Chapter 57 — Scheme II

"...It did."

The figure already standing in the garden replied in a low, emotionless voice without turning around.

"Did you really plan all of this from the very beginning? Every single detail?"

The purple-haired youth’s voice carried genuine disbelief and something that might have been concern.

"Or was it just an incredibly lucky fluke that every piece happened to fall perfectly into place in the puzzle?"

"You already know the answer to that question, Adrian."

"Yes, I suppose I do know some of it. You specifically told me to carefully spread the news of the commoners’ gathering to Leonard’s group and make sure it reached his ears.

But I genuinely didn’t think that you’d planned everything that happened after that initial fight..."

Adrian paused, his expression becoming increasingly complex as realization dawned.

"You predicted all of it, didn’t you... Damian? You never planned on being a part of the Student Council in the first place."

Yes.

The person standing calmly in the garden, bathed in crimson moonlight, was none other than Damian Valcor himself.

When Edrin and the other talented commoners had first approached Damian weeks ago with the sincere hope that he would lead them, that he would become their Support against Noble oppression–

That very same day, Damian had secretly contacted Adrian Murdock and specifically asked him to spread carefully worded news about the commoner gathering to Leonard’s social group.

At that time, Adrian hadn’t understood his true intentions at all.

He’d thought perhaps Damian simply wanted to provoke a minor confrontation, maybe teach the Nobles a small lesson.

But looking at what had actually happened today, the scale of it, the brutality, the political implications, the fundamental shift in Academy dynamics–

It was abundantly clear that Damian had intended from the very beginning to make absolutely sure that commoners and Nobles would have a violent, undeniable falling out.

That there would be no going back to the previous uneasy status quo.

"Why..."

Adrian asked, genuine confusion and maybe even fear, written clearly on his aristocratic face.

"Why go to such extreme lengths? Why engineer something so brutal and potentially dangerous?"

Damian was silent for a long moment, still not turning around, still staring at that blood-red moon.

When he finally spoke, his voice was cold and measured, like a professor explaining simple mathematics.

"They approached me with the intention that I would lead them out of oppression.

They wanted my support, my protection, my strength to help them escape the systematic suppression they’d faced their entire lives."

He paused, letting that sink in.

"But if I simply help them from the very start, if I hold their hands and shield them from every hardship...

These new students will never truly understand what real suppression feels like. They’ll never comprehend the depth of the problem they’re facing."

Damian’s hands clenched slightly at his sides.

"They wouldn’t develop genuine unity forged in shared suffering. They wouldn’t know the true value of what I’m offering them.

So letting them experience brutal, undeniable suppression firsthand, letting them feel it in their bones, in their blood, in their broken ribs... is the only effective way to make them understand."

His voice grew colder.

"Any words that I might say to them... anything they might casually hear from sympathetic seniors in comfortable conversations... none of that would have any real, lasting impact.

Words are cheap. Pain is real. Memory written in blood doesn’t fade."

Adrian felt a chill run down his spine despite himself.

"But..." Damian’s tone shifted slightly, becoming almost amused. "It’s not like I directly asked those Noble idiots to be so completely intolerable and violent.

As soon as that fool Leonard received the news you spread, he summoned his subordinates and did absolutely everything by his own arrogant will."

"You knew he would react exactly that way. That’s precisely why you specifically wanted me to spread the news among his subordinates, not among Micheal’s group or Iris’s faction."

Adrian said with dawning comprehension, a knowing look entering his purple eyes.

"Indeed. You’re not as slow as you pretend to be, Adrian."

Damian’s voice carried a hint of approval.

"Micheal is no fool despite his Noble upbringing. He has genuine intelligence and at least some capacity for strategic thinking.

And Iris might initially seem like just another arrogant, spoiled Noble brat..."

He paused thoughtfully.

"But after carefully observing her behavior patterns for several days, I’ve come to understand her true nature quite well.

She’s a cunning girl beneath that mask of arrogance. Genuinely cunning and calculating. She wouldn’t have taken such obvious bait so easily."

Adrian remained silent, processing this.

He was starting to find this seemingly straightforward commoner student extremely, disturbingly scheming.

From the very first day Damian had arrived at the Academy, it had seemed as if he simply didn’t care about anything related to student politics or social dynamics.

He’d joined regular classes for only two days total, and afterward just attended the mandatory theory classes while skipping everything else.

He’d appeared completely disinterested in Academy social life.

And yet...

Despite that apparent disengagement, he’d somehow gained an incredibly deep understanding of nearly everyone’s behavioral patterns, motivations, and psychological weaknesses.

How?

When had he been observing so carefully?

"What about all the injuries and serious mental trauma that those commoner students suffered today?"

Adrian asked, his voice carrying an edge now, still feeling that all of this was simply too extreme, too cruel to people who’d already suffered enough.

"Some of them looked absolutely shattered. Broken. I was there, you know. Mixed in the crowd, watching everything unfold."

He’d seen their complete psychological collapse up close.

He’d witnessed the absolute despair in their eyes as they were beaten down, humiliated, crushed.

He understood intimately the kind of psychological shadows they might carry from this traumatic episode for years to come.

All of this...

It just didn’t sit right with him at all.

He was, after all, a Murdock, heir to one of the thirteen great Imperial Families.

His family had always maintained a reputation for being genuinely fair toward commoners and treating everyone with basic human dignity.

This level of calculated manipulation that caused real suffering to innocent people...

It violated everything he’d been raised to believe in.

Damian finally removed his gaze from the crimson moon and, for the first time since Adrian’s arrival, turned to look directly at him.

His face, now completely without scars, surprised Adrian momentarily.

Damian looked more like an elegant young scholar or perhaps a noble lord than the intimidating, battle-scarred revolutionary who’d challenged the entire Academy’s social construct after being enrolled for barely a week.

But his eyes...

His crimson eyes were cold. Ancient. Carrying weight that no fifteen-year-old should possess.

"It was just a fight, Adrian. They got beaten down badly, yes. So what?"