Chapter 167 Fanatics

Chapter 167 Fanatics
Ilaria's POV
Late into the night, the three of us huddled over a massive pile of ancient manuscripts in the Citadel's high tower library.
The room was warm and cozy, lit by the gentle yellow glow of floating mage-lamps, while autumn rain tapped relentlessly against the high arched windows overlooking the dark academy grounds. We were ostensibly studying for our upcoming final examinations on pre-war international law and border distribution, but our conversation had long since drifted away from administrative treaties and dry tax codes.
Dorian sat on the braided rug on the floor, surrounded by heavy leather-bound volumes, absently constructing tiny, floating geometric wards out of light-sparks between his fingers. He created a small rotating cube, expanded it into a complex dodecahedron, and then flattened it into a thin defensive panel that hovered in midair.
"If Master Vane asks about the third boundary treaty of 1740 during the oral exam tomorrow, I am going to walk out of the hall," Dorian groaned, resting his head back against a stack of heavy history books with a dramatic sigh. "It is three hundred pages of dead provincial lords arguing over who owns two miles of marshland that flooded forty years later anyway."
"It is on the exam syllabus, Dorian," Thalia said without looking up from her ledger, her charcoal pencil scratching quickly across a sheet of coarse paper. "And it carries twenty percent of the overall mark for political strategy. You need to memorize the primary signatories, their specific territorial demands, and the final mediation clause."
"I do not care about dead signatories," Dorian grumbled, making his floating light-panel vanish with a quick flick of his thumb. "I care about ward architecture, energy containment, and practical energy flow. Why do I need to know which arrogant lord owned a muddy swamp three hundred years ago?"
"Because that swamp became the primary supply route during the second northern campaign," Thalia explained patiently, dipping her pencil into fresh dark graphite powder. "Understanding historical greed helps you predict modern territorial movements and anticipate where political friction will occur next."
Thalia set her pencil down and turned her sharp blue eyes toward me. She casually pushed a stoneware cup of warm chamomile tea across the oak table toward my hand, the herbal steam rising softly into the cool night air. "Speaking of unique structural mechanics... I was watching you in the arena during the combat trials today, Ilaria. When you activated your Gilded Gaze to read the senior instructors' stances before breaking their frost-ward."
"What about it?" I asked, taking a small sip of the warm tea and letting its herbal heat settle comfortably in my throat.
"I was wondering about the exact operational mechanics of the ability," Thalia said, her tone light, curious, and entirely academic. "When you activate the Truth-Sight, does it rely on hearing spoken lies directly? Or are you perceiving subtle physical micro-expressions, like pulse rates, breathing patterns, and muscle tension? Or is it a direct spiritual perception of aura fractures in the air?"
I smiled, trusting my best friend completely. We had spent three long years sharing late-night meals, intense study sessions, and grueling physical training bouts in this very tower. She felt like a sister to me, someone who understood the pressures of carrying a heavy name in a complicated world.
"It is a combination of several elements," I explained, leaning my elbows on the wooden table and looking up at the floating mage-lamp above us. "Physical expressions can be faked by a highly trained liar or a skilled diplomat. But the Gilded Gaze does not just look at the physical body. It sees the raw emotional intention before a single word even forms on a person's tongue. If someone intends to deceive me, their aura produces a dark-violet static, a clear fracture in their spiritual light that is completely impossible to hide."
"A fracture in spiritual light," Thalia repeated softly, her pencil tapping twice against her chin as if she were committing the exact phrase to memory. "Fascinating. So as long as a person genuinely believes they are doing the right thing, there is no fracture? No dark static at all?"
"I... suppose so," I mused, considering the philosophical side of the question deeply for the first time in my life. "If someone truly believes their lie is a noble truth or a necessary act for the greater good of the realm, their aura remains clear, smooth, and steady. But very few people can deceive themselves that completely without showing some spiritual strain."
"Unless they are fanatical," Dorian chimed in from his spot on the floor, leaning his head back against the lower bookshelf. "Or unless they belong to one of those old religious sects that train their minds to ignore personal guilt entirely."
He paused, sitting up straight as a sudden realization struck him. "Which reminds me... did you see the restricted reading list for next week's seminar? Lord Cassian added three ancient texts on historical ward-nullification devices. Studying those specific devices is technically forbidden under the post-war peace accords."
"Lord Cassian is the chief patron of the academy," Thalia pointed out smoothly, closing her notebook with a crisp, decisive snap. "He holds special dispensation from the high diplomatic council to review ancient defensive mechanisms for historical research purposes. He is simply making sure our library remains comprehensive and prepared for any historical query."
"It still feels strange to me," Dorian muttered, adjusting his posture on the rug. "Those null-devices were the original tools used to split the ancient bloodlines during the war. My grandfather told me stories about how those arrays turned entire battalions of powerful mages into ordinary, defenseless men in a matter of seconds."
Thalia laughed, a bright, musical sound that broke the quiet tension in the tower room. She reached across the table and playfully nudged my shoulder. "Oh, stop worrying about restricted reading lists and ancient devices, Dorian. We have the future ruler of the Ranges sitting right here with us, and a dragon for a best friend. With Ilaria on our side, ordinary academy rules are just polite guidelines anyway."
I laughed along with her, pushing my heavy law volumes aside as Dorian let out a long, dramatic sigh of total surrender. Looking at my two closest friends in the warm yellow light of the tower library, I felt completely safe, grounded, and ready for whatever future waited for us beyond these ancient white walls.