I had just taken out a pen and a notebook when a man, introduced as Professor Orato, came into the room. He wore a heavy robe of silver, and his eyes, though clouded with age, held a spark of mischief as he spoke.

"Now, young wolves," he began, his voice echoing off the stone walls, "You stand on the hallowed grounds of Harbringer University, where modern academics meets ancient tradition.

I inhaled the faint musty scent of old books and worn carpet, my eyes darting between the ...