Chapter 208: Silverleaf Academy (LVI)

FWOOOOSH!!!

Aestrea shot forward like a bullet.

His body leaned low as he ran, fast, smooth, almost gliding over the ground. The wind roared behind him from the force of his speed.

The nearest priest barely even turned his head.

SPLAT!!

One of the floating violet swords shot out with a loud crack. It pierced straight through the man’s forehead.

The tip exploded out of the back of his skull, chunks of bone flying as blood sprayed like a burst pipe.

The priest dropped instantly, his mouth still open mid-chant.

Instantly, his eyes locked on the next targets…. three more priests in white robes, already raising their staffs, mouths moving in rushed prayers.

CLANG!!

SLASH!!

SWOOSH!!

The violet blades around Aestrea spun and sliced through the air like saws.

One chopped off an arm at the shoulder.

Another curved upward and slit a throat. A third rammed through the stomach of the last priest, blood gushing out as he collapsed, still gripping his staff.

Red sprayed across the cobblestones.

Screams filled the street.

“MONSTER—!!” one of them cried.

But before he could run—

SHHK!!

Aestrea stepped forward. His arm snapped up. One of the violet blades shot into his hand, and he drove it straight into the man’s chest.

The priest gasped, and his body shook.

“Not yet.”

He twisted the blade.

CRACK!

The priest’s spine snapped with a sickening sound, and his body folded unnaturally backward before slamming into the wall behind him.

Then came the chimeras.

Dozens of them, charging from the alleys, twisted creatures made of flesh, metal, and bone. They had long, sharp limbs like spears and glowing red eyes.

Their roars echoed through the burning streets, claws scraping the stone as they lunged.

Aestrea didn’t flinch.

His eyes narrowed. His fingers twitched.

FWIP!

FWIP!

FWIP—!!

Violet swords burst from the air around him, shooting out like arrows. Each one found its mark, piercing skulls, stabbing through open jaws, ripping straight through necks.

One after another, the chimeras dropped.

Their blood splattered across the walls and pavement. Severed limbs thudded to the ground. Bodies twitched before going still.

Aestrea continued walking forward.

All around him, flames rose from shattered homes. Smoke curled into the sky. Screams rang out in the distance, men, women, and children crying for help.

But wherever Aestrea moved, everything became quiet.

Corpses littered the path behind him, and blood pooled around his feet.

His footsteps were soft, but every step felt like death.

Behind broken walls and overturned carts, the people of Silverleaf watched with wide, tear-filled eyes. Some clutched their children. Others held their mouths shut, afraid to breathe.

But when they saw his face…

“…Aestrea…?”

“…The boy from the library…”

“…Didn’t he help me fix my roof last spring?”

“…He carried groceries for old lady Maris…”

He wasn’t wearing armor. He didn’t shout orders. His clothes were stained with blood, his expression blank, but they remembered him.

He was kind.

He always smiled.

But now, they saw him standing in the middle of the blood-soaked street, with swords floating behind his back like wings made of death.

He didn’t look like a hero anymore.

He looked like something else.

Something terrifying.

But strangely… they felt safe.

Because the monsters weren’t hurting them. The priests weren’t burning their homes anymore. The chimeras were dying.

And Aestrea… he was the one doing it.

He turned his head.

A small voice called out loudly.

It was a child who was hiding behind a collapsed wagon and was clearly crying.

Aestrea’s eyes softened slightly.

He walked over, kneeling beside the child, his blood-soaked hand reaching out slowly.

Violet light glowed around his palm, gentle and warm. It wrapped around the child like a bubble.

It shimmered faintly, then began pushing the child slowly toward the barrier Iris had created at the edge of the city, a glowing wall of holy energy where the other survivors had gathered.

Aestrea didn’t say anything.

But the child looked up at him.

“…Thank you,” the girl whispered.

He gave a tiny nod.

Then stood up again.

The moment he turned back toward the enemy lines, his aura flared again.

FWOOOOOM!!!

But along the way, he noticed a familiar shop.

[Iron Forge]

“Ah…”

The moment he stepped through the ruined entrance of the Iron Forge, Aestrea felt something in his chest tighten.

The flames had already died down, leaving behind only smoke, ash, and the bitter scent of blood and burnt metal.

The once-proud forge, which had echoed with hammer strikes and laughter, now stood silent, its walls cracked, its floor littered with debris and scorched iron.

The familiar warmth was gone.

It had been replaced by the heavy stench of death.

And then he saw him.

Against the blackened wall near the back of the shop, the Dwarf sat slumped, his body propped up awkwardly, as if he had tried to keep himself upright even in his final moments. His heavy chest armor had been torn open, revealing deep stab wounds.

