The Last Godfall: Transmigrated as the Young Master-Chapter 136: Academic Excursion

The carriages slowed hours after leaving the academy. Vencian leaned back as the city thinned behind them. The air carried less smoke and more dust, and it reached him colder, as if the land had fewer reasons to hold warmth. He marked the distance by habit, counting turns and changes in grade, then let it go.

They disembarked near the ruins, students spilling out in uneven clusters. Professors raised voices, names called and checked, lists consulted twice. The academy crest looked smaller here, stitched on uniform that moved too freely in the open space. Stone remnants lay scattered across a shallow rise, walls reduced to ribs, their edges worn smooth.

Elias joined him as the groups were sorted, hands folded behind his back in a way that suggested restraint rather than ease.

"Long ride," Elias said.

"Farther than it appears on a map," Vencian replied. He glanced around. "The ground feels exposed. The city hides how quickly things thin out."

Elias followed his gaze. "The academy prefers destinations like that. Easy to observe behavior when there is little else to distract."

Vencian gave a short nod. "Mixed classes," he said. "Alchemy beside liturgy, geomancers paired with historians. A deliberate inconvenience."

"You see it too," Elias said, sounding relieved. "Cross-discipline pairing encourages reliance. Or irritation."

"With exams this close," Vencian said, "irritation wins."

Elias smiled faintly. "Marothil insisted it was essential. Practical grounding before theory calcifies."

Vencian watched a professor redirect two students who had chosen each other too quickly. "Choice removed tends to sharpen attention."

"Or resentment," Elias said. "Which can be educational in its own way."

They fell into step along the marked boundary, skirting a shallow trench that might once have been a foundation. Elias lowered his voice.

"Rulen remains in Ralan," he said. "Longer than expected."

Vencian kept his eyes forward. "Church work."

"Academy as well," Elias added. "Tolstall Forest occupies more resources than publicly admitted."

A flicker of memory rose, Quenya’s stillness when that forest had been mentioned before. Vencian set it aside, filed and labeled.

Elias hesitated. "When you spoke alone with him the other day," he said, "did he say anything that lingered?"

Vencian turned his head just enough. "Protocols," he said. "Pages of them. Church formalities age poorly."

Elias exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders. "Good."

They walked a few steps farther before Vencian spoke again. "The Dawnseer," he said. "Did he stay behind with him too?"

Elias’s expression shifted. "His health worsens. Quietly, for now. Arrangements are underway to return him to Coraeis."

"That soon," Vencian said.

"Yes."

Relief came first, brief and unwelcome, followed by a pressure he traced back to a single memory. The Dawnseer’s grip during the engagement night returned to him, the sudden intensity, the broken sentence forced into his ear.

Professor Marothil raised his hand, palm outward, and the scattered noise thinned. His voice carried well, trained for halls rather than fields, yet it held the students in place.

"You stand within Moraenor," he said, facing the broken stone. "Its founding traces to the third epoch, under the patronage of House Evenaxe, one of the pillars of the Banyth Compact."

Vencian listened as Marothil spoke of the Compact as a single state, bound by oath and mutual defense before borders hardened into nations known today as Airantis, Aurian and Sedron. The name Evenaxe surfaced again and again, paired with phrases of order and consolidation. Marothil guided them toward the remains of a broad structure at the center of the ruins.

"The judgment hall stood here," he said. "Governance occurred here, yes, but so did sentencing. Authority lived in the same space as punishment. That arrangement mattered."

He tapped his cane once against stone. "This hall existed to teach obedience. Justice was part of the language, yet hierarchy was the lesson. Placement, access, elevation, all of it spoke before a word was uttered."

Vencian pictured bodies arranged by rank, entrances assigned by title, sightlines designed to remind. The hall had not been built to persuade. It had been built to instruct.

Marothil let the silence work, then shifted.

"You will work in groups of four," he said. "Each group will select a section of the ruins. Determine its primary function, secondary uses, access logic, and what that space reveals about House Evenaxe’s authority. Produce a rough sketch. Present before departure."

His gaze moved across them. "Mixed skills are expected. Familiarity breeds comfort. Comfort dulls observation."

Students began to move, some quickly, others circling as if testing currents. Voices rose, names exchanged, glances calculated. A few groups formed with ease, habits reasserting themselves despite instruction.

Vencian remained where he was. Elias stood beside him, hands clasped in front, expression neutral.

"We attract no one," Elias said quietly.

"People already have their circles," Vencian said. "They see ours and keep walking."

"No one is even looking our way," Elias said.

"They made their choices early," Vencian replied. "Late additions invite effort."

Elias gave a small nod. "Effort tends to be avoided."

Vencian’s attention drifted briefly to the absence that had become harder to ignore. Rapheldor would have filled one place by now through sheer momentum, loud, confident, unconcerned. The tournament in the capital had claimed him instead. Competition over coursework had always been an easy choice for him.

They were still speaking when a familiar voice reached them from behind.

"Are you two planning to stand here until Marothil assigns you by force?"

Vencian turned. Aline had come up along the path between the fallen stones, hands clasped behind her back, expression open and amused, as though the decision had already been made.

Elias straightened at once. "Aline," he said, relief easing his shoulders.

Vencian inclined his head. He had seen her earlier among the forming groups, yet the choice still registered as intentional. Her gaze moved between the two of them, pleased, as if she had solved a small problem.

"I thought I might find you together," Aline went on. "Every time the academy claims to encourage novelty, it pushes the same people into the same corners."

Seris stepped into place beside her, close enough that distance became a decision rather than an option. Her posture remained composed, chin level, attention angled toward the ruins rather than the faces near her. The timing felt exact.

Aline turned slightly, including her. "Since we are all here," she said, "we may as well spare ourselves the dance of hesitation."

She gestured around them. "Four people. Mixed strengths. Familiar ground, at least in method. It saves time."

Elias nodded almost immediately. "That seems sensible," he said. "Marothil will approve."

Vencian watched Seris from the edge of his sight. She offered no glance in his direction. Her presence carried its own insistence.

"We have worked together before," Aline said, lightly. "We know how to divide a task and survive the result. That counts for something."

Elias allowed a small breath. "I agree," he said. "If you will have me."

Aline smiled at him. "Of course."

Vencian weighed the field again. The remaining students had paired off or were close to doing so. Options narrowed with every passing moment. Familiarity held risks, yet isolation held more.

"This arrangement functions," he said. "I see little reason to resist it."

Seris shifted her weight, a subtle adjustment. "That suits," she said, voice level, still aimed away from him.

Aline clasped her hands once, satisfied. "Then it is settled."

She stepped forward, already scanning the nearby stonework. "We should choose a section before it is claimed. The central hall will draw attention. Something adjacent may speak more clearly."

They moved together toward the edge of the ruins, the choice made quietly, and the work waiting.