My Magical System

Steeping inside, Eman immediately noticed the man seated behind a wide obsidian-black table.

A pair of cold amber eyes were the first to greet him. They were unblinking and sharp.

Eman couldn't help but think this man carried an aura that matched the beast in the final room.

If it were someone else and not him who came here today, they would for sure get cowered in fear the moment they met his gaze.

Before coming here, Eman had already gathered what information he could get about the Red Tyrant Clan and its leader. And from that alone, he learned a few things.

Olivius Argola.

He was the eldest son of Count Argola. Their state lay in the Northeast part of the empire, and according to the records, the Argola Family was one of the wealthiest noble families in the country. Their wealth came from their mining endeavours. They were also known as the empire's money-makers.

Olivius himself was the sole successor to that fortune. Yet despite his wealthy background, he built his clan without his family's backing, solely through his own ability. Thanks to his sharp judgement and unnerving calmness, he turned it into one of the academy's greatest clans within just three years. The fastest in the record.

Olivius was the type of person who rarely raised his voice, yet whose gaze alone was enough to make people buckle.

But not Eman.

This was no doubt a silent declaration of "whose the boss here" scenario, isn't it? Eman thought.

He believed Olivius already began appraising him.

'Well… this is a battle of its own. Not of strength but of composure and will.'

"…"

He did not react. He didn't need to. The nonchalant expression and the same level of calmness his face expressed was enough to convey his answer.

Olivius' eyes narrowed slightly. He had met many kinds of people. Most looked away the moment his gaze landed on them. Those types of people were in the category of weak-willed people.

However, there were also those he called… pretentious.

The kind he disliked the most. They who acted arrogant at first, only to cry later. He could only shake his head at such people.

'Hoh. So this is him. The one who caused a stir with the other clans recently. Let's see how he plans to convince me,' Olivius thought.

In his mind, Eman probably belonged to the latter category. Someone who would leave the room in tears.

Honestly, he wasn't even interested in minor matters, even if it involved the Red Tyrant members. The issue with his members and the Merciless Clan was just that, a small issue. Normally, he would let his officials manage it. But this time, something piqued his interest.

He heard about someone causing waves among the midget clans just recently. They called him the rising dark horse.

It wasn't rare for a new talent to emerge; every year had its underdog. But most burned out quickly.

"I brought him," the young woman guiding Eman said in a calm, professional tone.

Olivius lifted his gaze on her before settling once again on Eman.

His eyes remained cold and unwavering. An unreadable aura surrounding him. It wasn't hostile… but it certainly wasn't welcoming as well. His stare was sharp enough to make most people uncomfortable.

But again, not Eman.

"So," Olivius started, voice smooth and unhurried, "you must be the leader of Merciless Clan."

There was a subtle pause in his tone. Olivius secretly held a quiet disdain for small-time leaders who built clans around 'cool-sounding' names. To him, such people were usually arrogant, childish, or fools who believed intimidation could be bought with syllables.

Eman met his gaze without blinking. "Yes. My name is Eman. And you must be Olivius."

Olivius' eyes narrowed slightly when Eman's response was delivered in the same level as his question.

'Perhaps the idiot thought we're on the same level,' Olivius thought.

"I am. I appreciate you for heeding my condition."

"Alright. Then thank you for receiving me."

Olivius gestured to the chair across from him.

"Sit."

Eman took the seat without hesitation. The young woman stepped aside, standing near the door.

No tea was served.

They didn't see him as equal.

Understandable, given their clans' status.

Olivius leaned back slightly, fingers interlaced atop the obsidian table.

"So," he began, his voice still composed, "let us discuss the reason you're here."

He spoke as though he was addressing a minor inconvenience.

"The issue regarding your subordinates." His amber eyes sharpened. "They were accused of damaging our equipment. Equipment that, according to them, had no dents, scratches, or degradation aside from rust, until they passed through your clan's hands."

It was a statement, not a question. A purposeful offensive meant to pressure him.

Eman didn't blink. "Yes. I'm aware of the accusation."

Olivius lifted his brow. "And you still walk in here with a calm face? Most would be kneeling to apologize."

[He's pushing], the System murmured. [He wants to see how far you bend].

Eman didn't bend.

"I came to settle the matter in a way that benefits both sides."

Olivius' expression remained unreadable, but the air thickened ever so slightly. As though he were willing to listen, but only barely.

"Continue."

In a relaxed manner, Eman opened his mouth and started talking in a firm voice.

"Before bringing up the equipment back, my clan members performed a full surface assessment. All observations are recorded through our Rust Purification Log. You're aware of that system, I assume?"

Olivius gave a small nod. Rust cleaning was a registered academy service. Every clan that offered it had to record the state of the item before and after cleaning. For accountability.

"According to the log," Eman continued, "the equipment your clan submitted had no pre-existing degradation, dents, or scratches. Just rust-microfructures which could be fixed and cleaned."

"So you mean you had also recorded the post-work result?"

"Yes. But unfortunately, the record was lost."

"Hm. Then how can you prove your innocence?"

There was a brief pause. Not because Eman lacked an answer, but he chose to deliver it calmly.

"We can check the damaged equipment to see if they were the same equipment that my clanmen returned."

Olivius' gaze dropped a fraction. Not conceding but analyzing.