Chapter 91: Meeting the Inquisitor
The medical staff rushed into the ring to load Marco onto a floating stretcher. The massive crowd of cheering and groaning students dispersed toward the exits to return to their dormitories.
Solomon checked his stream system to verify the influx of points in his account before turning toward his floating broadcast drone.
"That concludes the entertainment for today," Solomon announced. "I appreciate all the generous donations. Make sure to tune in next time. That’s what I want to say, but I guess you can’t turn off streams like that."
[User12]: bro secured the bag and dipped! legend!
[LazyCat]: gg. easiest points of my life.
[BloodKnight]: Rest well. You executed those techniques perfectly.
[GoonLord] gifted 500 Points: GO REST YOUR HANDS PLEASE!!!
High up in the spectator stands, the Grandmaster continuously scanned the emptying bleachers. He found absolutely no sign of the inquisitor anywhere in the facility.
"Where exactly is the Inquisitor?" the Grandmaster asked.
Lonard searched the crowd with a confused expression. "I have absolutely no idea."
"This is actually for the best," the Grandmaster decided. He navigated down the stone steps and approached the arena floor.
Solomon prepared to leave now that he had relieved his pent up frustration on Marco.
The Grandmaster suddenly stepped into his line of sight and tapped a glowing override rune on his ring.
The mechanical owl hovering near Solomon instantly deactivated its broadcast lens. The drone folded its metallic wings and perched quietly on Solomon’s shoulder like a completely normal bird.
"What are you doing?" Solomon asked while evaluating the disabled camera.
"You need to come to my office right now," the Grandmaster instructed.
"And why is that?"
"It is simply a standard administrative formality since my staff just issued you a brand new broadcast drone."
Solomon narrowed his eyes at the obvious excuse. He then noticed a familiar figure walking down the arena steps directly behind the Grandmaster. Solomon instantly shifted into a cautious stance. He recalled exactly how Lonard had tried to grab his greatsword back in the dormitory.
The Grandmaster noticed Solomon’s defensive shift. He glanced over his shoulder and sighed. "Do not worry about Lonard. He is just leaving the campus."
Lonard stopped walking. A flash of genuine annoyance crossed his features at being dismissed so casually. He quickly masked the displeasure with his trademark smile.
"I will definitely leave," Lonard replied while adjusting his white robes. "I just need to meet Balzac in your office first."
Solomon, the Grandmaster, and Lonard walked through the sprawling academy corridors and arrived at the administrative office. The Grandmaster pushed the heavy wooden doors open.
Someone was sitting directly behind the crystal desk in the Grandmaster’s personal leather chair. A floating holographic screen hovered over the desk, actively broadcasting a recorded replay of Solomon’s recent arena duel.
Balzac stood rigidly off to the side of the room with a deeply tense expression replacing his normally relaxed face.
The person sitting behind the desk wore flowing black robes. A completely flat, two-dimensional mask concealed his entire face.
The mask featured a striking geometric pattern of interlocking crimson triangles painted over a pitch-black surface without any raised contours or physical depth.
He was an official Inquisitor of the Church.
The Grandmaster frowned and pointed a finger at the desk. "What are you doing? What is the meaning of this? That is my personal seat."
The Inquisitor deactivated the floating video projection and stood up. "The chair looked incredibly comfortable. I simply decided to sit down since it was empty."
Lonard stepped forward and crossed his arms. "Why are you here? The Church already sent me to handle this entire investigation."
The Inquisitor brushed a piece of lint off his black sleeve. "I do not ask questions when the Church gives me a direct task."
The masked man turned his head to look directly at Solomon.
Balzac immediately stepped forward and inserted himself right between them to physically block the Inquisitor’s line of sight. Balzac maintained a hostile glare and kept his mouth completely shut.
The Inquisitor let out an exasperated sigh. "Move out of my way, Balzac. You abandoned your divine calling to play a pathetic babysitter for academy teenagers. Your disgraceful past holds zero authority over me."
The Grandmaster stepped forward and gestured toward the hallway. "The gate warden told me you headed straight for the dormitories."
"I did," the Inquisitor replied while resting his hands on the desk. "Along the way, I decided it would be rude to interrogate a student before formally greeting you. I came here instead, only to find an empty room and the traitor watching a broadcast."
The Inquisitor tilted his geometrically patterned mask toward Balzac before turning back to the Grandmaster. "So, I sat down and enjoyed the duel."
Balzac gripped the edge of the desk and narrowed his eyes.
"You have a well-known habit of interfering with Church matters," the Inquisitor continued. "I knew you would immediately try to hide Solomon away from me. I considered where you would take him, and your personal office was the most obvious location."
The Inquisitor spread his hands in a mocking gesture of welcome. "The real reason I waited here is because I knew you would bring him right to me. I was entirely correct."
Balzac shifted his footing to step between them again. Solomon placed a hand on his professor’s arm and smoothly pushed past him. He walked forward until he stood directly in front of the Inquisitor.
Solomon looked up at the black mask and maintained an entirely unchanging expression.
"We should skip the pleasantries and begin the interrogation right now," the Inquisitor said. "Everyone else needs to leave this office. I will speak with Solomon alone."
Balzac immediately stepped forward and crossed his arms. "Solomon is in no condition to undergo an interrogation today. He needs rest after everything he experienced inside that anomaly."
The Inquisitor tilted his geometric mask toward the floating screen projector. "He looked quite lively during that arena duel just a few minutes ago."
"That is exactly why he requires rest," Balzac replied smoothly. "He keeps pushing his body past its limits. He will suffer a severe physical backlash if he does not stop to recover."
The Inquisitor looked around the room and let out a sigh. "Why are all of you acting so tense? I am only here to ask him a few simple questions. This is not a trial."
The Inquisitor raised his hands and clapped them together.
A wave of black energy erupted from his palms and expanded outward. The darkness instantly consumed the room and separated the physical space. The Grandmaster, Balzac, and Lonard vanished from sight completely.
The isolated domain settled into a quiet void.
Solomon now stood entirely alone in the dark expanse with the Inquisitor.
