Gravity Mage with Level-Up System

Yellow River Academy

The colossal aircraft, a behemoth of gleaming metal and arcane energy, penetrated the academy's depths with an eerie silence.

It seemed to phase through a shimmering, invisible barrier, as if entering a realm beyond the physical. The craft was a marvel of engineering, its sleek form and pulsating lights a stark contrast to the academy's ancient, stone architecture.

Emerging from the ethereal passage, the aircraft hovered majestically above a circular landing platform, a perfectly manicured expanse of dark stone. With a gentle descent, it kissed the ground, its engines humming a low, resonant note.

The massive hatch hissed open, revealing a yawning black maw. From its depths, emerged a squad of elite wizards, their auras crackling with raw power. They moved with the precision of well-oiled machines, their eyes cold and calculating.

At their center stood a figure of imposing stature, a level-8 wizard, his robes embroidered with intricate symbols of authority. This was the man tasked with overseeing the incarceration of the infamous Rodney, head of the Steel Family.

The prison was a subterranean labyrinth, a place of shadows and despair. Its walls were thick with enchanted stone, designed to imprison even the most powerful of wizards. The captured wizards, a motley crew of varying strengths, were systematically sorted and confined to cells corresponding to their magical prowess.

Rodney, the former patriarch of the Steel Family, found himself alone in a cell unlike any other. It was a fortress within a fortress, its walls pulsating with a strange, inhibitory energy.

Despite the heavy, enchanted handcuffs binding his wrists, his eyes held a flicker of defiance. He knew interrogation was inevitable, a confrontation he had been preparing for.

The other members of the Steel Family were a picture of abject terror. Their once proud bearing was shattered, replaced by a cowering demeanor. The fate that awaited them was uncertain, but the specter of unimaginable torture loomed large in their minds.

A sliver of hope remained. The women, children, and elderly had been spared, a fact that offered a measure of solace. Yet, the shadow of annihilation still hung over the family. To survive, they would have to make a Faustian bargain, pledging eternal allegiance to the Yellow River Academy.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

A grim realization dawned on some of the elder members. They saw through the facade of mercy, recognizing the Academy's true intentions. And they suspected that Rodney, with his uncanny foresight, had anticipated this outcome, perhaps even orchestrated it as a desperate gambit.

The stage was set for a complex and perilous game, with the fate of the Steel Family hanging in the balance.

The old man dean, a figure shrouded in an aura of ancient wisdom and immense power, arrived at the prison block. His footsteps echoed with an otherworldly cadence in the subterranean corridors.

The level-8 wizard, a towering figure of brute force, bowed respectfully as the dean approached. With a curt nod, the dean dismissed the wizard, his eyes already fixed on the fortified cell where Rodney was confined.

The cell, a monolithic structure of obsidian and arcane steel, was a testament to the Academy's formidable might. Yet, to the dean, it was as easily breached as a paper wall.

With a mere gesture, the intricate locking mechanisms hummed to life and retracted, revealing the cell's interior. The other Steel Family members, huddled together in their cells, watched in horrified fascination as the dean, seemingly untouched by the cell's protective enchantments, stepped inside.

Rodney, his spirit already broken by the weight of his family's fate, sat hunched in a corner. The heavy handcuffs dug into his wrists, a constant reminder of his captivity. His eyes, once filled with the fire of ambition, were now dull and lifeless. Yet, beneath the facade of defeat, a flicker of defiance remained.

The dean, a man of sharp intellect and piercing gaze, stood before Rodney. His eyes, like twin pools of ancient knowledge, seemed to delve deep into Rodney's soul. "So, you are Rodney, the Steel Family Head," he intoned, his voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of authority.

Rodney, understanding the futility of resistance, lowered his head. "Yes, My name is Rodney Steel. I'm the Steel Family Head," he replied, his voice barely a whisper.

The words were a surrender, an acknowledgment of defeat. But in that moment of submission, a silent vow was made - to protect his family at any cost, even if it meant bending the knee to this formidable adversary.

The dean's lips curved into a thin, almost imperceptible smile. Rodney's cooperation was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps this interrogation would be less arduous than anticipated.

