Chapter 365: The Beginning Of The End [XXVII]

Far from the academy, deep beneath an abandoned fortress, a chamber of black stone lay hidden.

Its walls had no torches, yet the entire room glowed faintly with swirling runes carved into the rock.

Several hooded figures stood around a circular table made of dark crystal.

Each cloak carried symbols from different factions. Then, a distorted projection flickered above the table. showing Ardeon’s last moments.

When the recording ended, the chamber fell into a sharp, tense quiet.

One of the hooded figures finally exhaled and murmured:

“…Ardeon failed.”

“Failed? He didn’t just fail, he practically got erased. Vaporized. Turned into soup.” Another figure scoffed quietly.

“That’s enough,” a deeper voice said.

The speaker’s hood was darker than the others, like it swallowed light itself.

“Ardeon might have been reckless, but he was still our most informed agent inside the academy.”

“And even with all the information we fed him,” another added, “he couldn’t defeat Lunara.”

A smaller figure leaned forward, tapping the crystal table. “Maybe we overestimated her. Or underestimated him.”

“No,” the leader replied.

“We underestimated the power of her authority.”

A ripple of silent agreement moved around the table.

“But now she has grown emotionally attached to someone,” the leader added.

Their voices fell silent again.

A taller hooded figure finally asked, “…Is that the boy? The one who intervened?”

“Aestrea,” someone answered.

“Ascended only a few months ago. Background unknown. He wasn’t in our data. No divine family, no registered faction, no lineage… nothing.”

One figure crossed his arms.

“Ardeon was supposed to probe Lunara, not provoke her. But instead, he triggered a full execution.”

“And Aestrea,” someone muttered, “jumped into the judgment without flinching.”

“Reckless,” a voice said.

“No.” The leader’s tone sharpened.

“Calculated.”

A different figure nodded slowly. “He offered his life as collateral. No normal student would survive the pressure of the Authority. Yet he did.”

“Which means,” the leader said, “his soul weight is abnormal.”

“Is he a possible reincarnation?” Someone asked curiously.

“That is what concerns me.”

A faint hum ran through the chamber as a large hooded figure shifted. His voice was gravelly, as if dragged across stone.

“Ardeon claimed Aestrea might be the Fallen God.”

“Ardeon claimed many things,” someone muttered. “He also claimed Lunara would be easy to break.”

“Still,” the gravel-voice continued, “Aestrea knew about the contract with the Vice Headmaster. Information no student, no outsider, should know.”

The leader turned slightly.

“Are you suggesting he is connected to our leak?”

“Yes.”

The smallest hooded figure shook their head. “But the timing doesn’t match. Our informant sent that intel only two weeks ago, and Aestrea ascended months ago.”

“Unless he acquired the knowledge another way,” someone whispered.

“…That would prove the reincarnation theory,” the smallest figure whispered, voice trembling slightly. “If he retained knowledge from a previous life, then—”

“Then he is unpredictable,” the gravel-voice finished.

“And unbound by the rules of ascension,” another added quietly.

“But that would also mean Seraph failed,” a different figure muttered. “Which is—”

“Impossible,” the leader said sharply. “The cycle of reincarnation has never once been breached. Not by us gods. Not even by primordia—”

Knock, knock…

The sound echoed through the sealed room like a hammer hitting bone.

Every hooded figure froze.

“…Who was that?” someone whispered.

“We’re hundreds of meters underground,” another hissed. “This chamber is sealed by eight layers of—”

Knock!

Sharper this time.

The leader raised a hand, summoning defensive formations, only for the runes on the walls to flicker weakly, as though smothered by an unseen force.

Then the heavy black door creaked open.

A figure stepped through the crack of darkness.

Mid-length snow-white hair, accompanied by glowing red eyes.

A long, dark sword resting casually on his shoulder.

And an aura, black and white twisting together, leaking from his body like something that didn’t belong to this world.

“Y-you…”

“A-Aestrea?” the leader exclaimed, is voice breaking for the first time.

“How… h-how come you’re -here?”

Aestrea’s smirk curled, lazy and almost bored.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he said, tightening his grip on the blade. “I’m here to cut the roots of a future problem.”

Their hearts collectively dropped.

“S-so you did reincarnate. Ardeon was right… But Seraph, how could she allow—” The gravel-voice trembled.

“Bingo,” Aestrea said flatly.

He stepped forward.

“Unfortunately for you…”

He raised his sword slightly.

“…you won’t get a reward for figuring it out.”

A wave of dread washed through the chamber like cold blood spilling across stone.

“Domain of Silence.”

Aestrea’s voice dropped into the chamber like a blade sinking into flesh.

His shadow twitched, once, twice, then exploded outward as black water spilled across the floor.

It climbed up the walls, swallowed the ceiling, devoured every rune, every flicker of light, every whisper of divine energy…

And in less than a second, the room became nothing.

A pitch-black void.

There was no depth or sense of direction.

Just darkness so thick it felt alive.

The hooded figures reacted instantly, opening their mouths to speak, to chant their authorities, but then, all of them froze.

Not a single wave of sound had come out of their mouths.

Their throats moved, but the void stole every vibration.

Aestrea, however, spoke freely.

