The Villain Professor's Second Chance-Chapter 432: The Professor’s Abstract Review

Amberine stumbled, her foot catching on the smooth marble floor as she came face to face with Draven. The scent hit her first—an almost intoxicating mix of aged parchment, incense, and something sharp like freshly struck flint, with just a hint of something else that was both foreign and familiar. It was a scent that seemed to settle in her senses, evoking warmth, safety, and an underlying unease. It felt like stepping into an ancient library, one filled with old secrets and untold power.

She stood there, the smell wrapping around her like a cloak, almost pulling her towards him. It was oddly comforting, yet disorienting. It made her feel safe, but also left her feeling like she was teetering on the edge of something powerful and unpredictable. She tried to regain her composure, blinking to clear her mind, the scent still lingering, making her feel as though the very air had changed with his presence. There was a magnetism to it, a strange allure that tugged at her in a way she couldn’t quite describe.

"Get a grip," she scolded herself internally, trying to shake the feeling off. She took a deep breath, the scent of him still in the air, and then her eyes widened in realization. Of course, it was him. Draven. He stood in front of her, his sharp eyes already focused on her, his presence dominating the narrow hallway.

She felt her cheeks flush, embarrassment flooding through her. Why was she reacting like this? It was just Draven. The cold, distant Professor Draven. He wasn’t supposed to make her feel like this, wasn’t supposed to make her heart skip a beat just by standing there. She forced herself to straighten her posture, her face determined as she met his gaze.

Draven raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. His face was expressionless, his eyes giving nothing away. There was a moment of silence, a tension between them that Amberine couldn’t quite place. Then, his lips parted, and his voice broke the stillness.

"It seems that everything went smoothly," he said, his tone cold, indifferent. But there was something else in his words—a note of curiosity, or perhaps even approval. It was fleeting, almost imperceptible, but Amberine caught it. Her heart fluttered, her eyes widening slightly as she stared at him.

"Y-yes," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper, but before she could say anything more, before she could even thank him for… whatever it was she wanted to thank him for, Draven turned. His coat swept behind him, the fabric flowing elegantly as he moved, and without another word, he walked away, entering the large presentation room where the peer review was being held.

Amberine stood there, staring at the door long after it had closed behind him. She let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing as she finally allowed herself to move. There was a mixture of relief and awe that settled over her—relief that he had acknowledged her, that he had noticed her efforts, and awe at how easily he commanded the room. She was elated, yet rattled. His presence had left her shaken, like a small boat on a stormy sea. She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"You’re hopeless," she muttered to herself, taking a deep breath before turning away, her heart still pounding in her chest.

The presentation room seemed to shift the moment Draven entered. The air grew thick, charged with an electric energy that was both exhilarating and intimidating. The reviewers, who had previously been discussing the earlier presentations with a measured calm, fell silent, their attention shifting to the figure now making his way towards the podium. There was a sense of anticipation, a ripple of something powerful passing through the room as everyone seemed to sit up straighter, their eyes fixed on him.

Draven walked with purpose, each step measured, his gaze focused and sharp. The reviewers’ expressions changed, a few of them exchanging glances, their interest piqued. He didn’t need to announce himself; his reputation had done that for him long before he had even set foot in the room. The students in the audience, the scholars who had gathered to learn, all seemed to collectively hold their breath as Draven approached the center of the stage.

He stopped before the podium, his eyes scanning the room for a moment before he began. His voice was steady, commanding, the kind of voice that left no room for doubt or question.

"Good morning, esteemed colleagues," he began, his tone as cold and precise as ever. "Today, I will be presenting my findings on four different topics. We will start with the first research: ’Harmony Between Chaos and Necromancy: Balancing Disparate Forces’."

There was a soft murmur in the crowd, a few of the reviewers leaning forward, their eyes widening slightly. Draven continued without pause, his words flowing smoothly, each one carrying weight.

"The core of this research lies in the balance between two opposing forces: chaotic magic, which is inherently volatile, and necromancy, which is grounded in control over death. The challenge has always been finding a way to merge these forces without risking destabilization," he said, his voice growing more intense, the cadence almost hypnotic.

As he spoke, he raised a hand, and a series of glowing symbols appeared in the air around him. They shimmered with an ethereal light, runes of chaotic energy intertwined with the dark, intricate glyphs of necromancy.

"Balancing these forces is akin to alchemical equilibrium," he explained, "except here, the stakes are far higher. Any imbalance can lead to catastrophic consequences—and yet, when properly balanced, the synergy can enhance both the destructive power of chaos and the control inherent in necromancy."

