EX-Rank Villain: Rise Beyond Fate-Chapter 63 - 26 – Dagger Behind the Smile

Classes resumed. The halls filled with voices again, but tension lingered beneath the surface — quiet, constant, like the hum before a storm.

No one spoke of the bodies. No one mentioned the disappearances.

The academy wore a calm mask.

But Lucien had always been good at seeing the cracks.

In Magical Symbolism and Formation, he sat near the window, arms folded. His eyes didn’t follow the lecture. They were on a new student — two rows down, one column over.

Flawless posture. A little too composed.

Lucien didn’t look at him twice. Didn’t react.

But from the shadows beneath the student’s desk, a sliver of black mana pulsed.

Lucien’s soldier was watching.

---

Later that night, deep within a sealed chamber beneath the training grounds, Lucien stood over a table scattered with parchment — maps of the academy, attendance logs, surveillance patterns.

A shadow rose beside him and knelt. Its voice was a low murmur only Lucien could hear.

> "Target writes coded reports. One message interrupted. Routed toward southwest wing. Faculty restricted zone."

Lucien gave a faint nod.

> "Keep watching. Log every movement. Do not engage yet."

His tone was flat, surgical.

There was no satisfaction in the hunt. Just process.

One lead at a time.

---

Two days passed.

The new student followed routine perfectly. Too perfectly.

He laughed at the right moments. He failed two minor tests—just enough to seem believable.

Even his handwriting matched student records.

But Lucien wasn’t tracking him anymore.

He was tracking the recipient of the message that never made it out.

And the trail led not to a dormitory...

...but to the west faculty wing.

---

That night, one of Lucien’s shadows followed a man.

A professor. Mid-level. Taught Arcane Reagents.

Well-liked. Always on time. Known for his calm nature and easy explanations.

At midnight, the professor left his chamber and moved into an unused alchemical lab.

He muttered something under his breath — an incantation woven in old tongue, the dialect buried by the central kingdoms years ago.

The shadow recorded everything.

Then slipped back into the void.

---

Lucien sat alone in the greenhouse, moonlight seeping through the crystal ceiling.

A journal lay open beside him, pages half-filled with his own writing — dates, paths, potential motives.

He tapped one finger against the cover.

"So it’s a teacher."

He didn’t seem surprised.

Didn’t seem angry.

Just... slightly more focused.

---

The next day, the professor smiled warmly while handing back graded papers.

Lucien took his without a word, without a glance.

No acknowledgment. No tension.

He didn’t need to act.

The shadow had already begun tracing the professor’s path. It confirmed the sigil stitched into the lining of his inner robe.

Not a fake this time.

The real thing — Liberation’s mark, concealed with precision magic.

---

Late that evening, Lucien stood on the tower roof, wind rustling his coat.

A shadow emerged beside him and whispered.

> "Confirmed. Two meetings in the past week. Entry to sealed section of archives granted by false authorization seal."

Lucien’s expression didn’t change.

He looked down at the academy courtyard, where students laughed under the lantern glow.

A soft, almost detached voice left his lips:

> "We’re getting close."

---

And far below... deep within the academy archives...

The professor walked past a locked vault and placed a silver ring into a carved recess.

The door clicked.

Inside, scrolls sealed by the founding heads of the academy hissed with enchantments, fading as he stepped in.

He reached for a single scroll with trembling fingers.

Behind him, the shadows moved.