The Villain Professor's Second Chance

Count Valen's face twisted in irritation, his sharp features tightening as he scowled at me. It was a look I had grown accustomed to over the years—a mixture of disdain and barely veiled hostility. The Valen family had always seen the Drakhans as rivals, a sentiment that had been passed down through generations.

To Valen, every move I made, every success I achieved, was a direct affront to his own standing. The fact that his daughter, Elara, had sought my help only served to deepen the resentment.

"You're as insufferable as ever, Draven," Valen snapped, his voice laced with bitterness. "I'm here for my daughter, not to listen to your arrogance."

I merely raised an eyebrow, unperturbed by his outburst. "Then perhaps you should focus on what matters, Valen, rather than wasting time on petty insults."

Valen's nostrils flared, but before he could retort, my gaze drifted to the side, noticing the other figures who had gathered around the barrier. It wasn't just Valen who had arrived. The heads of the great houses of Regaria were all present, each of them drawn by the same concern that had brought Valen here. It was a rare sight to see them all together, a testament to the gravity of the situation.

Duchess Blackthorn stood apart from the others, her posture straight and elegant, exuding an air of icy composure. Her raven-black hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her piercing blue eyes surveyed the barrier with a calculating gaze. She was a woman of sharp intellect and even sharper words, known for her ruthlessness in both politics and magic.

Her presence was as cold and unyielding as the ice she commanded, and I could see the wheels turning in her mind as she assessed the situation.

To her right was Earl Falken, a man whose rugged appearance belied his identity as a magician. He was a battle-hardened warrior, known for his brutal efficiency in combat. His broad shoulders and scarred face gave him the look of a seasoned soldier, but the magic that crackled around him like a living thing was a reminder that he was far more than just a brute.

Falken was dangerous, not just because of his raw power, but because of his unpredictability. He fought like a berserker, throwing himself into battle with reckless abandon, and he enjoyed every moment of it.

And then there was Duke Lancefroz, the strongest knight in the kingdom and the ruler of Icevern. His presence was imposing, his muscular frame clad in the ornate armor that had become synonymous with his name. The Icevern family was known for their mastery of the blade, and Lancefroz was the pinnacle of that tradition.

His pale blue eyes were cold and unyielding, much like the icy landscapes of his homeland. He was a man of few words, preferring action to diplomacy, and his reputation as a warrior was unmatched.

It was an impressive assembly of power, the five heads of the great houses of Regaria, each of them representing a different aspect of the kingdom's strength. And all of them were here for the same reason—their children, their heirs, were trapped inside the Magic Tower University.

Lancefroz was the first to speak, his deep voice cutting through the tense silence. "Strange occurrences have been piling up lately," he said, his gaze fixed on the barrier. "This is the fourth incident."

"Fourth?" I echoed, tilting my head slightly. "There have been three that I am aware of—the demonic attack at the royal banquet, the Goblin King's rise in Icevern, and now this. What is the fourth?"

A rare smile touched Lancefroz's lips, though it was more a twist of amusement than anything else. "The change in Draven Arcanum von Drakhan."

I frowned, my gaze sharpening as I regarded him. "I haven't changed."

Lancefroz's smile widened, but he said nothing more, letting his words hang in the air. It was a taunt, a subtle dig at the rumors that had been circulating about me since the recent events. I had no patience for such games, especially not now.

"Let's stop with the jokes," I said coldly, turning my attention to Duchess Blackthorn. "Tell me, Duchess, does even the prodigy of the Blackthorn family find herself at a loss when faced with this barrier? Can you not break through it, even with your secret spells?"

A tense silence followed my question, the air thick with unspoken challenges. The Blackthorn family was known for their mastery of forbidden and esoteric magics, spells that were said to be passed down through their bloodline alone. It was no secret that they held certain powers in reserve, magic that could tip the balance in their favor in times of need.

But as I studied the Duchess, I could see that she was not posturing. There was a genuine unease in her gaze, a recognition of the barrier's complexity.

"I'm afraid I cannot," she replied, her voice steady but tinged with reluctance. "This barrier is… peculiar. It both sustains and destroys, a self-regulating mechanism that maintains its integrity. A wrong step could trigger its collapse from the inside. Whoever crafted this barrier is a master of their craft. It's powerful enough to contain even the Chancellor, whose strength is… formidable."

I nodded, digesting her assessment. It was consistent with what I had observed, but hearing it confirmed only solidified my suspicions. "I see," I said, my tone neutral. "A formidable opponent, indeed."

Earl Falken snorted, his rugged features twisted into a sneer. "Enough with the praise, Draven. What good is analyzing this if we can't act? We need to break through, not stand around admiring the enemy's work."

"Your methods are hardly suited for this, Falken," I replied, my voice cold. "You would brute-force your way through, and the barrier would likely explode. We would achieve nothing but disaster."

Falken bristled, but before he could retort, I continued, my gaze sweeping over the assembled nobles. "The Valens are not worth considering for this task," I added dismissively, "and the Iceverns, while skilled, are not accustomed to dealing with magic on this level. That leaves the Blackthorns, but as we've just heard, even their secret spells are ineffective here."

Valen, predictably, was the first to respond, his voice laced with indignation. "You're as arrogant and rude as ever, Draven. Do you truly believe that the Drakhan family has a method to dispel this barrier? Or are you just spouting nonsense to make yourself look superior?"

I turned to face him, my expression as unreadable as ever. "I have no need to make myself look superior, Valen. The facts speak for themselves."

He glared at me, his hands clenched into fists. "Then prove it. Show us that the Drakhans are more than just arrogant fools."

Without another word, I began to move toward the barrier, my steps measured and deliberate. The tension in the air was palpable, a mix of anticipation and fear that hung over the gathered nobles like a storm cloud.

"Watch out," Duchess Blackthorn called after me, her voice carrying a note of genuine concern. "This barrier has a powerful defense mechanism. It could kill you, even with your skills, Professor Draven."

I didn't break stride, my gaze fixed on the swirling mist that surrounded the Magic Tower University. "Nothing could kill me," I replied, my voice as cold and unyielding as the barrier itself.

The words were not a boast, nor were they meant to provoke. They were a simple statement of fact, a reflection of the truth that I had come to accept long ago. I had faced countless challenges, fought battles that had pushed me to the very brink of death, and yet here I stood. The barrier, no matter how formidable, was just another obstacle to be overcome.

As I reached the edge of the barrier, the mist pulsed and writhed, as if sensing my presence. The air around me grew colder, the weight of the magic pressing down on me like a physical force. But I remained unmoved, my mind already working through the calculations, the patterns that would allow me to unravel the barrier's defenses.

The nobles watched in silence, their eyes fixed on me as I extended my hand toward the barrier. The mist recoiled slightly, a brief flicker of resistance that was quickly subdued by the force of my will. I could feel the layers of magic that comprised the barrier, the intricate web of spells that held it together.

It was a masterful creation, one that would have confounded most, but it was not beyond my understanding.

The next part would be the defensive mechanism. Several magic circles, and surges of mana could be felt all around me as I continued my step. But it won't stop me.

Enjoy new chapters from мѵʟ

Lancefroz and Falken went unrest looking at the sight, but I simply stopped. And they widened their eyes.

All of the magic cast by the barrier is futile to me.

"A mere defensive mechanism won't kill me,"