Chapter 140: Alaric’s Scheme Fails

The aftermath of the practical examination left the class in an uproar. Some were still recovering from the embarrassment of failing spectacularly, while others celebrated scraping by with a passing score.

Then there were Kenneth and Noah.

Both had performed exceptionally, far above the average students, displaying their skill and adaptability as Adept Mages. The only problem? They had both assumed they’d be the only one at that level.

Kenneth had initially thought himself leagues ahead of his peers. That smug confidence had lasted exactly up until the moment he saw Noah clearing his own trial with just as much competence.

Noah, on the other hand, had been perfectly content in his belief that his alchemical mastery and control over magic energy set him apart. That contentment shattered the second he saw Kenneth effortlessly weaving between elemental attacks like he was born for it.

For the first time, the two acknowledged each other. Not with words, of course. That would imply they actually cared to talk to one another. No, they simply exchanged glares. The kind of glares that spoke of an unspoken rivalry that neither of them wanted but neither could ignore.

And yet, after witnessing Alaric Steele’s performance—if that farce of a display could even be called a performance—both of them silently decided:

They were giving up on that fight. At least for now.

Competing with Alaric was pointless. The man was practically in his own league, playing an entirely different game that they weren’t even invited to.

Instead, they turned their attention elsewhere.

~~

Kenneth Darlington-Whit found himself welcomed—if not outright pursued—by the heirs of noble families. His ability to wield multiple elemental spells with ease had not gone unnoticed. While not on Alaric’s insane level, his mastery of difficult and high-tier elemental magic placed him firmly at the top of the normal elite.

’Finally,’ Kenneth thought, sipping a fine glass of enchanted wine at one of the academy’s social gatherings. ’People who recognize true talent.’

Of course, he was careful. He kept his background as the heir of a fallen royal family tightly under wraps. The kingdom responsible for his family’s downfall still existed, and while it was far from the Eloriath Kingdom, caution was the better part of survival.

So instead of parading his lineage, he let his abilities do the talking.

And they talked loudly.

“Darlington-Whit, you must tell us—how did you manage to control both fire and wind at such a level?” a noble heir asked, eyes gleaming with admiration.

Kenneth smirked. “Some of us are simply born talented.”

The flattery was enjoyable.

But in the back of his mind, there was a tiny, infuriating thought.

No matter how much recognition he received, no matter how much he excelled… he was still standing in Alaric Steele’s shadow.

And that? That was unacceptable.

~~

Meanwhile, Noah Gilkes had started rubbing shoulders with an entirely different crowd.

Unlike the nobility, who fawned over raw magic prowess, the trade unions, artificer guilds, and alchemy unions cared about results.

And Noah? He delivered results.

His talent in alchemy, combined with his absurdly strong magic energy, had made him a hot commodity.

“Master Gilkes, your elixir’s purity is remarkable!” an artificer praised, examining the glowing liquid in a crystalline vial.

Noah adjusted his sleeves, pleased but not surprised. “Naturally.”

His status as the heir of one of Eloriath Kingdom’s renowned Alchemy Unions certainly helped, but it was his own skills that had truly solidified his place.

As far as he was concerned, this was where he belonged.

Among people who appreciated intellect and craft, not just brute magical power.

And yet…

Despite all the recognition, all the admiration…

There was still one irritating little fact he couldn’t erase from his mind.

No matter how accomplished he became… Alaric Steele still existed.

~~

While Kenneth and Noah were busy forging connections, Alaric Steele was engaged in something far more important.

Lazing around with his head in Natasha’s lap.

The midday sun cast a warm glow over the academy gardens. Alaric lay stretched out on a plush, enchanted blanket, utterly relaxed as Natasha delicately fed him grapes.

“Are you sure you don’t feel guilty?” Natasha pouted, placing a particularly plump grape between his lips.

Alaric chewed slowly, savoring the taste. “Guilty about what exactly?”

“Winning the bet!” she huffed. “Obviously!”

