Chapter 132: A Fake Syndicate

Seeing Theo’s earnest expression, and then glancing at the Pontifex who was nearly numb from losing all her silver, Headmaster Lucius and Elder Tiberius fell into deep contemplation.

They were trying to make sense of the words the Sword Sovereign had just uttered.

Cult Founder? Your employee? Academy Grand Magister?! ℴ

How in the abyss could these three titles belong to the same person?! This was total nonsense!

"Hold on, let me sort this out..." Headmaster Lucius massaged his temples.

"Perhaps I should start from the beginning," Theo cleared his throat. "I saw the people of the southern border suffering. Coincidentally, I needed a colossal workforce. So, I teamed up with some senior Cult Exarchs... and somehow, I ended up becoming the Hierarch’s uncle-in-law."

"So you created a fake syndicate?! To run a multi-level marketing scam on the Cult of the Devourer?!" Elder Tiberius’s eyes bulged as he rolled up his sleeves. He was dumbfounded. An ’Abyssal Syndicate’? And he dragged Liana into being their saintess?

It sounded entirely ridiculous, yet knowing Theo, it was completely plausible.

"Tiberius, patience," Lucius stopped the eccentric Forge Master from strangling the boy. "Go on, Theo."

"Actually, there was no treasure in the tomb... just Pontifex Valerius. To escape the Archons, I used an Abyssal Shadow-Clone to steal a fake relic and lure them away."

"..."

Instructor Cassian and the Academy disciples fell into dead silence.

So that strand of hair they had wept over... was literally just a strand of hair?!

Cassian threw the hair onto the cobblestones in pure frustration.

Lucius and Tiberius felt their scalps tingle. The audacity of this boy was off the charts. His actions were downright Sylvia-level outrageous!

"Then I thought," Theo continued nonchalantly, "since the Pontifex is all alone, and we already have a strategic partnership with her Cult.. plus, she is practically born to do administrative overtime... why not recruit her into the Academy? A nice bonus, really."

"You little bastard, shut your mouth!" Headmaster Lucius lost his composure, raising his smoking pipe as if to smack Theo on the head.

Would their prestigious Academy just become a den of terrorists?!

At best, it would become a soulless corporation!

"Oh, speaking of the Academy..." the Pontifex suddenly looked up as memories flooded back. "I was the one who designed the Catacombs of the First Emperor beneath your campus. I even placed several adamantine gargoyles at the entrance to scare off tomb raiders. Why did I not sense their Aether signatures when I arrived?"

Wait, the Academy’s ancestral legacy was designed by the Cult’s founder?

And those gargoyles?

Theo turned to look at Sylvia.

"....?" Sylvia touched the bridge of her nose, whistled innocently, and gazed up at the sky.

The Headmaster’s expression was incredibly complicated.

A Grand Exarch of the Seventh Realm was a mythical asset.

Most regions did not have such old monsters. But her identity was far too sensitive.

"This is a grave matter that requires careful deliberation," Lucius sighed. He hurried back to the main peak to consult the supreme council.

Cassian and the exhausted disciples took their leave as well.

"Perfect, I am terrible at this game. You take over, Elder," Theo vacated his seat.

Elder Tiberius frowned. "This old Forge Master never partakes in such gambling gatherings. It is a waste of spirit."

"Ah, that is a shame. Abyssal Hammer, did we not agree to visit a rival forge today to do some smithing?" Theo muttered loudly.

Did this boy actually have an interest in blacksmithing? Tiberius remembered Theo’s *Diamond Crucible Form*.

The Forge Master subtly reversed course and sat down at the Tesserae table. "Occasional leisure is harmless. Sylvia, today you will learn that the true Tesserae King of the Academy is someone else!"

And so, the clattering of tiles resumed.

But the true Tesserae King of the Academy was not Sylvia, nor was it Tiberius...

After Theo left the table, Liana played even better!

Meanwhile, Theo was standing on the sidelines, happily offering high-interest ’Tesserae loans’ to the losers.

One winning all the money, the other lending it back with interest...

Could anyone deny this was a coordinated marital scam?!

For the sake of the other players’ sanity, the overconfident Theo was forced back into his seat.

"How come the tiles I draw are so terrible from this seat?" Theo grumbled, scratching his neck.

Liana glanced down.

"Hahaha, winning hand! Pay up!" Sylvia cackled.

Once again, Theo was the only one without a winning hand.

Frustrated, he reached for his neck again, but a cool touch suddenly soothed the itch.

Theo turned and realized...

Somehow, he and Liana were sitting much closer.

Any nearer, and she would practically be in his lap.

"Here?" Liana asked softly, her fingers resting on his pulse.

"Mmmm... another spot itches too."

"Where?"

"The other side," Theo replied, feeling slightly guilty for exploiting the situation.

To reach the other side, she had to stand up, step behind his chair, and lean over.

Liana banished the intrusive thoughts and focused on the tiles. "You misplayed several tiles."

"Eh?" Theo raised a brow, realizing his already terrible hand was now entirely ruined.

He clicked his tongue, unsure if his elevated heart rate was due to the game or... something else.

His luck only worsened. This round was doomed.

Theo sighed and leaned his head back... only to bump into something incredibly soft and warm.

His breath caught. He inhaled a subtle floral fragrance, and the icy touch against his neck lingered, sending a shiver down his spine.

Dazed, he turned his head slightly, his cheek brushing against the elegant curve of her abdomen.

"Still itchy?" Liana whispered.

"Not anymore," Theo took a deep breath, his sudden movement inadvertently scattering his tiles across the table.

Across the table, Tiberius and Sylvia frowned at the mess...

Then their eyes widened as they saw the tiles that had flipped over.

"Looks like we won," Liana spoke softly, though her flickering silver gaze was not on the tiles at all.

He said the itch was gone.

But had his restlessness somehow spread to her... settling deep in her chest, in a place she could not reach?