Chapter 65

It was late in the afternoon, most classes were already finished. Kana followed Professor Dufer in silence. Her curiosity peaked—she wanted to ask what this was all about—but her nerves kept her quiet. What did they find out about her? Or worse… about them?

Professor Dufer knocked once at the principal’s office. A raspy voice answered immediately, “Come in.”

Inside, Principal Light stood and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. “Come, have a seat.”

He chuckled as they sat. “Professor Dufer is quite bad at judging people.”

Kana blinked, unsure if that was meant to be an insult or praise.

“You’re his third—no, maybe fourth—chosen student,” the principal continued. “And the first from the copper class.”

Principal Light studied Kana’s puzzled expression and tilted his head. “You have no idea why you’re here, do you?”

Kana shook her head slowly. “No, sir.”

Principal Light sighed in mock exasperation. “Seems Professor Dufer isn’t as passionate as he once was.” He laughed again, while Professor Dufer scratched his cheek, clearly used to the principal’s antics.

“Can we begin, Mr. Light?” Dufer grunted.

Principal Light leaned forward. “Little Kana, some of you may know that my class is [Sage]. Because of that, people often seek me out to pass on ancient arts—family techniques and sacred skills. Not to their own children, but to someone who meets certain… conditions. I’m the assurance.”

He glanced at Dufer. “I assume he’s already told you about the Bane Dagger Arts?”

“Yes,” Kana nodded.

“He’s probably shown it to you. And you couldn’t replicate it perfectly, could you?”

Kana nodded again. She remembered the demonstration. The flow of the movements wasn’t exactly like the shadow man though both of them were deadly. She’d tried to copy it multiple times. Her mind could picture it flawlessly, yet her body refused. Something always felt off. As if some mysterious force was stopping her similar to when she was trying to replicate the movement of the shadow man.

She even remembered Professor Dufer laughing at her efforts when she tried to imitate him.

Principal Light clasped his hands. “One of my skills is [Oath Bind]. It is similar to how the contract works. If you accept, you’ll have to speak and follow its conditions faithfully. If you fail to meet them… you’ll get the penalty. In your case, you’ll forget everything about this. Even this conversation. The same if you declined.”

Kana frowned. “Sorry, but… why must I agree to all this just to learn some tricks?”

Light laughed, loud and hearty. Dufer swayed his head while smiling.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard the Bane Dagger Arts called ‘tricks.’ But… you’re not technically wrong.”

He sat straighter. “Dagger Arts, Sword Arts, Spear Arts, Spell Orb—none of them were created by humans. They originated in dungeons, born from Item Drop.”

Kana blinked. “You mean they’re… items?”

“Yes,” Light said. “Once you accept the [Oath Bind], and the item recognizes you, it will guide your training. It’ll reshape your body, mind, even spirit—prepare you for what it takes. Professor Dufer will guide you directly, but the item itself is the source.”

“Better to show her,” Professor Dufer said beside her.

He extended his hand, palm up. After a moment, a small, glowing dagger appeared—its blade a deep purple, its size almost comically short.

“This,” Dufer said, “is the Bane Art Dagger. Everything about the Bane Dagger Arts is contained within it. It’s a dungeon item drop, found by my great-great-grandfather.”

Kana leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “I read about him. One of the war heroes. He killed many high-ranking officials' enemies, didn’t he? Was it… because of this?”

Dufer blinked in surprise. “You know that story? Yes. Because of this dagger’s knowledge, our family was elevated into nobility.”

Kana stared at the little weapon. It glowed softly, like it was breathing.

“Interesting,” she murmured. “So… what should I do next?”

It wasn’t desperation that pushed her—at least, not entirely. It was a curiosity. She’d grown up hearing stories of the Ageless, of the Heroes whose names echoed throughout the history. But the tales were too grand, and seemed too impossible. Were their legendary feats the product of talent… or something else? Dungeon items, if the rumors were true, it could elevate someone beyond what training and leveling alone could achieve. And if that power could help—not just her, but the survival of the people she cared about—then she’d take the risk. Especially if that shadow man returned. Still, it all came down to the terms. Strength was worth the price—but only if the cost was something she could live with.

Principal Light gave her the procedure for accepting the [Oath Bind], while Professor Dufer explained the specific conditions she’d have to meet more on demand really, not a condition..

…

“Now, tell me the conditions. Your vow,” Principal Light said.

