Gravity Mage with Level-Up System

From MC’s Perspective:

The aged librarian, her face etched with worry, led us through the winding corridors to the Dean’s Tower. Our wrists burned as the cold metal of the handcuffs dug into our skin.

As the heavy oak door creaked open, revealing the top floor, we were met with the imposing figure of the Dean. The old man, his eyes sharp and penetrating, stood at the far end of the room. His gaze fell upon us with a cold intensity.

Craig Steel, his face pale and clammy, was visibly shaken. Desperate to cast a spell, his hands trembled as he struggled against the mana-suppressing handcuffs.

“What happened?” The Dean’s voice, deep and authoritative, echoed through the room as he turned to the librarian.

The old woman hesitated for a moment, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and confusion. “It began when Zack Lockwood entered the basic mana section to study. Shortly after, a level-7 wizard appeared there. Within seconds, a violent explosion rocked the area.”

The Dean’s expression hardened. His eyes narrowed as he focused on Craig, who was visibly sweating.

“I didn’t do anything!” Craig protested, his voice rising in pitch. “Vincent Carey tried to kill me, so I had to defend myself.”

A skeptical look crossed the Dean’s face. The librarian nodded in agreement, her disbelief evident. A level-5 wizard attacking a level-7? It was a preposterous claim.

“You arrived at the scene shortly after the explosion,” the Dean stated, his voice low and menacing. “And we have evidence to support that.”

Craig’s face turned ashen. The impossibility of his lie was becoming painfully clear. Panic began to set in as he desperately searched for a way out of this predicament.

“Vincent,” the Dean began, his voice low and measured, “tell me exactly what happened.”

A surge of adrenaline coursed through me as I hesitated. I had discovered a sinister truth, a single culprit behind the attack. But how could I convince them? Gathering my courage, I began to recount the events.

“I was studying in the library when a Elder House student entered the room. He seemed unassuming at first, selecting a book and sitting across from me. However, the atmosphere shifted abruptly. A cold, predatory intent flashed in his eyes before he launched a spell attack. I was forced to defend myself.”

The Dean’s expression was inscrutable, but his eyes held a knowing glint. As one of Vincent’s mentors, he was intimately familiar with Vincent Carey, the accused. It was clear that the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.

The old librarian, Elder Arin, watched me intently. Her eyes, filled with a mixture of concern and disbelief, slowly softened as I spoke. The contrast between my calm demeanor and Craig Steel’s obvious terror was stark.

“Elder Arin,” the Dean commanded, his voice firm, “please fetch Elder Barron.”

With a nod, the librarian disappeared into the shadows, leaving us alone in the tense atmosphere.

Elder Arin returned to the library, her face etched with grave concern. The chaos that unfolded was evident in the shattered remains of the once serene study space. It was clear that a desperate attempt had been made on Vincent Carey’s life. As if summoned by her silent plea, Elder Barron materialized before her.

“What has transpired?” he asked, his voice low and authoritative.

“The Dean requires your presence,” she replied succinctly, her gaze sweeping over the damaged room.

“See to the restoration of order here,” he commanded, his voice filled with the weight of responsibility. With a final, stern look, he vanished, leaving her to the daunting task of rebuilding.

Elder Arin sighed, the enormity of the situation settling upon her. She began to assess the damage, her heart heavy with the loss of irreplaceable texts. While digital copies existed for the first floor, the tangible essence of centuries-old knowledge had been irrevocably altered.

Meanwhile, in the Dean’s office, a tense silence hung in the air. The old man, his face a mask of contemplation, awaited Elder Barron’s findings.

“I have determined the presence of two distinct magical signatures,” Elder Barron began, his voice carrying a note of gravity. “One, undeniably linked to Elemental Magic. The other, more elusive, bears the hallmarks of Transformation Magic.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Craig Steel, his face a canvas of terror, collapsed to the floor. The realization of his impending downfall, and the collapse of his family’s decades-long infiltration, washed over him in a cold wave of despair.

“Elder Barron,” the Dean began, his voice low and urgent, “it is imperative that we contain this incident. Avoid causing undue panic within the academy.”

