The Glitched Mage-Chapter 40: Headmaster

The moment Riven's consciousness snapped back into reality, his body jerked as if he'd been plunged into cold water. The weight of the trial still clung to him—shadows coiling in his veins, the distant echoes of Velmorian's throne room lingering at the edges of his mind. His breath came slow and steady, but his fingers twitched with residual energy, as if his body still expected another fight.

Instinctively, he reached inward and relief flooded through him.

There—at the core of his being—his mana heart pulsed stronger than before, now encircled by two glowing rings of energy, crossing in an unmistakable X.

A slow grin tugged at his lips.

He did it.

He flexed his fingers, watching as shadows crackled at his fingertips, responding faster, sharper than before. The raw potency of his Second Circle was undeniable. His mana reserves had deepened, expanded into something far greater.

His connection to the abyss had evolved.

Updat𝓮d from frёewebnoѵēl.com.

A faint sound made him shift his gaze.

Nyx and Krux still stood on guard, their postures rigid with discipline. Yet, as he sat up, Nyx's keen eyes flickered with the faintest trace of curiosity, while Krux clenched his fist, his jaw tightening as if barely restraining his excitement.

"My king," Nyx spoke first, her voice smooth, unreadable. "How do you feel?"

Riven stretched as he stood, the tension melting from his limbs. The exhaustion from before? Gone. The ache in his mana channels? Distant. His entire body thrummed with a power that hadn't been there before.

He exhaled slowly. "Stronger."

Krux exhaled sharply before dropping to one knee, his fist striking his chest in a warrior's salute. "My liege, congratulations on reaching your second circle!" His golden eyes blazed with something akin to reverence.

"Congratulations." Nyx inclined her head, mirroring the salute with a hand pressed firmly over her heart.

Riven chuckled. "This is still only the beginning."

He rose to his feet, stretching out his arms, and felt nothing but raw, boundless mana flowing seamlessly through him. He had pushed himself past the limits of his First Circle and had conquered the trial the system had set before him.

[[ Alert: Two individuals approaching your room. ]]

Riven's movements stilled. Across the room, Nyx's fingers curled tighter around her sword hilt. Without hesitation, she vanished into the shadows, her form flickering out of sight before reappearing at the threshold of the training room. Her sharp gaze locked onto the front door.

'Two mages,' she relayed to Riven through their mental link, her expression unreadable. 'I don't sense any hostility, but they're not here for a friendly visit.'

A measured knock broke the silence—three steady raps against the wooden door.

Riven exhaled slowly.

"Riven Drakar, you have been summoned by the Headmaster," a deep voice announced from the other side.

'Let's just kill them,' Krux suggested, his tone brimming with indignation as he cracked his knuckles. 'How dare they disturb my king's moment of victory?!'

Riven rolled his eyes.

'Hide.'

Without protest, both Nyx and Krux sank into the abyss of his shadow, disappearing from sight.

Riven ran a hand through his hair, deliberately tousling it to appear disheveled. He loosened the top three buttons of his shirt before making his way to the door. With a calculated yawn, he blinked lazily, feigning the grogginess of someone who had just been roused from sleep.

He pulled the door open.

"What's going on?" he muttered, squinting against the dim sconces lining the hallway.

Two figures stood before him—one male, one female—both clad in identical flowing gray robes. A black blindfold obscured their eyes, the same kind he had seen on Sana during his third trial.

"Riven Drakar, you have been summoned by the Headmaster," the male Acolyte repeated in the same even tone. "Please follow us."

Riven's jaw tensed slightly.

So, it was finally happening.

They were ready to tighten the leash.

He forced a casual smile. "Alright," he said easily, stepping into the hallway and pulling the door shut behind him. "Lead the way."

The Acolytes turned on their heels without another word, their movements precise and synchronized. Riven followed, hands in his pockets, his expression a mask of mild curiosity. But inside, his thoughts churned.

The timing was too perfect.

His Second Circle had just formed. His power had surged to an entirely new level—and now, the Headmaster was summoning him?

Coincidence? Not a chance.

Riven had planned to keep his advancement hidden, to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. But he had underestimated the forces at play. There were greater powers within the academy, ones that had no doubt sensed the exact moment his mana heart evolved. Keeping it a secret had never been an option.

They advanced higher in the academy, the air growing thicker with mana the more levels they ascended.

The scenery changed drastically as they made their way higher and higher, some floors only with a few doorways, other floors full on gardens with wild man dense flowers and herbs. One floor was even seemed to exist in a space between worlds. A shimmering bridge of dark stone arched over an expanse of nothingness, the sky above a swirling canvas of deep blues and purples. The air hummed with energy, a constant thrum of mana so thick it made his skin prickle.

Riven kept his expression unreadable, but internally, he was assessing every detail. The higher they climbed, the clearer it became—this wasn't just about a meeting with the Headmaster. This was a test.

The two Acolytes leading him didn't speak, their blindfolded faces remaining expressionless. He could feel their mana signatures—calm, controlled, yet undeniably powerful. They weren't mere errand runners.

They were here to ensure his compliance.

Interesting.

Riven's gaze sharpened as they approached the towering doors—monolithic and impossibly intricate. They weren't crafted from wood or stone but something far more valuable.

Mana cores.

