“Do it.”
As soon as Horn’s voice fell, the three white-robed figures standing behind him moved.
No chanting.
No arrays.
Three world-shattering waves of mana exploded instantly in the center of the plaza.
It was a pure discharge of elements.
“Ashes” Roderick sprayed black flames from his palms, instantly burning a massive hole through the crumbling spatial barrier.
“Frostwhisper” Alisha tapped her staff on the ground, and a wave of extreme frost spread across the floor, freezing the approaching members of the Disciplinary Committee into ice sculptures.
“Thunder Punishment” Bal transformed into a streak of blinding lightning, lunging straight for Leovet in midair.
The roar was deafening.
Dust and smoke billowed everywhere.
The entire plaza instantly turned into a meat grinder of elemental turbulence.
“Run!”
Horn gave a strange cry.
With practiced ease, he delivered a sharp kick to the base of the cannon mount.
Click.
The massive Soul Vibration Cannon disassembled instantly.
He snatched up the core Mithril cylinder, clutching it like it was his own father, and dove into a sewer manhole.
He moved as fast as a startled rat.
“Don’t let him get away!”
Headmaster Griffin roared from the air, his mouth filled with bloody foam.
But he couldn't move.
The three White Tower Councilors were like rabid dogs, firmly pinning down all of the academy’s high-level combatants.
This was a suicide mission.
It was also meant to provide cover for that madman to escape with their only “result.”
“Follow him.”
Bell didn’t look at the instructors fighting for their lives.
He patted Tia’s shoulder.
The blue light in Tia’s eyes flickered, and two ghostly blue plumes of fire erupted from the thrusters on her back.
Whoosh.
The two of them turned into a streak of light and dove directly into the pitch-black sewer entrance.
...
The sewers were filled with a rotting stench.
Horn ran fast.
Though he was a failure in many ways, his talent for escaping was top-tier.
He wove through the maze-like pipes, occasionally dropping an alchemical bomb to collapse the passage behind him.
But it was useless.
Tia’s Mithril arms were indestructible.
The collapsed stones were sliced through like wet clay before her.
“Senior Horn.”
Bell’s voice echoed through the pipes, carrying heavy reverberations.
“You can’t run.”
“Leave the item behind, and I’ll leave you an intact corpse.”
Horn’s heavy panting came from ahead.
Followed by the splashing sound of feet hitting sewage.
“Don’t push me!”
Horn shrieked, his voice filled with terror.
“If you keep chasing me, I’ll detonate it! We’ll all die together!”
Bell sneered.
His footsteps didn't slow.
Until a sliver of light appeared ahead.
It was the entrance to an abandoned loft.
It was the base of the academy’s oldest clock tower, connected to the underground drainage system.
Horn scrambled up with his hands and feet.
Bell and Tia followed closely behind.
The loft was thick with dust.
Sunlight spilled through broken windows, illuminating countless dancing dust motes.
Horn cowered in a corner.
He held the black cylinder tightly in his arms.
One lens of his glasses was shattered, his face was covered in mud, and his entire body shook like a sieve.
“Don’t come any closer...”
Horn had nowhere left to retreat.
The wall was behind him.
Before him was that silver killing machine and a man whose eyes were colder than the machine itself.
“Horn.”
Bell stopped.
He straightened his cuffs, his tone calm.
“You’re a smart man.”
“A place like the White Tower Society isn’t for you.”
“Give it to me.”
Bell reached out his hand.
“I can pretend none of this ever happened.”
Horn swallowed hard.
He looked at Bell’s hand.
Then he looked at the cylinder in his arms.
His eyes flickered.
He seemed to be hesitating.
“How touching.”
A playful voice rang out abruptly in the loft.
It sounded like fingernails scratching a chalkboard.
Piercing.
Cold.
Bell’s pupils contracted sharply.
He was all too familiar with this voice.
It was the nightmare of his two lifetimes.
Crack.
Space shattered like a mirror.
A pitch-black rift tore open in the center of the loft.
A foot wearing a white high-heeled shoe stepped out from the rift.
Next.
A blood-stained white dress.
And a face so exquisite it was suffocating, yet so twisted it was terrifying.
Cecilia Lucas.
She was still holding a severed arm in her hand.
It was the arm of “Thunder Punishment” Bal.
Faint arcs of electricity still pulsed upon it.
“Brother.”
Cecilia casually tossed the severed arm onto the floor.
Like she was throwing away trash.
She tilted her head, looking at Bell with a beaming smile.
“Is hide-and-seek fun?”
“Those three useless things were too fragile.”
“It only took a few minutes for Leovet to tear them apart.”
“But it doesn't matter.”
Cecilia licked the blood from the corner of her mouth.
Her gaze bypassed Bell and landed on Horn in the corner.
“Did you get it?”
Horn nodded frantically.
Clutching the cylinder, he scrambled over to Cecilia’s feet.
Like a dog wagging its tail for mercy.
“I... I got it!”
“Young Miss! I got it!”
“This is the complete data! If we take it back, we can mass-produce it!”
Cecilia looked down at him.
There was no praise in her eyes.
Only disgust.
“Well done.”
She raised her foot and stepped on Horn’s shoulder.
“Since you have it.”
“Then you’re no longer useful.”
Cecilia’s fingers twitched.
