Chapter 358: The Beginning Of The End [XX]

“How are the preparations going?” Ardeon asked as he sat down on a throne made of gold, his eyes glued to a screen that was showing the tag game.

“Almost everything is already placed besides the relics themselves, as that part will actually be placed by the student council president herself,” Seris’ voice came in a hushed tone.

“Thalon already checked the carvings twice,” Seris continued, still speaking in that calm, quiet tone she always used during operations.

“All the runes are stable. The barrier will trigger the moment the test begins.”

Ardeon leaned his cheek against his fist, eyes still fixed on the floating screen. Students were running, shouting, and almost fighting in childish chaos.

“Good. Let them play…” he murmured.

At that moment, Ysera stepped closer, her heels clicking lightly against the marble floor. She looked almost gentle, but her eyes were sharp.

“The president will install the relics at the center field during the break between rounds. No one suspects anything. She probably thinks it’s just a ’tradition’ required for the midterm.”

Ardeon let out a dry breath that almost sounded like a laugh.

“People love tradition when they think it keeps them safe.”

Behind them, Thalon entered, wiping dust from his hands, sparks still dancing between his fingers.

“The underground shards have all synced. If someone walks near the forest edge, they can already feel small pressure waves. But since everyone is tired, they think it’s from the tag game stamina loss.” He grinned.

“Idiots always explain the truth as something simple.”

Gareth nodded once.

“There were no leaks and no strange signals. No one has sniffed out the array.”

Eveleen stood beside the door, hugging her own arms like she was cold. Her purple eyes flickered.

“I-I can f-feel the divine core p-p-pulses already… When the test starts, it will be s-strong. Very s-strong.”

Ardeon’s gaze softened just slightly.

“Good. You only need to hold the locks for five minutes. After that, everything will spiral on its own.”

“Mhm…”

Seris pushed her glasses up.

“The moment the match ends, the instructors will gather the finalists in the main field. That is when the president will place the relic rods. We don’t need to interfere. She will do it herself.”

“And the activation?” Ysera asked curiously.

“It will trigger when thirty or more students enter the radius,” Thalon replied on Seris’s stead.

“The council will be watching from the walls. They won’t notice the spike until it’s too late.”

Ardeon finally leaned back into his golden throne, crossing one leg over the other. The faint blue light of the screen reflected in his cold eyes.

“Everything is falling into place.”

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Meanwhile, Aestrea and Elijah watched the chaos unfold from the side, both of them silent, both of them wearing the same tired expression.

More than ninety percent of the students were already tagged out, lying on the grass or sitting on the benches, each one grumbling about their rank while pretending they weren’t bitter about it.

And honestly… this “game” was a damn massacre.

Students betrayed each other without even blinking.

Especially the taggers… the moment they received that cursed mark, they didn’t complain, didn’t panic, they just smiled at someone… walked close… and passed it on at the very last second.

And somehow, against all odds, Kael and Tyrian were still alive.

“Bro… we might actually get top ten like this!” Kael whispered, eyes sparkling like a dumb puppy who thought he won a prize.

“I know! Neither of us got the mark yet!” Tyrian grinned back at him.

They fist-bumped each other with enough confidence to jinx an entire kingdom.

And then, as if summoned by their stupidity, a familiar dark-skinned woman with long black hair and golden eyes appeared behind them… smiling way too widely.

“…Selindra?” Kael blinked.

She looked exhausted… sweaty… but also disturbingly relieved.

“Huff… thank the gods… we found someone we’re friends with,” Kael said, already stepping toward her like an idiot who had never heard of danger in his life.

But Tyrian saw something he didn’t.

“Fuck…” Tyrian’s blood ran cold.

His eyes widened entirely as he grabbed Kael’s wrist so fast it almost snapped.

“Bro, BRO—JUST RUN! FUCKING RUN!!”

FWOOP!!

Tyrian took off, dragging Kael like a sack of potatoes.

Kael barely kept up, stumbling and yelling at him.

“WHY ARE WE RUNNING?!”

“SHE HAS A MARK ON HER PALM!!” Tyrian shouted, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Kael froze for half a second mid-run.

“SHIT!!! THEN SHE MIGHT USE HER AUTHORITY ON—”

Phewwwww~

A sweet, warm scent drifted through the air, slipping into their nostrils before either of them could hold their breath.

And instantly… their bodies heated up like someone poured fire under their skin.

“F-FUCK!” Kael choked.

“D-DAMMIT—HER BLESSING IS TOO STRONG—!” Tyrian groaned, dropping to his knees.

In a matter of seconds, both of them were on the ground, rolling, groaning, biting at their jacket sleeves like starving dogs trying to stop themselves from losing control.

