Live Streaming Academy

Solomon checked the corners of the medical tent one more time to ensure his weapon wasn’t hidden behind a supply crate. After confirming it wasn’t there, he pushed the canvas flap aside and stepped out into the morning sun.

Just a few paces away, Yue, Gideon, King Shen, and Prince Ryu were huddled around a map table, discussing routes and logistical cleanups.

The moment Yue saw Solomon walking out of the tent, she stopped mid-sentence. She rushed over to him, her emerald eyes wide with concern. "Are you alright? Does your head hurt? We were incredibly worried when the healers could not figure out why you would not wake up."

"I am fine," Solomon answered bluntly, looking around the Azure Moon encampment. "Where is my sword?"

Yue and Gideon exchanged confused glances. "We do not know anything about your weapon," Yue replied, shaking her head. "You did not have it with you when you returned."

Solomon furrowed his brow. "Who brought me out of the rift?"

"It was the masked inquisitor who arrived with the Holy Knights," Yue answered.

Without uttering another word, Solomon turned on his heel and made a beeline straight for the Holy Knight encampment on the opposite side of the valley.

As he walked past the pristine white tents, every single Holy Knight stopped their duties to stare at him. Whispers rippled through the crusader ranks. They parted like the sea to let the silver-haired boy pass, their eyes filled with a mix of awe and deep-seated caution.

He easily identified the largest, central pavilion as the main command tent. He marched directly toward the entrance, but two heavily armored guards instantly crossed their silver halberds to block his path.

Solomon scowled. He cracked his knuckles, fully prepared to beat the shit out of both guards just to get inside.

"Let him in," a calm voice ordered from inside the pavilion.

The guards immediately uncrossed their weapons and stepped aside. Solomon pushed the tent flap open and walked inside.

The masked inquisitor stood near a tactical map.

"Where is my sword?" Solomon demanded immediately.

"It is good to see you awake, Solomon," the inquisitor greeted smoothly, completely ignoring the aggressive question.

Solomon stopped walking. He stared at the masked man for several long seconds, his expression morphing into a look of offended confusion.

The inquisitor tilted his head. "What happened? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"How do you know my name?" Solomon asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

The inquisitor let out a long sigh. "Did you seriously already forget about the interrogation back at the academy?"

Recognition finally flashed across Solomon’s face. "Oh. I just assumed all you inquisitor guys looked exactly the same."

"We do not," the inquisitor corrected flatly. "We wear different styles of masks indicating our specific ranks and divisions."

"Fascinating," Solomon deadpanned. "Now tell me where my sword is. You better return it right now if you do not want to—"

"It is still inside the rift," the inquisitor interrupted before Solomon could finish the threat.

Solomon did not waste another second arguing. He spun around, marched out of the command tent, and headed directly toward the swirling blue portal still being guarded by the Holy Knights.

The inquisitor quickly followed him out and fell into step beside the teenager as they approached the anomaly.

"Why are you coming with me?" Solomon asked, glancing sideways as they stepped through the spatial gateway.

"Because I am the only one who knows where your sword landed," the inquisitor replied, guiding them through the icy canyon.

They walked back out into the sprawling, cratered snowfield where the epic battle had taken place.

"What were you doing inside this rift before I showed up?" Solomon asked, kicking a piece of shattered ice out of his path.

"My sworn duty was simply to log and report the expedition progress of the Holy Knight vanguard," the inquisitor answered, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

"Do you have an actual name, or should I just call you ’Inquisitor’?" Solomon inquired.

"My given name is Xyllaquorinthalas," the inquisitor stated without missing a beat.

Solomon blinked, mentally attempting to process the utter gibberish he had just heard. He nodded slowly. "I see. I am just going to call you Triangles."

The inquisitor stared at him through his painted mask. "..."

"Are you Professor Balzac’s friend?" Solomon asked, changing the subject as they navigated the rubble.

"I am no friend of that lazy bastard," Triangles scoffed bitterly. "Balzac is undeserving of everything he possesses. He refuses to utilize his true potential. If he simply stopped sleeping all day and actually applied himself, he could have been something truly great within the Union."