Ah. That.

The bet had been simple. Alaric had claimed he’d take first place in the enchantment and artifact creation exam. Natasha, ever confident, had insisted she would.

She had been second.

And now, per their agreement, she was personally feeding him grapes.

Alaric swallowed another one and smirked. “A deal’s a deal.”

Natasha groaned. “You only won because you spent so much time learning from my sister!”

That was… technically true.

Iridelle had been instrumental in refining his enchantment skills. But Alaric was not about to let a mere fact ruin his moment of divine indulgence.

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Well, that might be true, but as they say—”

He lowered his voice, bringing it to a conspiratorial whisper.

“—all’s fair in love and war.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “You just made that up.”

“Did I?” Alaric grinned and gestured for another grape.

She sighed dramatically but complied, plucking another one from the bowl and placing it in his mouth.

He chewed, feeling particularly pleased with himself.

But, of course, there was one tiny detail Natasha didn’t know.

Yes, he had learned enchantment from Iridelle. That much was true.

But what wasn’t true… was the assumption that learning enchantment was all he did with her.

His lips curled into a subtle, knowing smirk while recalling the intimate moments he had shared with Iridelle, the passion that had ignited between them.

’Oh, Natasha. If only you knew what your sister and I really spent our time doing…Your reaction would have been quite entertaining. However…’

’Some secrets are best kept hidden,’ he thought, his mind already drifting to other matters. He was content to enjoy this moment of peace, this moment of intimacy with Natasha.

Meanwhile…

Back in the academy halls, Kenneth and Noah had firmly cemented themselves as rising stars within their respective circles.

Noble heirs whispered about Kenneth’s potential.

Trade and alchemy guilds eyed Noah with keen interest.

And yet, despite their newfound influence…

Neither of them could shake the same, unspoken realization.

No matter how high they climbed, no matter how much they achieved…

There would always be one name that overshadowed them all.

Alaric Steele.

And the worst part?

The worst part?

While they were exhausting themselves trying to gain influence…

He was off somewhere, getting fed grapes in a literal lap of luxury.

…Life was unfair.

~~

Alaric entered his dorm room, stretching his arms as he closed the door behind him. It had been a long day, and he was finally looking forward to some well-earned rest. The bet with Natasha had been enjoyable—more so for him than for her, obviously—but all that relaxation had made him realize just how tired he actually was.

’Nothing like a good nap after publicly humiliating my so-called competition.’

He flopped onto his bed, sighing in satisfaction.

And then—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Alaric’s eyes snapped open as his phone, which he had placed on his bedside table, started vibrating and beeping incessantly.

He sat up immediately, grabbing the device.

There were very few people in the world who had one of these phones, even fewer who had his number.

He glanced at the screen, and then—

A smirk formed on his lips.

The number displayed was Zylle’s.

Ever since the incident with the failed shipment of a hundred phones to the Phantom Assembly, Alaric had made his own secret move. A few days after the fiasco, he had personally sent dozens of phones to Zylle in a completely undisclosed delivery.

More importantly, he had attached a very specific message:

“Do not tell anyone else in the Phantom Assembly about this secret order.”

And of course, he had also told her why.

Someone within the Phantom Assembly had leaked the details of the shipment. But it wasn’t just some random spy or an external enemy—it was an insider. Someone from within the Phantom Assembly had orchestrated the interception.

That had caught Zylle’s attention. And now, it seemed, she had something to say about it.

Alaric answered the call, placing the phone against his ear.

“Zylle,” he greeted casually. “I assume you’re not calling just to chat?”

Zylle didn’t waste a single second.

“You were right,” she said, her voice firm, but there was an undertone of restrained frustration. “I did some digging these past few days. I managed to catch several spies operating under my command.”

Alaric’s eyebrows raised slightly. “That fast? Impressive.”

“That’s not the problem,” Zylle said, her tone sharpening. “The real problem is who they were working for.”

