I Refused To Be Reincarnated-Chapter 860: The Pottery of Broken Authority

Maxwell rose, his fists clenched against his waist. His face contorted a little more each second Adam glared at him.

"How dare you order me?" Storms ignited in his eyes, drifting into streams around his furrowed brows. "Do it again."

To Adam, however, Maxwell’s scream sounded with the hollowness of shards held together into a pottery of broken authority. Smoke from burnt grass and charred soil swirled around them. The scent gripped his throat, as if wind tried to shove the toxic gas into his lungs. But he continued to glare.

Everyone watching likely believed he had gone mad, that nothing justified firing his cannon or beating Basile so much. That no matter what he did or said, he was guilty.

He didn’t feel like he was. It wasn’t about the mockery, the cruelty or even the injustice. Hypocrites like Maxwell were everywhere. But to watch him, a teacher, hypocritically deducting Basile one hundred points while being about to reward him one thousand from Elliot for "winning" as if he had resolved the problem. To hear him admonish a wounded Desmond for defending a friend without even bothering to free him from his restraints.

Could Adam call them friends—especially when the golem was the symbol of Elliot’s trust, a bridge to their shared dream he hoped would help the boy pursue it—if he ignored its destruction? For what? The obligation to respect someone unworthy? Fear of being punished? Why did he set up this performance, then? 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

A low, grating laugh left his lips as he commanded again. "You lost. Fair, square, humiliatingly, pathetically. Cough up our points before you do something foolish!"

Maxwell exhaled heavily, veins throbbing on his forehead like living organisms. He visibly strained his tense neck to keep his voice low as he delivered judgment. "For breaking every single rule of decency. I, Maxwell Vicar, Duke of Brineheart, sentence you to die."

"You’d better hurry." A playful smirk broadened across Adam’s face. He titled his head, tapping a forefinger on his jugular even as a wind cleaver condensed in Maxwell’s hands. "I wonder how the other teachers will react."

"They’ll understand." Maxwell raised his cleaver at Adam’s neck.

Students screamed from the bleachers, some covering their faces, others smiling vindictively.

From the throne room of the bastion, Elliot wailed, pleading for Maxwell to stop.

Desmond leapt down the facade, lightning boots crackling, roaring a raw-throated curse.

Though their distant call warmed his chest, Adam watched death in the eyes. His smirk turned vicious as the cleaver closed on his neck. Screeching gales ruffled his hair and forced tears from his eyes, making it hard to keep them open.

But he couldn’t miss the climax now, could he?

A heartbeat before wind carved his neck, a shadow wall erupted in its path. A light beam blasted at Maxwell’s feet in clear warning, and an articulated pincer gripped his dominant arm from behind. Burgundy ribbons tied his calves to the ground, forcing him to his knees.

"What’s the meaning of this?!" Maxwell snapped his eyes to Astride, Diane, Viktor, and Grimhild.

Adam squatted in front of Maxwell, snickering, "I warned you about doing something foolish, but once again, everyone but you is wrong. Or did you think the cannon’s blast and your deflection would have gone unnoticed?"

He identified Louis, Marcellus, and a couple of other teachers he didn’t know. Those who interfered were on his side. The rest remained neutral, he thought. But Grimhild. Really?

Before he could speak another word, Desmond yanked him back by the shoulder, as if Maxwell would rise to finish the job. "Are you alright?"

Adam cracked his neck from side to side, then raised his thumb. "My neck finds my face too beautiful to part ways."

"Not funny, you blue dork. You almost—"

"Not funny indeed." Haldris appeared beside them, not a trace of turbulence in the air.

Maxwell instantly stopped struggling, and the students lowered their heads. His single golden eye narrowed solemnly on Adam, his voice more weary than angry. "If you touch one of us, you’re touching us all. This sentence had been the exorcists’ motto for a long time. Against enemies. Right mindset on the wrong target."

"If we punish Adam with anything but death, we settle a precedent in which students are allowed to undermine a teacher’s authority," Maxwell called, his voice coated in mock righteousness.

"They must learn that magi are not to be provoked." Haldris paced before Maxwell, hands tucked behind his shirt’s suspenders, then turned toward Adam. He spread his arms towards the students watching from windows, corners of buildings, and roofs. "Look what you’ve done. You should have swallowed Maxwell’s pettiness and reported it to me. Witnesses, reason, you had it all. We could have settled the matter in private."

Adam shook his head. There would be no private agreement, not with someone stomping on his friend’s dreams because he was slightly stronger. He looked at Basile’s mangled frame. If he could not teach them how wrong it was, he hoped he at least taught students and teachers alike not to attack his friends.

A silence settled on the plain for a moment. Everyone believed Adam wouldn’t escape extreme punishment. However, Haldris stroked his grey beard, manipulating the flow of the conversation. "I remember hearing Teacher Viktor praise Elliot and Adam’s golem. Diane told me about their progress, and Kassel boasted about them joining Astride’s class. If a student undermining a teacher’s authority is unacceptable, isn’t it worse for a teacher to undermine his colleagues in public?"

"That’s not what I—"

Haldris interrupted Maxwell’s rebuttal with a stern statement. "If teachers aren’t united, students won’t respect them. I’ll close my eyes on both of your transgressions today." He glanced at Adam, then nodded. "How can students trust us if our words are as fleeting as the morning breeze? For winning the challenge, Adam, Elliot and Desmond get three thousand five hundred points each."

At his words, the emblems on their chests brightened.

But Haldris wasn’t over. "For having his Golem utterly destroyed, I reward Elliot an additional one thousand points." He glared at Maxwell before continuing, and the teacher felt as if he were back to his student days. "For Adam’s cruel but controlled beating of Basile, I deduct a hundred points. Everyone return to class."

He leaned toward Adam, patting his shoulder. "There won’t be a next time. Understood?"

Adam nodded before scrambling with his friends, while Haldris faded like a mirage.

He reappeared inside his study, where a single, obscured portrait hung over a thick desk. "His strategic mind makes him perfect to inherit the eyes." His lips twisted in a rare grimace as he swept the desk’s furniture with his clenched fist. "If we still had them. Curse your incompetence, Yann!"

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AN: What did Yann do? A hundred style points to whoever finds out. (Please don’t find the correct answer.)