The Villain Professor's Second Chance

Elara watched with sharp eyes as the knights formed a perimeter, their movements precise and deliberate. They were a true reflection of their master, Professor Draven—cold, effective, and ever vigilant. The knights carried themselves with a quiet authority that wasn't loud or boastful but spoke volumes about their training. Each step they took, each order they barked, it was all done with a purpose.

"They're remarkable," Maris whispered, standing beside Elara. Her voice was soft but filled with awe as she observed the knights. "They don't even hesitate. Every motion is like a plan already set in motion. They're so… deliberate."

Elara nodded, her gaze shifting toward Alfred, who was directing the knights with a calm grace. "They are well-trained. Just like him," she muttered, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Draven's butler.

There was something about Alfred that captured Elara's attention more than anyone else on the battlefield. His movements were fluid, almost elegant, yet every flick of his wrist, every sidestep was deadly. He wielded a rapier with ease, cutting through any remaining threats without ever losing his composure.

But it wasn't just his fighting prowess that drew Elara's focus—it was the sharpness in his eyes. There was no doubt that Alfred could see danger before it even manifested, his instincts honed to perfection. Every time he moved, it was as if he anticipated what would come next.

"He's graceful," Elara remarked, more to herself than anyone else. "But look at his eyes. He notices everything."

Maris followed her gaze. "He's like a hawk, isn't he? Never missing anything." Her voice was tinged with admiration, and Elara couldn't disagree. Alfred was no ordinary butler—he was an extension of Draven's control and mastery, and in many ways, just as formidable as the professor himself.

And then there was Garren. Elara's attention shifted to the knight commander. Unlike Alfred, Garren was a storm of focused energy, barking commands with urgency, his sword a blur as he cut down what few threats remained. But even in the heat of battle, his eyes kept darting toward the path where he had sent a scouting party, his concern for Professor Draven unmistakable.

Elara watched him for a moment, noticing how his movements grew a fraction tenser with each passing minute that the knights he sent out did not return. His lips pressed into a thin line as he ordered five more knights to scout deeper into the ruins, their mission clear: find the professor at all costs.

"He's worried," Elara muttered under her breath, and Maris nodded beside her.

"More than worried," Maris said quietly. "He's trying to keep it together, but every time he glances toward where those knights left… it's like he's waiting for bad news."

The remaining knights formed a protective line, keeping the gathered students safe. They worked in unison, positioning themselves strategically, some of them checking on the survivors, others sharpening their weapons in preparation for whatever threat might emerge next. It was as if they were an extension of Professor Draven himself—methodical, prepared, and unwavering in the face of danger.

But then Elara's gaze shifted. Amberine stood apart from the others, her back against a crumbling wall, staring off into the distance. It was unlike her to be so quiet, so still. Normally, Amberine radiated fiery energy, her temper as volatile as the flames she commanded. But now… she was empty, her eyes devoid of the usual spark.

Even Ifrit, the fire spirit that always hovered near her, seemed subdued, its presence barely noticeable beneath the folds of her robe.

Elara and Maris exchanged a glance before making their way toward Amberine.

"She's been like that since the battle ended," Maris whispered. "I thought she would explode after what Professor Draven said… but she hasn't said a word."

Elara nodded. "Give her time. This isn't something she can process so quickly."

Amberine didn't acknowledge them as they approached. Her eyes were fixed on the Drakhan knights, but there was no real focus in her gaze. It was as if she wasn't seeing them at all.

Just then, one of the knights approached, carrying provisions. To their surprise, he set down a spread of food and drink—hot stew, fresh bread, and even a selection of fruit. Large jugs of water and some sort of spiced drink were brought over, and the smell of freshly cooked meat wafted through the air.

Maris blinked in surprise. "They brought… all this? I expected them to be prepared, but hot food?"

Elara raised an eyebrow, impressed despite herself. "It seems the Drakhan knights are prepared for every situation. I suppose it's only natural, given who they serve."

The students began to gather around, cautiously approaching the food. After the battle, the warmth and sustenance seemed to revive some of their spirits.

Maris turned toward Amberine, offering a bowl of stew. "Amberine, do you want to eat something?"

For a moment, Amberine didn't respond. Her eyes remained distant, her body still. It wasn't until Maris touched her arm gently that she seemed to snap back into the present.

"No," Amberine said quietly, her voice hoarse. She didn't even look at the food. "I'm not hungry."

Maris hesitated but prepared a portion for Amberine anyway, setting it down beside her in case she changed her mind. Elara, meanwhile, watched her friend carefully. She knew what was weighing on Amberine's mind, what had been haunting her since Draven's cold admission.

"He killed my father."

The words had hung in the air after the battle, shocking everyone, but none more than Amberine. Draven had stated it so plainly, so matter-of-factly, as if it were just another fact in a long list of truths. And Amberine… well, she hadn't said anything since. Find your adventure at empire

Elara didn't press her. She knew better than to try and force Amberine to speak before she was ready. There was too much emotion tangled up inside her right now—rage, confusion, and a sense of betrayal that was all too raw. No, Amberine needed time to process everything, and Elara would give her that.

Still, something about Draven's words had unsettled Elara as well. The way he had spoken… it had felt cold, yes, but there had been something else there too. A hidden truth, something just beneath the surface that Elara couldn't quite grasp. But she knew, instinctively, that there was more to the story.

Draven didn't do anything without a reason, and his cold, calculating nature often masked deeper motives.

As the moments passed in silence, the ground beneath them suddenly trembled. Elara's head snapped up, her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. At first, she thought it was another aftershock from the battle, but then she noticed it.

The rubble around them began to shift, pebbles and stones rolling across the ground as if some unseen force was at work. The air itself seemed to hum with energy, and then—without warning—a soft, radiant glow began to envelop the ruins of the Magic Tower University.

"What's happening?" Maris asked, her voice tinged with awe.

Elara narrowed her eyes, focusing on the source of the glow. Slowly, almost impossibly, the broken walls and shattered stones of the tower began to shift, not in destruction, but in restoration. It was as if the ruins were reversing themselves, piecing back together with an elegance and beauty that defied explanation.

The once crumbled towers began to rise again, the cracks in the stone smoothing out, the shattered windows mending as if time itself had turned backward. The ground beneath them steadied, the jagged edges softening, becoming whole once more.

It was breathtaking, like watching the very essence of the university come back to life, restoring itself to its original state before the dungeonification had taken hold.

Amberine, still staring into the distance, finally blinked, her gaze drawn to the transformation. The glow reflected in her eyes, and for the first time since the battle, there was something more than emptiness in her expression. Confusion, perhaps. A flicker of curiosity.

Elara remained silent, watching the Magic Tower University rebuild itself, her mind racing. This was no ordinary magic. This was something far more powerful, far more intricate. And she knew, without a doubt, that this was Draven's doing. Only someone with his mastery, his cold precision, could accomplish something so monumental, so flawlessly.

The tower was being restored, brick by brick, spell by spell, and as the last stone settled into place, Elara's suspicion hardened into certainty.

The one behind the dungeoninfication of the magic tower university is defeated.

"Professor Draven…" she muttered under her breath, her gaze hardening. "What have you done?"