magical sirens wailed to life, their sound designed to wake every student and summon every guard within miles. Emergency lights bathed the campus in harsh red as defensive arrays activated one by one.
"Sorry," Sathari whispered, even as part of her felt vindicated. "But I've been kidnapped before."
"Yeah, you told me about that last time too." His expression had shifted to something between annoyance and genuine concern. "Look, this is going to be awkward to explain, but–"
He moved faster than she could track, fingers finding a pressure point on her neck with surgical precision. Her vision went dark as consciousness fled, but the last thing she saw was his face. Not cruel or victorious, but oddly apologetic.
At least, was her final thought as darkness claimed her, Prince Orion will come for me again…
****
Well, shit.
I cradled Sathari's unconscious form against my chest as I dropped from her window, my Demonic Sphere finally snapping to full awareness. There was no point in pretending to be subtle.
The Academy had transformed into a hornet's nest in the span of thirty seconds. Guards poured from the barracks, professors emerged from their quarters with magic already crackling around their hands, and overhead, I could hear the distinctive sound of aerial patrols taking flight.
Why didn't I just send a letter? I wondered grimly as I landed in the courtyard shadows. 'Dear Princess, please trust the internationally wanted terrorist.' Would have gone so much better.
The sphere painted a tactical map in my mind – seven guard squads converging on the Eastern Tower, three professors moving to establish a perimeter, and something much more concerning approaching from the faculty residences. A presence that moved with the fluid grace of absolute confidence, leaving ripples of lightning-charged mana in its wake.
I shifted Sathari's weight and began moving, using [Void Step] to phase through the gaps in their search pattern. I have to leave the Academy complex fast, I planned. Nevaramis’ Bifrost won’t be able to detect me through these wards and defensive magic.
The princess was surprisingly light, her serpentine body coiling naturally against me in unconsciousness. Under different circumstances, I might have appreciated how her shiny amethyst scales caught the moonlight, or noted the way her face looked peaceful despite the chaos surrounding us.
Right now, I was too busy trying not to get us both killed.
A guard patrol rounded the corner ahead, their captain scanning the area with the methodical precision of someone who'd clearly dealt with supernatural threats before. I pressed back against the library's stone wall, grateful for the shadows cast by its flying buttresses.
"Movement in the East Wing confirmed," the captain was saying into a communication crystal. "Unknown intruder, possibly the same party responsible for the Nezehra incident. Requesting backup from–"
I phased past them while they were distracted by their report, Sathari's unconscious form flickering in and out of reality as [Void Step] carried us both through the spaces between seconds. The technique was getting smoother with practice, though maintaining it while carrying someone else required concentration I'd rather save for more important things.
Like the fact that my Demonic Sphere was screaming warnings about the approaching presence.
I made it halfway across the main courtyard before running out of luck.
Lightning split the air, not aimed at me but creating a brilliant web that turned night into day. In that harsh illumination, every shadow vanished, leaving me exposed in the center of the Academy's heart with an unconscious princess in my arms.
"Huh. I see." The voice carried clearly across the suddenly silent courtyard, calm and conversational despite the circumstances. "Iskandaar Romani. I was wondering when you'd show your face again."
Before I could complain about how every other person could recognize me despite my disguise, Professor Katheran stepped into the light. I felt my blood turn to ice water.
[Katheran, Lightning Spellsword, Level 153]
One hundred and fifty-three. The number blazed in my enhanced vision like a brand. When I'd left the Academy, he'd been powerful but comprehensible – a 7th Ascension master whose strength I could measure against my own growth. Now...
8th Ascension. In just a few months... How the hell is that even possible?
He looked exactly as I remembered. Tall, lean, with that perpetually tired expression that suggested he'd rather be anywhere else. But there was something different in his posture now, a weight that spoke of battles fought and prices paid.
His sunglasses reflected the magical lightning still crackling overhead, hiding eyes I suddenly realized I didn't want to see.
"Professor," I said carefully, not moving from my position. "Lovely evening for a stroll, isn't it?"
His lips quirked in what might have been amusement. "Indeed. Though I notice you've brought a companion." His gaze flicked to Sathari's unconscious form. "Is that not our international guest, Princess Nezehra? She appears to be... indisposed."
"She's fine. Just sleeping."
"Sleeping." He began walking toward me, each step accompanied by small discharges of electricity that danced between his fingers. "How thoughtful of you to ensure she gets her rest. Though I imagine the Academy's medical staff might want to verify her condition."
I took a half-step back, feeling the weight of tactical options in my mind. 8th Ascension, Battle Mage. The only one of his kind in this world. I thought again. This is going to hurt.
"Tell me, Iskandaar," Katheran said, electricity now dancing between his fingertips in complex patterns that spoke of techniques I didn't recognize, "did you really think you could just walk back into our halls without consequences? After sacrificing my students back in Merasca?"
You’ve got to be kidding me. I shifted my grip on Sathari, preparing for what was probably going to be the worst fight of a very eventful month.
"Honestly?" I gave him my best devil-may-care grin, the one that had gotten me into more trouble than I cared to count. "I was hoping for something more like a warm welcome."
The lightning that erupted from his hands turned the courtyard into a miniature sun, and I threw myself sideways as this problem officially began.
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