The room was captivated. The reviewers watched the glowing runes as they twisted and danced in the air, forming complex sequences, each one perfectly aligned, perfectly controlled. There was an elegance to it, a beauty that only someone with Draven’s understanding could bring forth. The reviewers nodded, their faces filled with appreciation, some even jotting down notes as he spoke.

Draven shifted seamlessly to his second topic, "Familial Ideologies and Magic: Tracing the Origin Attributes in Bloodlines." A genealogical chart appeared in the air beside him, glowing softly, each line representing a family, a lineage, the path of magic passed down through generations.

"Magic, as we know, is not merely a learned skill," he said, his eyes scanning the room, meeting each reviewer’s gaze. "It is often inherited, passed down from parent to child, influenced by the traits of the bloodline. Through extensive study of ancient texts and genealogical records, I have traced how certain magical attributes have evolved over time, influenced by familial ideologies and external factors."

He gestured towards the chart, which shifted to highlight key figures—mages from history whose magical attributes had defined their bloodlines. "This research is not only about understanding how magic is inherited, but also how it influences personality and magical prowess. There is potential here to manipulate these attributes—to intentionally enhance or suppress specific traits."

There was a moment of silence, a tension that filled the room as Draven’s words hung in the air. The reviewers were captivated, their expressions a mix of fascination and unease. He let his words settle, his gaze meeting that of one of the reviewers, a silent challenge in his eyes.

Without missing a beat, Draven moved on, the air shifting once again as the third topic was introduced. "The Dungeon Core Phenomenon: Mechanisms Behind the Emergence of Dungeons."

The room seemed to hold its breath as he began, a map of the continent appearing above him, glowing lines representing ley lines running through the land. "Dungeons are not random phenomena," he said, his voice firm. "They are a product of converging ley lines, areas where the magical energy is dense enough to form a core—a self-sustaining entity that draws in creatures and creates an environment that feeds on the mana it gathers."

The diagram shifted, showing the flow of mana, the way it pooled and converged, the formation of a dungeon core. "There is a symbiotic relationship here," Draven explained, "between the dungeon core and the creatures within it. The core provides sustenance in the form of mana, while the creatures protect and maintain the core. It’s a delicate balance, one that is both fascinating and dangerous."

The reviewers exchanged glances, astonishment clear in their expressions. Draven’s analysis of the ley lines, the way he had mapped the dungeons, the clarity with which he spoke—it was groundbreaking. He had taken a concept that had been shrouded in mystery and brought it into the light, laying it out for all to see.

Finally, Draven moved to his fourth and final research, "Mana Flow Disruption and Stabilization: Identifying and Repairing Imbalances in Magical Systems." He gestured, and a series of sigils appeared, each one glowing with a different intensity.

"Mana disruptions can occur for a variety of reasons—environmental damage, misuse of magic, natural shifts in the flow of ley lines. These disruptions can have catastrophic effects on both the environment and those who rely on the mana flow."

He raised his hand, and the sigils shifted, forming a complex pattern. "Using these stabilization techniques, we can identify areas of imbalance and repair them, restoring the natural flow of mana. These techniques involve the use of specially-crafted sigils, designed to align with the disrupted flow and stabilize it. I will now show footage of the stabilization process."

A projection appeared, showing a scene of mana flowing through a damaged ley line. The sigils glowed, their light wrapping around the ley line, the mana flow slowly becoming steady, the disruption fading. There was a collective gasp from the audience, the room filled with awe as they watched the process in real time.

Draven stood tall, his eyes scanning the room, his presence commanding as he delivered his final words. "These studies are ongoing," he said, his voice calm, steady. "For those attending the symposium, I expect further insights and discussions on these findings." Discover exclusive content at novelbuddy

He bowed his head slightly, signaling the end of his presentation. For a moment, there was silence, the room stunned by what they had just witnessed. Then, slowly, the reviewers began to applaud—a genuine, respectful applause that filled the hall. The other scholars joined in, their admiration clear, unable to deny the magnitude of what they had just seen.

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From the hallway, Amberine watched, her eyes wide, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never seen anything like it. The level of knowledge, the control, the confidence—everything about Draven’s presentation was beyond anything she had ever imagined. As the applause echoed through the hall, Amberine whispered, almost to herself, "He is out of this world."

Her cheeks flushed slightly as she realized the admiration in her voice, but she couldn’t help herself. Draven had once again proven just how powerful, how knowledgeable, how unattainable he was. And yet, there was something about him that pulled her in, something that made her want to know more, to understand what lay beneath that cold, indifferent façade.