Embedded deep within the structure, countless cores pulsed with a rhythmic glow, their energy interwoven into a seamless lattice of power. Veins of runes ran along the surface, shifting and shimmering as they reacted to the Acolytes' presence.

For the first time since entering the upper levels, genuine intrigue flickered in Riven's eyes.

Just how many mana cores had it taken to construct this?

Without a word, the robed figures raised their hands in unison, pressing their palms against the doors.

A deep rumbling filled the air.

The air trembled with power before the doors slid open, revealing the chamber beyond.

Riven stepped inside.

The room was vast, yet eerily quiet. Black marble stretched beneath his feet, its polished surface reflecting the glow of hovering mana crystals embedded into the high, arched ceiling. The walls bore no decoration—just pure white marble, smooth and unbroken.

At the far end, a single figure sat behind an expansive desk of dark wood.

The Headmaster.

Riven had never met him before. Few students ever did. The man's presence was subtle, restrained, yet the sheer weight of his mana made the air feel heavier. He was dressed in formal robes of deep indigo, his silver hair falling loosely over sharp, angular features. His eyes—an unnatural silver—met Riven's gaze with an unreadable expression.

The doors sealed shut behind him.

For a long moment, silence stretched between them.

Then, the Headmaster spoke.

"Please, have a seat." The Headmaster gestured with a flick of his fingers, and a chair materialized before the desk in a quiet shimmer of mana.

Riven lowered himself onto it, his gaze steady as he met the Headmaster's unwavering stare.

"You may leave us," the Headmaster instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The two Acolytes bowed in silent obedience before turning and exiting the room, the doors closing behind them with a soft thrum of energy.

The silence in the chamber was thick with unspoken intent. Riven sat comfortably, his posture deceptively relaxed as he studied the Headmaster. The man radiated authority, not through overwhelming presence, but through the sheer weight of his control. Every movement, every breath, was measured—precise.

The Headmaster leaned back slightly, fingers steepling together as he regarded Riven with an expression that betrayed neither approval nor disapproval.

"You've progressed faster than anyone expected," the Headmaster finally said, his voice even, unhurried. "The youngest mage in over a century to reach the Second Circle."

Riven didn't react beyond a slight tilt of his head. "I suppose that's impressive," he mused. "If you care about records."

The Headmaster's lips twitched, as if amused by his indifference. "Records are nothing more than markers of progress. What matters is what comes next."

Riven said nothing. He wasn't going to play into whatever game the Headmaster was setting up.

The older man studied him for a moment longer before shifting his hand slightly. A second chair materialized beside Riven's, though this one remained empty for only a moment.

The air shimmered.

Then, she appeared.

A woman, tall and regal, stepped forward as if emerging from the shadows themselves. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back in a silky curtain, contrasting sharply with the deep violet of her eyes—eyes that gleamed with something far more calculating than mere curiosity.

Archmage Elara.

Riven's expression remained neutral, but internally, his mind sharpened.

So, they weren't wasting time.

Elara's gaze flickered over him, assessing. "Riven Drakar," she said smoothly, her voice as rich and commanding as he remembered. "It's nice to finally meet the youngest son of the Drakar family."

Riven's lips curled slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. She had no idea they had already crossed paths—though, in her case, it had been nothing more than a conversation she hadn't realized he was listening to. A conversation about his future.

The Headmaster's silver eyes remained steady, his presence an unshakable force as he continued, "The first-year division only caters to those beneath the Second Circle. Now that you've surpassed that threshold, you will be moved to the second-year curriculum."

Riven leaned back slightly in his chair, his expression unreadable. "So you're saying I'm too strong for the first years now."

"That is the reality of your advancement," the Headmaster confirmed. "Keeping you there would only hinder your growth."

It wasn't a choice—it was an order. Riven had known this was coming the moment his mana heart expanded. The academy had rules, but exceptions were always made when power was involved.

His gaze flicked toward Elara, whose violet eyes watched him with a glint of something deeper. She wasn't just here to oversee his transition into the second-year division.

She was here for him.

The Headmaster continued, "As such, Archmage Elara will be assuming the role of your instructor. She specializes in advanced mana refinement and high-level spellcraft—areas that will ensure you reach your full potential."

Riven's smirk barely concealed his thoughts. Potential? No, this wasn't about nurturing his growth. It was about control.

Elara's voice was smooth, measured. "Your progress is unprecedented. The youngest mage in over a hundred years to reach the Second Circle." She tilted her head slightly. "It would be a shame to waste such talent."

Riven tapped his fingers idly against the armrest. "You make it sound like you're doing me a favor."

Elara's smile was slight, but unwavering. "Perhaps I am."

They were testing him, prodding at his ambitions, trying to gauge how much influence they could have. Riven wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing where his mind was.

He exhaled, his posture relaxed. "Fine. I'll transition into the second year."

Elara's eyes gleamed. "I expected no less."

The Headmaster inclined his head slightly. "You'll receive your new schedule in the morning. For now, return to your chambers and prepare. Your true training begins tomorrow."

Riven rose smoothly to his feet. "Then I'll take my leave."

As he turned, Elara's voice followed him.

"One more thing," she said lightly.

Riven glanced back, meeting her gaze.

"Do try not to disappoint me," she mused.

Riven chuckled under his breath as he strode away.

Oh, he definitely won't disappoint.