Reincarnated as an Apocalyptic Catalyst-Chapter 64: Summon Shenanigans

Ronan had made progress, sure, but progress was still just a fancy way of saying he wasn’t a complete and utterly hopeless disaster. I needed him to be more than that. If he was going to be useful, he needed control—not just of his magic, but of himself. The parasite was a living conduit, doing the equivalent of what a super-powered toddler would do with a buster blade. This just meant I had to keep pushing him.

"Alright," I said, cracking my knuckles. "We’ve established you can not blow up the room when you try. Now let’s see if you can do it under pressure."

Mara made a noise of protest. "I don’t like where this is going."

I ignored her. "Ronan, I’m going to attack you."

Ronan blinked. "Why?"

Mara groaned. "I really don’t like where this is going."

I took a step back, flexing my fingers. "Because you need to learn how to use your magic instinctively, not just when you’re standing in one spot like a damn scarecrow."

Ronan tilted his head like he was processing something strange. Then he nodded. "Understood."

Mara pinched the bridge of her nose. "Caidan. Don’t."

"Too late," I replied, and then I moved.

The moment my foot left the ground, I reinforced my body, lunging straight for him. No spell, no warning—just raw physical force.

Ronan reacted, but not well. His magic flared around him like a shield, but instead of deflecting me, it surged outward, uncontrolled, a burst of force that sent both of us flying back in opposite directions.

I twisted midair, landing in a crouch. Ronan, on the other hand, slammed into the far wall, cracking the stone behind him. He blinked once. "I overcompensated."

I dusted myself off. "Yeah. Just a bit."

"Alright, buddy, let’s try again. But this time, don’t just let it explode outward like a kid with a cold who hadn’t learned to cover his mouth. Direct it."

Ronan pulled himself up, rolling his shoulders. His movements were less stiff now, more fluid. He was adapting little by little.

I darted forward again, feinting left before shifting right. Ronan’s magic flared—this time, more controlled. A barrier formed in an instant, just enough to absorb my momentum and redirect it. I hit the ground but didn’t go flying. That was already a step up.

Mara lowered her arms slightly, peeking through her fingers. "...Huh."

"See? He’s getting it."

Ronan tilted his head. "This is... easier than before."

"Well, yeah." I stretched, shaking out my limbs. "You’re actually thinking instead of just dumping magic everywhere like a drunk bard two-for-one night at the brothel."

Mara stepped in, "Please stop with these stupid jokes, you can tell he doesn’t understand them and I don’t want them taking space in my brain."

Ronan nodded slowly. "It is fine, he can joke. I understand Caidan."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "First of all–Mara... My jokes are delightful. As for you Ronan, please start responding with something other than ’I understand.’ It’s starting to feel like you might not actually understand."

Ronan blinked. "...I comprehend."

Mara stifled a laugh.

I glared at her. "You’re not helping."

She smirked. "I think I’m helping a lot."

Before I could fire back, the door to the training hall swung open, and a voice rang out.

"Caidan! Ronan! What the hell was that explosion earlier?!"

I turned, already knowing who it was before I saw her.

Mara’s expression shifted immediately. "Professor Aldric."

Oh, wonderful. The last thing I needed was a teacher poking his nose into this.

Aldric stormed in, eyes scanning the room. He zeroed in on Ronan, taking in the cracked wall, the faint hum of residual magic still crackling in the air. "Vairmont. Explain."

Ronan hesitated. His gaze flicked to me.

I sighed and stepped in. "Just a bit of extra training, professor. Making sure Ronan’s... performance in the courtyard wasn’t a fluke."

Aldric narrowed his eyes. "You’re training him?"

Mara gave me a look that said fix this, or we’re all dead.

I cleared my throat. "No, he’s far beyond my level, I just saw what he was capable of and wanted to lend a hand, y’know, anything I can do to help out."

Aldric turned his gaze back to Ronan. "Is that true?"

Ronan hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Yes."

Aldric studied him for a long moment. Then, to my surprise, he smirked. "About time you put that power to proper use, Vairmont. I was getting tired of watching you waste it on petty duels."

Ronan nodded once. "I comprehend."

Seriously Ronan?

Aldric exhaled. "Fine. But if you do destroy school property, I better not hear about it. Next time, take it to the reinforced dueling halls." He turned on his heel. "Get back to your lessons."

I waited until the door shut behind him before exhaling. "Well. That could’ve gone worse."

Mara looked at Ronan, then back at me. "I hate that you might actually be good at this."

"The best!" I turned to face Mara, a real smile escaping my lips and I stared, lost in her beauty for but a split moment.

She looked shocked as she took in my gaze, before beginning to blush slightly. "Don’t do that," she said defensively before turning away. "Let’s just go. We still have a hooded figure to deal with."

That was... Odd.

I glanced at Ronan. He met my gaze, still blank, still Ronan-but-not-Ronan. But something was settling into place.

I changed my focus to Mara, "So, what’s the plan?"

"We need to figure out who that hooded bastard was before they try summoning something even worse."

For once, she had a point I couldn’t argue with. I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. "Alright, fine. So where do we start? I don’t exactly have a directory of mysterious, robed terrorists who specialize in failed summonings."

Mara crossed her arms, her gaze flicking toward the direction of the ruined courtyard. "They were watching. Not running. That means they weren’t afraid of what happened... which means they probably expected it." ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

"Or caused it," I added.

