Investing in My Yandare Villainess Fiancée:Each Reward Fuels My Growth

Chapter 65: Investment 65: The Long Way Home

They found the three missing instructors deep beneath the throne room, chained within a cramped, damp cell carved directly into the bone-veined stone—Pyria, Xuyie, and Roven, all battered, malnourished, and barely conscious, but alive.

"Pyria!" Neuman, still leaning heavily on Edith’s shoulder for support, nearly collapsed at the sight of his colleague chained against the far wall. "You’re—thank the Sky Father, you’re alive."

"Neuman?" Pyria’s cracked lips curled into a weak, exhausted smile. "Took you... long enough."

"I got a little held up," Neuman said dryly, already working to shatter the enchanted restraints binding her wrists. "Being tortured for information tends to slow a man down."

"Excuses, excuses." Even chained, starved, and barely conscious, Pyria couldn’t resist one last jab.

Jin made short work of the remaining restraints on Xuyie and Roven, green mana dissolving the dark enchantments with barely a flicker of effort. Edith immediately set to work stabilizing all three instructors with healing magic, her exhaustion visibly straining against the sheer volume of injuries she now had to address.

"How long were you three down here?" Rose asked quietly, kneeling beside Roven as he struggled to sit upright.

"Since before the expedition even began," Roven rasped. "That student who ambushed us in the auditorium—it wasn’t a student at all. It was one of the Bug Lords in disguise. We never stood a chance."

"We tried to warn the higher-ups," Xuyie added weakly, "but our messages never made it out. This entire dungeon’s been compromised from the inside for weeks."

"Well." Jin straightened, glancing around the ruined throne room with the same lazy expression he always wore, as though he hadn’t just erased three ancient horrors and their mother from existence. "Good news is, it’s not compromised anymore. Bad news is, we’ve still got a long walk back to civilization ahead of us."

"Actually," Neuman said, pulling a small, tarnished emblem from within his ragged cloak, "we might not."

He pressed his thumb against the emblem, and a soft golden light pulsed from its center.

"Emergency evacuation ward," he explained. "Only works once every instructor’s authorization signature is present. I’ve been carrying mine this whole time, hoping I’d live long enough to use it properly."

"You had an escape route this whole time," Deria said flatly, "and you didn’t use it?"

"It requires all four instructor signatures to activate a portal large enough for the entire expedition," Neuman said, gesturing toward Pyria, Xuyie, and Roven. "Which, as you may have noticed, were somewhat difficult to gather while three of my colleagues were chained in a dungeon cell."

"Fair point," Deria admitted.

The four instructors gathered in a loose circle, pressing their palms against Neuman’s emblem simultaneously. A massive circle of golden light bloomed across the throne room floor, wide enough to accommodate the entire surviving expedition once Jin used the hive-mind connection—still faintly threaded through dozens of plant seeds scattered across the dungeon—to summon every remaining student toward the portal’s location.

It took nearly an hour for everyone to gather. When the last of the shaken, exhausted students finally stepped through the shimmering golden light, the portal snapped shut behind them with a soft, final chime.

---

They emerged into the familiar, sunlit courtyard of Adonite Academy, blinking against daylight none of them had seen in over a week.

A tall man in flowing dark blue robes stood waiting at the courtyard’s center, silver hair pulled back neatly despite the obvious haste with which he’d clearly dressed—one boot laced, the other not, his robe fastened crookedly at the collar.

"Professor Dermiurge," Leonard said, voice cracking with relief at the sight of a familiar, trusted face.

"I came the very moment I heard." Dermiurge’s normally composed expression was tight with barely restrained worry as his gaze swept across the battered, exhausted crowd of students. "I was at my estate when the alert came through. Didn’t even bother changing properly." He glanced down at his mismatched boots and let out a short, humorless laugh. "Rather glad none of you are in a position to judge my wardrobe right now."

"We’re just glad you’re here at all, sir," Rose said quietly.

Dermiurge’s expression sobered fully as he took in the full scope of the situation—the missing faces among the crowd, the visible exhaustion, the four instructors leaning on each other for support.

"I owe every single one of you an apology," he said, voice heavy. "This expedition should never have put you in this kind of danger. I failed in my duty to protect you, and I intend to answer for that fully before the academy board."

"With respect, Professor," Elliot said, Seria still leaning weakly against his side, "we’re the ones who fought. We’ll take the credit for surviving it."

A faint, exhausted smile touched Dermiurge’s lips. "Fair enough, Mr. Reingard."

He straightened, addressing the entire courtyard now, his voice carrying with practiced authority despite his obvious fatigue.

"Given the extraordinary circumstances of this expedition, and the very real trauma many of you have endured, the academy board and I have agreed—effective immediately—that all students will be granted an extended spring recess. Two full weeks, beginning today."

A ripple of exhausted, disbelieving relief swept through the crowd.

"Use this time to rest," Dermiurge continued. "To heal. To return home to your families, if you’re able. Adonite Academy will resume regular instruction upon your return, and we will discuss what happened here in far greater detail once everyone has had proper time to recover."

He paused, gaze drifting briefly, almost imperceptibly, toward Jin—a flicker of quiet, knowing acknowledgment passing between them that none of the other students caught.

"You’ve all done something remarkable today," Dermiurge said finally. "Go home. Rest. You’ve earned it."

As the crowd of students began to disperse, exhausted but alive, Elliot felt Seria’s hand slip quietly into his own.

"Two weeks," she said softly, leaning her head against his shoulder. "What will you do with yours?"

Elliot considered the question for a long moment, the weight of the past week’s horrors still fresh, still raw, but beneath it, something steadier—gratitude, relief, and the quiet, growing certainty that he wasn’t facing any of it alone anymore.

"Go home," he said finally. "See my family. And maybe, for once, actually get some rest."

Seria smiled faintly, squeezing his hand.

"Only if I can come with you."

He glanced down at her, something warm settling in his chest despite the exhaustion weighing down every inch of his body.

"I wouldn’t have it any other way."

Neither of them could have known, in that quiet, sunlit moment of relief, just how far from restful the coming two weeks would actually be.