Kana and the principal stood facing each other in the center of the office.

Kana took a deep breath. “First, I agree that if I’m not able to fully learn the Bane Dagger Arts within two years, I will return the Bane Dagger Art—to Professor Dufer Bane.”

Light gave a slight nod. Kana continued.

“Second, If I fully learn. Once Professor Dufer’s daughter has a child, I vow to teach that child the Bane Dagger Arts, as long as they are capable of learning it. If they are not, then I will pass it on to another with Bane bloodline. If no one from the Bane house is capable in the next generation, I may teach it to someone else—but that person must, in turn, pass the Dagger Art back to a Bane descendant. The cycle must continue until the Bane Dagger Arts return to the Bane bloodline.”

“Third, failure to fulfill either of the first or second conditions will be considered a failure of the contract. If that happens… I will forget everything—about the Bane Dagger Arts and this entire conversation, the same penalty must be applied to my successor..”

There was silence for a heartbeat.

[Oath Bind]

A golden light surged from above, resembling a chain for a few seconds, enveloping Kana in a warm, radiant glow. For a moment, it felt like the world had paused—her thoughts muffled, her breath shallow. Then the light vanished.

But something remained. Something resided inside her mind.

Principal Light gave a satisfied nod toward Professor Dufer, who stepped forward. He extended his palm, and once again the small purple dagger appeared, glowing with faint violet light.

He handed it to her, ”Choose the [Yes] from the Text of God that will appear.”

A message flashed before her eyes:

[Learn Bolt’s Dagger Style?]

[Yes]

[No]

Kana’s eyes widened in surprise. The color of the skill was different from the usual, a bright orange display and was not really named Bane but Bolt?.. She disregarded the thought for now then chose [Yes] without hesitation.

She mentally focused on the new strange skill text in front of her.

[Bolt’s Dagger Style Beginner] (Passive)

A special dagger containing the essence of Dagger Arts from the Bolt Clan of unknown origin. Increases the speed of all dagger attacks. Critical damage and strike rate improve with mastery.

Progress: 1.12%

Pain struck suddenly—sharp and piercing, like a blade digging into her mind.

She clenched her jaw. Her vision blurred.

Then came the flood: movements, angles, techniques—dozens of unfamiliar slashes, pivots, and postures crammed into her head in an instant. Entire drills. Sequences of footwork. The art was no longer just something she saw from a distance—it was inside her now.

The Bane Dagger Arts was compatible with her.

She was confused for a second. Why couldn’t she find anything about these types of items in books?

At the end of the day she felt relief. At least, it wasn’t about their previous secret night activities.

…

Kana had already left by evening. They’d advised her to rest—the headache from accepting the Bane Dagger Arts would likely linger through the night and [Heal] skill wouldn’t be a help to remove it. Professor Dufer stayed behind in the principal’s office. He knew what was coming when Principal Light sent out a summons for an emergency meeting.

One by one, the other professors arrived.

Once the last seat was filled, Principal Light spoke, his voice low but sharp. “Looks like we’re all here. I called this meeting because there are signs of a recent battle—something on the level of a professor... or possibly stronger.”

The room fell quiet.

“It happened near the student dormitories,” he added. “We don’t yet know who was involved, but I want to ask directly—did any of you engage in combat there?”

A low murmur rippled through the room. Heads turned, brows furrowed. But no one stepped forward.

“No one? Then we have to consider the possibility that it was a student,” Principal Light continued. “However, there have been no reports of serious injuries. The healing ward only treated minor wounds from sanctioned sparring.”

“I did treat a student,” said one professor, “But it was a controlled match under supervision.”

“Same here,” added another.

“What about Pit? Should we bring him in to investigate?” someone suggested.

Wor-en, who had inspected the scene personally, shook his head. “It’s not worth it. The mana traces are already fading. All we found were light footprints and a significant amount of dried blood in the grass. Whoever fought there either healed themselves… or didn’t want to be found.”

“That concerns me even more,” Light said grimly. “I’m relieved no students are reported injured, but we can’t afford to be complacent.”

He straightened. “We’ll reinstate the previous security protocols—tight patrols, curfews strictly enforced. We don’t want another incident like last time. Wor-en continue your investigation.”

A few professors groaned quietly at the added workload, but none objected.

They all remembered what last time meant.

And none of them wanted to happen again.