Several invisible wind blades condensed in the air, aimed at Horn’s neck.
“Wait!”
Bell suddenly spoke.
The Mithril armor on Tia’s body expanded instantly, countless blades popping out as she entered a state of maximum alert.
Two against two.
No.
Two against one.
A failure like Horn didn't count as combat power.
“Brother wants to save him?”
Cecilia’s smile grew even wider.
She withdrew her foot and turned to face Bell.
She left her back completely exposed to Horn.
“Brother is truly too kind.”
“To even want to save a traitorous dog like this.”
Cecilia walked toward Bell step by step.
The aura around her climbed steadily.
That terrifying mana fluctuation made the floorboards of the loft groan under the pressure.
“Since Brother loves picking up trash so much.”
“I’ll just break you too.”
“Together with this tin can.”
“I’ll piece you into a new pile of trash.”
Cecilia raised her hand.
In her palm, a black gravity ball was compressing violently.
It was a terrifying force capable of crushing the entire clock tower into a pancake.
Bell didn’t move.
Tia didn’t move either.
They just stared fixedly at Cecilia.
Or rather.
They were staring behind Cecilia.
At Horn, who was huddled in the corner.
The Horn who had been shaking like a sieve.
Suddenly, he stopped shaking.
He slowly stood up from the ground.
The fear on his face had vanished.
In its place.
Was a form of fanaticism.
A pilgrimage-like, extreme fanaticism.
He hoisted the cylinder onto his shoulder.
Like he was carrying a rocket launcher.
His finger.
Rested on the red launch button.
“Young Miss.”
Horn’s voice no longer trembled.
Instead, it carried a strange sense of calm.
“You just said.”
“That I’m a dog?”
Cecilia froze for a moment.
She hadn’t expected this ant to dare speak at this moment.
She was just about to turn around.
Horn had already turned the dial on the cylinder.
Those weren't ordinary markings.
That was the data Bell had given him.
Unique soul coordinates from another world.
“Frequency calibrated.”
“Target: otherworldly soul.”
“Power: maximum.”
Horn grinned.
Revealing yellowed teeth.
That smile.
Was even crazier than Cecilia’s.
“I am a dog.”
“But I am not your dog.”
“I am...”
“The dog of Truth!”
Boom!
There was no sound.
Only a visible ripple erupted from the cylinder.
The distance was too close.
Less than three meters.
Cecilia didn’t even have time to deploy a shield.
That ripple.
Slammed.
Hard.
Directly into her back.
Time seemed to stand still at this moment.
The gravity ball in Cecilia’s hand dissipated.
Her entire body froze in place.
Her pupils dilated instantly.
Losing all focus.
That feeling.
Was as if her soul was being yanked out of her body by a giant invisible hand.
And then in midair.
It was smashed ruthlessly.
“Aaaaaaaah—!!!”
A scream of extreme agony erupted from Cecilia’s throat.
It wasn't physical pain.
It was the tearing of her soul.
She clutched her head.
Staggering back two steps.
Then.
With a thud.
She knelt on the ground.
Bleeding from every orifice.
“This...”
Cecilia looked up.
Her originally exquisite face was now covered in bruised, purple veins.
Hideous as a ghost.
She stared at Horn.
Her eyes filled with disbelief.
“How... is this possible...”
“This shot...”
Horn tossed away the glowing red cylinder.
He pushed up the broken glasses on the bridge of his nose.
He looked at Cecilia kneeling on the ground.
Like he was looking at a lamb waiting for slaughter.
“This shot.”
“Is called Physics.”
...
Time went back to a month ago.
In that musty basement of the Soul Research Club.
When Bell drew that “diode” schematic on the blackboard.
Horn’s worldview collapsed.
He had studied soul research for his entire life.
In the face of that simple diagram.
He felt like a primitive human seeing a nuclear reactor.
“This is Truth.”
Horn knelt on the ground, looking at the blueprint with tears streaming down his face.
“This is the real Truth!”
Bell tossed away the chalk in his hand.
He brushed the dust off his hands.
He looked down at him from above.
“Want to learn?”
Horn nodded frantically.
His head slammed against the floor with a series of loud thuds.
“Yes! I want to learn! I’ll do anything!”
Bell smiled.
He leaned down.
He whispered into Horn’s ear.
“Tell me everything about you.”
...
Reality.
The loft was deathly silent.
Only the sound of Cecilia’s heavy, ragged breathing remained.
She tried to condense mana.
But the violent vibration of her soul made it impossible for her to perform even the most basic elemental arrangement.
Her head felt like tens of thousands of bees were flying inside.
The world was spinning.
“Brother...”
Cecilia looked up.
Her blood-red eyes stared at Bell.
That look.
Was no longer playful.
It was pure, bone-deep malice.
“You set me up...”
Bell walked up to her.
Looking down from above.
Just as he had looked at Horn that day.
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.
He slowly wiped away a bit of dust from Tia’s arm.
His movements were so gentle it was unsettling.
“Cecilia.”
Bell tossed the handkerchief onto Cecilia’s face.
It covered her distorted expression.
His voice was calm.
Without a single ripple.
“I told you.”
“You would pay the price.”
He raised his foot.
A black leather boot.
He stepped on the back of Cecilia’s hand.
Grinding down with force.
Until the sound of shattering bones rang out.
Rate on N.U.