Alaric leaned back against the headboard, tapping his fingers lightly against the phone. “Let me guess—not the Phantom Assembly’s enemies?”

Zylle let out a slow breath. “No. They were working for other high-ranking members within the Phantom Assembly.”

Alaric’s expression didn’t change, but inwardly, he wasn’t too surprised.

’Ah. So that’s how deep the rot goes.’

Zylle continued, “I knew that competition between Phantom Assembly members was intense. Everyone wants to earn Lord Vortan’s favor. But to think that they’d go so far as to actively harm the organization itself?”

Alaric chuckled lightly. “You sound surprised.”

Zylle didn’t reply immediately. She was surprised.

Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit that she had underestimated how cutthroat the Phantom Assembly had become.

After a moment, she spoke again. “I’ve already dealt with the spies I caught. But the real problem remains. The high-ranking member who gave them orders… they’ve covered their tracks so well that even I couldn’t trace them.”

Now that was interesting.

Zylle was many things, but incompetent was not one of them.

If she couldn’t find the culprit, then that meant they were exceptionally careful.

Or exceptionally powerful.

Either way, Alaric didn’t mind. He had ways of dealing with these things.

“Then let’s make them expose themselves,” he said smoothly.

Zylle narrowed her eyes on the other side of the call. “How?”

Alaric smirked. “Simple. We bait them.”

He could hear the faintest shift in Zylle’s breathing. She was intrigued.

“Explain,” she ordered.

Alaric leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You need to speak with each high-ranking member separately. Tell them that the Steele Family is going to release another shipment of phones specifically for the Phantom Assembly.”

Zylle frowned slightly. “Wouldn’t they be suspicious? The first shipment was a disaster.”

“Exactly,” Alaric said. “Which is why you need to stress that this time, everything is going to be done differently. Tell each high-ranking member a different secret location for the drop-off and make them promise to keep it completely confidential.”

Zylle caught on quickly. “And then we send empty carriages along all those routes…”

Alaric’s grin widened. “Precisely. The route that gets attacked? That’s the culprit.”

There was a brief silence.

Then, a low chuckle.

Zylle was impressed.

“You’re good,” she admitted, and Alaric could practically see the smirk forming on her lips. “Really good.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he drawled. “But if you must, you can throw in a few more compliments.”

Zylle snorted. “I’ll pass.”

Alaric chuckled. “So, will you do it?”

“Of course,” she said without hesitation. “I’ll follow your plan exactly.”

“Good,” Alaric said. “Then let’s see which rat scurries out of the shadows.”

Zylle’s voice turned serious again. “If we do find out who it is… what do you suggest we do with them?”

Alaric thought for a moment. Then, his eyes gleamed with something sharp, something dangerous.

“That depends,” he said. “Do you want to make a statement? Or do you want to make them suffer?”

Zylle exhaled slowly. “I’ll decide when the time comes.”

“Fair enough,” Alaric said. “But whatever you do, make it hurt.”

Zylle chuckled darkly. “That won’t be a problem.”

Alaric smiled to himself.

’Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.’

“Then let’s get to work,” he said.

And with that, the call ended.

Alaric leaned back against his bed, staring at the ceiling with a satisfied smirk.

A mole within the Phantom Assembly, acting against their own organization for personal gain?

How fascinating.

He wasn’t sure yet who the culprit was. But soon, very soon, he would have a name.

And when that happened…

He was going to enjoy what came next.

~~

Alaric’s plan unfolded over the next five days like a well-orchestrated symphony. Zylle executed everything exactly as he had instructed, meeting with each high-ranking Phantom Assembly member in secret.

Each meeting had been carefully arranged—hushed discussions behind closed doors, cryptic whispers exchanged in dimly lit rooms, and veiled warnings to never reveal the information to anyone else.

And of course, each individual was given a different location for the supposed shipment of phones.

By the fourth day, the trap had been set.

The Steele Family had arranged several empty carriages to travel along the designated routes, each one seemingly carrying a valuable shipment of Phones meant for the Phantom Assembly.