“Mhm~, hmn~”

A soft humming drifted toward them.

Selindra slowly skipped toward their struggling bodies, her golden eyes sparkling with mischief. She crouched down behind Tyrian and tapped his back with one finger.

“Bye, bye~” she giggled mischievously, slowly walking away, while swaying her curvaceous hips.

Both of them froze slighly.

And then Tyrian slowly lifted his hand, staring at the glowing mark now burning on his palm.

A heavy silence fell.

Kael stared at him with wide, teary eyes.

Tyrian stared back.

“…Bro…” Kael whispered dramatically. “D-don’t worry. You can pass it to me. I’ll take the blow for us. I’m your brother in all things.”

Tyrian’s eyes shimmered with emotion… and pure panic.

How… HOW could he even think of passing the mark to Kael?

They were best friends! Brothers! Partners!

“N-no bro… I’ll take the blow. I won’t let your future be ruined,” Tyrian whispered, trying to sound noble but sweating like mad.

“No, me!”

“ME!”

“NO—YOU PASS IT ALREADY—!”

“OVER MY DEAD BODY—!”

Both of them, two large, grown young men, started yelling in each other’s faces, voices cracking, sweating, shaking, still half affected by Selindra’s blessing.

From afar, Elijah sighed softly.

“…Are they always like this?”

“They are idiots,” Aestrea nodded.

And as they looked at the screen, Tyrian and Kael kept shouting at each other like two dying goats, voices breaking, eyes watering, foreheads almost touching from pure stubbornness.

“PASS IT TO ME, YOU IDIOT!” Tyrian barked.

“NO, TO ME! I’M THE OLDER BROTHER IN SPIRIT!” Kael shot back, chest puffed like he was declaring war.

“You’re older by three damn minutes—”

“AGE IS AGE!”

“OH SHUT UP!”

They were red, sweaty, trembling from Selindra’s lingering blessing, and honestly, seconds away from rolling around in the dirt like toddlers.

“…Fine!” Kael suddenly yelled, grabbing Tyrian’s arm.

“FINE!” Tyrian yelled back, grabbing Kael’s.

“WE DO IT FAIR!”

“YES! FAIR!”

“…But how?” Kael blinked.

Tyrian sucked in a breath like he was about to reveal some ancient sacred method.

“…Roulette.”

Kael stared at him.

Then nodded with the same seriousness one gives at a funeral.

“Roulette,” he agreed.

So the two idiots stood there, gripping each other’s arms so tight their knuckles turned white.

They squeezed their eyes shut, breathing hard, waiting for the stupid glowing mark to “choose” one of them like destiny itself was about to pick a winner.

They trembled.

They whispered prayers.

They cursed Selindra.

They cursed life.

“COME ON, CHOOSE ME!” Kael shouted.

“NO, ME!” Tyrian answered, shaking him.

“SHUT UP, LET THE MARK SPEAK!”

Click!

A faint flash cut across their vision.

They both froze.

And slowly… very slowly… they opened their eyes.

Then they looked down.

Both their marks were gone.

They blinked.

Then they looked at each other.

“…Bro,” Kael whispered.

“…Bro,” Tyrian echoed.

A beat of silence.

And then…

“WAIT—ARE WE BOTH OUT?!”

“WHAT THE—THIS IS BULLSHIT!!”

“WE DIDN’T EVEN PASS IT!”

“THE MARK SKIPPED US?!”

“NO—THE MARK JUDGED US!”

They stared at each other, mouths hanging open in pure betrayal by the universe.

Kael covered his face with both hands.

“…Bro… maybe we should’ve used rock, paper, scissors…”

Tyrian nodded weakly, eyes dead inside.

“Yeah… at least then… only one of us would’ve lost…”

They sank to the ground together, defeated, broken, spiritually shattered, whispering into the dirt like two tragic heroes who died for absolutely nothing.

“…They really are fucking idiots,” Elijah muttered. Aestrea only nodded, too drained to argue.

With their fall, only three students remained.

The professor lifted a hand, and in an instant, the survivors were teletransported to a compact stone arena, its walls humming with containment wards and the metallic scent of magic thick in the air.

“You three are the last ones standing… so good luck!” the professor declared, his voice echoing as the activation mark flared across Selindra’s skin.

Swoooshh!

She didn’t hesitate as she tapped the nearest target and burst into a swirl of pink mist, reappearing at the far edge of the arena.

“Bitch!” the man she tagged barked before lunging at the other woman.

Surprisingly, it was none other than Carliat.

But the moment he reached out to touch her…

BANG!

A shockwave detonated from her palm, sending him flying across the arena like a rag doll.

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