Chapter 454: Using His Own Weapon
Damon did not lose his cool.
Not yet.
Instead, he took a slow step forward and spoke with steady fury.
"How dare you… how dare you represent the Temple and act like a lowly thug. How dare you disregard morality and blaspheme the venerable name of the Temple and our creator, the Goddess..."
The entire room paused.
Even Inis.
It felt like Damon had just stolen his line—his accusation. The cleric had been just about to label Damon the blasphemer, but the little bastard beat him to it… and with flair.
Damon's gaze burned with righteous fire.
"Does the Temple now operate like the underworld? Or is that privilege reserved only for us 'lowborn mongrels'?"
He spat on the floor, eyes brimming with disgust.
"It couldn't… it wouldn't. Not the true Temple. No. It's heretics like you who sneak into the ranks of our great and benevolent Goddess and soil her name. You hide in robes, but you carry the stench of corruption. I, Damon Grey, swear it upon the graves of my late parents—I will not let scum like you disgrace the Temple."
He clenched his fist so tight it trembled.
"I'll spread word of your deeds to the entire Academy. I'll let every student know the kind of filth the Temple now tolerates in its holy halls."
Then, without waiting, he turned to the Headmaster.
"I beseech the Academy, in the name of the Goddess, to stand with me in removing this evil. I ask my fellow students to bear witness—and I ask the professors to record this man's deeds. You've all seen how he's disgraced the Temple… with his vile actions and dishonorable threats."
Inis trembled.
In all his years, no one—not once—had flipped the tables on him like this. He hadn't even had a chance to use his ultimate move: the heresy card.
Because Damon had used it first.
The professors around the room began whispering. Truth be told, none of them liked how overbearing the Temple had become. This was a neutral zone—and yet the Temple always found a way to pressure its will on the Academy.
But most of them were researchers, not fighters. Not one had the spine to say anything out loud.
Until now.
Damon's outburst cracked something loose.
They weren't men of faith. They were men of science.
And this boy had just given them the perfect opportunity to speak their minds without drawing direct fire.
Murmurs of agreement slowly built around the room.
The Headmaster smiled faintly and turned to Inis, his voice laced with ice.
"This is not the Temple. This is Aether Academy. And my students… are not for sale."
His eyes narrowed.
"You may have forgotten yourself, but this institution is neutral ground—an institute for training talents from every nation and creed. Not a place for power-hungry clerics to throw around zeni like weapons."
Inis swallowed thickly, sweat forming on his brow. He glanced once at Damon.
He would never forget this boy.
This no-name mongrel.
He took a deep breath and bowed stiffly.
"My apologies… I lost myself for a moment. My actions have… disgraced the Temple."
The Headmaster's glare only deepened.
"It has. And I will be sure your superiors hear every word of it."
Inis nearly coughed blood. The room may as well have been a battlefield. He had failed—utterly—to claim the most "accessible" Ascendant Armor, and now he'd been publicly humiliated.
The Headmaster never wanted him here in the first place. The Temple had forced their way in on grounds that it "concerned a death zone."
Now? He had no reason to stay.
"You may leave," the Headmaster said coldly.
Inis offered a strained smile, but his eyes never left Damon—those eyes were full of venom.
"Very well… but remember—even neutrality has its expiration date."
He turned to Damon.
"Damon Grey… I will remember you."
Damon smiled, a cold gleam in his eye as he met the threat head-on.
"Likewise. The feeling is mutual. I hope we meet again someday…"
'So I can kill you,' he finished inwardly.
Without another word, the cleric from the Temple left.
He came in proud.
He left in disgrace.
The Headmaster looked at Damon again… and sighed internally.
This boy needs a mental evaluation. He's definitely crazy.
With Inis gone, the professors visibly relaxed.
They asked Damon a few more questions, which he answered with bored politeness. It was exhausting, but they had stood by him in the confrontation, so he gave them that much respect.
Aether Academy had a reputation—one they lived by. Protective of its students. Resilient in the face of external pressure.
And more importantly… not afraid to bite back.
The Headmaster cleared his throat.
"Ahem. That will be all for today. The War Games aren't far off. After this, you'll be added back into the official rankings. The current highest-ranked student is Miss Faldren, based on total points…"
He paused.
"…But since she failed her oral report, you still hold the number one position."
He chuckled.
"The War Games will include warriors from around the world—many from other prestigious academies. It's bound to be a fascinating spectacle. I certainly hope you'll participate… on behalf of Aether Academy."
Damon smirked.
"Actually… I'd love to. But… I was planning to participate as a mercenary for any noble house. You know… money's tight."
The Headmaster's eye twitched.
He hadn't expected that.
Among the professors, one stood up. Professor Emeralda walked over to the Headmaster and whispered something into his ear.
He nodded.
"The top student gets a monetary prize, of course. We're not stingy with zeni."
Damon cleared his throat dramatically.
"Say no more. I had already been planning to turn down those shameless nobles trying to turn me into a sellsword. Aether Academy forever!"
Professor Emeralda sighed, rubbing her temple.
This pain in the ass was her student.
'Thank the stars he'll be a second-year when we resume. He'll be someone else's problem.'
She made a decision then and there: she would not be teaching second-years next term. No way.
'I only want to see fresh faces. No more Damons. One is already too many…'
Damon grinned.
"If that's all, then we'll be taking our leave—"
"Hold on," the Headmaster raised a hand.
"You still have to take a physical examination. Nothing serious—just the same tests you took when you first enrolled. Mana aptitude, combat response, the usual."
He stood.
"We'll use the arena. It has all the equipment we need in one place."
The other professors also stood—clearly intrigued.
Damon blinked.
The arena? But that was a public space… Why not use one of the private spaces?
Then it clicked.
'Those bastards are using me to show off.'