"I expect your full cooperation," the dean stated, his voice carrying an undercurrent of steel. Rodney, his head bowed in resignation, merely nodded.

With that, the interrogation began. The air in the cell was thick with tension as the dean delved into the heart of darkness that was the Steel Family.

For two interminable hours, the old man probed, questioned, and challenged. He inquired not only about the recent incident involving Vincent but also about the family's shadowy past.

As the interrogation progressed, a grim picture emerged. The Steel Family, it seemed, was a viper's nest of intrigue and treachery, a pawn of the Royal Force Hall Academy. They had been a thorn in the side of the Yellow River Academy for decades, their actions shrouded in secrecy.

To the dean's surprise, Rodney was remarkably forthcoming. His spirit, it seemed, had been broken by the weight of his family's crimes and the inevitable consequences.

The realization that the Steel Family was cornered, with no escape from the long arm of justice, had compelled him to confess everything.

The dean left the prison, his mind racing. He had uncovered a wealth of information, not only about the Steel Family but also about several unsolved cases that had plagued the academy for years. Rodney's confession was a breakthrough, a key that unlocked a hidden chamber of secrets.

A flicker of compassion crossed the dean's face as he considered Rodney's plea for leniency. However, he knew that such matters were beyond his authority. The fate of the Steel Family would be decided by the powerful Magic Lords.

Returning to his tower, the dean began to organize the staggering amount of information he had gathered. A mountain of paperwork awaited him, but his mind was elsewhere. Images of Vincent flashed before his eyes.

He had already dispatched a shadow squad to keep a watchful eye on the young wizard, ensuring his safety until a more permanent solution could be found.

Meanwhile, in the Sub-Taboo Hall

A hushed silence permeated the chamber, broken only by the soft rustle of parchment and the occasional sharp intake of breath. The crippled old man, his skeletal frame hunched over a worn wooden desk, watched the unfolding drama with a keen, predatory gaze.

Beside him, a handful of other Magic Lords, their faces etched with varying degrees of shock and disgust, followed the interrogation with rapt attention.

The revelations pouring forth from Rodney's lips were nothing short of cataclysmic. It was not as if the Yellow River Academy was entirely ignorant of the Royal Force Hall Academy's machinations.

There had always been a cold war of sorts between the two institutions, a silent battle for supremacy in the wizarding world. But the extent of the Steel Family's involvement was a revelation, a chilling exposé of a conspiracy that ran deeper and darker than anyone could have imagined.

The meticulous planning, the cold efficiency with which the Steel Family had eliminated countless young talents, sent a shudder down the spines of the assembled Magic Lords.

The fact that these murders had been carried out by students of their own academy, under the guise of external missions, was a bitter pill to swallow. With no concrete evidence, most of these deaths had been dismissed as unfortunate accidents, a tragic but unavoidable consequence of the wizarding world.

The old man's mind raced. He thought of Vincent Carey, the young wizard who had narrowly escaped death at the hands of a level-7 Transformation Wizard. The boy had displayed an uncanny resilience and courage, far beyond his years.

It was as if he had been touched by a force beyond mortal comprehension. The old man, who prided himself on his ability to read people, found himself utterly perplexed by the enigmatic young wizard. Vincent Carey was a riddle wrapped in a mystery, a diamond in the rough that defied categorization.

For the first time in decades, the old man felt a stirring of excitement. This was a game changer, a chance to not only dismantle the Steel Family but to expose the true face of the Royal Force Hall Academy. The stakes had never been higher.

The crippled old man, a seasoned player in the intricate game of wizarding politics, understood the gravity of the situation.

Accusing the Royal Force Hall Academy, a venerable institution with deep roots and powerful allies, was akin to declaring war. They would undoubtedly deny the accusations, painting the Yellow River Academy as a paranoid accuser.

A cold, calculating gleam appeared in the old man's eyes. He knew he couldn't do this alone. He needed the support of his fellow Magic Lords, a united front against the common enemy. To sway them, he would need irrefutable evidence, a smoking gun that would silence their doubts and galvanize their support.