Barron nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation. With a respectful bow, he exited the room, determined to quell the growing unrest.

The Dean turned his attention to the task at hand. A silent communication later, a figure emerged from the shadows. An elderly woman, clad in a pristine white coat, entered the room. A small, unassuming white case was clutched in her hand.

“Elder Kira, I believe you have brought the necessary components,” the Dean inquired, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

Kira, a seasoned member of the Academy’s Council, nodded. Her usually serene demeanor was replaced by a flicker of concern. Rumors of the library incident had reached her, but the atmosphere in the Dean’s office suggested a far more sinister plot.

“Indeed,” she replied, her voice steady. “We can proceed with the interrogation.”

With a swift movement, Kira produced a hypodermic needle from her case. Before administering the truth serum, she cast a subtle binding spell on Craig Steel, immobilizing him on the floor.

My heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation as I observed the unfolding drama. It was peculiar that the Dean hadn’t objected to my presence during the interrogation.

Perhaps he suspected a more complex plot against me, one that involved multiple assailants. The thought of revealing the identity of the second suspect after this ordeal grew increasingly tempting.

Craig Steel writhed beneath the effects of the truth serum. A chilling transformation took place before my eyes as vibrant blue veins erupted across his forehead, forearms, and body. The sight was both mesmerizing and disturbing.

Lady Kira, with a practiced efficiency, withdrew the needle. “The serum’s effects will last for approximately one hour,” she stated, her voice carrying a note of finality. “We must act swiftly.”

A flicker of gratitude passed across the Dean’s face as he replied, “Thank you, Elder Kira. Your expertise is invaluable.”

With a nod, Lady Kira turned and left the room, leaving us alone with the writhing figure on the floor.

The knowledge that only a select few Magic Lords were privy to this spectacle sent a shiver down my spine. Those who had witnessed the library incident firsthand would undoubtedly be watching with keen interest, their minds racing with speculation.

Craig Steel’s body convulsed as the binding spell’s grip loosened. Before he could regain his footing, an overwhelming pressure descended upon him, courtesy of the Dean. The weight of the magical force crushed Craig to his knees, his face contorted in agony.

“Craig Steel,” the Dean’s voice boomed, cutting through the tension, “why did you attempt to murder Vincent Carey?”

My eyes narrowed as I focused on Craig, a cold dread creeping into my heart.

The truth serum was taking effect, the magical compulsion forcing a confession from his lips.

Horrified, Craig began to speak, his voice trembling. “My family ordered me to kill Vincent Carey. The mission was to eliminate him within hours.”

A cold lump formed in my throat as the gravity of the situation sunk in. My suspicions had been confirmed. A sinister plot had been hatched to end my life.

The Dean’s face hardened, his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. Shock and disbelief warred within him, but his resolve was unwavering. A murderous glint appeared in his eyes, a chilling promise of retribution.

The Dean’s relentless pursuit of the truth continued. “Why did your family desire Vincent Carey’s death?” he pressed, his voice like a cold steel blade.

Craig Steel’s inner turmoil was palpable, his silent screams echoing within his mind. Yet, the truth serum’s grip was unyielding. “My family received orders from the Dean of the Royal Force Academy,” he croaked, his voice thick with despair. “He commanded Family Head to eliminate Vincent Carey.”

The revelation struck the Dean like a bolt of lightning. The Steel family, it seemed, were mere pawns in a deadly game orchestrated by the Royal Force Academy.

A cold realization washed over him as a chilling mental command echoed within his mind: “Capture all members of the Steel family.” The voice belonged to a powerful figure, a Sub-Taboo Hall elder, a Magic Lord.

Fear, cold and insidious, crept into the Dean’s heart. The implications of this revelation were far-reaching, threatening to destabilize the very foundations of the academy.

A wave of relief washed over me as the horrifying truth unfolded. So, it was a hidden spy within the academy who had marked me for death. The realization was both terrifying and liberating.

To think that someone I had shared the same libraries with had harbored such deadly intentions was chilling. A cold resolve hardened within me as I vowed to uncover the full extent of this insidious plot.