Blood soaked his thick beard and dripped from his fingers, staining the floor beneath him.

Beside him, the corpses of five priests lay sprawled in a twisted pile, their limbs bent at odd angles.

Their faces were frozen in horror, their robes scorched, torn open by weapons and pure force.

Even while dying… he fought.

Even while bleeding from every inch of his body… he protected his forge.

Aestrea moved forward slowly, as if each step weighed thousands of kilos.

His hand trembled slightly, and his breath caught in his throat as he knelt beside the Dwarf, unable to speak right away.

The sight in front of him hurt more than any wound he’d received that day.

The Dwarf’s chest rose faintly, barely enough to notice, but his cloudy eyes managed to focus on Aestrea’s face.

“Boy…” he rasped, his voice dry and weak, but still holding that same stubbornness.

“Y-you’re… quite late…”

Aestrea didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

He pressed a hand against the Dwarf’s chest and tried to pour whatever healing magic he could muster into him.

A thin layer of ice spread across the wounds, sealing the bleeding. But deep down, he already knew… it wouldn’t be enough.

It was far too late.

“Don’t…” the Dwarf coughed, blood trickling from the side of his lips, “Don’t feel bad, kid… t-this… isn’t your fault…”

But those words made Aestrea clench his jaw so tightly that it felt like his teeth would crack.

His other hand dug into the floor, his fingers curling against the stone as guilt began to burn inside his chest like fire.

The Dwarf, struggling to move, slowly shifted his arm and dragged over a bundle wrapped in dark cloth.

He pushed it forward with great effort, and it landed gently in Aestrea’s lap.

“T-this is your gun…” he muttered, almost in a whisper.

“It’s m-my most… precious work…”

Aestrea’s hands moved automatically, gently unwrapping the cloth.

What lay inside took his breath away.

The weapon was beautiful.

Sleek, dark steel plating with frost-core crystal running down its barrel, glowing with a quiet, yet stunning cold pulse.

The design was clean, perfectly balanced, and at the base of the grip, a glowing rune softly shimmered in response to his presence.

It had been bound to him.

The Dwarf saw the recognition in Aestrea’s eyes and smiled weakly.

“I’m… glad… it fell in your hands…”

His body relaxed all at once.

And the smile never left his lips.

Aestrea sat there for a long moment, staring at the man who had built more than a weapon for him.

He had given him respect, space, and trust.

And now… he was gone.

A single tear slid down Aestrea’s face.

It hit the floor with a quiet drop.

He didn’t say a word.

No curses.

No screams.

Just silence.

A silence full of grief.

A silence full of rage.

Slowly, he placed his palm against the Dwarf’s chest once more.

Freeezeee…

A soft glow filled the room as a thin layer of frost gently coated the man’s body, turning it into a cold, clear sculpture of ice.

A quiet monument to the man who stood his ground till the very end.

Without looking back, Aestrea stood, the gun now strapped to his back, the weight of it far less than the weight in his heart.

He walked out of the forge.

And the moment his foot touched the street again, his eyes darkened entirely.

His aura started to stir once more.

He slowly closed his eyes and started extending his aura, counting how many priests and chimeras were there.

And fortunately for him, the numbers were quickly diminishing… but it wasn’t enough.

“The Holy Nation…”

His eyes glowed intensely.

“You’ll be my next target.”

Fwip.

He disappeared into nothingness.

And then reappeared just at the place where most of the priests and chimeras were gathered, the city square.

The priests had set up a strong magic barrier to trap a group of civilians. Tears and fear filled their faces, and chimeras circled them, claws ready.

Aestrea raised his gun to the barrier.

PAHT!

The violet bullet ripped through the magic barrier.

CRASH!!

It shattered like thin glass, glowing shards flying everywhere. The priests inside barely had time to react.

Their mouths fell open, taking a few steps, but others turned too late.

Aestrea stepped through the broken light.

CLINK…

CLINK….

His boots hit the cobblestones, slow and steady.

The chimeras hissed, their sharp limbs clicking as they turned to face him, metal claws twitching, red eyes glowing.

Aestrea simply raised his gun again.

BANG!

One shot.

The closest chimera’s skull exploded. Its head snapped back, then its body crashed to the ground in a pile of twitching limbs.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Three more dropped, each bullet clean and fast. Blood sprayed. Limbs flew. Screams filled the air again.

“GET HIM—!!” one of the priests yelled, his voice cracking.

But Aestrea was already moving.

FWIP!

He disappeared again, then reappeared behind the priest who shouted.

CRACK!!

His fist slammed straight into the man’s back. Bones snapped. The priest’s body bent forward like a ragdoll, and he vomited blood.

Then—

SHHK!!