She nodded, her expression grim. "Exactly."

That was concerning for more than one reason. Summoning magic wasn’t just risky, it was highly regulated. Even at the Academy, students weren’t supposed to attempt anything major without heavy oversight. For someone to pull off a ritual strong enough to create a Wraithborn—without anyone noticing until it was too late—meant either they were a genius, or they had resources and connections most students didn’t.

I frowned. "You think it’s one of the professors?"

Mara hesitated. "I don’t want to, but... if a student was powerful enough to pull this off, they’d be well known by now. And if it were some rogue outsider, how did they get inside the Academy grounds?"

That was a good question. The Academy was no joke when it came to security. Enchanted barriers, perimeter wards, and even the standard entry points required approval. Even for me, I had to both literally kill, and die for the opportunity to get inside. Either someone had a way around all of that, or they had help from the inside.

"So, where does that leave us?" I asked.

Mara tapped her fingers against her arm. "We need to retrace their steps. Figure out where they were before the attack. Someone had to see them. If we can find one person who noticed something strange before the summoning went sideways, we might have a lead."

I resisted the urge to groan. Talking to people wasn’t my strong suit. Manipulating them? Sure. But casually extracting information? That required social finesse I generally reserved for life-or-death scenarios. Still, she was right.

"Fine," I sighed. "Let’s start asking around. You handle the students, I’ll check in with the more... unsavory sources."

Mara gave me a suspicious look. "You mean the black market dealers and shady informants?"

I gasped, hand on my chest in mock offense. "You wound me, Mara."

She rolled her eyes. "Just don’t get arrested."

"No promises."

I started with the usual places. The people who made it their business to know things. The Academy had its fair share of rule-benders—students who dabbled in things they shouldn’t, merchants who conveniently ignored the fine print of Academy regulations and the occasional staff member who had their own interests outside of academia.

One such individual was Lirian, an enchanter who specialized in items the Academy definitely didn’t approve of. His shop, tucked behind one of the lesser-used corridors, was always stocked with trinkets that had just enough plausible deniability to not get him expelled.

I found him exactly where I expected, hunched over a desk cluttered with rune-engraved charms, muttering to himself as he worked.

I leaned against the doorway. "Busy day, Lirian?"

He jumped, knocking over a small pile of crystals. "Caidan. You can’t just sneak in here like that."

"I literally walked in."

He muttered something unkind under his breath, gathering the fallen stones. "What do you want?"

I let my gaze drift over the counter, eyeing a bracelet humming with faint magical energy. "Looking for information. Heard about that nasty incident in the courtyard?"

Lirian scoffed. "Heard about it? Half my customers have been whispering about it non-stop. Nobody knows who did it, but they sure as hell want to."

I leaned forward. "Anyone come in asking about summoning artifacts recently?"

He hesitated, just for a second. But it was enough.

"Lirian..." I dragged his name out, just enough to make him shift uncomfortably. "You wouldn’t be holding out on me, would you?"

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I don’t know who they were, alright? They came in a few nights ago, hooded up, and had weird voices—probably using a charm to disguise it. They asked about amplification runes. Specifically, ones used to stabilize unstable summonings."

I frowned. "Stabilize unstable summonings? You mean, the thing that attacked us today?"

Lirian grimaced. "That’s what it sounds like. I told them I don’t deal in that kind of stuff, but they weren’t buying it. I think they got what they needed somewhere else."

"Any idea where they went after?"

He shook his head. "No. But they left something behind."

Lirian reached under the counter, pulling out a small scrap of parchment. It was crumpled, edges slightly singed, but I could still make out the faint remains of an arcane symbol.

It was a modified binding rune. The kind used to tether a summon’s essence to a location. But the way it was drawn wrong, incomplete, at least according to what I had researched after the first summoning.

"It’s hard to tell how good they are. They could have sabotaged their own attempts to see how it would play out. There’s a good chance this was only the beginning."

Lirian raised a brow. "That... bad?"

"Oh, it’s worse than bad." I pocketed the parchment. "This means they’re going to try again."

Lirian paled. "Then you didn’t get this from me."

"Of course not." I gave him a wink. "You’re an upstanding citizen."

He scowled as I turned to leave, already planning my next steps.

After all was said and done, Mara headed toward her dorm, muttering something about needing to sleep before her brain exploded, and I headed to mine. Ronan gave me a stiff nod before walking off, his movements still too robotic. I felt like I could trust him, but I wasn’t about to let my guard down yet.

I made my way back to my room, feeling utterly exhausted from the day. Between fixing Ronan’s disaster of a personality, a summoning attack, and now the realization that someone wanted to make a Wraithborn, or even something worse, I had too much to deal with and not enough time.

Pushing open my door, I immediately knew something was off.

Nothing looked different. My things were where I left them, the bed untouched, the candles unlit. But something felt wrong. The air was too still, too expectant like the room itself was waiting for me to notice what had changed.

There it was... A single piece of parchment. Folded neatly. Placed dead center on my desk.

I closed the door behind me, locking it before stepping forward. No signature. No markings. Just the faint scent of aged paper.

I unfolded it, scanning the words written in elegant, almost lazy handwriting.

"You are not the only one watching."

My grip tightened around the parchment.

Great. Because this was exactly what I needed—another mystery.

I exhaled through my nose, reading the words again. No threats. No demands. Just a reminder.

Someone knew what I was up to, and only time could tell if they were with me, or against me.

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