He stepped forward, his sword humming faintly, his tone calm and almost bored:

“Don’t bother trying. My domain erases anything your mouths try to create.”

The figures stiffened, their bodies glowing with power as they activated their Authorities in response. Streams of divine light burst from under their cloaks.

One summoned a burning blade. Another called forth a heavy iron chain infused with judgment runes. Two others formed wings made out of pure flame.

Several more conjured layers of magical commandments, shields, and sigils, filling the black space with enough force to destroy a country.

The entire void vibrated with raw divine power.

But Aestrea did not seem surprised.

His eyes simply brightened, glowing with an eerie mix of white and deep crimson, and the dark space grew even colder, as if the void itself was holding its breath.

The gods felt something crack inside their divine cores, a pressure so heavy that it made their Authorities shake.

Only one kind of being carried that kind of presence.

“Now you finally understand,” Aestrea slowly stepped forward.

The darkness pulsed in a slow flow, like a dragon’s heartbeat.

“You were right about me.”

A faint tremor passed through the hooded figures as they tried to retreat, but the shadows clung to their bodies, holding them exactly where they stood.

Aestrea continued speaking, his voice echoing gently through the void.

“I am the Fallen God.”

The statement triggered a silent shockwave.

The divine attacks the figures had unleashed froze in place, suspended mid-air, unable to move forward or backward.

Some of the hooded beings tried to channel prayer, others tried to summon more power, but they quickly understood the truth:

They couldn’t reach their own divinity anymore.

The domain severed everything.

’…The Fallen God race is really overpowered, I can even block their domains as long as they don’t know how I’m doing it…’

Aestrea lifted one hand slowly, almost lazily, as if giving them time to feel every piece of their power collapse.

“Let me remind you what my domain really means.”

His fingers snapped.

The black void rippled outward, swallowing the frozen divine attacks like they were drops of water falling into an endless ocean.

“It is not silence of sound,” he said, stepping closer, each step echoing through the void even though nothing else could make sound here.

“It is the silence of existence itself.”

The darkness around him reacted immediately, thickening and circling the gods like a pack of predators preparing to strike.

Aestrea tilted his head, eyes narrowing with quiet amusement.

“Now then…” he murmured.

His sword lifted, its edge reflecting the faint glow of his eyes.

“…let’s end this problem at the roots.”

The shadows trembled as Aestrea lifted his hand. A cold breath escaped his fingers, and the temperature inside the void dropped in a single heartbeat.

Crack… crack… crack…

Thin lines of frost spread across the black ground, forming a wide circle around his feet. The ice rose like mist, coiling around his legs before spreading outward like a living creature.

The gods stiffened when they saw it.

Ice… no, the Authority of Ice.

He didn’t even bother hiding it.

“Hnn… fine,” Aestrea muttered, cold mist leaving his lips.

“Let’s get this over with.”

He stepped forward once, and the floor cracked under the sudden pressure. Ice burst from the ground and shot toward the nearest hooded figure.

Fwooosh!

The figure reacted fast, swinging a burning blade sideways, cutting the ice in half.

However, Aestrea acted even faster, and with a small wave of his hand, a spiral of ice shot out and hit the burning-blade god in the chest, sending him flying backward into the darkness.

Two more gods moved at the same time.

One dashed from Aestrea’s left, fist coated in gold light.

The other moved from the right, summoning chains of dark metal around his arm.

Aestrea spun on his heel.

The golden-fist god threw a straight punch at Aestrea’s head, but Aestrea ducked under it, his hair brushing the god’s arm.

Cold air gathered in Aestrea’s palm.

He slammed it into the god’s stomach.

BWHAM!

The man flew back, skidding across the black floor as a layer of frost spread over his torso.

Clang, clang!

The chain-user tried to trap Aestrea from behind, wrapping the chains around his legs.

Aestrea didn’t even look back.

He let his body sink slightly, then pulled up a wave of frost from the ground, and the ice raced along the chains.

The man’s eyes widened as he tried to pull back…

But unfortunately for him, it was too late!

Freezeee!

The frost reached his hands and froze them solid.

Aestrea raised his arm and made a small snapping gesture.

CRACK!

The chains shattered, and the god screamed silently as he stumbled back, clutching his frozen arms.

Aestrea’s expression didn’t change.

But then, all the surviving hooded figures exchanged quick glances.

Their eyes flashed faintly beneath their hoods.

And suddenly….

FWAP!

A shockwave burst across the void, like dozens of chains snapping all at once.

Aestrea paused.

The flame-wings ignited again.

The judgment chains lit up.

The burning sword roared.

Light wrapped around their bodies again, brighter than before.

Aestrea’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“…You broke the suppression,” he said, almost annoyed.

It was true.

They had forced their divine cores to bypass the Fallen God’s racial blockage, at the cost of burning their own essence, judging by the tremors in their movements.

But they had done it.

And now, every god in the chamber radiated power again, enough to make the entire void tremble.

They were ready to fight him at full strength.

Aestrea slid one foot back, lowering his body slightly, ice gathering behind his shoulders like wings ready to snap open.

“Fine,” he said calmly, frost gathering in his fingers.

“Come at me.”

FWOOM!

CRASH!

ZRRRRK!

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