A violet blade formed in Aestrea’s hand and stabbed through the man’s spine. His eyes rolled back. His staff clattered to the floor.

Aestrea yanked the blade out and spun.

SLASH!

The blade cut across another priest’s neck—clean, fast, final. Blood gushed out in a wide arc. The man collapsed, gurgling.

Chimeras rushed him from all sides.

ROOOAAARR!!

Six of them lunged at once, leaping through fire and smoke. Their limbs stabbed forward, aiming to pierce his chest and legs.

But Aestrea’s body twisted to the side.

WHOOSH!!

He slid across the ground, his coat flaring. One chimera’s claw scraped his shoulder, barely leaving a cut.

He didn’t stop moving.

BOOM!!

Aestrea jumped forward and smashed his elbow into a chimera’s jaw. The bone cracked, and the creature flew backward, hitting the wall hard enough to crumble stone.

He ducked low—another chimera swung high, missing his head by inches.

Aestrea turned and slammed his palm against its chest.

『 Ice Series: Frost Crash! (✦ 6th-level Spell ✦) 』

BOOOM!!

A violent burst of ice exploded from his hand. The chimera froze mid-air, its body stiffening in place.

A second later, it shattered into frozen chunks.

Two more came from behind.

FWOOOSH!!

Aestrea spun around and shot twice.

BANG!

BANG!

Both heads burst. Blood and bone flew everywhere.

The last chimera tried to stab down with a spear-like arm. Aestrea stepped forward, raised his hand—

『 Ice Series: Frost Chains! (✦ 5th-level Spell ✦) 』

CRACK!!

Icy chains burst from the ground and wrapped around the creature’s limbs, snapping tight. It screamed, trying to break free.

Aestrea raised his gun and pressed it against the chimera’s forehead.

“Quiet.”

BANG!!

The shot tore through its skull, and its body slumped forward, bound and dead.

Silence returned to the square.

The civilians behind the broken barrier were frozen in place, staring. Some still held their arms up in fear. Others were hugging each other, too scared to move.

Aestrea didn’t speak.

He turned toward them.

The gun lowered.

Then he pointed past them, toward the path that led to the holy barrier where Iris was.

“Go.”

His voice was soft.

The people hesitated.

Then a mother grabbed her son’s hand and ran. Others followed, limping, crying, helping each other.

Aestrea watched them leave, but his eyes were already scanning the rest of the square.

There were still more.

Further ahead, a large group of priests was gathering. Their robes shimmered with golden patterns.

One of them stepped forward.

An old man, tall, with sunken eyes and a golden staff topped with a glowing crystal. He was one of the cardinals of the church.

“You… filth,” he spat.

“You dare strike against the Holy Nation?!”

Aestrea didn’t answer.

The priest slammed the bottom of his staff into the ground.

BOOM!!

A dome of golden light burst outward.

It scorched the ground, burning the corpses nearby to ash.

The air became heavy, and light twisted around the staff like a sunbeam.

Aestrea raised his head slowly.

“You’re next.”

He raised the gun again.

The old man’s eyes widened.

“Don’t let him fire!!”

Four priests jumped forward, shields raised, light spells forming between their fingers.

Aestrea stepped sideways and disappeared.

FWIP!

He reappeared behind them, in mid-air, above the group.

He pointed the gun down.

“Pierce.”

KA-THOOM!!!

A shot of condensed violet energy roared downward like a thunderbolt. It punched straight through the shields, through the armor, through their chests.

SPLURT!!

Blood exploded in every direction.

All four dropped dead before they could even scream.

The old man raised his staff—

『 Holy Series: Judgment of Light!!! (✯ 7th-level Spell ✯) 』

A massive beam of golden energy shot up from his staff, then slammed down like a hammer of God.

BOOOOOOM!!!

The entire square shook as flames and smoke filled the air.

The ground cracked.

But as the smoke cleared—

A dome of frost stood at the center.

Unbroken.

Aestrea stood inside, his coat fluttering, his face completely calm.

His violet eyes locked onto the old priest.

“…Too slow.”

He stepped forward.

And vanished.

FWIP!!

Then—

CRACK—!!

Aestrea’s boot slammed into the side of the priest’s head. The old man spun through the air and smashed against the side of the church wall.

CRUMBLE!!

Stone shattered behind him.

He hit the ground and coughed blood, limbs shaking.

“Y-you…”

But before he could finish—

SHHK!!

A blade pierced his throat.

The light faded from his eyes.

Aestrea yanked the blade free, and slowly, his eyes turned to his dear academy, the place where everything had begun.

Right at this moment…

The rest of the priests and chimeras were there.

Along with an unsettling and ominous aura that had been bothering him since he had noticed that the city was in ruins.

That aura was…

At least SSS-rank.

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