Solomon looked at the masked man. "Who are you to decide and judge who is deserving of what? You clearly do not know everything about his current life or his motivations."

"I was not judging him," Triangles responded defensively. "I was merely stating my personal opinion. And last I checked, my opinions are my own."

Solomon let out a dry scoff. "There is a very thin line between stating an opinion and passing judgment based on your own arrogant expectations."

They finally reached the epicenter of the destruction. Eden’s Penance stood exactly where it had fallen, the tip of the executioner’s sword plunged deep into the cratered rock at the center of the massive, leveled valley.

Solomon turned to the inquisitor. "I could have easily found this massive crater entirely on my own. There was no need for you to come with me."

Solomon walked over, grabbed the hilt, and hauled the heavy weapon out of the stone, securely strapping it across his back. He then looked back at the masked man.

"Why didn’t you take the sword while I was unconscious?" Solomon asked bluntly. "I know the Church Union is hunting for this holy relic."

Triangles did not respond.

Solomon walked up to the inquisitor and held his right hand out.

Triangles looked down at the extended hand, completely confused by the gesture.

"This is called a handshake," Solomon explained dryly. "It is what normal people do."

Triangles hesitantly reached out and shook the boy’s hand. "I was just confused why you suddenly wanted to shake hands in the middle of a destroyed dungeon."

"Verification," Solomon replied, pulling his hand back. He thought to himself, ’His hand is completely fine. There are no burn marks or lightning scars. That means he genuinely did not even try to grab the hilt while I was passed out.’

"The sword is officially under the protection of the Live Streaming Academy," Triangles finally spoke up, brushing off his dark robes. "Furthermore, you severely underestimate the defensive capabilities of a high-tier holy relic."

Solomon simply shrugged his shoulders.

"How did you manage to defeat the Undead Paladin back in the Eden Kingdom?" Triangles asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.

"My stream was running the entire time I did that," Solomon responded casually. "Maybe you should just check out the VODs."

"Live streaming broadcasts are strictly prohibited within the borders of the Holy Empire," Triangles sighed. "We do not possess direct access to the network."

The inquisitor clasped his hands behind his back. "You should know that all ruined kingdoms where angels have descended legally belong to the Church Union. It is sacred ground. But your academy blatantly interfered, bypassed our sovereign rights, and claimed the territory as an open labyrinth for their students. The Church does not forget such transgressions."

"I do not know the political history, and I honestly do not care," Solomon replied, turning to leave the crater.

"The Grandmaster of your academy is an incredibly skewed and manipulative individual," Triangles warned, matching his pace. "You need to be very careful around him. He hides his true ruthless nature behind a polite smile. He orchestrates disasters and sacrifices pawns just to maintain the academy’s supremacy across the realms."

"Of course," Solomon countered smoothly. "Anyone can easily become the villain in someone else’s story if the storyteller portrays themselves as the ultimate good."

Triangles let out a long, exhausted sigh. "You sound exactly like Balzac when you make sarcastic remarks like that."

Just as they neared the exit portal, the inquisitor raised his hand. He channeled a brief pulse of spatial magic and conjured two objects into his palm. He held his hand out toward Solomon.

Solomon looked down and saw two flawless rubies glowing with intense, icy energy. "What is this?"

"These are the crystallized eyes of the Winter Snow Serpent," Triangles explained. "They are the only materials left behind after your final attack completely vaporized the rest of the boss. I found them lying in the crater when I was looking around. I couldn’t even find anything else. Even the scales of the winter snow serpent would have been useful and valuable resources."

Solomon was genuinely surprised by the act. He took the rubies and looked at the masked man. "Why would you give these to me? You could have easily kept them for yourself, sold them for a fortune, and I never would have known they existed."

Triangles turned around and walked toward the swirling blue vortex. He paused at the threshold and spoke without looking back.

"Balzac is a kind person with a pure heart and soul, even if his lazy personality is incredibly abrasive," Triangles murmured, his voice carrying a profound weight.

"Despite our differences, I simply cannot bring myself to betray the pureness of the ideals we once fought for together by stealing from his student in the dark."

The inquisitor stepped through the portal, leaving Solomon standing alone in the freezing canyon.

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