Now, it was simply a matter of waiting.

But there was one thing Alaric had not accounted for—

Gideon.

Unlike the others, Gideon was not a fool.

Deep within the underbelly of the Phantom Assembly’s hidden domain, he leaned back in his chair, the dim candlelight flickering against the sharp contours of his face.

His phone buzzed.

He picked it up and brought it to his ear.

“Master,” Eskil’s eager voice came through. “We have an opportunity.”

Gideon didn’t respond immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing.

Eskil continued, his excitement palpable. “Another shipment is coming. Steele is pushing out more Phones to the Phantom Assembly.”

A deep hum rumbled in Gideon’s throat. His fingers tapped idly against the wooden table.

“Consecutive shipments?” he muttered. “Even while the Steele Family is desperately trying to fulfill the Royal Family’s order?”

Eskil hesitated. “…Yes?”

“Suspicious,” Gideon murmured.

Eskil, of course, didn’t care about suspicions. He was already imagining the riches that could be made. The first shipment had given them a taste of power—Phones were an untapped goldmine in the underworld, and they controlled the supply.

If they intercepted another batch? Their influence would expand even further.

“Master,” Eskil pressed. “Should I take action?”

But Gideon remained silent.

A few seconds passed.

Then—

“No.”

Eskil blinked. “No?”

Gideon’s voice was firm. “Reign in your greed, Eskil. We have more than enough Phones right now. No need to get desperate for more.”

Eskil was confused. This wasn’t like Gideon at all. Usually, his master would seize every opportunity that came their way. Why hesitate now?

“But—”

“Think,” Gideon interrupted coldly. “The Steele Family just suffered a major loss of Phones to us. And despite that, they’re sending another shipment so soon?”

Eskil frowned. “…Isn’t that just because they’re desperate to maintain ties with the Phantom Assembly?”

Gideon exhaled through his nose. “Possibly. But I do not believe Steele is that reckless. Either they have an endless supply of Phones, or…”

He let the word hang in the air.

Eskil’s enthusiasm dimmed slightly. “…Or it’s a trap.”

“Exactly,” Gideon murmured.

Eskil’s mind raced. It made sense. The timing. The secrecy. The consecutive shipments.

He hated to admit it, but his master was right.

Gideon tapped his fingers against the table again. “We do nothing for now.”

Eskil scowled. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the idea of missing out on such an easy haul. But Gideon’s tone left no room for argument.

“…Understood,” he muttered.

And with that, the call ended.

Gideon leaned back, eyes gleaming.

’Nice try, Steele. But you’ll have to do better than this.’

Meanwhile, Alaric was comfortably lounging in his academy dorm, completely unaware that Gideon had caught on.

Zylle had yet to send him any news, and he figured it was only a matter of time before the culprit made their move.

Stretching his arms behind his head, he sighed.

’I should start charging for my strategic expertise. Too bad I’m already disgustingly rich.’

Just as he was about to relax, his phone vibrated again.

A message.

Zylle: No attacks. None of the carriages were targeted.

Alaric’s eyes narrowed.

’…Huh.’

That was unexpected.

For a moment, he considered the possibility that all of the Phantom Assembly members were actually innocent.

Then he immediately discarded that thought.

’Not a chance.’

There was a mole. He was sure of it. But whoever it was—

They were smart.

Alaric rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

If he were in their position, what would he do?

’If I were the traitor and I suspected a trap… I’d stay quiet. I’d observe instead of act. That way, I wouldn’t expose myself.’

That meant the culprit wasn’t just any random high-ranking member.

It was someone cautious. Someone experienced.

Someone who knew what they were doing.

Alaric exhaled slowly, a sharp grin forming.

’Well, well. I guess I’ll just have to make things even more interesting for them.’

He picked up his phone and typed a message to Zylle.

“New plan. We switch from baiting to luring. Let’s make them come to us.”

And with that, the next phase of his game began.