A gnawing unease pulled at Lucius. The whispers of a forgotten pact, the chilling aura of the Shadow Blight – they burrowed into his thoughts. He needed answers. Valerius, the enigmatic history professor, was the only one who might possess them. His boots thudded softly on the polished stone floors of the Academy's ancient wing. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light piercing the tall windows. The air grew cooler, carrying the scent of old parchment and faint magic. Lucius tightened his jaw. He had seen the terror in the ancient texts, felt the echo of despair. This wasn't some academic exercise. This was real, an encroaching threat to Elfry itself. And Valerius, for all his scholarly detachment, seemed to carry a burden of knowledge. He stopped before Valerius's office door. It stood slightly ajar, a sliver of candlelight visible within. Lucius pushed it open, revealing the professor hunched over a tome, spectacles perched on his nose. The room was a labyrinth of stacked books, spilling from shelves, forming precarious towers on the desk and floor. "Professor Valerius," Lucius began, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of study. Valerius flinched, his head snapping up. His eyes, usually sharp and inquisitive, held a momentary flicker of something akin to apprehension. Valerius slowly pushed his spectacles higher. "Ah, Varel. To what do I owe the… unexpected visit? I trust your research is progressing?" "It is," Lucius replied, stepping further into the room. "But my research has led me to a different kind of inquiry. It concerns the Shadow Blight. And the… pacts mentioned in the older texts." Valerius's expression became unreadable. His fingers tapped a rhythmic, silent beat against the leather-bound book before him. "A curious path for a young swordsman, Varel. Most students concern themselves with the more immediate, practical applications of magic. Or the politics of noble houses." "This feels more immediate than anything," Lucius countered, a spark of frustration igniting within him. "The texts I've found, they speak of an ancient threat, something sealed away. Your knowledge of history is unparalleled, Professor. You must know more." Valerius leaned back in his chair, a sigh escaping him. His gaze drifted to a dark, unlit corner of the room. "Knowledge, Varel, is a double-edged sword. Some truths are best left undisturbed. They are buried for a reason." Lucius scoffed, a short, sharp sound. "Buried? While the Blight stirs? While whispers of its return spread through the outer villages? That's not protection, Professor. That's ignorance." "Ignorance can be a shield," Valerius said, his voice dropping to a low, almost mournful tone. "It prevents one from seeing the horrors that lie beyond. It keeps the mind untainted by the truly corrupting forces of this world." Lucius felt a cold dread settle in his stomach. The professor wasn't just being cryptic; he was genuinely afraid. Not for himself, but for what Lucius might uncover. "Are you saying the truth itself is dangerous?" "Some truths shatter the very foundations of sanity," Valerius confirmed, his eyes now fixed on Lucius, intense and heavy. "They invite madness. They invite destruction. The Blight is not merely a force to be fought with steel and spell. It is a corruption of existence itself." Lucius clenched his fists, his frustration boiling over. He needed specifics, not riddles. He needed action, not philosophical warnings. This avoidance, this gatekeeping of vital information, made him feel utterly alone in his quest. "With all due respect, Professor, if the world is to be shattered, I'd rather know why," Lucius stated, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. "I'm not afraid of knowledge. I'm afraid of being helpless." Valerius closed the book on his desk with a soft thud. "A noble sentiment, Varel. But bravery does not equate to wisdom. The deeper you delve, the more you risk. Not just your life, but your very soul. The forbidden truths have a way of clinging to you, changing you." Lucius narrowed his eyes. He recognized the pattern. Just like in his past life, when he sought answers, he was met with closed doors, with people unwilling or unable to help. It always came back to him. He always had to find his own way. "Then I will risk it," Lucius declared, his resolve hardening like steel. The professor's warnings, meant to deter him, only solidified his determination. If others wouldn't share the path, he would forge his own. He would uncover the secrets of the Shadow Blight, no matter the cost. He turned to leave, the silence of the room suddenly oppressive. Valerius's reluctance, his guarded eyes, had cemented something in Lucius. He couldn't rely on anyone else for this. This was his burden to carry, his truth to unearth. "Think carefully, Varel," Valerius's voice echoed behind him, a final, somber plea. "Some paths, once taken, cannot be untrodden." Lucius ignored the words. He pushed the office door open fully, stepping out into the hushed corridor. The academy felt vast, indifferent. His isolation deepened, but so did his resolve. He would find the answers, even if he had to tear them from the very fabric of existence. --- Inside the office, Valerius remained still for a long moment. He gazed at the now empty doorway, his shoulders slumped. A tremor passed through his aged frame. Slowly, his eyes, usually sharp, flickered with a sorrowful recognition, whispering to an empty room, "Another soul drawn to the precipice."

Chapter 37: The Veiled Mentor's Gaze